#slurps up the angst like good soup

[vonderful-time]

looking at the series of events that the dark urge went through in their semi-odd forty ish years of life in baldur’s gate, it really is no wonder why they felt so utterly terrified at showing even a modicum of affection towards another person.

they were made to kill their foster family at such a young age, likely barely even a teenager, if even that. the only family they had ever known, having no memory of their birth, and the urge that plagued them — the urge which is likely a manifestation of bhaal himself — makes them eviscerate their closest support system.

they were rushed towards a temple, an underground sanctum filled with only envious slaughter-siblings and devout worshippers, both of which treated them as an outsider to varying degrees. slaughter-siblings who were rife with jealousy, eager to see them fail and to use them as a stepping stone to prove their worth to either the oldest living bhaalspawn or bhaal himself. worshippers who would kill and maim for even a feeling of the gods divine worship on their skin, likely tearing and violating the dark urge from the minute the god-child was put in front of them. an environment filled to the brim with hostility and oppression, and through this entire experience the dark urge’s only support and love they have access too comes from a loveless god.

a god that is so deeply revered and feared in equal measure in the halls they stalk. a god whose dominion demands reverent sacrifice, a constant debasing of the self, and sickening display of self-violation to fuel his dark rituals. a god whose domain of murder allows for no softness, no weakness, no compassion, no room for anything but the god himself.

and then the dark urge begins to admire enver gortash. a man who, like him, is subjected to the domineering hand of a god. a man who shares his intense worship and faith. a man who understands the burden and pressures of living up to a gods expectation. a man who lives with the same fear that the dark urge has constantly been trying to squash and squander. a man who understands.

it really is no wonder that the dark urge becomes terrified when the depth of feeling they are experiencing becomes known to them. to have your entire life’s purpose uprooted and destroyed. to have your entire life revolve around the fact that everything in this world that was not for bhaal does not have a place in it, and yet the feelings you are having are not for your object of worship. those feelings are for yourself, and isn’t that selfish?

the dark urge was not made to have personhood. they were not made for individualism. the luxury of choice was never theirs to have or make, a fact they have been intimately aware of since their knife-hand first took the lives of their mother and father — their real mother and father. the first people who loved them, unconditionally, with a wholehearted abandon. and the dark urge was made to kill them for it.

no wonder the dark urge is terrified.

i’d be terrified too, if i knew i’d be destined to have anything i claimed as my own taken from me. even if the thing i claimed wasn’t mine to claim in the first place.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (13) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of injury, trauma; family drama; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; they're still idiots;  explicit sexual content (making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, mutual masturbation, protected sex)  (18+)

Chapter Word count: 29k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: It's here! This is a long one so I hope you enjoy and savour it all. We're close to the end! So thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

You take up Yoongi’s offer of a listening ear on Saturday, the day after your last day at the company. You spent last night wallowing in sadness over not being able to see Jungkook during your farewell dinner and in regret for not telling him what you wanted to say - that you were thankful, that you wished the Arts Center would be everything he imagined it would be, and that hopefully, you’ll see him again. 

Maybe if he showed up, you would’ve said more - that you’re terrified of everything he makes you feel, that you’re too burdened by your past, and that you want him even if you don’t know if you’re ready to be with him.

You spent much of today convincing yourself that it was better that you didn’t see him, even if you kept imagining his shy smile and the feel of his lips against yours, and then you got frustrated all over again. 

With all that’s going on in your head, you figured that spending dinner on your own today would make you feel more sorry for yourself, so you’re currently seated in front of Yoongi with your wonton soup barely touched while he’s just slurped the remaining noodles of his. 

“Your soup’s getting cold,” he nudges your foot as you mindlessly gaze at your bowl. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”

“Apparently, I don’t eat much when I’m sad,” you sigh, turning to him. 

“Well, that sucks. It’s really good soup,” he hums. 

Yoongi looks at you patiently just as he has for the past half hour. You told him you wanted to eat out, and he agreed immediately, even offering to drive you home after. But you haven’t said much since you arrived at the restaurant and he hasn’t forced you to say anything either.

“I’m sorry for not being a fun dinner partner tonight,” you say. 

“It’s okay. When I told you the other week to call me if you wanted to talk, I didn’t expect you to actually talk,” he chuckles. “I know sometimes you just need someone to be with. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you reply. “I can't even figure myself out.”

“It’s only complicated if you make it,” he counters. “Human beings are complex, yes. But feelings of desire aren’t. They’re quite straightforward. You want something and that should tell you everything. It’s pride and fear that complicate things. If you set those aside, then you’ll be able to figure out what you really feel.”

“What if they contradict each other?”

“The push and pull isn’t always equal though. One overpowers the other in some way. So you’re either more happy about leaving or more sad about it. And then ask yourself why.”

“I’m sad about leaving Jungkook,” you admit. “I don’t regret my decision but it doesn’t make me happy right now.”

“And why doesn’t it make you happy?”

“Because it hurt him. And then it hurt me.”

“Why did it hurt the both of you?”

“I don’t know about him,” you pout.

“Then what about you? Why did it hurt you?”

“Because he kept his distance - he replaced me, shut me out. And then he didn’t show up to my farewell dinner.”

“So what’s painful about that?” Yoongi pushes, wanting to help you make sense of things.

“Because I want him close to me,” you say quietly, letting the words sink in. You’ve always known this, but saying it to someone else somehow makes it feel more real this time. “I want him… with me.”

“Told you it was simple,” Yoongi shrugs.

“But it isn’t,” you argue.

Yoongi is a straightforward man, and you suppose the only way for him to understand is for you to tell him the truth, so that’s what you do. 

You tell him about your ties to the Jeon family, why you stayed in the company for as long as you did, all the attempts at leaving, and the plan of doing so after the Arts Center opening. You share about your life in the process - your childhood of staying at the library and your coping mechanisms, your life in Busan, going back to Daegu then leaving for Seoul, working to repay a debt, and then losing yourself because of it. You talk about the closeness you developed with Jungkook, all the times that he was there for you, the kiss and the aftermath, why you pushed him away and why you also feel bad about how he reacted. You say a bit about the things that scare you - getting hurt being one of them - and why staying for Jungkook would be difficult, and why leaving him would be the same. 

Yoongi looks at you earnestly. He’s always known about you being guarded, keeping parts of yourself that you don’t really share with others. This is the farthest you’ve let him into your world, and he sees so much of Jungkook in you. There’s that fear of not being wanted but also of being wanted; you’re scared of not being enough to be loved but also of not loving the other person enough. You’re unable to express how you feel because you don’t know if the person will respond with the same vulnerability and honesty, and you don’t like baring yourself with no one there to tell you it’s alright.  

All of it feels like how his friend is. He’s seen it since the moment Jungkook stepped foot into the office a year ago; he’s seen it everytime Jungkook disengages from you or gets mad at you; he’s seen it even when you’ve started to become comfortable with each other, and Yoongi has seen it these past weeks of Jungkook dealing with your departure, especially recently. 

“So after all that, you mean to tell me that you didn’t actually tell him how you feel?” Yoongi points out. “That he just overheard you say that you like him but you didn’t actually tell him? Not your feelings nor your fears, not your contradicting emotions, nor the fact that you want to be with him? Because I’m hearing you, ___. And all I hear is that you’ve found someone you’re willing to give your heart to but you’re too afraid to do anything about it. Even after he’s told you how he feels, because you don’t think that he would be open and honest enough to you to mean them.”

You let out a breath and pout, Yoongi’s words making it seem simpler than it actually is. In hindsight, maybe it is, because after everything that you shared, the first thing he points out is how, despite the obvious reciprocated feelings, you’re the one who’s afraid to give in.

“You talked about how Jungkook made you feel braver during the times you were scared and alone and hurt,” Yoongi says, seething at your experiences that made you look towards Jungkook for strength. “Why can’t you be brave enough for him? I mean, I get it that you want to leave the company, no one questions why you would. He did but he’s accepted it because he understands, but why do you have to let him go? Is it just because of the ties to his family? Or is it because you’re afraid of what he feels for you that isn’t tied to you being his assistant?”

His last question causes your face to fall, and Yoongi knows he’s hit a nerve.

“You’ve been living your life trying to prove that you’re more than your past, that you’re capable and that you deserve all that you have now,” he adds. “This job was your life. You told me before that you don’t know if you’d like yourself outside of it, and maybe you’re thinking that Jungkook wouldn’t, either.”

“I… don’t think I’m that great, Yoongi,” you confess. “I mean, just think about what the guys I dated said about me.”

“Those don’t count because they’re absolute jerks.”

“Even then, I… I’m terrible at a lot of things. I pull away, I get scared, I… I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. I don’t know if I want to be. I don’t know if I can, or what that even means,” you stammer. “For a second there, I let my guard down for Jungkook and—”

“He did the same and that terrifies you,” Yoongi finishes. “Being wanted back terrifies you. It’s why you feel confused and conflicted, ___. You have the chance to have something you’ve been yearning for and—”

“I’m scared I’d lose it,” you interject. “And I won’t if I don’t have it. I’m scared of heartbreak, Yoongi. I gave in when it came to Jungkook but I saw the possibilities with him and heartbreak was one of them. This is why I don’t give in to anything. I mean, it’s why I didn’t give in to you. I… I was scared we’d hurt each other and that I’d lose you and… I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now.”

“It’s good that you are,” he assures you. “Because do you see the difference? You didn’t give in to me but you did to him. You never know if the person is worth the pain until it’s there but you at least know that he’s worth a try. I wasn’t, and I don’t take offense, but that’s the point. He’s the guy you try for, ___. He’s the one you climb out your walls for. So don’t cower inside. Be brave for him this time.”

It’s a while before you’re able to say anything. The background chatter in the noodle house fades away in your mind as you take in Yoongi’s words. And he’s not wrong. 

You never told Jungkook what you felt; you didn’t know how to. You kissed him to express that, but you pushed him away just as quickly, but you never got to say anything else, especially after. And now you’re left to wonder - what was the fear really about? And what was the need to let go of him because of it?

You’re scared of a lot of things; you’re scared of every single thing you want to have. You learned some time ago that Jungkook was the same, but you think that you’re probably more terrified than he is. 

You’re a walking contradiction, too - you want to cut ties with him because it reminds you of a past you don’t want to be defined by, but in doing so, you’re cutting yourself off as what you started as - his assistant, and you’re scared to be anything else but that. You were good at it - you were competent, capable; you managed his life and the team well. But being with him means you have to be someone else for him - his partner, his companion, his lover, and you don’t know how to be those things for him. You don’t know if you’d like yourself, and so you don’t know if he’d like you if you tried. And that scares you.

But like Yoongi said, you thought Jungkook was at least worth it; you wouldn’t have kissed him if you didn’t, even if you thought it was a moment of weakness. You just have to follow through with that belief this time, and be brave enough to not just want him because you do; you have to be brave enough to let him want you back. You have to be brave enough to believe that he’ll stay. 

“How… how do I do that? How do you become brave for someone?” You finally ask. 

Yoongi relaxes in his seat, his eyes the most comforting they’ve ever been. 

“You just tell them how you feel,” he says. “You face it head on because you know that there’s something more important than a possible heartbreak, and that’s losing on the possibility of happiness with them.”

You let out a breath. You know Yoongi’s right. You’d said that you want to know how it’s like to be truly happy with Jungkook, and it’s this paralyzing fear and stubbornness that’s keeping you from finding out. But you suppose that when you’ve gotten used to keeping a lot of things in, just telling someone how you feel isn’t that easy.

“It’s hard for you, I know,” he continues, reading your mind. “But how would you learn what your heart is capable of if you don’t follow it?”

“Then you’ll just risk it getting broken,” you argue.

“You do,” he hums. “Hearts break. But it’s not the only thing they do.”

The words are simple, just as the thought is. You almost feel embarrassed that Yoongi has to remind you of these things, about the inevitability of pain and loss and how it should be worth it in the end. But the fear comes from somewhere, from a heart that’s close to your own that shattered so many times, you wondered at one point if it was still capable of loving. 

“I told you that I never met my dad, right?” You share, willing to bare a bit more of yourself to him. “He left before I was born because he wasn’t ready. But mom… Mom loved him deeply. I found a photo of them under her pillow one time and I asked her about it, and she had me lay my head on her lap while she told me about him. I was around 6 years old and probably didn’t understand much but I felt her tears drop on my cheek, and then everyday for weeks, I’d hear her cry, all alone in her room. And somehow, she just cried harder every time I hugged her.”

You remember those days. You learned what it felt like to have your heart broken at that age, and it was because of seeing your mom try to smile through glassy eyes; it was hearing her tell you that she loved you, even if the other half of you was the reason why she was hurting in the first place.

“Eventually a man came along and he made her laugh until he stopped,” you continue. “Until all he could do was hurt her. And that… that felt worse. She’d just learned to share herself again but then he just broke her. And I… I felt that, too. I felt it every time she hugged me, kissed me, covered my ears to drown out his yelling… I felt it every time I had my head on her lap so I wouldn’t see her break down.”

Your eyes wander into the streets outside, recalling those difficult years when your mother protected you, even as she was in pain herself.

“They say that a parent feels the pain their child is feeling,” you say. “I guess it’s true for children, too. I felt her pain, I felt her heart break. Her heart was my heart. And I guess ever since then I’ve just been scared for it to happen to me, knowing how much it hurts. It took years before she could recover. That was hard, too.”

“How long did it take her to give Min-woo a chance?”

“Years,” you shake your head. “She was so cautious. But he stuck around, and she realized he was worth it all. And she gained two other daughters who adore her in the process.”

“Her heart was your heart,” Yoongi repeats your words. “And all she did was love. That means your heart is capable of just as much. It’s just as strong, too.”

You’ve never thought about it that way. You've always believed that the one thing you took from your mother was her grace. Perhaps if you tried, you’d learn that you took her strength, too. Maybe her unyielding ability to care. Perhaps it’s her faith in what she was capable of no matter how broken she may be. 

“I… I needed this,” you tell Yoongi, your eyes misty at his words. “It’s been hard understanding myself lately. And you, you just know me. You know what to say all the time.”

“It’s because I risked something, too, when I told you how I felt about you all those years ago,” he replies, the reminder of his unrequited feelings no longer awkward for either of you. “And at the end of it, I learned how I could care for you, and that I could care for you much better as a friend.”

“And well, you’ve been an amazing one to me, especially this past year.”

“Good, so for my sake, especially since you and Jungkook give me so much headache,” Yoongi laughs, “remember everything I said, okay? Your heart is capable of so much. So please give it a try and follow it. I doubt it will be broken this time around.”

You spend the entirety of Sunday at home, cleaning up the place and tending to your growing collection of plants. It was a cool enough day for you to walk up the neighborhood to buy some things from the store, and as Yoongi’s words from the night before ring in your head, you find yourself hurting more at the absence of Jungkook in your life. 

There’s a new recipe for fried rice that you saw online, and he was your first thought because you think he’d like it. You read an article about Lee Jaemin in the morning where she mentioned the Arts Center, and you wanted to share it with him and gush over her words. His favorite Japanese chef has opened a new restaurant in Insadong and you wonder if he’s already tried it. The playground at the park is closed because they’re doing repairs after you told the council about how rusted the swings have become at Jungkook’s suggestion. 

They’re little things, really, and you realize even more just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him, and how much of himself he’s shared as well. Whatever lines that were drawn up due to your respective positions were crossed long ago, even before that kiss. It started when you both started to care for each other, and when you both started to wish for the other’s happiness and healing. On your end, you’d hoped you’d be a part of that and that he’d be a part of yours. You don’t think that has changed though.

There are still many things you want to share with him, you realize again, especially on that Monday afternoon when you find yourself at Rkive Publishing for your contract signing that has you looking at Namjoon in question. 

“Are… are you sure?“ you ask him, as you read through the document. 

He’d sent a version of this for your review a few days ago and you’d given your verbal confirmation. You expected to come today to just sign the contract, but he asked you to review it again since he made a few changes. The salary is one of them. 

“Are you asking me if I’m sure of offering you a higher compensation package?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. 

“Y-yes?” You say. “I mean, not that I don’t prefer it but… why?” 

You knew that working for a smaller organization, and for a publishing company at that, despite having a higher position and more responsibilities meant that your pay wouldn’t be significantly different from what you were getting at the Jeon Corporation. You’d accepted that, and it was something you’d talked about with Namjoon. But still, this little bit of increase is something you hadn’t expected.

“We’ll, let’s just say that we’ve had many applicants in the past who oversold themselves. You did the opposite,” he responds. “You impressed me and the panel enough with your resume and interview and we thought you were a good fit but that recommendation letter from your company’s President showed us just how qualified you were, and that there’s so much potential there. I was also able to speak with your most recent boss.”

“VP Jeon?”

“Yes, I was on a call with him last Friday. He elaborated on the strengths you’d mentioned and that Mr. Jung had noted,” Namjoon responds. “They’re top executives of a well-known company who have worked closely with you, who saw your growth, and can attest to your potential. Given all those qualities, we thought it was just fair that we increase your compensation. We’ve learned it’s important to trust and be committed to our staff, and this is how we show that.”

“This… this is deeply appreciated,” you manage to say, not realizing just how valuable the references were. You check to see that your responsibilities didn’t change much, so you know that this is really them, believing in your worth.

“We’re looking to expand in the next few years and are working towards establishing our position in the industry,” he adds. “We don’t just need competent individuals - we need leaders, we need people of good character who can embody all the things that we stand for. We’re trying to build something here and someone like you would be a wonderful asset. You can help us grow, ___. And I, well,” he continues, shyly smiling. “I just really wanted to make sure that we got a good start. Your role is critical. It’s also one of the toughest ones out there and I wanna show you that we want you here. I mean, I was sure a lot of companies were trying to get you and we’d have to compete for you.”

“I was already convinced early on, Namjoon,” you assure him. “To be honest, meeting you at the bookstore that day felt like some sign from the universe that it was time for me to carve my own path. I guess I didn’t just need a new environment, I needed a blank slate, too, where I could start over and feel like I was really doing this for myself, that I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else, not even to me.”

“Glad I took a chance on talking to you, then, even if I sort of freaked you out,” he chuckles. “I’m still sorry about that.”

“It was fine,” you laugh. “In hindsight, I’m also glad you did. I told you, it was a moment that stuck with me. It’s what pushed me to learn about what you’re all doing here, to learn about you. I… I do well when I’m surrounded by good people, by those who believe in their work, and those who believe in others. I know it won’t be easy but I already know I’ll thrive here. So thank you for giving me this chance, too.”

You and Namjoon talk some more and then lock in a date for your first day. You agree to start in three weeks - that gives you enough time to properly rest and mentally prepare yourself for this new phase. You’ll still be in a fast-paced and high-stress environment, but you’ll control your time and directly manage a team. Everything’s going to be new, and you want to be ready when it all happens, which is also why you’ll be doing your onboarding a few days before. 

“I wanted to give this to you,” he says, handing you a book as he walks you out the door. “I always give one to new staff as a form of welcome because books are our heart and soul, you know?”

“This is lovely, Namjoon,” you smile at him. “This will definitely be my companion for the next few weeks.”

“Good. It’s always meaningful to have something tangible like this,” he smiles back. 

There’s warmth in the way he does it, as if every time he talks about books, it elicits special memories. You think being around someone like that will be good for you, as you try to hold onto good memories yourself despite the sadness you still feel.

“I hope you like it,” he says before bidding you goodbye. 

You walk through the neighborhood and picture yourself going through this route everyday. It’s definitely nothing like the busy streets that you’re used to. There are more trees and quaint cafes and boutique stores here, and even just this change is already making you feel lighter; you can imagine getting over your stress with surroundings like this. You suppose that’s how Namjoon remains as calm and hopeful as he is despite his responsibilities - there’s so much energy you get just being outdoors, and it’s something you decide you’ll do today. 

You have all the time in the world now, so you grab coffee then head to a park to enjoy the early summer cool air. 

The book that Namjoon gave you is a novel published five years ago about a woman who quit her job in search of herself. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, as in such a short time, you've come to know him as a thoughtful man who’s very assuring, and you suppose this is his way of telling you that everything will be okay as you take on this new journey alongside him. The bright color palette of the design seems to reflect the hopeful subject of the book, and right as you’re about to start reading, the sound of children laughing catches your attention.

There’s a playground nearby, and your mind immediately goes to Jungkook. There’s an image of him looking happy and safe in a place that made him feel those things that you keep in your heart. You don’t know how he looks like as a child but you can somehow imagine a little boy riding the swing and coming down the slide with the softest smile and thinking that he can do and be anything he wants, that he feels capable enough for it, and that he’s able to share that joy with whoever who’s with him.

You think about earlier when Namjoon was talking about your capabilities and how you were able to see yourself the way Jungkook and Hoseok see you as a professional. You think about how it felt being supported that way, how their trust and confidence in you made you trust and be confident in yourself, too. There’s this pride you feel at being able to make that much of an impression on your new boss early on and there’s no stress, there’s no pressure. 

Sure, you want to show that all those aren’t empty words, but there’s no urge to prove yourself that you earned your spot unlike how you’ve been these past nine years. There’s just this desire to live - work is a part of it but so is reading stories, meeting people and learning about them, walking through quiet streets and appreciating the sunlight peeking through the trees. There’s this yearning to experience the day and not just survive it. 

You look at the book in your hands and know that someday, you’ll be holding one that you had a hand in creating. And it would be something that you poured your heart and soul into, one that you experienced in its entirety, and it would make you so happy knowing that you could touch it, that you can hear it, that you can see the story come to life in your mind.

You trace your fingers down the front cover and realize that this beautiful thing is tangible. And then you realize another thing - happiness is tangible, too. You’d felt it, you’d heard it. You’d seen it smile at you. You’d felt its lips against yours, too, but then you pulled away and became too afraid to take it back. Happiness was so close - it breathed you in, it held you close; it wanted you, and you were too scared to let it stay.

You spent so many years chasing it. You’d found it in your friends and your new family, but there was always something more that you wanted, one that you couldn’t find. Until him. And you’re slowly learning just how painful it is to let it slip away.

Jungkook stays in your mind for the rest of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to share about your day. 

You want to tell him that you felt a little shy when Namjoon was praising you but that you felt proud of yourself. And that you wanted to thank him. 

You want to tell Jungkook that your new work environment is quite charming, that the surrounding areas are inspiring, and that you might just start spending time outdoors from now on. And that you wish you get to explore it with him. 

You want to tell him that you’re excited to start your new job and that you’ll maybe start reading books because you’ll have a hand in creating the finished products. And that you want to share that with him, maybe make him read it, too.

You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have doubted what he felt, that you should've stood by your feelings regardless and fought for them. You want to tell him that you don’t regret quitting, but that you regret losing him in the process. That no matter how hard you try, he’s still the one you look for, the one you want to talk about your day with, the one you want to share your dream and hopes to. 

Jungkook has made you feel free in a way that you hadn’t before - an irony, considering that working for his family made you feel constricted, burdened, stagnant. But there are so many possibilities with him, so many reasons - to smile, to be brave, to hope, to yearn for more, to believe that you deserve good things that you can touch. And you want to know what those are like; you don’t want to lose out on that chance and lose him completely. 

Perhaps all you had to do was free your heart so it could feel what it’s supposed to. Like what Yoongi said, maybe you just had to follow it to know what it could do. 

It’s why on Thursday of that week, you find yourself inside his office with an envelope in hand, as you hope that actually freeing your heart and following it isn’t too late. 

You were scheduled to come today so you could get your final pay and sign some documents with HR. You arrived mid-morning and got to those right away. It didn’t take long, which is why you were able to pass by Hoseok’s office to update him about your new job and thank him for the recommendation. You headed to the support team’s office after, and they were quick to make lunch plans with you. Jungkook’s at the Arts Center, they said, so they can take their break in half an hour, but they can’t be out long. There are lots of things they have to do with the opening happening on Friday of the next week.

Lucas told you that he’d found some of your supplies that you’d left and they’re in a drawer in his desk, and you told him that you could get them yourself. They were easy to find, and you took the time to leave little notes for him in between folders and files; you figured that finding them on days when he doesn’t expect them could give him encouragement somehow. 

Jungkook’s door was slightly opened, and you took the chance to enter and take in a piece of him. The last time you were here, it felt like there was so much you still couldn’t say, there were feelings you were too afraid to face and words you weren’t sure he wanted to hear. Being back here, you feel a lot braver, and you know it matters that now, you’re trying to be brave for him. 

You stand in front of his desk, almost cradling the letter you’d written last night. You’ve spent the past days outdoors, finding cafes and quaint spots in areas that you’ve never explored before. You’ve been reading the book, too, and the more time you spent by yourself - not being tired, not being stressed, not feeling lost or burdened - the more you realized just how much you’ve been missing and yearning for things. And that you deserved whatever it was you wanted, and that included Jungkook. 

The life you’d started to live without him convinced you that the intimacy and connection you’ve been desiring is something you can find with him. You want to know what that’s like; you want to know how happy you could be with him, and you’ll only know it if you express it to him this time. You owe it to him to do that; you’re scared that any more time apart will push both of you farther away, too far to pull the other back because the anchor wasn’t set securely in the first place. You don’t want him to be your what if; you don’t want him to be your biggest regret.

Telling him how you felt was another thing, though, and writing a letter took you longer than expected. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you could only hope he’ll see your sincerity through it, and that he’ll still want you, even if it took you quite a while to accept what he felt, too.

His desk isn’t as organized as it usually is, but you place the envelope on top of a folder of blueprints that you know he’s going to get to soon. You know how he is - he always likes his things in their proper place. The center is the urgent pile so you know he’s gonna find this once he gets back and that maybe, he’ll go to you right after, hopefully to tell you that he still wants you, that he still wants to be with you, and that like he’d asked before, you’ll figure things out together. 

There’s fear just as there’s excitement. You hope at the end of all this, you’ll find yourself in his arms - everything forgiven, with nothing but more good memories you’ll create. 

You head out to lunch with the team shortly after and hold off on asking how Jungkook’s doing or about the changes in the Arts Center. Everyone looks tired enough as it is and you don’t want them thinking about work during their break, so you settle on talking about your new job and how excited you are. They’ll be supporting the books, they say; you can’t help but think again about how much you want to share them with Jungkook, too. 

You spend the rest of the day at home, waiting for that phone call from him or perhaps, his knock on your door. You’re unsure if he’ll come today; you don’t want to think that he wouldn’t, even if he has reasons not to want to see you anymore after what you’ve done. 

But the hope lives, as you convince yourself in the evening that maybe he got back to the office late and hadn’t seen your letter. 

You do the same thing the next day - you stay at home, hesitant to leave in case he comes, and then tell yourself that there’s a reason why he hasn’t shown up at your door yet. 

You do it again the day after, then the next, and then again.

The hope remained but it has now withered away. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he still hasn’t come.

Jungkook sinks in the seat of his desk, breathing heavily as he tries to catch a break. It’s not much, but it’s the only moment he has of complete silence where he forces himself to not do or think about anything. He gives himself only ten minutes each day for this, other than when he’s sleeping. He does it only between meetings or calls or visits to the Arts Center, which he fits all in one day. 

It’s only 2PM on Thursday but it might as well be late on a Friday evening. He’s exhausted, as if he hasn’t rested for days, as if he hasn’t been sleeping properly, and as if he hasn’t stopped working. And all of those are true. 

Ever since he’d decided on making changes in the Arts Center, he’s been going nonstop. From drawing up the design, purchasing materials, to constructing the room, Jungkook has been doing it all, on top of managing the rest of the work being done. He’s employed the help of Yoongi and a project manager to help him, but Jungkook has been the one making all the decisions, and that definitely didn’t go well with his father. 

He caught the ire of the old man right away, with the CEO scolding him for doing this weeks before the opening and for going over budget, which is why Jungkook stays in the Arts Center most of the day, going in the afternoon and then staying or returning at night, doing the manual labor himself so he doesn’t have to pay more for the workers. He paints the walls as well as some of the furniture, and that’s taken so much of him these past weeks, especially his time, time that he’d taken away from seeing you. 

He wasn’t really present during your last days at the company. He approved all your leaves and he was sincere about having you take them, but during the days when you were in the office, he was barely there. He was either physically at the Center or his mind was. 

Other times, he was performing his executive functions, with Hoseok reminding him of his Vice President duties. Jungkook had neglected some of them, as evidenced by his messy desk that’s giving him a headache. He’s always been organized with his things but not recently, not when all he’s been doing is working himself to the bone like what he’s used to. But this has more at stake for him; this isn’t just some structure or room he’s building. It’s so much more.

One other thing he’s been doing is regretting that he wasn’t there during your last day to bid you goodbye and to see you for the last time, it seemed like. He wished you well and thanked you, even if there was more he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and he wouldn’t have handled lingering, too, if that would give you a chance to say something more to him that would make him express what he’s really feeling, and he’s scared that would push you further away. 

He was never good at that. The one time he told you what he wanted and felt, things didn’t go right - the timing was off, you doubted his sincerity, and there was so much you kept hidden from him. He hasn’t known what to do nor say since then, which is why he’s doing what he’s doing for you. It’s more than the words he doesn’t know how to say; it’s something he won’t regret as it expresses everything that’s been in his heart, and it’s lasting, it’s constant, it’s comforting; it’s everything he wants to be for you. 

But then again, all this work kept him from seeing you for the last time, and it’s a reminder again of how he’s been living his life - diverting his attention to other things instead of facing what’s important. 

There’s not much he can do now, though. Everything has been completed. All the certifications have been secured, all the invitations are out, the promotion for the opening is all over social media, and the support team is on top of everything that’ll take place tomorrow. With the end of it just within reach, he’s able to take a breath, and it’s why he’s able to extend his short break to 15 minutes. 

The Arts Center is being cleaned and security checked, so he has no choice but to stay away from it until it opens tomorrow. So right now, he has the time to work on his other responsibilities, such as draft plans for a project that Hoseok’s working on that he’d asked Jungkook to review. 

“I had Lucas leave the blueprints on your desk last week,” the older man says over the phone after being asked if the files are still with him. “You should see it right away. It was urgent so I told him to put it at the center.”

“Well, that’s one of many that’s apparently urgent,” Jungkook sighs as he sees the pile of documents in front of him. It seems like he’s neglected a lot of other things this past week. “When did you say you left them?”

“Thursday morning,” Hoseok responds. “You would’ve seen them immediately.”

“I would’ve… except I haven’t really been at my desk in days.”

Which is the truth. Jungkook has been sitting on his desk only to go through his emails and then signing documents that Lucas gives him before heading to meetings and the Arts Center. It’s been his schedule this entire week, which is why he hadn’t seen the designs that Hoseok’s talking about. And as Jungkook goes through the pile - of memos for checking, of studies from Yoongi - he sees something else that makes his heart drop.

The last time he found an envelope on his desk with your handwriting on it, his world took a complete turn. He remembers reading that resignation letter and thinking that he’d really screwed things up, that life wasn’t going to be the same without you next to him everyday, and that there was no way he could have you again after how things turned out. 

He doesn’t know what to expect with this, not when he hasn’t seen you in days, and not when he doesn’t know how you’re doing right now.

“Kook?” Hoseok says on the other end after the prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”

“Did ___ come to the office this week?” 

“She was here last Thursday. She signed some HR stuff and dropped by my room. Why?”

“She… she left a letter on my desk.”

“Oh… What does it say?”

“I… I haven’t opened it. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what’s inside,” Jungkook says, his hands trembling as he places it back down.

“It could be many things but you won’t know unless you read it,” Hoseok responds. “Both of you have been keeping your feelings to each other from each other, Kook. This… this might be something that changes that.”

“Did… did she say anything to you when she visited?”

“Just about her job. She seems content and excited. Whatever else she feels, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. So read it, and don’t worry about the designs. Those can wait.”

Jungkook drops the call, noting that he’ll thank his cousin later on. This letter is the most important thing right now, even if he’s nervous about what’s written on it. 

He finally opens the envelope and the first thing he sees are pictures - one of an empty playground, and another one of you on the swing, smiling. It’s been weeks without your smile, and remembering how much comfort it’s given him is what makes him calm down; it’s what makes him have the courage to read through the letter.

Jungkook,

I took the photo of the playground during my birthday trip using the gift you got me. We passed by a park on the way to one of the towns and we stayed there for a while. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. I felt a kind of comfort I’ve never felt before, and it made me think of how I feel when I’m around you. 

I was thinking of you, too, when Soomin took my photo. I seem to do that a lot, I’ve learned. I think of you and smile, and there’s this unfamiliar feeling of joy. There’s this yearning to feel it everyday, and that scares me. We kissed and the desire for you scared me even more. So did the thought that I can’t be what you need me to be despite what we feel, and that there's a possibility I’d get hurt along the way. 

But I learned that what scares me the most is losing you.

I don’t regret leaving, but I regret how I did it, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I got to tell you what I really felt, and I wish I realized much sooner that the happiness I’ve been looking for is one I can find with you. 

I’m scared of many things, Jungkook, but you make me braver. This is me being brave for you. Please come and find me. I hope it’s not too late. 

XX

Jungkook reads the letter one more time. It’s nothing like he imagined but everything he hoped. You’ve wanted him all this time; you still want him after everything. He senses the sadness and the hope in your words, and they’re things he feels, too. 

You want him to find you. And just like you, he hopes it’s not too late. 

He rushes out of his room and instructs Lucas to cancel all his meetings for the day. Jungkook heads to the support team’s office to tell Mr. Ri that there’s somewhere important they need to go. 

“Where to?” The older man asks once they get inside the car.

“___’s place,” Jungkook pants. “Get there as fast as you can.”

Mr. Ri doesn’t ask any more questions. He drives off and merely glances at the rear view mirror. 

“We’ll get to her,” he says. “One way or another, we’ll get to her.”

Jungkook could only hope, but when he gets to your apartment and finds it empty, that hope slowly fades. He’d call you but that’s not how he wants to fix things, he thinks. That’s not how he wants to ask you to be with him. He probably won’t even be able to say what he really means. So he tries one more, knocking and calling out your name, but no one comes.

“She’s not here,” someone calls out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Jungkook turns around and finds your elderly neighbor, a woman he’d seen that one day he visited you after you got injured. You’ve mentioned her a few times and how she sends over food on some nights and invites you for tea on some weekends. She looks kind and warm, and definitely curious.

“She… she asked me to find her,” he says dejectedly. “But I didn’t know she wanted me to. I didn’t see her letter right away and now… now it’s too late.”

“You’re the man she was waiting for,” she hums, walking closer. “She’s right, you’re very handsome.”

“She… she talked about me?”

“A few times. I asked about how she got home when she hurt her ankle and she said you helped her,” the woman smiles. “I don’t see anybody visit her other than her friends. And I’ve known her for years; I haven’t seen any other man she’s allowed in her home in all that time, nor has she talked about one. I knew then you meant a lot to her. But she said things were too complicated and that always held her back.”

“That always held me back, too,” he responds. He’d smile at the thought that you’ve talked about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone. There’s a reason why you stopped waiting. “Has she been well?”

“She has. She seems to have more life in her now. I always felt like her old job tired her out so much,” she says. “She’s excited to start fresh, and I’m proud of her. Oftentimes we stay in one place for too long and we just lose ourselves in it, you know? We lose sight of the things that make us happy and it was really brave of her to leave behind everything she’s known.”

“It was. I know that now,” Jungkook sighs. “Did she say if she found it? What makes her happy?”

“She did. She said she found you.”

The words hit him, as he knows it’s the same for him. You may have found each other in the place you’ve both been in for so long, but it’s losing each other that perhaps made you both realize what it was you couldn’t live without. Letting each other go showed what happiness actually looked like, and that neither of you wanted to be without it anymore.

“I found her too late, I think.”

“That’s for her to decide, though. You won’t know unless you look for her,” she hints. 

“When did she leave?”

“Tuesday afternoon. That was just two days ago. I doubt she’s changed her mind,” she smiles again. “Well, I’d love to stay here and chat but I have some grandchildren to pick up. And I believe you have someone to find.”

“I think I do,” he responds, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome,” she hums. “Get to her, okay? She deserves someone who won’t give up on her.”

You don’t, Jungkook agrees, as he nods in goodbye and heads back to the car. That’s not something he will do this time. All he’s done was let his fears and worries speak for him these past months and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, not when there’s more of you that he’ll lose. 

“She’s not home,” Jungkook responds to Mr. Ri’s questioning look. “I… I didn’t get to her in time.”

“Where to, then?”

Jungkook breaks as he imagines you in your apartment, waiting for him, wondering when he’d call or knock on your door. He can’t imagine you still doing that after he made you wait, but the one thing he’ll do this time is go to where you are and tell you everything he needs to. 

After the heartbreak he caused, he assumes you’d go to either your family or your friends. He remembers the way you’d talked about your mom in the past, and how her comfort was always the one you sought.

“Do you mind driving to Daegu?” Jungkook asks. 

“Not at all,” Mr. Ri smiles. “I figure she’ll be there, too.”

The long drive feels that much longer with Jungkook in the passenger seat, just looking out the window and watching the buildings and houses pass him by. He turns to the man next to him every once in a while, asking about how you were during your last weeks in the office.

“She was trying her best, making sure she had everything organized. She spent a lot of time with the team, too, and I think that lessened her guilt, because she felt that,” Mr. Ri shares. “She hated that she had to leave at this time, but I knew it meant a lot to her that she was finally doing it.”

Jungkook hums, thankful that the team assured you that it was all okay. But still, he wondered some more, and the look on his face is something that the older man reads. 

“She hated that she had to leave you, too,” Mr. Ri adds. “I think it mattered to her that she didn’t feel tied to your family through you, even if she was always going to be. It mattered that she made that choice to leave you, that she came to terms with who she is and her past and decided that it didn’t matter, that she still wanted you despite all of that.”

“You sound hopeful,” Jungkook laughs dryly. “That makes one of us.”

“You can tell how much someone cares by how they hurt, Jungkook. And during her farewell dinner when you didn’t show up, she… she was hurt,” Mr. Ri says. “I had to wipe her tears that night. I think that’s also when she realized how much she really felt for you, when she saw what life could be like without you and knew it wouldn’t make her happy.”

Knowing he made you cry again when he wasn’t there on your last day frustrates Jungkook. He held himself back that time, thinking that a short goodbye would be better for both of you. Then he spent the rest of the day at the Arts Center and he’d completely forgotten about the dinner. In his mind, he already let you go; seeing you another time would pain him again. But that’s what hurt you in return. 

“Why are you going after her now?” Mr. Ri bursts through his thoughts. “After all these weeks of avoiding her, of convincing yourself that letting her go was the right decision, why now?”

“It hurts so much without her. I guess it’s how I know.”

The older man gives a satisfied smile. He always knew that only both of you could decide for yourselves when the pain was too much because only both of you would really know what to do about it. You've done your part and now it’s Jungkook’s turn.

They make it to your neighborhood in over three hours, with only one stop over at a service center. It��s the house in the corner, Mr. Ri says, and realizing that you’re so close again, Jungkook starts getting anxious. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. He supposes that coming out here to see you on a work day is enough of a statement, and maybe you’ll both just take it from there.

The car stops and he looks at the man to his left, as if pleading to take the lead for now. 

“Aish,” Mr. Ri huffs. “Are you really gonna make me ring the doorbell and ask for her after driving you all the way here?”

“Yes,” Jungkook pouts. “I… I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn’t wanna see me because I made her wait too long? What if she’s angry? What if she realized while waiting for me that she made a mistake?”

“Over three hours sitting in the car and that’s what you came up with? That she’s angry?” Mr. Ri scowls. “Don’t make me think you’re hopeless.”

“Please?” 

The older man sighs, thinking that Jungkook just needs time to pull himself together before facing you. 

They both get out of the car, with Jungkook standing on the side of the entryway, hiding behind the shrubs just in case you answer the door. 

Mr. Ri rings the doorbell and not long after, the gate opens. And for all the years that Jungkook has known the older man - with his firm and often stoic disposition - this is the first time that he’s ever seen his face soften, the gentle smile appearing and lingering. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of appreciation it seems, before he says anything.

“Hye-soo. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Byung-hun,” the woman greets. “It’s been so long. When was the last time we saw each other? Was it ___’s 25th birthday?”

“I think it was. That was a really great day. Your house looked much different back then.”

“Who knew an old house needed repairs and renovations to stay up,” she laughs. “But it all worked out. We’ve got more space now.”

“Space enough for Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin to run about?” Mr. Ri chuckles. “I remember their tag game then. They complained how it always ended so fast. But ___ also told me they’ve grown up so much now. And that they adore you. How’s it like raising teenagers at this time?”

“Ah, difficult,” she chuckles. “But it’s wonderful. They… they truly see me as their mother and I… I get to do things right this time.”

“Hey, you always did,” he comforts, having seen her do everything she could for you. “No one could’ve raised and loved ___ better than you. You got through the toughest times because of that.”

“With a little help, of course,” she smiles. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you. And years later, you’re still looking out for her. That means the world to me.”

She’s where all my love goes to, Mr. Ri doesn’t say. He knew early on that the only way to not lose himself in losing her is to care for the one person she loves the most - you.

“And you? Have you been well?” Hye-soo asks. 

“As well as I could be,” he hums. “The stress isn’t the same as when I was working next to Jae-sung but he still tasked me to babysit his son; that in itself is a bit tough.”

“And why is that?” Hye-soo giggles, knowing there’s affection in his words.

“He’s a bit of a hard-head, you know? Pretty stubborn, too, just like his father,” Mr. Ri laments, disregarding the scrunched eyebrows of the man just meters away from him. “And he makes me drive all the way out here, only to be scared to face the woman he’s been looking for.”

“Is that so?” Hye-soo asks, picking up on the man in front of him gesturing towards the side. “I hope he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of.”

Mr. Ri finally turns to Jungkook, motioning for him to get out of hiding and do what he came here for. Jungkook sighs in his place, thinking that this is the first time he’s meeting your mother, and it’s after he’d made you wait and think that he doesn’t feel the same way. With his head bowed down, he walks towards the gate. 

There’s a softness on his face when he looks up, and Hye-soo beams in delight at how the man she hasn’t seen in over 20 years looks very much like the 10-year old boy who used to quietly draw cars and houses on the Jeon mansion living room floor. It’s that same shyness and those same wide and curious eyes that made her have a soft spot for the younger son. They reminded her so much of you. 

“Jungkook,” she says with such warmth. “You’ve grown up so well. It’s nice to see you after all these years.”

She definitely has your smile. It’s welcoming and assuring and perhaps the one thing he didn’t know he needed before seeing you. There’s so much comfort in her eyes, and there’s this subtle strength that she exudes, one that’s oddly giving him the courage to face you. 

“Mrs. Cho,” he bows. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I wish it was because of other reasons, though.”

“What’s wrong about the reason you have today?” She wonders. 

“A lot of things,” he sighs.

“Nonsense. You’re here. That’s all that matters,” she smiles. “Would you like to come in?”

“That would be great.”

Jungkook follows inside while Mr. Ri opts to stay behind. 

There’s something special about entering someone’s house. People spend time and energy to make it feel like home, to make it be a place of safety and warmth. It’s a place filled with all the things they care about, of all the things they love. 

Jungkook never designed the places he’s lived in; an irony, considering his profession. But his residences have always been a place for him to just move into, to just sleep and eat and work at. They’ve always been… empty - grand, expensive, well-designed, but empty. They’re superficial, he would say, a reflection of what he’s always felt. Which is also why he never really welcomes anyone other than his friends. The women he used to bring home don’t count - he’d let them in and make them leave; he never makes them stay long enough to be comfortable, to feel like they belong there. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like he belongs there, either, as if it’s a place reserved just for him to feel alone in. 

And so being welcomed in someone else’s home feels different. You’d done it to him, and being in your apartment both times made him feel at ease and familiar. Now, your mother welcomes him to the place where you grew up and it feels the same - there’s that comfort, that sense of nostalgia, even if he knows he’s never been here before.

“Welcome to our humble mansion,” your mother says. “Please, feel at home. Would you like some tea?”

“Uh, yes. Tea is fine,” he bows.

She heads to the kitchen and Jungkook is left to look around. It’s not a small house but it’s not large, either. He’s in the middle of a spacious living room, with shelves lining up the walls - one has family pictures in it, the other one has books and small framed paintings. The dining and kitchen are to the right; on the left is a hallway that seems to lead towards the bedrooms. There’s a screened door that also leads out the backyard. 

The entire space is airy, with lots of natural light coming through the windows. He spots some renovations done over time, as there’s some mismatch of materials, something only trained eyes could see. But they’re done well, and he could see the love that created this home for all of you. 

Your mother returns with two cups and places them on the table. She asks him to sit down, and Jungkook makes himself comfortable, facing the door as he gazes out at the sky and admires the beautiful changing of the colors. He knows you’d probably admire how it looks, too.

She observes him - nervous as he meets her eyes, a kind of desperation and fear evident as he constantly shifts on his seat. He’s grown up so much, but he’s still that shy little boy she remembers meeting all those years ago. She used to regularly go to the Jeon estate for some private events, and she won’t forget how Jungkook was the son who always kept to himself, content with a sketchpad and some crayons or riding the swing in his custom-built playground. 

“Do you remember me at all?” She wonders. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Did I see you often?”

“A handful of times,” she responds. “Your father introduced me to you and your brother when I first started and I’d see you whenever I had to go to your house. But you were always so shy.”

“I was, but I… I wasn’t really good at paying attention. And I guess, there were a lot of things from when I was younger that I don’t remember,” he explains. 

The faraway look in his eyes says that there’s more to that, that they aren’t just things he doesn’t remember but they’re memories he tries not to, that he blocks out. 

“I’m sorry about what you had to go through as a child,” your mother says, having wanted to express her apology for years, knowing how much the experience haunted him. “I involved your parents in a very personal matter and that deeply affected your family. It affected you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. And I know it wasn’t my parents’, either,” he sighs, feeling regret over the resentment he felt and the distance he created. 

“They were just trying to protect you. I hope you know that now.”

“I do,” he hums. “Do you… do you know what happened that night? In the woods?”

“Byung-hun told me,” she nods. “I’ve never seen him so broken over not finding you sooner. He carried that guilt with him, too, that he didn’t look out for you the way he should’ve.”

“I… I didn’t know that.”

“That man feels a lot even if he doesn’t show it. He’s got the biggest heart that I know and he cares for you so much,” she smiles. “A lot of people do. That includes my daughter.”

At the mention of you, Jungkook’s eyes perk up, the softness mixed with sadness evident once more.

“She and I didn’t want our ties to your family to be known,” she explains. “It was a way for us to move on from all that happened. But in no way did she mean to deceive you. She… she would talk about you with such admiration and fondness. And you showed her that it was okay to let people in, that it could be worth it to follow her heart. She’d hoped that you could see past her decisions and know that she was sincere about everything. That she was sincere about what she felt for you.”

“I… I know that now.”

“And I suppose that’s why you’re here?”

“It is,” he sighs, wanting so badly to see you, even if he doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to. “Is she around?”

There’s a prolonged silence after his question, and your mother’s eyes flit to the far end of the house before they return to him. 

“She, uh, she picked up the girls from school and decided to have dinner out and watch the movies,” she excuses. “I’m not quite sure what time they’ll arrive. And it’s a shame that you came all the way here. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”

Jungkook debates whether he should wait to say all this to you, perhaps when you’re ready and able to see him, or to say what he can now, knowing it’s important that he gets to express whatever he can at this moment, knowing it will get to you somehow. 

But he also doesn’t know how much longer he can hold everything in. All the emotions he feels for you - the regret, the yearning, the desire to have you next to him - have been festering and he just needs to say them. Maybe doing so in front of your mother might be a bit of pressure, but if there’s anyone who can relay all this to you, it would be her.

“There’s a lot of things I’m not good at, Mrs. Cho. Opening myself up is one of them,” he starts. “But your daughter, she… she showed me that it wasn’t so bad. That it’s something I’m capable of doing, and that it’s safe to do that with her. Even when I distanced myself, she didn’t go anywhere, and that does a lot for a person.”

“She’s quite stubborn, isn’t she?” Your mother laughs, remembering those hard times when she’d tell you to get ready for bed, with you disobeying her because you wanted to hold her hand while she cried.

“She is,” he echoes. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her. One of many, actually. She’s also so patient and gentle and understanding… everything I’m not but… all the things I want to be for her. And I wish I’d told her all this when I had the chance but I was so blinded by my own needs that I… I eventually pushed her away. But she was still the one to reach out. She left that letter but I only saw it today and I…”

“Came all the way here to see her,” she finishes. 

“Is it too late, do you think?”

“Between the both of us, not at all,” your mother smiles. “She’s all those things you said but she’s human, Jungkook. She gets scared, too, and hard-headed and tired and upset because she feels so much when she allows herself to do that. And sometimes she needs someone to just show her that it’s worth it, that having fears is valid but that they’re not the only things out there. And you being here… I think it’s what she needs.”

She pauses so he could process her words, meeting his eyes so he could feel them even more. 

“You’re all she thinks about, you know? She likes being home with us and she’s excited for her new job but I can tell that there’s something missing. And I know that's you.”

“She’s all I think about, too,” he expresses, feeling more at ease now. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, I just always think about being with her. And I know that made her doubt, too. I’ve gotten so used to her presence but that’s not out of necessity. I’m not… a boss when I’m with her. I’m just… me. Because she made me see myself as someone beyond all that I do, someone worthy, and it’s that person who wants her, who needs her.”

Jungkook bows his head, angry at himself as all the words come out now, at a time when you’re not in front of him to hear them, to see that he means all of them. For weeks, all the things you said rang in his mind and every time you were in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to say but he never could, afraid of your rejection, of losing you for good. Now they’re out in the open, but somehow the words don’t seem enough. He realizes that when it comes to what he feels for you, nothing is. 

“These are the things I should’ve said to her but I just got overwhelmed at the thought of losing her,” he continues. “I don’t want that, Mrs. Cho. I don’t want to lose your daughter. I want to be with her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be scared anymore, that I want to protect her and take care of her. I want to make her happy.”

It’s the most he’s said about how he feels for you, and he feels quite overwhelmed about expressing them. But he has to say them. You have to know, even if you’re not the one in front of him. They’ll get to you, he’s sure of it.

“I know she wants that, too, Jungkook. And seeing you now, I just know you’ll find your way to each other again, and you’ll both be free from whatever it was that was holding you back,” she assures. “But if it’s not too much, do you mind being a little patient with her this time?”

“Of course,” he nods, knowing that everything that’s happened could make you a bit cautious again, and that’s not something he could blame you for. He’ll give you as much time as you need, and you’ll be the one to find him once you’re ready. “I’ll just be where I always am. And uh, the Arts Center opens tomorrow. It would be great if she could come.”

“She’ll know where to find you,” she smiles. 

He feels that he’s said all that he could, so he finishes his tea and stands up. He remembers that he bought something for you, initially hoping that it would make you smile once he gave them. 

“Could you, uh, could you give this to her?” He asks, handing your mother a plastic bag, somehow feeling ashamed that this is all he got as a peace offering. 

She peeks inside, her eyes widening in delight.

“Chocopie?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles shyly. “I would’ve given her flowers but I just thought this would make her happier. ___ told me that it’s her favorite because you’d give it to her as a treat while she waited for you to get off work at the school. She said it always made her day.”

“This was your favorite, too, wasn’t it?” Your mother asks. 

“It was. My mother said I always hoarded the ones she’d bring home and wouldn’t share it with anyone,” Jungkook chuckles, recalling those days of stacking them in his room and quietly eating them while he drew houses on his drawing pad. 

“You shared it to ___, though,” she says.

It catches him by surprise. He’s never done that, as far as he knows. This is the first time he’s even getting it for you. 

“That night those years ago, after I told your father what was happening, he offered us to stay at the staff house of your family’s estate until I’ve sorted things out,” she recalls. “We were in the living room while your parents talked to me and there was little ___, hiding behind my legs. I noticed her let go for a bit and that’s when I saw you, handing her some chocopie. She was always a shy kid but she took what you were giving, and I remember the smile on her face. Everything was new and scary for her and that… that was the first time she smiled that day. And I’ll never forget it.”

Jungkook stands in silence, as much of his memories from those years have been buried deep in his mind. He remembers hiding away whenever there were visitors at home but perhaps he looked on, curious about the girl who seemed scared and maybe something prompted him to share the treat with you, and something pushed you to take it. 

“I thought she was just being nice,” your mother continues. “She didn’t really like sweets then but she ate the ones you gave her. And when I’d take her to the convenience store after that, it’s what she always picked out. I’ve just been getting it for her since then, and that’s probably what she remembers but it was you, Jungkook. You’re why I bought it for her every time.”

“We’ve… we’ve met before. And I didn’t even know,” he manages to say, thinking now about the familiarity of your presence and the need to always look out for you. 

It’s something he always wondered about, how someone could just pull him in and make him feel things he’d never felt before - that comfort, that warmth, that desire to be good for someone else. It turns out, he’d felt those long before he knew much about the world. And while so many things happened that got both of you here, there’s still something serendipitous about not realizing you met as kids, and then finding each other decades later. There’s all this pain and sadness between the both of you, much of them intertwined, but at the end of it, you heal each other, you make each other stronger, braver. 

“She didn’t know, either,” your mother hums. “And this just means that she always kept something of you from that day. Without realizing it, you were always a good memory that she kept; you let her forget the bad things even though she'd forgotten about you, too. It’s how I know that even if she’s not the one in front of you right now, her heart will always search for you.”

Your mother’s smile is reassuring, as if she knows that it’s what he needs. He’d meant to find you today and tell you everything he feels, but somehow he believes it would’ve been hard for him to do that, and so expressing it is all he could do. He feels like he’s gotten so much despite not seeing you though. Learning that missing part of his childhood that had you in it is overwhelming enough, but perhaps it reinforces what he’s known all along - that his heart will also always search for you, it’ll always find you, and it will always be what he wants to hold close to him.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your home, Mrs. Cho,” he says as he bows another time and heads out to leave. “It means a lot meeting you today.”

“It does for me, too,” she states, leading him towards the door and out to the street where Mr. Ri waits. “And thank you for being good to my daughter. She’ll find you. You have to trust that she will.”

He nods, knowing he’ll just have to have faith in what you feel for him. And he hopes that as he walks away and gives you the space you need, you’ll trust in what he feels for you, too.

Your mother bids you and Mr. Ri goodbye, the longing look between friends hitting Jungkook deeply. They’re each other’s what if’s, and while one was able to live out another love, the other kept living out the one he let go of. It’s painful, and Jungkook now can’t imagine making that choice of letting you go completely. 

Love is a big word. It’s something he’s forgotten how to feel. He knows there’s still so much more to experience with you and love could be one thing, and that’s a possibility he’s sure he wants to live out one day.

He enters the car and sighs as he sinks in his seat. It’s been a long day and an even longer trip back home, but Mr. Ri insists that they take it.

The older man starts the car and looks dejectedly to his side. “So, she wasn’t there, huh?”

It takes a while but Jungkook answers. “She was.”

It’s a wild guess, but somehow he knew you were there, probably inside one of the opened rooms or in the hallway, just meters away from him but still so far away. Your mother had said you were out, but the way her eyes constantly flitted elsewhere, the way she gave him the time and space to just talk and express his feelings, and the fact that she’d shared that story about both of you meeting as children as if she meant to say it to you, too, all told him that you were right there. 

Maybe you hadn’t expected him to come. Maybe you didn’t know what to say this time. Or maybe you thought that seeing you would leave him tongue-tied again, unable to express everything he means, and you wouldn’t be wrong. He just focused on what he felt and not the right things to say or how you’d react at that moment, and he supposes that allowed him to be vulnerable, too. 

“And you’re not there with her because?” Mr. Ri wonders. 

“Because she needs time,” Jungkook states. “And it’s the least I could give her. And I’ll wait until she’s ready. We’ve spent all these months avoiding each other, thinking that letting each other go is the way to move forward but I… I know that’s not what I want. She is. And I’ll show her I mean it.”

“Well, you went to her. And that’s not all you’re doing.”

“I’m not good with words, you know that,” Jungkook shakes his head.

“I do. She knows that, too. So when she sees everything that you’ve done… she’ll know you mean it.”

It's the assurance that Jungkook needs, and he’ll hold onto that, too, until the time you find him again. Right now, he’ll focus on the Arts Center - he owes it to you to make sure that all the work you put into it is worth it. He knows you’ll want that, too. 

The long drive to Daegu had him think about how much of yourself you’ve given to the project that means the world to him. You may have done so because it was your job, but he can’t help but think that in the midst of it, you saw what he was yearning for, what he was trying to attain for himself, and that it mattered to you that he did. 

Jungkook and Mr. Ri go to a restaurant for dinner on the way back to Seoul, and the serious expression on the older man’s face has returned. This is his default state, but his soft, longing look is something that Jungkook won’t forget soon.

“How was it like seeing her after all these years?” Jungkook wonders. “Does… does it still hurt, knowing what could have been and the life she lives now?”

It takes a while but Mr. Ri finally replies. “In an alternate universe, Hye-soo and I are living with our family on some farm. We talked about that a few times, about wanting to grow old in a place that’s peaceful,” he recalls, all those long drives and hectic days becoming worth it whenever he shared them with her. “But this is the universe and lifetime I’m living now. The decisions I made brought me here, but they also set her free. You’ve met her, you’ve seen her home. She’s happy where she is and even if it’s not next to me, that’s the life I always wish she’d have.”

Jungkook hums, unable to fully comprehend the heartbreak of letting someone go like that, and then seeing them live a life that he could’ve shared with them. Thinking about meeting you at a park or something years from now, perhaps with a husband or children, and then wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you go plagues him. That’s not the life he wants. It’s not a decision he wants to make, and he could only hope that neither do you. 

He looks across at the man in front of him with all that love for the woman he can’t have, and Jungkook wonders where all of that goes, recalling a conversation from not long ago, when Mr. Ri first revealed about a woman he’s held onto for years. 

“Does it all go to ___, then? All that love?” 

“It does,” Mr. Ri hums. “It also goes to your family, Jungkook. It goes to you. Those have kept me going all these years and they always will, so seeing you and ___ care for each other means a lot to me, too.”

It’s a comforting thought, knowing that at the end of everything, Mr. Ri still finds happiness in others, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fall into a kind of despair that paralyzes him. Jungkook recalls growing up and seeing the older man always by his father’s side, joining him on his trips and then coming back with some treats that he gives to Jungkook and his brother. When he was in Singapore, Mr. Ri visited often, showing up whenever he had a project launch. Jungkook also knows that he stayed in Canada for a few months, helping Jeong-sik recover after an accident left him with broken limbs. 

And there was that incident that Jungkook carries with him, how he was powerless and alone under the rain but it was Mr. Ri who searched for him, who didn’t give up, who dealt with that guilt for years. And Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever thanked the man for all he’s done. 

They engage in light talk for the rest of dinner. Jungkook offers to drive the rest of the way home, insisting that it’s a way for him to preoccupy himself instead of thinking about you. They spend it recalling his growing up years, how he slowly isolated himself, and then how he gradually opened up again. The older man expresses how proud he is, that regardless of what happens after all this, Jungkook pursued his happiness, and that’s what matters.

“Thank you, for uh, for everything,” Jungkook says as he exits the car, hoping that his simple words would convey all his emotions. 

There’s a softness on Mr. Ri’s face this time, one that Jungkook has seen only twice in his lifetime, both of which were today. It speaks of care and warmth; he knows now that it also speaks of love.

You lay on your mother’s lap, needing the comfort you always felt whenever she held you close and ran her fingers through your hair. It’s something she always did when you were a child, and she knows that despite having grown up, you need it now just as much as you did before. She doesn’t say much, letting the silence of your bedroom envelope the both of you this Thursday evening. 

It’s been a roller coaster of emotions this past week, and today pretty much took you on a deep plunge that has you holding onto your chest and wanting the stability of being on the ground. After you left that letter on Jungkook’s desk last Thursday, you stayed in your apartment and waited for days. 

In hindsight, maybe it was silly that you stayed put when you could’ve called or gone back to his office in an attempt to talk to him. But you weren’t sure what he was feeling, if he was harboring resentment for how you chose to leave, or if he was too busy with the Arts Center opening to even think about you. He kept himself busy during your last weeks after all, and he missed your farewell dinner, too. 

That letter was your way of expressing yourself without the fear of outright rejection. And giving him that decision to find you was your way of telling him that it was his call, that if he still wanted you, you’d be waiting for him. And that’s what you did, day in and day out - you waited for that knock on the door or for the ring of your phone. 

It drove you crazy, thinking that you could be with him already, but the possibility of him also deciding that that’s no longer what he wanted plagued your mind; it’s what kept you from making that call or paying him a visit. There was that part of you that couldn’t help but think that he might’ve wanted things to just remain as they are. It made you realize that despite taking that step of being brave, there was still fear within you that held you back.

The hope dwindled by the weekend despite the comforting conversation you had with your neighbor, and on Tuesday afternoon, the sadness took over. You packed your bags and decided that if you were to get over this, being with your family is where you need to be. You knew your mother would convince you to wait for Jungkook a little longer. She’d be the reasonable one and say that maybe he’d missed the letter. And she may be right, but if you were to pursue him again, you knew you needed to be around people you loved to give you back that strength and confidence.

It turns out, your mother was right. Jungkook did miss the letter. It took him days to see it, and he didn’t waste his time and went to find you right away. Perhaps that certainty that you’ve been needing is what turns out to be the one that overwhelms you in the end. You walked out of your room to find him in your living room, and you froze. You stayed rooted in that hallway, listening to him talk about what he felt for you, and all you could do was hug your knees as you sat on the floor, taking his words in, hoping they’d heal your heart as quickly as his silence broke it.

“Do you think he knew I was there?” You look up to your mother in question. 

“I think he did,” she hums. “I doubt he would’ve said as much as he did to me, someone he’s just met, unless he knew you could hear him. He had this look on his eyes - it was sad and sincere, full of regret but also of hope. And it just felt like was baring himself right there, hoping you’d know exactly what he felt.”

You think about it. Knowing Jungkook, he wouldn’t have let himself be that vulnerable to someone that easily, even if it was in front of your mother. He’s not always able to express himself to you, and maybe that’s why. Maybe like you, he loses his words and caves in in front of the person he wants. It’s happened so many times to you, and it’s one reason you chose a letter to express your feelings; saying it to him directly with all the uncertainties just terrified you. 

But he’d been bold, he’d been honest. And you got to hear his every word, and you believed all of it.

“Why didn’t you want to see him?” she asks, given that you’d shaken your head when she looked at you after he’d asked if you were around. “What were you so afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It felt so long being without him, and I was holding onto this hope after leaving that letter and then the wait just… it discouraged me. Somehow seeing him there paralyzed me a little,” you explain. “Suddenly I wasn’t ready. I had all these feelings that were hanging in the air and to hear that he returned all those was just… I… I was overwhelmed because he was finally within reach.”

“Both of you are in this constant push and pull that’s keeping you from each other,” she points out. “At some point, you’ll have to just get over the fear and meet him where he is and he’ll have to do the same. No one wins in fear, darling. Weren’t you the one who told me I owed it to myself to give Min-woo a chance? You’re the one who said it was better to be scared with him next to me than to be scared alone.”

“Easy to say that when I’m on the outside, it seems,” you chuckle. “I get what you were feeling then, mom, and I understand now how hard it must’ve been.”

“That’s true, so you’re gonna have to trust me that what you said was true - it was better that I was scared with him next to me than if I was alone,” she repeats. “But I made that choice and it was the best one, because I can’t be any happier than I am now because I let him love me, and I allowed myself to love him. You and Jungkook could do that. You just have to trust that it’s all worth it.”

You nod. At the end of the day, you know it makes a difference that it’s your mother reminding you all of this. It’s her pain that you carried, it’s why you were always scared of opening up and sharing your whole self to another person. And it’s also why it matters that it’s her happiness that she reminds you of that pushes you to get over your fear, or at least, to choose to be with Jungkook in spite of it. 

She tucks you in bed and tells you to get some sleep now. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, she says, as you have to make that long trip back to Seoul in time for the Arts Center opening. 

“As your mother, I’m kicking you out of my house,” she teases. “You are to head out there and tell that man how you really feel, okay? I won’t allow you back here until he’s with you.”

“That’s unfair,” you pout.

“It is, but so is keeping yourself away from him,” she shakes her head. “You take after me so much. Stop being stubborn.”

You laugh this time, knowing that while it’s that stubbornness that pushed Jungkook to open up to you, it’s that same trait that’s keeping you away from him.

“I will. And I’ll head out tomorrow,” you promise. “I’m so tired of being sad.”

“Good. No one gets tired from being happy, so that’s what you should try to be.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, tightening his necktie and then spending half a minute to determine if it’s aligned or not. 

It’s something he’s started doing. It’s been weeks since you left and stopped doing it for him, and even if Lucas has pointed out a few times that it was crooked, the younger man never really attempted to fix it. Jungkook didn’t really have a choice but to learn how to do it himself. For an architect with trained eyes, he’s ironically terrible at assessing something as simple as this. He never knows if he’s done it right, and he’ll always be amazed at how you do it. 

He finally decides he’s done it correctly, and he takes his coat to complete his look for the biggest day of his professional life. He opts for the classic suit this time, needing that refinement and elegance that a Kim Taehyung tailored outfit gives. Despite his best friend’s suggestions of trying something a little different, Jungkook insisted that simple is what he wants - the attention shouldn’t be on him, adamant that a textured charcoal ensemble would do its job. The pattern differentiates it from an ordinary suit so he at least doesn’t blend in too much and it’s a good compromise. You agreed with him on this months ago, and hearing you assure him that it looks good on him is something he’s missing.

He shakes his head at the thought. Here he is again, his mind going to you. Perhaps it’s his body’s way of dealing with the nerves; somehow thinking of you calms him down even if you’re not around. You’ve always had that effect on him, and with the unveiling of most important project of his life as the company’s Vice President, that composure and confidence is what he needs. 

It doesn’t stop him from wishing that you’d taken to heart what he said yesterday, not just about what he feels but about finding him. You know most of the details of today’s opening, and if you wanted to, you’d come to show your support even if he kept you in the dark during your last weeks. And if you really wanted to, you’d come to tell him that you want to be with him, and that you’re not going to walk away this time. 

It’s difficult to have today, of all days, be somewhat of a determinant of how things are going to go for both of you. He’ll definitely wait for as long as he needs to until you’re ready to face him again, but if it’s not today, he’s afraid there’s more that’s holding you back, and that not getting to you early on must’ve really hurt you. 

But he’ll keep on, as so much has happened for this day to be as successful as he hopes it to be. Hoseok constantly reminds him of the entire team’s hard work and that it’s what will pull him through. But beyond the expectations from his parents and the Board and past the importance for the artists involved, this was Jungkook’s dream as a professional, and he made it happen. He’ll hold out hope until the last moment that he’ll see you there, though, but if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with your absence like he’s been doing these past weeks.

Jungkook exits his bedroom and gets approving looks from his best friends who’ll be his support system for today. He’d gone to the Arts Center early in the morning despite last night’s long trip back to Seoul, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. It took some reprimanding from his father to finally go home to fix up, the older man claiming that Jungkook will need to collect himself before all the activities in the afternoon. 

There’s an interview with the Culture Minister, a press conference right after, and an afternoon tea spread in the nearby hotel for all the artists whose work will be exhibited for the opening - all before the ceremony scheduled for 5PM. It’s a big day and an even bigger evening, and he’ll have to preserve his energy and learn to manage, and it’s the first big event without you. He knows it’ll be hard, so do his friends, which is why they're here to show their support and lend their energy when needed.

“You look like the star of the show,” Seokjin praises. “It’s a really good suit.”

“The stars of the show are the artists, actually,” Jungkook corrects. “And the public. It isn’t me.”

“Too bad. It’s a simple suit but you’re styled to still get attention so own it,” Taehyung states. “You look really good, Kook. So chin up, okay? It’s all gonna be fine.”

Jungkook tries to smile, hoping that faking it would eventually make it look real.

“We know it’s tough and you wish you could share it with ___, but just think that she’d want you to enjoy this either way,” Seokjin comforts. “You also owe it to her to give it your best today.”

He knows his friends are right. So many things had to come together for today to happen. Everyone involved did their parts. He heard that there’s so much buzz on social media about the Arts Center and the registration that opened to the public exceeded expectations, and that’s only the beginning. Thinking of all the possibilities excites him, and he’ll hold onto that to get him through the day. Or the week and even beyond that, if needed. 

Jungkook nods and thanks his friends, saying that it means a lot that they’re there for him. It catches them by surprise because he’s not one to easily express gratitude or any level of sentimentality. They suppose it’s what having you around had done for him, and maybe losing you also reminded him of the importance of being vulnerable. 

They head to the hotel that’s one block away from the Arts Center. Jungkook goes through the interview with ease, and with the support of his father, Hoseok, Ji-woo, and Lucas, he manages the press conference, too. He takes some time to collect himself after all that engagement, then he proceeds to the event hall to meet with the artists, curators, and craftspeople and show his appreciation. 

He feels a sense of accomplishment already just knowing that they’re as excited as he is. The inaugural exhibitions feature their work, and the products created to commemorate them are all beautiful. It’s truly come together, he thinks, and he allows himself to feel pride for the first time, knowing that more than the structure, it’s the connections and the art that they’re all celebrating, and it’s what he always hoped to achieve with this project.

It’s not long after when he finds himself in the Arts Center, first doing the customary ribbon cutting with his father and the Culture Minister before entering the lobby where he’ll give the formal welcome and signal the official opening of the center. 

It feels different with so many people present, all awaiting to see how the structure was renovated and what new features they’ll look forward to. There’s a buzz of excitement that Jungkook internalizes, as he sits on a chair by the stage. He watches on as his father and cousins go around to meet the guests, opting to save his energy for his speech. It’s the feel of his mother’s touch that makes him realize he’s shaking, and he turns to her and is met with her warm smile. It’s been a while since he allowed that to comfort him, and at this moment, it’s what he needs. 

“It already looks gorgeous, son,” she assures him. “And you’re going to do amazing up there. People listen when you talk, and they believe in what you say. I’ve seen it. So just trust in yourself, okay? At the end of the day, the structure speaks for itself, and that’s what the people will remember.”

“Thank you, mother,” Jungkook smiles back. “And thank you for staying here with me. And uh, for all the other project launches that you attended.”

“Of course, Jungkook. I’ll always be there to support you,” she says. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Anything that you work on will be something I’m proud of. Never forget that.”

He nods, feeling a little lighter the more he accepts the love and support of those around him. He never really knew what that felt like, and he knows that’s all on him. He’ll try to change that now, and he supposes that expressing and receiving gratitude is one thing that he took from you. He just hopes he gets to have an opportunity to thank you again - he wouldn’t have done any of this without you.

Chin-sun approaches him to say that they’ll begin shortly, and Jungkook looks at the growing crowd one last time, that sliver of hope that he’ll see you keeping him going. There are so many moving parts to this entire project, but he knows he’s not alone. After tonight, he can breathe easy and look back at the year that’s passed and know that he put his all into this, and that it turned out to be exactly how he imagined it to be. 

It’s not long after when the program begins. CEO Jeon gives his opening remarks, followed by the Culture Minister, before Jungkook takes the stage. It’s a much longer speech he gives this time, as he wants to make sure that he gets to thoughtfully express his hope and purpose for the Arts Center. He talks briefly about its conception and then delves into the ideas of connection and intimacy, how he wants art to be experienced by people as both spectators and creators, and that he wants this to be a hub for people to create meaning, all while celebrating Korean culture in an environment that reflects the merging of tradition and modernism. 

He keeps his eye contact with the audience, and he sees their warm reception to his words. A video plays to introduce the artists and craftspeople who are featured, and then he ends with thanking everyone who was involved in the process - from the laborers, suppliers, and contractors, to the Board, the investors, and the executive team. He gives a special message to his project team and management support team, asking them to join him on stage because they deserve all the praise for how the Center turned out. 

There’s a resounding applause, and once that’s settled, he finally asks for all the doors to be opened. 

“There are so many things to explore here,” he says. “Please savor every space you enter and take your time. The meaning of art is something only you could define but the beauty is in the experience, and the experience is even more fulfilling when it is shared. Thank you very much and have a good evening.”

He watches the crowd disperse and he releases a breath. The night is far from over and the toughest part for him is just about to start, and that’s going around to see how everything is being received. His mother greets him after, congratulating him again. Hoseok and Ji-woo tell him how proud they are, and his father gives him that assuring nod, with words expressing pride and encouragement accompanying it. 

Jungkook quickly meets the team and gives instructions on how to divide and conquer before he heads to one of the performance halls. He sees Yoongi hanging around and there’s a warm smile on his friend’s face, a rarity because it’s not usually directed at him.

“You’re getting the hang of these speeches,” Yoongi hums. “___ would be proud.”

“Only if she’d heard it,” Jungkook sighs. “I looked around but I didn’t see her. Do you… do you know if she’s here?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook nods, knowing he’ll slowly have to accept that maybe you’re not ready yet, or that asking you to find him here at a time when there are so many people might have been too much. There’s hope that you’ll give him a call or maybe meet him at another time. He understands what you must’ve felt while you waited for him, and he hates himself for making you go through that. It’s excruciating being on the receiving end of it, and it’s only been a few hours. 

“Let me know if you see her,” Jungkook instructs. “I’ll just be…”

“Around,” Yoongi chuckles. “I will. But your job continues, so go out there and find out what people are saying. I’ll be on the lookout for her.”

Jungkook thanks him and continues visiting the different halls, engaging with the artists and Board members and some other visitors along the way. He searches for your face in every space he enters, exiting them in disappointment when he doesn’t find you there. His heart slowly breaks, and he hangs on for a little longer until he starts to feel too much, with the tiredness from being on the go the entire day getting to him. 

It’s a hard call but he decides to leave. Hoseok assures him that it’s okay; he’s talked to every important person already and that’s enough. People will explore for as long as the Center is open, and he’s got the project and support teams to hold the fort for him. There’s not much else he needs to do anyway; their subsidiary company tasked to manage the operations has already taken over, and Jungkook’s main tasks have been fulfilled. It eases him, knowing that he’s not abandoning anyone by deciding to step out. 

As the hours go by with no sight of you, the heavier he feels. He needs time alone, not just because his battery’s gone out but also to just wallow in the sadness. It’s pitiful but it seems better than constantly hoping he’d see you here while being surrounded by so many people.

He goes to one final area before heading out. It’s the most special one, the one he dedicates to you, the one he hopes you’d one day see and know that he thought of you everyday, even during the days when it didn’t seem like it. He wonders if you’ll like it, if it would remind you of what you grew up with, and if it would be a place for you to feel safe and free and happy in, all the things he’d wished you’d feel with him.

One last look and there’s still no sign of you. He calls Mr. Ri and asks to be dropped off at the office. It seems like a better place to be in when he’s sad and upset. 

The building is empty on a Friday night. Everyone’s either at the Arts Center or gone home and he’s ironically the one craving for the loneliness of this place. He’s committed himself to his job for a decade and doesn’t know much of who he is outside of it. He learned a bit of that in the midst of the biggest change he’s experienced and the most challenging year he’s had, and it was through you. 

He learned that he’s actually quite caring, that there’s a protective side to him, that he steps up and shows up when he’s needed, and that he finds joy and peace in the outdoors. He’s passionate and a perfectionist but he wants to be a bit spontaneous, too. He makes mistakes and can apologize for them. He’s capable of kindness and in some instances, enjoys the company of other people with whom he can observe and laugh with. Being alone often made him feel lonely, and he realized that he’s someone who craves companionship, who wants intimacy, and that he’s someone willing to be vulnerable and share himself with the right person. And while he tends to be impatient most times, with you, he’s willing to wait. And for you, he’ll try to be better.

He enters his office and lets the silence envelope him. The city looks alive from his window but there’s dullness from within. He’ll get over it, he thinks, but until then, that sadness will remain for as long as you’re not in his life, for as long as you’re not next to him.

You look at yourself in the mirror, the elegance of your rose-colored midi dress a contrast to the stress painted all over your face. You give yourself only a few seconds to admire how you look - there’s a bit of that sexiness from the v-neckline and front slit, and the flutter sleeves and other vintage details lend to a classic look. Your hair isn’t as fixed as you want and your makeup is too pale for your liking, but with time no longer on your side, those are the least of your problems. 

You couldn’t sleep last night despite your mother insisting that you get some rest. The image of Jungkook leaving your house plagued your mind. You should’ve ran after him and told him that you were sorry, that it doesn’t matter anymore if you waited, for as long as he found you. You should’ve stopped him to say that you wanted to be with him, that you were done with running away from what you really wanted, and that you’re willing to always be brave for as long as he held your hand and eased your worries. You should’ve gone back to Seoul with him, but you’d been too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to chase after what you’ve been yearning for. 

Deciding to come to the Arts Center opening wasn’t always certain. You knew you were going to visit one day. You worked hard on it, too, and you wanted to show your support even if Jungkook would never know. But when he asked you to find him there, you knew you had to go right away. You imagined him making that speech that you helped him draft months ago, donned in the gray outfit that Taehyung was proud to make for him. You envisioned the smile he’d have on as he looked around to see all his plans come to life and the visitors taking it all in. 

You just didn’t expect to sleep through your alarm and then miss the train by a minute. The travel wasn’t bad. The chocopies that Jungkook got you kept you satisfied the entire trip, but it was halfway back to Seoul when you realized that you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. The ones you have are either too formal, too casual, or meant for a night out. 

Taehyung had designed a dress for you but you said it was no longer necessary after you resigned; it was fortunate that he hadn’t started making it yet, and so the guilt wasn’t too much. You didn’t want to go to the opening in just anything. While it mattered to get there, you didn’t want to get any attention, and so dressing appropriately was your plan. Everything else in your closet would make you look underdressed, and you made the quick decision to pass by a store and grab the first nice dress you could find and then head home. 

The clock was ticking, and it didn’t help that you got stuck in traffic on the way to your apartment, and that a vehicular accident at the intersection outside your village forced the cab driver to take a longer route to the Arts Center. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the program was over, and Jungkook would probably now be in the midst of engaging with so many important people and you don’t want any of the attention that your arrival might bring. 

You finally make it though, and while minutes ago you were stressed and just desperate to make it to the Arts Center, now that you’re here, you’re quite nervous. You’ll face him again after so long, and the fact that happiness would be within reach brings about an unfamiliar feeling. But you also can’t wait to experience it. It’s a kind of joy and contentment you’ve only dreamt about, and you’ll finally know what it’s like.

Exiting the cab, you look around in awe. From this view, you could imagine the sunset framing the main building so beautifully. You enter the lobby and it’s even more spacious than you remember. Perhaps it’s the absence of all the laborers and materials on the floor. Now, it’s just this open space with art pieces placed around. The floor-to-ceiling windows would bring so much light in. It was one of the big changes to the old structure, and with the moonlight shining through, it feels as if there’s a natural spotlight on the art pieces. 

You’re enamored by the grandness of it all. Even more by the many people around, perhaps taking their time in exploring all that the Center has to offer. It’s such a massive space that it’s impossible to absorb everything after one go around, and you already can’t wait to take it all in the next time you visit.

It’s tempting to get lost in it but right now, your priority is finding Jungkook, but as you’re about to head to the second floor, Do-hyun’s whisper-yelling of your name catches your attention. She gives you a tight hug and there’s suddenly an air of sentimentality as the old team is together once again. It was just a year ago when you all took on the biggest project together and after all the highs and lows, it’s finally here. And while you missed out on the final weeks of preparations, they assure you that you’re just as much a part of those as they are. 

“You had to deal with the last minute changes, though,” you insist. “That must’ve been hard.”

“Only at the beginning,” Chin-sun says. “We were barely involved. We just helped with procurement but Mr. Jeon was the one who worked tirelessly on it. He had just two other people help him construct it and I guess that’s why he spent so much time there. But it turned out beautifully, and you wouldn’t have known it was only an addition.”

“Wha-what is it?” You ask, the curiousity taking a front seat for now. 

“It’s—”

“It’s something you need to see for yourself,” a familiar voice says. 

You all turn around and bow at the sight of CEO Jeon. He looks at you and smiles, gesturing towards one of the doors. You excuse yourself from the team and follow the older man, walking next to him in silence. 

“I was worried you weren’t going to come tonight,” he says. “I think that so was Jungkook.”

“I… I tried to come earlier but there was all this traffic and… I, uh, how did he do?” You ask. 

“Great, as always,” CEO Jeon answers. “He had everything under control and managed all the socializing impressively. He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”

“He has,” you smile, recalling the anxiousness that he used to feel at just remembering names and keeping up with people’s energy. 

“He’s come a long way in other aspects, too. Smiling, believing in himself, being kinder to himself… it’s great to witness,” the older man continues. “And standing by and caring for someone the way he did with you, that was… that was new, too.”

“I didn’t intend on feeling this way for him, sir,” you say, recalling that the last time you spoke, you weren’t ready to talk about it. “And I tried to suppress it, and that pushed him away but I guess, sometimes we lose people for a reason; we find them again for a reason, too.” It’s a statement that CEO Jeon had told you the last time you talked, and it’s one that stuck with you. “I’m here to find him again.”

“Good. I was hoping you would, so at least I’d know that all this wasn’t in vain,” he chuckles. “And I really do hope you see his heart with this, ___. He takes after me, and I didn’t realize just how much until he came up with this plan.”

You lose him for a bit, suddenly unsure of what he means. CEO Jeon notices, so he gestures towards his right and you follow his lead, and that’s when you see it. Your eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but gasp at the space before you.

“He’s not always good with words but he tries. And this is how he does it.”

You noted entering the grand library as he spoke. The walls and design were familiar, as you’d gone in here during your last few visits. But this area that you walk into is new. It’s not a large space but it feels like it now. It used to be a section of historical books and archived materials that were put on display, almost like a museum of literary artifacts that a historian had sold off. But it’s nothing like that now.

The glass enclosures have been replaced by shelves and bookcases, all easily accessible and reachable by anyone. The framed walls are no more - instead, there are reading nooks and character murals painted artistically, bringing them to life outside of the books they only lived in. The lights are not blinding; they’re warm and inviting, illuminating a space that makes you want to just sit or even lie in, especially with the large stuffed animals spread across. The chairs aren’t the same, too; there are couches all around, all soft and comfortable, decorated with knitted dolls and colorful pillows. 

You walk further, mouth agape as you take in every inch of the space that brings back so many memories from your childhood. This place is new but familiar. It looks nothing but everything like that neighborhood-run library that your mom used to take you to. Towards the back is a little activity area, with a large, leveled table and a row of shelves filled with coloring books and paper dolls. 

You feel chills as you realize what this place is supposed to be, and who this was meant for. 

You remember the first time you told Jungkook about this. It was after that incident at the restaurant. He took you to a park and told you how the playground was his favorite place, how it made him feel free and safe, how it allowed him to just be himself and imagine doing and being everything he wanted. You shared a piece of your childhood, too, and described that library you frequented, how you felt sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye to it, and that you hadn’t seen a place like that again.

But now you have. That last minute change that he made… It was this. 

You turn towards CEO Jeon and try to find the words to say but nothing comes out. You’re overwhelmed by what you see, by the memories they elicit, and by all the emotions overtaking you all at once. 

“Jungkook called me one evening and said that he was going to re-do the archive section in the library,” the older man says. “He wasn’t asking for my approval because it was his project, he’d said, but he just wanted to let me know. He made all the decisions and most of the design. He painted the walls and some of the furniture, too. He spent every afternoon here and stayed until the evening. He barely rested. He just… he just wanted this done. It was so important to him.”

“I… I told him about a place like this, that I used to go to,” you manage to find your voice now. “He never saw it but it… it looks like this.”

“Maybe you described it really well,” CEO Jeon smiles. “It’s how he’s always been. Just a few words and then it comes alive in his mind.”

“That’s why this Center is as beautiful as it is,” you hum. “He’s good at that, bringing to life everything that he envisions.”

“It’s his way of saying the things he can’t say, too. It’s something he got from me, I think. I’m not good with words either,” he admits. “So when Byung-hun told me that your mother used to spend her lunch breaks taking you to a library when you were younger, I knew this was Jungkook expressing everything he feels for you.”

“It’s a bit grand, don’t you think?” You say shyly. “Building something for someone is… so personal, so—”

“Sincere,” he finishes for you. “And intimate, I’d say. But my son, he feels a lot. Which is why I think he tries not to, and why he distances himself from others. He felt like he’d lost you, ___, even before he had you and that… messed with him. He needed to do this for you, but I think he also needed to do it for himself. If at the end of the day, you’ll no longer be a part of his life, this would remind him that you were.”

You blink away the tears that you quickly wipe off as you look away. If at the end of the day, he’s no longer a part of your life, this would also remind you that he was. But you don’t want that, because you want him in your life, you want every part of him that he’s willing to show, and you want to hold every bit of that in your arms, care for it, and never let it go.

The time you spent with so little of him in your life made you feel his absence, and that allowed you to recognize the pockets of joy you had with him. It gave you something to look forward to, to connect with, and to treasure. The first step was resigning, and that itself felt like freedom. You get to pursue that connection and deep desire by choosing him this time. Knowing yourself means knowing how your heart heals and loves, and you want him to be at the receiving end of that. 

“I… I need to see him,” you say, not wanting him to spend another minute without knowing how you feel. 

“You should,” CEO Jeon nods and motions towards the door. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”

There’s a soft smile on his face and you mirror it, as if to tell each other that all has been forgiven, that everything has been accepted, that there’s no more blame or burden to carry anymore. 

You rush out, wondering where to start looking for Jungkook. Turning to the left, you see Yoongi, who quickly rushes to you.

“What do you think?” He asks, gesturing towards the library where you’d just come from. “Is it close to the one you used to go to?”

“Yes,” you respond. “Did you help him with it?”

“Kinda had no choice,” he chuckles. “We were working on it while everything else was being completed. He didn’t want anyone else to know, especially you. I didn’t even know why he wanted to build a children's library all of a sudden when it wasn’t in the plans until that night you told me about your childhood. It clicked then.”

“He was already dealing with so much but he still had time for this?” You say, still in shock that Jungkook pushed through with this despite everything.

“He had a lot to say to you but he didn’t know how to. And I guess working on this was a way for him to deal with losing you,” Yoongi answers. “You mean a lot to him, ___. He was a mess without you.”

You think back at the times you felt that he was quickly replacing you, that he was distancing himself, that he was probably upset because you’d messed up his plans, and that he just wanted to move on from you. All this time, he was working on something that he could leave you with, all because he knew how much it meant for you to have a place like this.

“Now I just have to find him,” you say. “Have you seen him?”

“Not in the past half hour. He’s just been going around but I did tell him I’d let him know if you came. You should call him.”

“I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I did,” you sigh, knowing that it’s probably the same reason why he didn’t call you after not finding you in your apartment yesterday. 

There’s too much to say that can’t be said over the phone. You’ll probably be tongue tied once he picks up. 

You decide to call Mr. Ri, the possibility of Jungkook having left swimming in your mind after thinking of how long he would’ve been socializing. It’s been hours since the opening; it’s possible that he’s gotten tired from it all.

“___? Everything okay?”

“Do you know where he is?” You ask, desperate now. “Is he still in—”

“I just dropped him off at the office,” the older man answers. “I don’t know why he wanted to be there but I’m on the way back to the Arts Center. Do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”

“I’m here right now and I just saw what he made. I need to see him.”

“You can wait for me and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll find my way there. Thank you.”

You drop the call and start heading towards the exit, with Yoongi on your tails, offering to drive you.

“You’ve done so much already. And you’re needed here,” you say. “It’s okay.”

“True, I have. It sucked witnessing you two constantly going in circles when you both clearly can’t get enough of each other,” he chuckles. “So go, find him. You can both stop being such idiots now.”

“Rude,” you laugh. “But thank you, Yoongi.”

He smiles, and it’s a sight that’s gotten you through some of the toughest days. He tells you again to leave now, and you rush out as you book a cab, slowly getting impatient as you want nothing more than to be with Jungkook already. 

You get inside the car and watch the city pass you by. So many nights you’d done this, wondering about your life and where it was headed, hoping that one day you’d find the strength within you to go for what you’ve always wanted, whatever it was. A smile paints your face as you do it again now. One day is today, and with another act of bravery, you’re heading towards that other piece of happiness, and you’re finally claiming it for yourself. 

The office isn’t far, and with the traffic having eased despite the hour, you make it to the building in no time. 

You’re suddenly nervous once you enter the lobby. You’re used to late nights but it’s different this time. The security personnel assigned tonight still remembers you, and he doesn’t ask questions when you say you want to head to the VP’s floor. 

It’s a little nostalgic walking down the hallway, even if you were here just last week. It’s knowing that you’ll be seeing Jungkook at the end of it that makes you emotional, your heart beating fast as the seconds tick by. You quietly make it to his room, and with the door opened, you wonder if he expected you to be here.

You stand at the entrance and see him standing by the window, looking out into the city below. His sleeves are rolled up, and he has one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. You spot the bottle on the edge of the table and not far from it, the mess of folders and blueprints piled on the desk. 

“Why are you out here celebrating on your own?” You say, your voice soft despite the yearning you’re feeling. 

He hears you though, as the swirling of his drink stops and he slowly turns around to look at you. He looks tired, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up. You wish he notices the way yours do, too.

“The Arts Center is beautiful, Jungkook. You should be enjoying it with everyone else.”

“It didn’t feel right without you,” he answers, walking towards his table where he places the glass next to the bottle. “It felt incomplete without you around. You… you were a big part of that.”

“Why did you leave, then? That’s where you said I’d find you.”

“Is that what your mother said?” 

“It’s what I heard,” you say. He doesn’t look surprised, and maybe a part of you knew that he knew you were there, but still, he asks.

“Why didn’t you see me? Why didn’t you want to talk to me?”

You start to walk closer and see the sadness in his eyes. It brings you back to this room weeks ago, how those same eyes looked at you in dejection, in guilt. You hate hurting him, and you don’t ever want to do that again. 

“I realized that I easily accept it when I’m told that I’m being selfish and that I don’t deserve happiness. But when it comes to someone’s genuine feelings, I cower,” you respond. “Your sincerity scared me and maybe that’s why I doubted it the first time and I’m sorry that I did.” 

Your voice starts to shake now as the emotions intensify with every word you say, and with every inch of distance you eliminate. 

“I’m sorry that I pushed you away, that I left, that I kept my past from you. I’m sorry that I was so scared about everything, especially about the way I felt, only because it was all so new. It was all so much; wanting you became too much, I didn’t know how to stop. But I…” you blink away the tears, not realizing they’ve been waiting to fall. “I realized I was more scared to lose you. I was foolish to think that I could just move on and forget about what I feel for you. I thought it’s what you wanted to do, too, and—”

He shakes his head, and it’s the most reaction you’ve gotten since you started speaking.

“All I’ve done since that night you left me here was think about you,” he says, now able to say what he’s been meaning to. “I didn’t know how to stop that either. Wanting you was no longer enough and I wanted to be with you but I didn’t think I could, not when I thought you didn’t want me. You left and I… I didn’t know what to do.”

“I knew it’s what I needed,” you admit. “I… I reached a point where if you asked me to stay, I probably would and I didn’t want to. I wanted to know myself outside of all this and I didn’t want you to be the reason why I’d stop myself from doing that, from searching for whatever would make me happy but I realized that it’s you.”

You take another step, your body aching for him as your heart beats faster. “I felt free but it didn’t feel like I thought it would be. I didn’t want to be here but I wanted to be with you. And I’m sorry it took so long.”

“I didn’t find you right away,” he whispers, as if he still carries that guilt with him. “I was so caught up with everything else, with dealing with the fact that I lost you.”

“The library,” you say. “You were caught up creating something for me.”

“I… uh, I didn’t know how to say everything that I wanted to say,” he sighs. “And I’ll probably always struggle with that but… I just thought that as you go about your new life, I could build you a place where you’ll always feel safe and free, and that if I can’t be that person to comfort you, you’ll have a place that can do that. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to forget me. But I also just wanted you to know that I was always going to think about you.”

“Doesn’t it feel a bit grand?” You ask now, inching closer once again as he takes another step forward. “Building a library for someone is a pretty big deal.”

“You would’ve been my biggest what if. I probably deserve something grand to remind me of how stupid I was that I let you go.”

“You’re not gonna do that again, are you?” You teasingly smile. “Because I won’t.”

“No,” he says a little seriously. “I put you through so much, ___. I just… I just want to be someone who would care for you and would make you happy.”

His words are simple but they carry so much. You suppose at one point, that’s all what’s started to matter. All he wants is to be part of that happiness you’ve been searching for. Maybe it’s what’s been missing in his life, too, and all you want now is to be a part of it.

Another tear falls down your cheek, and you appease the worried look on his face by saying that it’s a happy tear.

He softly smiles, wiping it off with his thumb before cupping your face in his hand. He’s gentle as he caresses you, and you learn everyday just how capable he is of giving warmth, that there’s such tenderness within him that he’s unable to fully show. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admits. “So many times that I’ve seen you cry and I’ve just been… so powerless to do anything.”

“Now you aren’t,” you breathe out as you eye his lips, knowing they’re what you need at this moment. “Now you can—”

His proximity stops you, as he bends down and closes the distance. His mouth presses against yours, the hint of alcohol intoxicating you a little but it’s the feel of him that makes your mind hazy. With his hand still cupping your cheek, he pulls you towards him, his tongue merely licking your own when he slides inside as if to tease. 

“Do that,” he finishes, pulling away only a little bit to allow you to answer.  

“Yes,” you heave, wanting so much more now that you’ve had a taste of him again. “I won’t stop you this time.”

“Good,” he pants, grazing the tip of his nose on yours. “I don’t plan to.”

You’re unable to take a breath before his mouth crashes against yours, but you don’t mind, not when you immediately lose yourself to the way he feels. The kiss is desperate, with his tongue seeking entrance right away and then entangling with yours. Yet it still feels gentle with how he holds you, as his one hand continues to caress your face while the other glides down your side torso, settling on your hip to pull you closer. 

Your fingers grip his dress shirt, needing that anchor to ground you as you feel yourself drifting, getting lost in what you’re feeling - pure desire, an insatiable need, a sense of relief that there’s finally nothing holding you back. He angles your head, allowing him to go even deeper, and you let him take control, you let him breathe you in, let his tongue explore your depths before he pulls back and nibbles your lower lip. 

But he doesn’t stop just like he said, as he makes his way to your neck. You moan once you feel him lick the shell of your ear, the sound urging him to do more. He finds spots that have you grunting in pleasure, sucking and licking and pressing soft kisses on them, leaving you a pleading mess. You chant his name, grind against him for that friction you badly need, and pull on his shirt, as if wanting that barrier gone. 

“Fuck,” he groans, meeting your hips. “Fuck, you sound good.”

Jungkook feels the shiver of your skin, as his mouth slides up and down your neck while he grabs your  waist. He loses himself in the sounds of your moans - constant and yearning - just as heavenly as he remembers. You’re pliant, moving your head to give him access, letting him explore whatever’s exposed for him to do as he pleases, to taste whatever you can offer right now. 

He pulls you for a kiss once again, and there seems to be more desperation now, as you try to dominate, to taste him, to keep him there. Your hand finds his, guiding it to map your body, to let him know where you want him, to tell him where he can go. He curses under his breath when he feels your breast, fondling it for the brief moment it’s there before you direct it further down. You know exactly what you want and he’ll give it to you. 

The front slit of your dress makes it easy, and when his finger grazes your clothed cunt, you let out a sound that rings in his ear, and he wants more of it. 

“You like that?” He huffs in your ear. “You want me to touch you like that?”

“Ye—yes,” you mumble, unable to say anything more.

Jungkook hears your desire. He feels it, too, but he teases a little, gliding down the wet patch before slowly pressing on your clit. You jerk a little, briefly pulling away from him so you can take in a long breath. You bite your lip and he knows that you’re holding yourself back.

But he wants more and he can tell that so do you. He doesn’t care where you are right now; all he wants is to taste you, to feel you pulsate against his tongue, to make you feel good and let you know what he can give.

He looks down where his fingers have slipped past your underwear then back at you, the lick of his lips his way of seeking permission. You seem to know what he means, and you nod, granting it to him. He pulls you again for a kiss, much rougher this time, before he pushes you against the desk and lifts you so you could sit on the edge, just like that first time. But like you said, you won’t stop him anymore. And he truly doesn’t have an intention to.

His mouth moves down actively, kissing every clothed and exposed part of you it passes while slowly lifting up your dress. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs open, aching to taste even more of you. But he glances up and sees the anticipation on your face, his mind hypnotized even with just this view alone.

Holding your gaze, he teases, with his tongue merely grazing your throbbing cunt.

You tense up but it’s what gets you pleading.

“Please,” you whimper, the sight of him from below leaving you in a daze. “Jung—want—plea—I—”

You’re unable to form proper words so he finally gives in, pulling your underwear to the side. He grunts, as the sight of your wet lips has his dick getting even harder. Your desire matches his, and all he wants is to fulfill your need.

With the barrier gone, he presses his tongue flatly over your clit, warming it up first before he starts moving around. He alternates fervent licks on it with slow movements everywhere else - on your lips, on the sides of your thighs, and inside your hole. It’s messy and absolutely mind numbing, as your scent and and the way you taste divine have him burying himself even deeper into you, losing himself even more when he feels your hand in his hair, pushing him towards you as if you don’t want him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t mind. He’d live here if he could.

You start to give in, your legs slowly closing on him but he pushes them apart, keeping them open so he could do more. With his movements, he pulls you closer to the edge - of the table, of your orgasm - and he buries his face there again, licking and sucking and moaning like a man starved. 

The sounds you make drive him crazy, and that's with you still holding back. You’re still in his office, doing something you both definitely shouldn’t, and he supposes you don’t want your obscene sounds to echo throughout the floor despite it being empty. He can’t wait to hear you without anything stopping you. 

You start to shake and that’s how he knows you’re close. He feels your uneven breathing, hears your broken chants of his name, and sees your grip on the table getting tighter. He wants to take you there, and with one final nip of your clit, you crash, the low, long-winded sound satisfying his need to pleasure you.

You try to catch your breath while he laps up your juices. You’re still sensitive, as your legs jerk with every movement of his. He takes a peak and sees your half-lidded eyes and parted mouth, but you eventually return to your senses and meet his gaze. You’ve had enough, it seems, as you pull him up and meet his lips. 

Jungkook tastes of you, and you kiss him languidly, still out of breath and definitely in a daze. You want more of him, though; you want to bury yourself in him and elicit hypnotizing sounds that’ll have him chant your name, too, so you start to palm his hard length in return. But he goes soft on you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist before he cups your cheeks again while he returns your kisses.

“This feels quite familiar,” you hum against his lips.

“Really? I don’t remember you pushing my head between your thighs the last time,” he teases.

“Oh, shush,” you frown, quickly realizing exactly what you’d done. “I can’t believe I had you eat me out on your desk. In your office. On a work night, too. And while you have an event going on. Your father will be so angry.”

“Good thing he won’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, clearly unbothered. 

But you aren’t, so you pout at him. “What was I thinking?”

“Maybe you missed me too much, and I can’t blame you, since you know, I did, too,” he reasons, his shy smile turning cheeky in a second. “Or maybe you wanted to leave me with a gift or something,” he smirks. 

“True. When you’re stressed at work you can just remember what you did to me here and then you’ll feel better, I guess.”

“Actually, that’ll probably frustrate me,” he chuckles, pulling you closer again and wrapping his arms around you. “Thinking about how good you sound and how amazing you taste without you around… Yeah, I’d be angry.”

His praise flusters you, and you briefly turn away. But he assures you again that his father won’t know, and that you’re in the clear despite the indecency you both committed. 

“And it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “That is worth whatever trouble I’ll be in, if it happens. I… I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted you right away.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks again, and you giggle and bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting, the way he giggles back but hugs you tighter. He smells just as you remember, and you think that this is how you want your days to go from now on - flushed against his chest, cradled in his arms, with his soft lips giving you shivers as he kisses your forehead. 

It’s just your joint breaths that you hear now, and you turn to him, your soft smile making his heart skip a beat, and he knows that this is how he wants his days to go from now on - safe in your embrace, with your soft lips tracing his jaw and leaving teasing pecks on his cheeks. He captures them in his, basking in the taste of you, and it’s not long after when the kiss intensifies, leaving him wanting more again.

But just as you return his desire, it’s at that moment when the phone rings, catching both of you off guard and in surprise. He appeases you, as your eyes look at him in worry. He picks up the call, and he hums in confirmation before putting the phone down.

“The building is scheduled for sanitation in half an hour,” he says. “We have to go.”

“Oh right. I remember putting that in our calendars,” you hum, getting off the table and feeling the dampness of your underwear.

You fix your dress, trying to make it less uncomfortable. You turn to him who looks at you shyly.

“Can I take you home with me?” He asks. “Maybe we could, uh, continue this and you know, make up for the time we spent apart?”

“Yes,” you respond, feeling your heart race at the possibilities of tonight. “I’d like that.”

He nods, unable to control his own smile. He motions towards the door and you walk out side-by-side, knowing enough that there are security cameras around. There’s at least that unspoken agreement that neither of you want the attention that could come from having this exposed, whatever this is. But you suppose you have time to figure it out. You’ve both expressed enough that you want each other; you’ll just have to talk about how to move forward and make up for all that’s happened. 

It’s cheeky glances from the elevator down to the car. But once he drives out of the building, he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He smiles when you tighten your hold, as if to say that you don’t want to let go of him, too. 

You explain that you woke up late and had to buy a dress that’s why you didn’t get to him earlier. You share how you met the team and then his father, and the anticipation you felt on the way to the office to see him. 

Jungkook narrates how his day went, saying that the interview and press conference were successful, and that he received so much praise from the artists for how the Arts Center turned out. You compliment him, too, saying how everything looks grand but that each individual space feels intimate, personal, and that you can’t wait to explore it further. 

The conversation is a good distraction, as the moment from earlier still has you reeling internally. His taste is addictive, and there’s just so much more of him you want to see, to feel, to immerse yourself in. He seems a bit impatient, too. He’s driving close to the speed limit, perhaps wanting to get to his place as soon as he can to continue what you both started. With everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t mind doing it all night. 

You finally make it to his building, and he constantly pulls you close as you make your way up, with his hand snaking around your waist while you smile at him. But when he opens his door and you enter his penthouse, he keeps his distance, letting you walk through his hallway and into his kitchen as he looks on.

He walks slowly towards you and his heart starts to beat faster, knowing he’s got you alone now, and that there’s no limit to what both of you could do. But though he wants to just take you in his arms, feel you against him again, and kiss you until you both run out of air, he decides to savor this first - the sight of you back in his apartment. 

It’s been so long. And with you looking as beautiful as you do in your pink dress, he wants to ingrain this image of you in his mind - happy and content, with a tender smile that’s already healing the parts of him that once hurt. 

“Your place looks the same as the last time I was here,” you say, looking around.

“Well, I haven’t really been spending time here,” he shrugs. “I was too busy being an idiot and making this children’s library for this girl that I’m really, really into to make up for it. And well, she’s here with me now. I feel like this place is going to start feeling like home.”

“Plants would help. And maybe some personal photos,” you tease, but you reach out your hand that he takes and you pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and grazing your nose against his. “But I’m also here. And I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I just happen to really, really be into you, too.”

He laughs, and it’s a sound you once said you want to hear all the time. You think from now on, you will. 

“Good. I’d like to keep you for as long as I can.”

His eyes turn serious and it makes you feel hot all over. It’s hard not to use his playboy lifestyle as a basis for how he’d be, and you can’t help but think just how good he’s going to make you feel. There’s always been so much tension with him that in hindsight, you’ve always tried to quell or overlook, but there’s no need for that anymore. You’ll let your desire take over, release all that lust and yearning until he knows just how much you want him in ways words could never express. 

But just as he closes the distance between you, the doorbell rings, and his groan of frustration makes you laugh. It’s as if the universe is edging both of you with these distractions. 

Jungkook looks at you in apology and agony. “That might be Mr. Ri. Or Lucas,” he says, remembering that they’d said that they’ll drop off some of the gifts he received in celebration of today. If he doesn’t answer, they’ll probably enter on their own, since he’s given them permission to.

So he lets you go and heads towards the door while you scurry to the left towards the hallway. 

You doubt whoever it is would come all the way inside so you don’t really attempt to hide, but you do lean by the wall and listen in. You’re appeased to know it’s Mr. Ri, as you see him enter with several gifts and packages. 

“These are from the artists and the Board. There are art pieces in the cart outside so just bring them in,” he instructs, oblivious to you standing not far away. “They gave you lots of alcohol, too. I thought to bring them here already for whatever reason you might need them.” 

The older man chuckles and finally looks up and sees you.

“And I assume that reason is to celebrate,” he smiles now, and you don’t miss the smug look on his face that makes you feel flustered. “I was just gonna say that ___ was looking for you,” he turns to Jungkook. “Looks like she’s found you.”

“She… she did,” Jungkook smiles back. 

“Good. It’s about time you kids made up,” he teasingly rolls his eyes. Heavens know how much he had to deal with, with you and Jungkook being such hard-headed idiots.

“We were in the middle of it but then we got disrupted,” Jungkook frowns, to the amusement of the older man.

“Oh, I wonder who did that,” Mr. Ri teases. “I better get going then.”

He sets aside the boxes and turns to both of you. 

“But before I leave, I just… I just want to congratulate you, Jungkook. The Arts Center is a beautiful piece of artwork. And that… that last-minute thing you did… I’m telling you now that it drove your father crazy. But he… he told me how proud he is of you,” he continues, his look softening as he recalls their recent conversations, including the one just before he drove here. “To do all that for someone you care about, that takes a lot of heart. I think that you, finding it and using it is what he’s happiest about.”

His words are followed by Jungkook’s nod, perhaps in appreciation, and silence, as you’re unsure what else could be said after that. Mr. Ri excuses himself after bringing in the last set of gifts and there’s still that soft smile on his face before he leaves. 

It’s happening, he thinks, and despite all the time it took for you and Jungkook to get here, he supposes it was the only way. It would’ve been easier if he or even Yoongi or Hoseok went ahead and spoke to both of you, perhaps to say it was all a misunderstanding or that there was nothing to be afraid of, not when you both undeniably felt the same way. 

But he also knew that you both had to come to that realization on your own, that life without each other isn’t something neither of you wanted. You also had to make that decision for yourselves - to be vulnerable, to be brave, to take risks, and to find out that it would all be worth it if you’re just honest about how you feel. It seems you’ve both figured it out now, and he can finally feel at ease that two of the most important people in his life can now take care of each other, and that the love he gave helped both of you to get here.

Jungkook leads him out the door then returns to you, and as he walks to where you are, you’re finally able to appreciate how he looks. It’s just like the other times when he had an event to go to - hair slicked back, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dress shirt accentuating his toned chest, and the fit of his trousers showing off the rest of his figure. You eye him up and down and he smirks at you in response.

“So… you exposed yourself, Mr. Jeon,” you say, pulling the neck of his tie to bring him closer to you. “Who taught you how to use your heart like that?”

“Who knew I even had one in the first place?” 

“I did.”

“Not at the start though,” he says, with a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“It was there, you were just hiding it. But I saw it. And I got used to it. Then I couldn’t get enough of it, of you,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And now I just… I want more of it, Jungkook. I want all of you.”

Having you be so bold about what you want does something to him. It already got him weak in the knees when you directed his hand where you wanted it earlier and when you looked at him to grant permission about having a taste of you. Hearing you say you want all of him causes his mind to short circuit, but he recovers quickly, as he nods and releases a breath before cupping your face in his hands then crashing his mouth into yours again. 

It’s sloppier this time, as you both try to take in as much of each other as you can. Your tongues battle for dominance, you nibble and lick each other’s lips, and you moan with every breath as he’s got you caged against the wall, your hands gripping on his shirt to pull him even closer.

You feel Jungkook’s length hardening as he’s flushed against you, and you grind against him, needing that friction badly. He meets your hips and releases your face from his hold, supporting your back that now arches as you chase him, as he finds purchase on your neck, licking and sucking to elicit the most obscene sounds from you. He kneads your ass while you moan his name and plead for more, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure with just this, and you can’t wait for what comes after.

“Please,” you beg, as you feel your cunt throb in pain.  

Jungkook doesn’t need you to say anything else, as he has the same desire to feel your body. There’s so much he wants to do to you, so much more he wants to touch and feel. He wants to know how else you sound like, what makes you lose your breath, what makes you quiver and shake. He wants to know how else his mouth could make you come and how his fingers can drive you wild. He wants to know how your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, how much of him you can take, and how it’s like to be buried deep inside your warm walls as your essence coats him. 

He wants you right now, so he heads towards the closest room, guiding you backwards as he unzips your dress and removes your bra. His hands immediately map your bare body, feeling the shiver in your skin with every movement. You whimper when he fondles your breast, and the thought of you being sensitive to his touch makes him even harder.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he guides you to lie down. He trails downward, nibbling as he goes and memorizing your body this way. His mouth reaches your waist, and from here, he finds himself intoxicated from your scent. He slowly removes your soaked underwear and the sight of your went cunt makes him throb in pain.

You’re so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He can’t believe he waited so long to have you like this.

He thumbs your clit, and your continuous moans and calls of his name make him give in. He stands up and smirks at you and, taking your hand, he replaces his fingers with yours, his eyes ordering you to touch yourself.

You follow, and though it doesn’t feel as good as how he does it, the pleasure hits differently when you watch him loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. All those months of doing your morning routine comes back to you - now you get to see all that’s underneath the clothes you prepare, and when he pulls down his trousers, your mouth drops the same time it does. He’s thick and veiny, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 

His eyes are on your sopping cunt while yours are on his fingers as they stroke his length, getting himself ready for you. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, and while there’s the tiniest bit of disappointment, you don’t mind. It’s something you’ll eventually talk about. Right now, you just want him inside of you and you call out for him another time, prompting him to smirk once again and walk towards you.

He replaces your hand with his fingers this time, and when he returns to touching you, he climbs on the bed and hovers over you, lowering himself for a searing kiss.

“Good girl,” he hums against your lips.

You lose it, as if you hadn’t lost yourself already, but his deep voice and the way he grunts against your skin do something to you. You feel his cock not long after, and no amount of yearning for him could prepare you for how good he feels. He fills you up just right, and the gradual way he enters you while his eyes bore into yours has your stomach in knots and your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he mouths as he goes deeper. “Fuck, baby, you feel so, so good.”

He hits the edge and he settles for a while, letting you get used to the feel of him, but when you start to grind against him, he decides to do the same.  

He moves his hips, pushing then pulling out then pushing harder. He raises himself and intently watches your face distort in pleasure - your breath hitching, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded as you moan his name, as if it’s the only word you’ll remember after all this. He starts to increase the pace, loving the way your breasts bounce in response. Then he slows down, only so he could capture one of them in his mouth to suck and the other, in his hand to touch. 

The feeling of ecstasy overtakes you. He doesn’t go rough all the way, as you initially expected he would. Instead, he paces himself, going fast for a period of time and then slowing down to let both of you bask in the feel of each other. He doesn’t seem to want either of you to come right away, you can tell, by the way he moves and the way he looks at you - with a kind of longing and desire that feels so intimate.

He gets back on his knees after and spreads your legs, giving him more space to pound into you, and with his hands gripping your hips, he pulls it towards him to meet his. You feel him deeper inside, and it has you holding onto your breasts, pleasuring yourself there, too, as he starts fondling your clit once again. 

You’re feeling everything everywhere, and your mind starts to go hazy when he lifts your leg and places it over his shoulder, allowing him to enter you from an angle that has you mewling in intense pleasure. You feel your eyes rolling out, but somehow they land on him, and the way his head tilts back while he grunts in pleasure as he caresses your thigh is a sight that you want to keep seeing. That image of his clenched jaw and strained neck will be ingrained in your mind from now on.

You continue with this pace for a while until he lowers himself and kisses you, hard and deep the same way he thrusts into your hole. With his chest flushed against yours, his mouth sucking and licking your neck, and his hand flicking your pert nipples, you come, the deep inhale and the exhale of moans echoing inside the bedroom. 

Jungkook feels your essence despite the barrier, and it’s a kind of euphoria that pushes him to reach his peak. He hovers over you again, pinning your hands to your side for that anchor he needs. He meets your tongue with his, and then he pounds hard, wanting that high as you come down from yours. But you don’t hold back, as you meet his hips and curse and tell him how good he feels 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you seethe. “You fuck me so good. Fuck, fuck, yes. Keep going, please baby. Keep going.”

Your words push him over the edge, and he crashes before he knows it. He grunts as he catches a breath, a way to express the intense pleasure he just experienced. But he sees you still panting. You may have already come but another one won’t hurt, so he nibbles on your breasts again, knowing it won’t take long. You’re already close, and with a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, he feels you quiver again. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he mumbles. “I wanna hear your pretty sounds again.”

It doesn’t take long. There’s a tone of your moan that lets him know you’ve reached your peak, and he keeps that in mind for everyday that he plans on doing this to you.

You catch your breath, feeling as if you’re in a daze with what you just experienced. As you come down again, you meet his eyes. They were intense and lustful earlier but they’re soft now, just as his smile is. There’s contentment on his face and adoration. He kisses your lips, and that’s soft, too, before he turns to your side and lies on his back. 

Jungkook feels the exhilaration from that ride with you, and he definitely wants to do it again. But he knows he’ll have to recover. He turns to you and thinks that you’ll need some time, too, but he can’t help himself. He presses soft kisses on your torso, up until he reaches your cheek, and that causes you to smile.

He finally stands up and tells you he’ll clean up, and you nod, somehow needing a moment alone to wrap your mind around what just happened. 

It’s different, you think, when sex is with someone you actually feel really strongly for. All the ones before don’t compare. Sure, you were attracted to the men you dated, but they never made you feel anything close to this. Perhaps it’s Jungkook, but maybe it’s also you - for the first time, you’re giving more than just your time and your energy. For the first time, you’re giving your heart, too. All of it.

The thought makes you giddy. It also makes you shy because it all feels new. And it suddenly makes you hyper aware of where you are. 

You look around. This is a new room. Other than Jungkook’s bedroom, you’ve only been to his study; this door was always closed and you never had a reason to see what’s behind it. You know he doesn’t really have people over but you assume an extra bedroom is always good to have.

You start to feel cold without Jungkook’s warmth, so you shift on the end and pull the covers, burying yourself under it. You don’t remember where your dress is, and you’re suddenly too shy to just head out the room and get it. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits the bathroom with his boxers on, and even that has you feeling all kinds of things. 

“Hey,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” you respond.

He looks around and spots his dress shirt on the foot of the bed. He takes it and pulls away the blanket so he can make you wear it. He buttons it and fixes your hair, parting the damp strands and tucking them behind your ear. He helps you stand then you scurry towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

You don’t take long as you don’t want to make him wait, and when you open the door, you see him with his trousers back on, fixing the bed. On top of it are your folded dress and underwear. Between that and the shirt you’re wearing, something inside you stirs as you’re reminded again of how thoughtful Jungkook is. You like him for so many reasons, and now that you get to be with him like this, you’ll get to know him even more.

You don’t realize you’re staring at him as he moves about until he starts walking towards you. 

“I’ll get your clothes dry cleaned. Is that okay?”

You nod, giddy again and unable to speak. 

“I was also, uh, thinking. Do you want to spend the night with me? And maybe the one after, too?” He asks.

“I’d like that,” you smile. 

“Good,” he smiles back, kissing you deeply. “I was really hoping we get to do more of that.”

You laugh in response even if deep inside, you’re screaming in excitement. You’re still overwhelmed by all this, but you know that spending the evening and then waking up next to him will let you ease into this new life that you have. 

He laughs, too, when your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten anything since you left your mother’s house, and that was almost 12 hours ago.

“I actually don’t have anything in my fridge so let’s just order out.”

You nod, and shortly after, you find yourself sitting on the couch with him, your legs laying over his lap while his fingers caress your thigh. He’s got his arm around you and you sit there, just talking, while you wait for your dinner to arrive. 

You stay on the dining table when it does, and you remain there after you’ve both wiped out all the food. You both clean up, liking the domesticity that feels more real now, even more when he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. 

“I don’t have any makeup remover or anything like that,” he says from inside his bathroom. “Just cleanser. Is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah, that should be fine,” you say, following him inside. 

He places some skincare items on the counter and says that he’ll buy your brand this weekend. He grabs a towel and places it on the stool next to the shower before he turns to you. 

There’s a look of desire in your eyes, and though he’d initially thought that maybe you’d want to wash up on your own, the way you’re biting your lips makes him think that maybe you don’t.

He walks towards you and, with his fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt you have on, he looks at you in question as a way to seek permission. You nod, and it’s his confirmation. There’s something about you speaking to him with your eyes that has him nervous, but every approval you give stirs something in him. There’s your shyness but there’s also that desire to have him close.

He undoes the shirt, and though he’s already seen your bare body earlier, it still takes his breath away, as if it’s the first time he’s being graced with this, only because he’s been craving it for weeks.

Not much is said when he undresses after you, but you don’t really need words. Right as he turns on the warm shower, your lips are already on his. It’s sensual this time, as you both seem to want to savor this now that you have more time to spare. There’s still so much he wants to know and to feel, and he supposes there’ll be more days to learn all that. 

But then again, that could also be today, as you kneel on the floor and take his hardening dick in your mouth. You’re just as heavenly as he imagined, even more when you let him come on your chest and he’s dazed with how turned on you look. He finishes you off with you caged against the wall, your breasts in his mouth and his fingers inside your hole. It’s more languid kisses once you decide to actually take a shower, and going slow as you caress each other’s bodies is another feeling that he wants to keep having.

He gives you one of his shirts to wear before you both head to his bed. It’s past midnight and the day has started to catch up to him. He’s been tired since midday, and he would’ve crashed on his couch after finishing a bottle of whiskey if you hadn’t come. 

But you did, and the past few hours have been nothing short of amazing, as if it’s a dream he doesn’t believe is really happening. You lay next to his side, looking warm and comfortable with the softest smile on your face, a contrast to how you looked when you took him so deep in your mouth and moaned curses while you pulled on his hair as you came on his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him.

“A lot of things. Also nothing,” he says. “So much has happened today and I just… I just wanna sleep but I also want to stay awake with you a bit longer.”

“We’ll have more time together though,” you assure him. “We can talk about them tomorrow.”

He hums, knowing that his weekends from now on will no longer be boring like they used to be. 

“What about you, what are you thinking about?” 

“That your bed is so soft and your pillows smell so nice,” you respond, earning you a laugh. “Better than the one earlier. Although come to think of it, I didn’t even know you had a guest room.”

“It’s, well, uh… I wouldn’t really call it a guest room. I don’t really make people sleep there. Unless, they, uh, stay the night even if I told them not to.”

With his embarrassed face, the thought dawns on you. 

“You have a room specifically for your hookups?” You gasp. “You fucked me in your hookup room!”

You don’t seem angry but still, he supposes it doesn’t sound good when you say it like that.

“That… that was the closest room with something to lie on and I just wanted you so badly,” he explains, truly looking like he feels bad about it. “I only have that because I don’t let people in my room and well, you’re here now, aren’t you? I don’t like people being inside my space but you… I want you here. I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with apologetic eyes and you suddenly feel bad for reacting the way you did. It’s not a big deal. Maybe it isn’t ideal when you look back on it but then again, he fucked you so good, it doesn’t really matter. It also doesn’t matter where he does it. But maybe claiming other parts of his penthouse isn’t so bad.

“It’s okay, you made up for it,” you say, kissing his pouty lips to let him know it’s fine. 

There’s really nothing you can complain about, not when you’re next to him and feeling the safety and warmth of being by his side. There’s that comfort of being able to say and do what you want to, including expressing your desire without holding back anymore. That itself feels like freedom, and you get to live that out with him.

“We should probably skip that room for next time,” you add. “I mean, you have a nice bathtub and a spacious closet and a large couch and a wide dining table.., you have a study, a gym…” you smirk, something he does, too. “We have so many options.”

“We do,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you now. “We also have my bed, in case you forgot.”

“I was just about to say,” you giggle, sitting up and motioning for him to lie on his back. His smile is replaced with a lustful look once you start grinding against his clothed dick. “So, uhm, shall we?”

He grabs your hips and aids your movements, immediately feeling pleasure that he fortunately isn’t too tired to build on. He sits up and catches your lips in his. 

“I can do this all night,” he whispers.

And with languid kisses and curious hands mapping each other’s bodies, you feel the beginnings of learning what your heart could do. Right now, it’s racing, as it feels the desire to be one with him, to share in intimacy and vulnerability as you bare parts of yourself to him with no reservations. 

You know that starting today, there’ll be more that your heart will learn to do, like understand and forgive. One day, it will heal. And as it soars and finds a home in Jungkook’s arms, you know that one day, it will learn how to love, too.

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[luveline]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

7k words, new established relationship to established relationship, lots of fluff and some small angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, calls him aaron, basically hotch treating you well

༺༻

1. Soup. 

"Are you hungry?" Aaron asks, hands at the neck of his shirt as he loosens his tie. 

You've never seen him do that. It's a lot to take in.

"A little, are you?"  He's lucky that you remember to answer.

His smile lights you up inside and out, a warm, casual quirk. "Famished." 

"Should we make something?" 

He turns from the doorway and moves into the kitchen. You have to twist on his couch to see his movements. 

"No need. I should've asked if you like it, but I made vegetable soup. The kind with mini dumplings." 

You look down at your legs and squeeze your thighs together until your knees tap. You're too shy to go and meet him where he's standing, but perhaps sitting and having him wait on you is arrogant. And awkward. 

The couch is plush under your hands as you stand. You'd slipped off your shoes at the door, and your socked-feet slide over the tiled floor of the kitchen as you make your way to his side. Aaron lights the stove, atop which stands a tall cooking pot. 

"When did you have time to make that?" you ask, soft with awe. 

"I knew you'd be coming over. I started it this morning." 

"And if I didn't like it?" 

He turns his gaze to yours, pot lid held aloft. "Then I would've ordered in for us. You're sure this is okay?"  

You've never had somebody cook for you before. Homemade, fresh ingredients, and the intricacy of the dumplings too, it all impresses and amazes you. You feel very special. Like you're worth all the effort. 

"I'm sure. More sure if you let me try it." 

His laugh startles you for its rarity. "Okay. It's not done," he warns. 

"Just to taste it." 

He stirs the warming soup with a big spoon for half a minute, the heat on high, before scooping up some broth and holding it above a cupped palm. "It's probably not very hot," he says. 

Oh, you think, excited and sick with nerves at once. He's going to feed the soup to me. 

Something out of a movie, something you didn't know people actually did for their significant others, Aaron waits for you to open your mouth and offers the spoon. You slurp and feel heat rise to your cheeks at the clumsy sound. 

"Aaron," you say, soft and obsessed after you've swallowed, "it's really nice. You made that yourself?"  

"I can cook," he says defensively. 

You lick your lips, giggling. "I can tell. That was really good. Though it was definitely too cold." 

"Mm. It has to cook through some more. Reduce. Do you want to shower?" He puts down his wooden spoon, head tilting to one side gently. He assesses your expression, and brings a curved hand to settle over your cheek. The tip of his index finger kisses the delicate skin under your eye. "No, maybe not. You look tired." 

You probably shouldn't say something like that to your brand new girlfriend (you scream internally at the word, every single time since he asked you a week ago) but Aaron speaks factually. You don't think for a second that there's any malice there, any hidden critique. His words shine with concern. 

"It's Friday. I'm always tired at the end of the week." 

His hand falls to your shoulder. "I can imagine." 

"You can go shower, if you like. I'll watch the soup." 

"I need one, huh?" 

He must know how well-kept he looks even now. You're not sure you've ever seen him dishevelled. 

"Definitely need one," you try to tease. It comes out murmur-quiet, and Aaron takes pity and kisses your cheek. 

He leaves to shower and you 'watch' the soup — you stand at the stovetop and soak in it's emanating warmth, stirring it every now and then to prevent the bottom from burning. The shower runs muffled from the bathroom, and your mind wanders as it tends to do. It's an undeniable fact that Aaron is naked right now, the thought opening an avenue of images you've been trying not to think about all day. It's your very first time spending the night after a couple of weeks of dating, and now you're together, if Aaron wants to have sex tonight you'll say yes. He's handsome, and his build suggests a certain… tenacity. 

His hands would convince you alone. Big hands. 

You look down into the simmering pot of soup and smile harder than you have any right to smile. He's done everything right, all the romance; he'd asked you out clearly with no doubt of his intentions, which had shocked you; he'd brought you a bouquet of flowers on your first date, which had delighted you; and he hadn't tried to take you home, which had surprised you. 

Modern romance often doesn't feel very romantic. Things with Aaron are different. 

Hell, he's so sweet he probably won't make a move unless you make one yourself. 

You'd prefer to be squeaky clean tonight, you've decided, just in case. When he gets out of the shower, you'll tell him you've changed your mind.

The shower shuts off. He appears a little bit after that, in new clothes, towel around his neck and feet either side of your own as he sidles in for a damp and quick cheek kiss. 

"Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to eat?" he asks, taking the spoon from your hand to give the soup a big, gran stir. 

"Actually, could I shower?" 

If he's surprised at your changed mind he says nothing, only turns down the heat of the stove. "Of course you can. Come on, I'll show you how it all works." 

His 'come on' is accompanied with a guiding hand at the small of your back. You let yourself be guided. The heat of his touch fills your stomach and doesn't abate, no matter how cold you run the spray. 

2. Phone calls. 

It's the week after that when you're supposed to be spending the night again. You're excited for two reasons, the first and smallest being that he had been what you thought and more in bed, that itself an expectation raised, and it had felt like connection at its brightest — he'd been sweet, and he'd been rough but never, not ever once cruel. A perfect night. The second, and biggest, is that he's honestly just the nicest person you've ever met. He's your boyfriend, a phrase you don't say in front of him because he's admittedly older than you, and you can't imagine he calls you his girlfriend. Partner might be more apt. He's your boyfriend and he's openly fond of you. Openly more than that. It's new to be doted on as ardently as he dotes on you. 

He touches you like he can't believe he's touching you. He talks to you like you're gold dust, all smiles and laughs heavy with admiration, and he listens. You've never felt listened to in the way you do when you're with him. 

So many conversations are just one party waiting for the other to stop talking until it's their turn. You think, maybe, Aaron would let you talk for hours. He would listen the whole time. 

In summary, you're basically thrumming with excitement to see him again. You've missed him some, but mostly you've spent the week bouncing off of walls waiting for the next time you get to talk to him. 

His text is disheartening, to say the least. 

Hey, honey. I have to cancel our plans tonight. I'm sorry, and I'll explain as soon as I get the chance. Please take care of yourself for me until I can.

It doesn't make you mad. While it is extremely short notice, and your heart hurts to the point of frustrated tears, you know it isn't his fault. He's been clear about his job at the FBI and what that means for you both. How it will without a doubt pull him away from you during dates, the middle of the night, special occasions, the works — this had been after a small disclosure about his commitment to his son, Jack, and how he's a father first — and how it will definitely cause some strain. 

"But," he'd said, "I want you, and I want this to work. So if you can be patient with me, I'll try to make it worth it." 

He's been successful every time. After he'd cancelled your third date, he'd quickly rearranged it and apologised with a modest but beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

Somewhere between the fifth and sixth date, you hadn't seen him for two whole weeks, and every worry you'd had about his intentions had been abated by a steady stream of encouraging text messages and the occasional photograph. Nothing crazy, but sweet things, like the cookies he and Jack had made that night, captioned, I'd save one for you if I thought Jack would let me, or a sunrise in a different state, captioned, This looks like the dress you wore to Lemaira. 

Later that night, you're unhappy and frowning still, a small carton of ice cream freezing your fingers to the cardboard and a spoon in your mouth when your phone starts to ring. 

You aren't expecting it to be Aaron. You aren't in the habit of calling one another, even though you'd secretly wished he would while he's away beforehand. 

It's nearing eight o'clock. 

"What time do you call this?" you joke, smiling despite yourself. Again, the excitement that comes with talking to him wells at the surface. 

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, sounding very tired. 

You slouch down into your couch cushions, ice cream on the armrest, remote for the TV on your chest. You click the volume button down, down, down until the TV's near silent. 

"I'm kidding, mostly. Are you okay? I've been a little worried." 

Understatement of the century. You know sudden cases of violence often draw him away from Virginia, but this had been sudden sudden. The lack of information had made you think the worst, worse than serial killer and bombers and hostage situations. You'd thought Aaron was in danger himself, and then you'd tried to suffocate that thought. He'd never worry you like that even if he were. 

"I'm fine. Sorry to miss you tonight." 

"I'm sorry to miss you too," you say, voice disjointed, too earnest. You scramble to hide the depth of your feelings. "Where are you?" 

"I'm in St. Louis. Where are you?" 

You laugh, curling onto your side with the phone pressed up against your ear. "Where am I? I'm at home." 

"What are you doing?" 

"I was watching TV." 

"Yeah? Did you eat anything yet?" 

You think to the takeout you'd bought and shoved in the microwave, not hungry at the time but knowing knowing would be. "Not yet. Why are you asking?" 

"I want to know." 

"I told you in my text I would take care, Aaron." 

"Honey," he says, pet name like a warm palm over your heart, "my definition of taking care and your definition are very different. Promise me you'll eat something."

"Of course I will. Easy promise." You scratch the couch fabric absent-mindedly. "Have you eaten?" 

"Yes," he says, the sound of a closing window in the background. "It's awful how much take out I eat. All these cases, there's never any time to cook real food." 

"Why, what did you have? And surely there's some uber healthy options out there, like, a chickpea salad-" 

"That costs thirty dollars? I'm not struggling, honey, but we both know that's obscene." 

You're laughter takes on a giddy quality as you cross your leg over the other, picturing his smile as his laughter echoes breathily down the line. You really, really wish he were here right now and that you were having this conversation face to face. You know he'd smile and try to hide how smug he feels at making you laugh. His hand would reach over any gap to touch some silly part of you, forearm or collar or the skin under your ribcage. 

"Are you okay?" You say his name to drive the point home. Your voice is quiet — you're hesitant to offer, worried you're crossing a boundary. "Aaron, I know you don't like bringing it home, but you aren't home, so… I'm here." 

"I know. It's nothing I want you to worry about, there's an ongoing situation here, bomb threats coming in quicker than the local P.D can handle. They need us to vet them and figure out if any of them are real." 

You think about it for a few seconds, the silence small but not uncomfortable. If you were under that kind of pressure, you'd be hurting. Chest pains, anxiety shakes, a migraine. 

"You'll be safe?" you ask. 

"Always. I'm not in any danger. And I need to get home, I owe you a Friday." 

"You do," you mumble. 

There's the creak of a box spring mattress, and the sound of a lamp being clicked. On or off, you don't know. When Aaron speaks, his tone is dulcet and hushed but distinct. You feel it in your chest. 

"Tell me about your day," he murmurs. 

You lay it all out for him in detail. He can barely reply when you hang up, sleep thickening his affectionate, "Goodnight, honey." 

3. His bleeding heart.

"What kind of kid were you?" he asks.

You look up from your notebook, surprised. Aaron has been silent for what feels like an hour now, laid out on the picnic blanket with your sweater bundled up under his head while the sun warms your skin. 

"I was…" You let your pen roll into the centre of your notebook and close it. He's laid his paperback flat across his chest. You think he might be very interested in the answer. "It was a long time ago, but I think I was lonely." 

He nods like this is what he'd been expecting. "Me too." 

It's a gorgeous day out. The sky is a light, bright blue with few clouds. They block the sun occasionally, providing a short and bittersweet shield from the heat. The grass surrounding is shockingly green, rippling in the breeze. 

"You were?" you ask. "What were you like?" 

"I was quiet." 

"That's not surprising," you say mildly. 

"No, I guess not." 

You abandon your notebook and lay down beside him. Worrying what you look like from this angle, you cover your jaw with your hand and turn toward him ever so slightly to show you're listening. 

"I liked affection. I remember my mom used to say I was a siphon for it. I'd be all over her, and she'd have nothing left to give anyone else." 

"That's not true," you deny. Every ounce of affection that you given him, he has returned tenfold, and that's inspired a lot of kindness in you, for him and for the world. "You're like an amplifier, if anything." 

He smiles to himself and turns his gaze skyward. "I wish we'd met before." 

"Me too," you say, leaving little room for debate.

"You're so kind," — he adorns you with each word like a gift, a tiny star of praise — "I think you're the kindest person I've ever met." 

He laughs. It's a catching sound, contagious as anything. You giggle with him and shift closer. Your arms touch, your hips. 

"Baby," you murmur, almost lamenting, "d'you ever think your ability to see the good in people is- It's indicative of the good in you... You've given more of your life than most to keep other people safe. That's the kindest thing a person can do." 

He tangles your hand with his where it had been resting on your stomach. You're pretty sure you can feel every line of every fingerprint as he works your fingers together, a snug fit like one of those wooden brain teaser puzzles: How do you pull these two pieces apart? From the outside, it looks impossible!

"I think I'd be different, if I'd met you before. I'd be kinder," he says. 

You can't agree with him. It's obvious who he is. You know more about him now than you ever have before. His late wife, how she'd been the best mother they ever made. His son, and how he moulds Aaron everyday into a better man. His friends, who trust him, who adore him. All these people have a hand in who Aaron is now, and while you wish you'd been around from the start, now will have to do.

"You're plenty kind," you say. Understatement of the century. 

"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "With you-" He cuts himself off, head-shaking from side to side as he pulls your joined hands up slowly. 

Your arm bends and then turns as he pulls it toward his face. He unlinks your fingers to steer your forearm, aligning it flat over his lips. The first kiss is a surprise, light like the feathered edge of a flower petal, and the second isn't dissimilar. 

The third melts you, veritably, the parting of his lips emphasised by the dull scratch of teeth against your pulse, the wet heat of his tongue. Three becomes four, and a final fifth, crescent moons pressed into your skin like he's trying to tell you something. 

You've no clue what. You likely couldn't say which way the world turns, not when he's kissing you. Not like this. 

Aaron has an acute ability to talk without talking. Hello's and thank you's and I care about you's woven into quick kisses, the swift squeeze of his hand over the slope of your shoulder.

These ones say something you don't want to speak aloud, lest you jinx it. 

The sunlight fades. A big grey cloud covers the sun.

"I think it's gonna rain," you say. 

A raindrop splashes in Aaron's eye. 

"Fuck," he says, which is hilarious, because he never swears in front of you. You hadn't known he cussed at all. 

The downpour is slow and then sudden, spitting rain dotting over you both like a fine mist as you stand, a thicker, faster outpouring chasing your heels as you hurry to the car. You realise you can't outrun it even if you sprint, and so you stop, Aaron's hand in yours tugged like a rubber band. He bounces back into your chest with the picnic blanket under his arm, your books tucked somewhere inside. 

He doesn't ask what you're doing. He's made the same deduction as you, or maybe he trusts you, or maybe he's indulging you. 

"Your hair," he laments. 

"Doesn't matter," you say. 

You lift your chin up for a kiss. Aaron ducks down to give you one. A raindrop runs down the bridge of his nose to the tip of yours. 

4. In sickness. 

You insist that it wasn't the rain that made you sick, but honestly there's no way to tell. You'd kissed for slightly too long, and the rain had been surprisingly cold. Now you aren't very well, and you have to cancel Aaron's sleepover. 

You hold out as long as you can, but come Friday afternoon it's clear you aren't getting better. You wake to a text from Aaron, two texts, and it makes you smile through shivery coughs. 

I can't wait to see you tonight. Do you need anything before I get there? Miss you. Sent 6.26AM.

Is everything okay? Sent 9.17AM. 

Usually you'd have answer his morning text within the hour. 

Hi, I miss you too, so much, but I don't think we'll be able to see each other tonight. I've got the flu :( I'm sorry. And sorry I couldn't answer your message until now, I was sleeping. 

It's another hour before he answers. You rouse from your gross snotty stupor to squint at the phone. It's surprisingly long. 

I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get back to you, things are tense here right now. You don't have to be sorry for either, I'm glad to hear you're resting. You could have told me you were sick. Is it okay if I come and see you tonight anyways? I would love to check on you. Don't rush to answer, and call me if you can. 

You call him with reservations. 

"Is this a good time?" you ask weakly, forgoing a hello. 

It takes him a little while to speak. You assume he's leaving a room, closing a door. "Now's fine. How are you?" 

"My throat hurts and it's a little hard to breathe, but I'm sure I'll live." 

"You've been to see a doctor?" 

"It's not that bad." 

He sighs. "You sound tired. And sore. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" 

"You don't have to baby me, I'm really okay." 

"Have you considered that I'd like to baby you?" 

Not really. You can't imagine anyone would want to deal with you. You're a mess, you look awful, you don't smell great, and you're not good company. You can't think of a single reason Aaron would want to be anywhere near you right now. 

"No," you say, "I hadn't." 

"I'd love to look after you." 

"You could be doing something fun with your Friday. You could see Jack." 

"Jack's going to Kings Dominion. And Fridays are our day, you being sick doesn't make me want to see you less."

You hadn't said that, but he'd inferred it. Of course he had. 

You and Aaron decide that your sleepover will go ahead after all. Or, he persuades you very gently. You spend three hours doing tasks that should only take one. You shower, you clean your room, and you do the dishes. By the end of it you're sweating enough to need another shower but you aren't a quitter, so you open the freezer and stick your head in, hands braced against the refrigerator door. 

You're excited to see him. You always are. Too bad you look so wiped out. 

It's almost 6.30 when you hear his knock on the door. You'd been waiting for him and started dozing at the kitchen table, your neck a mess of twisted nerves, your hand numb from supporting your head. You shake it out and open the door, sheepish. 

"Hi," you croak out. 

He has a lot of stuff with him. His familiar overnight bag, a briefcase, two grocery bags, and a bouquet. 

"Aaron, why," you moan, covering your face with one hand as you move back down the hall to let him in. 

"Not the greeting I'd hoped for." 

"I can't greet you, I'll make you sick." 

You get all the way to the kitchen and think, triumphantly, that you've escaped his 'greeting'. He puts the flowers down carefully on the kitchen counter as you try to come up with a thank you that doesn't make your eyes burn. The grocery bags are placed without ceremony on the floor, and his overnight bag falls onto the kitchen chair. You watch him unbutton his rain spattered coat, and your triumph fades when he peels out of it and instantly reaches for you. 

"Aaron," you mumble, stepping into his arms. He knows you can't say no to a hug, not after a week of not seeing him. 

"I missed you," he says, arms around your back, lips at your temple. "You're running a temperature." 

"It's not that bad. 101." 

"Honey, 101 is bad." 

"Not as bad as 102." 

"Not as bad as 102," he concedes. You can hear his voice rumbling in his throat, and feel it in his chest and yours.

He takes as much of your weight as he can, leaning back so you're forced to arc forward. Your face slips into his neck, and you're thinking, this is what it's like? To be held, sick, with nothing to give? It feels good.

"Please tell me the next time you're sick," he murmurs. 

You definitely will. If this is what it's like, roaming, cautious hands over your shoulder blades, a strong nose stroking lines against your warm forehead. 

"Thank you for the flowers." 

It's squished against his skin but he hears it. "You're welcome. Do you want me to put them in a vase?" 

"I can do it." 

"I think that might defeat the purpose. They're a gift, not an extra chore." 

"Nobody ever got me flowers before you, so it doesn't feel like a chore at all." 

He encourages your face back enough to look at you. You have to mouth breath on him because your nose is all stuffed up, and it is not something you're happy to do. You look down so he can't feel it. 

"I'm gonna do something really cheesy, and you can tease me about it later, okay?" 

You look at him from under your lashes. "'Kay." 

"Close your eyes," he whispers. 

You let your eyes shut. Aaron cradles your face in both hands and pulls your face toward his chin, in your rough approximation. 

Heat fans against your eyes. He kisses your eyelids, the left and then the right, the most gentle press of his lips you've ever felt. 

"It's killing me to see you like this," he says, and you're grateful for the pinch of humour behind it. "Couch or bed?" 

"Couch. I wanna watch a movie with you." 

"Good. I wanna watch a movie with you, too." 

Aaron does everything. You're too tired to notice, but when you're better, you'll add it all up. He makes you dinner and breakfast and lunch and enough for the day after that, too. He trims down all your flowers and places them in a vase on your window sill. He recleans your room, cleans your bathroom, and plays nursemaid diligently. He makes you take your temperature in front of him, and then he fawns and makes you hug an ice pack, stays the night again when he's supposed to go home. 

It sucks, but your temperature falls, and when your insides stop cooking themselves you start to feel better. On Sunday morning, when he has to leave, you feel the strange pang of being cared for unconditionally like the wind being knocked out of you. He'd done all of that because he cares about you. He'd wanted to see you fed and well and happy, and he hadn't gotten anything out of it in return. 

5. The test-drive.

"Hi, Jack," you mumble, rubbing wetness out of your sleep-heavy eyes. "Good morning." 

"Good morning," he says cheerfully, of his father's disposition. 

"Did you," — you yawn wide and turn your face so neither of them can see — "sleep well?" 

"Yeah, thank you. Why are you so tired?" 

Aaron's standing at the stovetop making oatmeal. You stand at the counter beside it, hips touching but facing opposite ways. "I'm still getting used to your dad's bed." 

It's true. There's something about someone else's mattress that makes you ache. 

"What is it about my mattress you can't get along with?" Aaron asks in good humour, adding a generous pinch of salt to the saucepan. 

"It's more comfortable than mine," you say with a self-satisfied laugh. 

Aaron pecks your damp cheek and skirts around you to fill three identical bowls of oatmeal next to three identical glasses of orange juice. Jack cheers when his portions are placed in front of him, and he digs in even though it's ridiculously hot. 

Aaron had explained once that he's basically trained Jack to eat it scorchingly hot by accident. Years of oatmeal straight off of the hob versus a growing boy with no patience. You watch in awe as Jack scarfs it down. 

You and Aaron are doing this thing. You've called it the test-drive in your head. He wants to see how well you and Jack get along, likely, and how well you handle living together, too. (Though you absolutely don't think you'll be moving in together quite this soon.) That's your working theory. He'd asked you if you'd be interested in staying for the week a month ago, and you had, and it had been a dream. This is week two, and it seems to be going just as well as the first. 

It's definitely revealing. To see each other's routines. And an adjustment. You have to see all the gross stuff, no avoiding it. 

Though stuff you might consider gross he enjoys. Like watching you put on body lotion, he'd loved that more than words could express. And watching him shave, you'd loved that more than you'd thought you would. You'd sat on the lip of the tub and he'd listened to your morning murmurings, half asleep and excited as always to talk to him about everything. 

Getting to know Jack more has been a joy, too. You've met him nowhere near as many times as you would've liked and done family things: bowling, pizza places, the movies, a baseball game. 

Eating breakfast together is way more fun. Especially because Jack likes you. 

As soon as you sit down he starts to tell you about school. You listen, sipping your orange juice while you wait for the oatmeal to cool from lava. 

After breakfast, the three of you head back to your respective bedrooms to get dressed. 

That's something else you adore, you and Aaron undressing and redressing together in the space in front of his closet, the intimacy of casual nudity, and the way his hand closes around your hip to move you out of the way of his shirts. 

You're pretty much inseperable until you get to the car park. A firm believer in kids receiving as much love as they can from everybody, you offer Jack a hug before you part ways everytime. Sometimes he says yes, though most times he says, "Thank you, Miss Y/N, but my hug quota is full." 

Today, he squeezes your waist really hard and says, "Have a good day bye," like it's one word.

"Have a good day, baby," you tell him, laughing as he jettisons into the passenger seat of Aaron's car. 

Aaron usually gives you a swift kiss and goodbye like his son. Today, he brings his hand to your neck. You stare him straight in his dark eyes as he does, marvelling the shock of straight lashes outlining each one, and the permanent wrinkle between his brow from frowning. 

Placing two hands on either shoulder, you use his frame to rise on tiptoes and kiss it. 

"Don't frown too much today, okay, handsome? Have a good day." 

He cups your face in both hands as your heels touch the ground. His hands are warm, kind as he pushes both palms over your cheeks and your ears. He covers them, and your heartbeat amplifies, a thumping sound fighting his skin. Then he slips his fingers behind your ears and the roaring fades. 

"I love you," he says. 

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really. I love you, honey. Have a good day."

As if. If he thinks he can walk away after dropping that on you he's got another thing coming. 

You throw your arms around his neck and all your weight into his front, almost barrelling him over. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your thighs around him, 'cause then he really might fall over. 

You dig your face into his neck, searching for something, for the perfect place to rest your cheek. "I love you, Aaron." 

There isn't a chance in hell he didn't already know it. 

"I got you something," he says. 

You laugh in surprise and tighten your hold on him. "Why? This is gift enough." He loves you. It bounces around in your chest. 

"Because I'm not stupid enough to miss what I have right in front of me." 

You lean back so you can kiss him, ignoring his hand as it reaches into his pocket. 

"Baby," you say, a hair's width from his lips. You kiss him again for a second, thrilled, but curiosity pulls you back. "You have it now?" 

He takes a step away from you and reveals the box in his pocket, long and thin. It clicks open on a silver hinge, and inside velveteen lies a simple chain.

"Is that a diamond?" you ask, breathless. The stone at the end of the chain shines like nothing you've ever seen before. 

You don't know a thing about them other than that they're expensive. You can't see Aaron Hotchner of all people buying a fake. 

"A small one," he says modestly. 

Your eyes burn. You're happy to the point of tears but you refuse to cry. 

"And it's for me?" you ask. 

He laughs and you laugh too, the sound slightly sniffly. 

"Of course. Do you want to wear it?" 

"Now? Yes, more than anything," you say, smiling hard, cheeks appled and aching. "Are you serious?"

"More than anything." 

Corny, you think desperately. Do not cry, that's so cheesy. 

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until my birthday?" 

He gestures for you to turn around, the chain hanging from his finger. You turn, feel his hands brushing against your neck as he lays it across your chest and pulls it together behind your nape. 

"Your birthday gift is better than this." 

Better? You could burst. 

The clasp closes and he rubs his hands down the backs of your shoulders. 

You turn back around, face dipped to your chest in efforts to see the necklace. It's short but long enough to spot the diamond hanging under your collar. 

"I've never had a diamond, before," you mumble, hands pressed to your chest. Your heart bumps under your hand. 

"Thank you," you say, looking up, "baby, you didn't have to. You don't have to get me stuff like this, it's a lot." 

"I don't think it's too much. You give gifts when you're grateful. I'm grateful to love you." 

He's expecting you this time, unwavering when your arms slide over his shoulders. You breathe in the smell of his skin and he does the same, his face pressed to the top of your head.

Jack is late for school that day. You apologise to Aaron more times than you can count, and every time he only smiles and says, "It's okay. I love you." 

+1 

Aaron misses your first anniversary. 

It's a very important date to miss, and you have a right to be upset. 

But. 

You always knew from the very first date that this was something that could, unfortunately, happen. You'd been lucky to get him for your birthday, luckier still to see him on his own and treat him with the delights he deserved. You'd figured eventually something would happen to throw a spanner in the works. 

What you aren't expecting is the lack of anger. 

You aren't mad at him, not one bit. It would be okay if you were, even though it's not his fault, because this is so big. You're celebrating the best year of your life alone, and that's no fun. You and Aaron had planned to go away, two days in a fancy hotel, Jack with Jessica and no worries. 

He can't ignore a bomb threat in the capital, and he wouldn't want to. 

You know a missed anniversary is a lesser weight than innocent people dead. You know Aaron wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't go. You know he regrets leaving you on such an important day. 

Maybe one day, you'll be angry with him. Today, you only miss him. 

I love you. I'm sorry. I'll be back very soon. Happy anniversary. 

He sends that after a grovelling, short phone call, in which you assure him that it's fine. Your voice is tight with tears, you miss him like crazy, and he hears it though you try to hide it. 

I will make it up to you. 

You don't have any doubts. 

You feel a little sorry for yourself, and then you send him a text of your own. 

I love you, so don't be sorry. Get back safe and sound and consider yourself forgiven. Happy anniversary, my love. 

Followed with what's likely too many hearts for good measure. 

Still, still, he doesn't believe it's okay. You know he's human, and he loves you, and that makes it easy to predict how he's feeling — worried that you're angry, worried that you'll leave him, worried this won't work for you. 

And you're only human yourself. You can't say how you'll feel in another year, or two, or five. You can't imagine how depressing it might be to miss the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries with him year after year, but you want to be patient. You want to forgive him for the things he has no hand in, and you do. 

You get a visitors pass for his office once you're cleared and take the elevator up, checking your text messages for the fifth time, just to make sure. 

I'll be home in a couple of hours, the plane touches down in two. Love you. Sent 4.53PM. 

It's the day after your anniversary, a Monday, and it's nearly 7PM. You smile at people you've seen in passing the few times you've visited his office before and don't bother trying to sit in Aaron's office, knowing it's locked while he's away. You travel the spare steps and sit at the top of the landing, hands clutching the neck of the bunch of flowers you're holding nervously. The cellophane crinkles. 

You hadn't answered him. It was cruel to leave him hanging, but you didn't expect him to come home so soon. He's too damn good at his job. 

The elevator doors open in the quiet. Barely anybody lingers now in the late hour, and the voices of the BAU echo. 

Spencer sees you first. Morgan second. They stop at the beginning of the office. 

Aaron sees you third.

You spring to stand up on your feet, and then you feel very tall and very seen and descend the steps rather than draw more attention. 

"You said seven," you say, not sure what else to say, not with people watching you. "This is definitely closer to eight." 

Aaron thankfully isn't too proud to speed walk to you. Your heart skips as you meet him, flowers crushed half to death as he gets his arm behind your neck, hooking your head in the crook of his elbow. 

He kisses you roughly. Heat floods every inch of skin, your breath rushes out of your nose with a sigh. 

He pulls back. 

"Happy anniversary," you say quietly, smiling at the sheer relief in his eyes. 

"It was yesterday," he says, quiet too. 

"Happy one year and one day, then." You push him away from you gently. "Don't suffocate your roses." 

"You got me flowers." 

"You get people gifts when you're grateful," you parrot. 

He takes a step back and accepts the flowers. On the message card, you've written, bashful and clumsy and adoring, I'm grateful to love you. One year and more. 

He moves the bouquet into one hand and wraps you up in another huh, firm-armed, chin over the top of your head, though he intersperses his embrace with dainty kisses pecked from one temple to another. 

"You aren't mad?" he asks, worried about the answer. 

"No," you say honestly. "Not mad. Missed you like crazy yesterday, but I get you today. I can make it work." 

When you break apart a second time, you both buckle under the weight of his colleagues watching.

"Thank you," Rossi speaks up, grand and wry, "we thought we'd have to endure his moping for at least a week. Your understanding spares us all." 

"Nice, Dave," Aaron says. 

"I've got your paperwork, Hotch," Morgan offers. 

Aaron has the good sense to accept it before Morgan can change his mind. His friends say goodbye, and Aaron pulls you by the hand back to the elevator bank. You couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if you tried. 

The elevator doors have barely closed when he's leaning down to kiss you again. 

"Thank you," he says. 

"You really don't have to say thank you," you murmur, bumping your shoulder with his. "You got home safe. That's all that matters." 

His next kiss is bruising. The sound of cellophane crushed between you makes you laugh. He kisses you through it, his smile pressed feverishly to yours, over and over and over.

༺༻

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed please consider reblogging, i promise it makes a difference to me <3

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

NINE: KISS ME GENTLY IN THE MORNING. 

When you awaken under the pink sky of dawn, your head is in Geto’s lap and the fireflies are gone. 

You quickly sit up and look around, momentarily confused from your slumber. You find yourself in a sleeping bag by the now-smoldering fire and empty soup pot. Last night, you and the Gunslingers slurped down the rest of the hearty soup and shared the bottle of Jack, full and drunk, and telling funny stories about your lives. 

You learned so much about them like how Geto is afraid of leeches after being covered in them when he got lost one time in a swamp or how Gojo does great impressions.

You also learned that while Gojo is a funny and sleepy drunk, Geto is looser, wanting to dance and sing. He has a beautiful voice, silky and deep. He sang while Gojo tried to force you to dance, pulling on your hands. 

After you expressed to them your tragic past, Gojo and Geto made it their mission to take your mind off of it and make you smile. At one point, Gojo with his cheeks a cute pink from the alcohol whispered to you, “Y’know, you have a nice smile. Happiness looks good on you, sugar.”

You had flushed and felt butterflies that you passed off as effects of the booze. 

But it didn’t give you a buzz like the duo did. For once, you felt happy. Under the starry sky in the sweet summer air among the fireflies and good company, you felt like you felt bubbly. You felt tingly. You felt like you could touch the moon.

And when you finally passed out with the duo after the night ended, you didn’t wake up from night terrors. You realize now for the second time since you met Geto and Gojo, you haven’t had a single nightmare. 

Maybe…could this be…because of them?

You turn and look down at Geto sleeping beside you. He is curled up beside you under a blanket, his black hair and lashes streaked with light from the sun. He looks so serene and beautiful. You flush at the sight, feeling like you’re invading something private. 

You don’t see Gojo, but you figure he’s out scavenging or taking a walk. Deciding to fully wake up and take a stretch, you need something other than breakfast this morning: you need a bath.

So you quietly leave Geto to sleep and head up to the hot spring. The pool of bubbling, steaming water surrounded by rocks and wildflowers looks appetizing to you…including the man already in it. 

You don’t expect to see Gojo already there, naked and leaning against the rocks, his toned arms tossed over the rocks and his head leaned back. You startle, immediately covering your mouth in shock. “Oh, my God!” you gasp.

The snow-haired outlaw tilts his head forward to see you and smiles. “Sorry,” he chuckles. “Did I scare ya?” 

You blink at him, forcing yourself to look at his face and not at his toned pecs, pink nipples, or down below at the water where you’re sure he’s pantsless. You instead look at his hands which you realize now you’ve never seen out of their gloves before. 

His fingers are long, perfect for piano playing, and his knuckles on his right hand is tatted with a rose. You feel a cold shiver run through you as you stare at it. You don’t why. Have you seen this symbol before? 

“I-I didn’t know the hot spring was occupied already,” you stutter, looking away. You feel like a pervert and you feel stupid for it. You’ve seen plenty of men naked before! Why is he so different?  “Sorry. I’ll just wait.” 

You begin to turn and hurry away, heart pounding wildly. “Why?” he asks, sounding baffled by the idea. “There’s plenty of pool to go around! …Or are you that repulsed by me?” 

You turn around, taking the bait. “No, I’m not!” you scoff, flushing with embarrassment. “I just don’t want to bathe with a naked guy that I just…”

When you see him begin to laugh, you roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you huff, irked. Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes mischievous and playful. “I just like seein’ you flustered. It’s cute.” 

Once again, you turn away and start to walk. “Aww, c’mon, little miss, don’t be like that!” he whines. “It’s just a little fun between friends. Ain’t we friends?”

You stop and side-eye him, mostly to not look at him too much. “I don’t know,” you shoot back. “Are we? And even friends can still have privacy. You’re still a very naked guy and us bein’ friends don’t change that.” 

You honestly don’t even know if you are friends. Your heart says yes after last night, but your mind is still confused. You still want to run and protect yourself. Not realizing your internal conflict, Gojo rolls his eyes. “Well, if you’re gonna have your panties in a bunch over this, I’ll be riiiight over here.” 

He scoots over to the far other side of the pool, yards away from your spot.  “See? Now you’ve got your space. I’ll even turn around so you can’t see me…unless ya want to.”

His pink lips curl into a flirty smile, making liquid heat pool into your core. “Ya like what you see, little darlin’?” he purrs, his gaze seductive and hooded. 

“Not on your life,” you huff, making him give a big, bellied laugh.

You kick off your boots and socks, edge up to the pool, and hesitantly dip a toe into the water. Sensing your hesitation, Gojo turns around and begins washing his back with homemade soap. You appreciate that. Quickly, you strip off your clothes and place your gun on a nearby rock at arm’s reach. 

Then you slip into the water, sighing as soon as the warm liquid hits your skin. Once in, he turns back around. “Need any soap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no, instead tossing you the bar over the water. You catch it, emitting an impressed whistle from him, and just awkwardly sit there, your chest and bottom half submerged in the steamy water. 

Gojo goes back to closing his eyes and relaxing, so you take that time to wash up. You wash your body slowly, lathering yourself up in the rosemary-scented soap and warm water. It’s such a pleasure and a privilege to do so.

Silence falls among you, comfortable yet awkward. Should you talk? It feels weird to just sit in such silence after last night. 

“I-I wanted to thank you for listenin’ to me last night,” you awkwardly say, the words foreign on your tongue. Gojo opens his eyes and looks briefly confused, but then you see the lightbulb flicker. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he chuckles. “I could tell ya needed to get that off your chest as we all sometimes need to.” 

You smile, glad that he’s not making a big deal out of it. You begin to wash your neck but stop when you pass the scar under your neck and you see those blue eyes watching you. “It’s from an outlaw I had trouble with,” you explain, self-conscious. 

But Gojo, ever the sweetheart, shakes his head. “It’s okay to show me your scars, y’know,” he chuckles. “I think they’re hot.” You laugh, taken aback by the compliment but also put at ease. 

“You’d be the first,” you murmur. The many men you’ve come across don’t like women scarred up, but you have them. Physically and emotionally. 

Suddenly, Gojo slides up against the rocks, enough to give you a peak of his lower torso. You want to ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing until you see the long, puffy, pink scar trailing from his hip to his ribcage. “Damn,” you gasp to yourself, not realizing that Gojo is watching you watch him. 

“Got shanked by Benji back when I was workin’ with him,” he explains. “He was upset with my quota of money brought in from doin’ his dirty work.” He grazes his fingers against the scar. “Never truly healed.” You can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s just as self-conscious as you are. You wonder if Geto has any scars too. 

“I think a tattoo would look sick there,” you comment. He snorts, nodding in agreement. “Geto thinks so too. Maybe someday.” Curiously, he nods at you. “You got any ink on ya?” 

You turn, showing him the pink flower tatted on your right backbone. “Just here,” you say, pointing at the tattoo. “An orchard, my birth mom’s favorite flower.”

You can feel Gojo’s eyes on you, making you feel like you’ve been dowsed in flames. “It’s beautiful,” he softly says, so genuine that it makes you burn. 

You turn back around, suddenly shy beneath his gaze and the comfort you feel from him and Geto. “I have to say, I never saw any of this comin’,” you giggle, more to yourself than to him. “I mean, just three days ago, I was fixin’ to kill you two and now we–” 

You pause, suddenly aware that Gojo is moving closer to you. You instinctively move back until you’re trapped between him and the rocks. “W-What are you doin’?” you demand, trying to move away from him.

He stops you, putting his arms on either side of you. “Don’t move,” he whispers, his tone firm. “Just follow my lead.” And then his lips are on yours. 

You’ve never been kissed in such a way. You’ve kissed many men in your lifetime, but none of them were as memorable or as mindblowing as this one. Gojo’s kiss is passionate, sweet, and��'oh, my God'–electric.

His pillowy-soft lips coax you to kiss him back until your mouths are moving as one. His hand moves to caress your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin as his tongue gently slides against your bottom lip. 

You slightly part your lips, allowing him access to you. His tongue slips inside of your mouth and swirls with yours, his lips still dancing passionately with yours. You can feel your body instinctively moving closer to his though your hands stay at your sides. Between your thighs, you throb, wanting more of him. Your hands tentatively move up to touch him, feeling him against you. 

But before you can though, he immediately pulls away and quickly yanks you behind him. You can’t even ask him what the hell he’s doing because he’s picking up your pistol and pulling the trigger three times, aiming up at a mountain peak. 

“What the fuck?!” you snap, angered, but that’s before you look up to where Gojo is aiming.

There, on one of the mountaintops towering over the hot spring, is a man. A man in black who clutches his chest and tumbles over the mountainside, his hat and gun tumbling in the wind alongside him. 

As soon as he does, you see heads sprout like weeds out of the mountains. At least twelve of them popping out from behind trees and rocks. Nothing but black hats, jackets, and gun barrels pointed straight at you and Gojo. 

An ambush, you realize. You’re being ambushed. 

“Duck!” Gojo shouts, immediately covering you as a spray of bullets begins to explode from the mountains.

You both crouch in the water beneath the rocks, bullets zipping past you to sink into the water and the grass surrounding the pool. Gojo keeps you trapped under the rocks until the bullets finally stop flying for a moment. “We need to get outta here!” you yell, pulling Gojo along to the edge of the pool. 

He stops you, giving you a firm look. “You get dressed and wake Geto up,” he orders. “I’ll hold ‘em off.” As fast as you can, you throw on the first thing you see–Geto’s denim jacket–and pull on your boots before Gojo gets out of the water butt-naked and starts shooting. 

Once the bullets start flying again, you quickly take cover between the trees and hurry down the cliffside, nearly sliding all the way down to Geto…who is still asleep. You pounce on him, shaking him awake. “Geto, wake up!” you shout.

The long-haired outlaw immediately leaps from his sleeping bag and rolls over to you straddles you, his gun at your temple, and a dark, menacing look in his eyes. Not at all like the Geto you’ve grown to know. 

When he realizes it’s you and not someone trying to off him, he immediately gets off of you only to duck as a bullet zips past him into a tree, spooking the horses. He takes your hand and drags you with him for cover. “What the hell is goin’ on?” he demands, pulling you behind a large rock. 

You cringe at the sound of the whinying horses and explosion of bullets from the mountaintops. “We’re bein’ ambushed,” you pant. “Gojo and I were in the pool and–” 

“Gojo and you were in the pool?” he interrupts, blinking at you. “Is that my jacket?” 

“Focus!” you snap. “He saved me from a bullet to the back of the head. I don’t know who these guys are, but it’s clear that they’re after us.” Slowly, you peek behind the rock just as another bullet flies past you and lands near the soup pot.

You see a man behind a tree near the hot spring, Gojo nowhere to be found. “There!” you call, pointing at the shooter. 

Geto turns and looks just as the shooter gets ready to reload. “Stay down,” he orders, his voice deep and on the hint of a growl, as he slips his gun out of his holster. He begins to shoot and you turn away, already knowing that Geto will hit his target. 

As you do, you see something. Something glittering from between the trees, yards away from the horses: the barrel of a rifle.

“Geto, look out!” you shout, quickly knocking him out of the way. You immediately aim for his attacker and shoot twice, smoke exploding from your pistol. You hear a grunt and the rifle drops. 

You look down at Geto once the shock has subsided.  “Are you okay?” you worriedly ask, staring down at him underneath you.

The handsome outlaw stares up at you, his eyes shining in the sunlight. “I definitely am now,” he murmurs. 

Though he isn’t touching you, you feel as if he has just ran his hands all over you. You know realize that all you’re wearing under his jacket are your panties that rub against the belt buckle of his jeans as you straddle him. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, soft, pink, and parted deliciously for you. You could lean down and kiss him now if you wanted to.

A pained, gargled groan stops you from possibly doing something that you’ll regret later. Quickly, you jump off of Geto and creep towards the shooter now lying faceup in the forest, his gun lying beside him. Blood blossoms from his chest and lower abandonem, the red liquid dripping out of his mouth. 

You cringe at the sight, feeling bad while also considering that he tried to kill Geto. Slowly, Geto kneels down beside the dying man and takes his limp right hand into his, taking off his glove. There, on his knuckles, is a black rose tattoo.

“That’s Benji’s symbol,” Geto states, narrowing his eyes at the tattoo. “These are his men.” 

He takes off his own riding glove and sure enough, the same rose tattoo sits on his right hand. You think back to Gojo’s rose tattoo and that same icy shiver run through you and your head throbs. Where have you seen this tattoo before? 

Before you can wonder about this any further, Gojo is zooming past you in his clothes and boots, hauling his white ass to his horse. “We need to get the fuck outta here!” he screams. “Grab whatever you can and let’s bounce!”

You now realize that the gun explosions from the mountaintops have stopped, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more. 

You three don’t stick around to find out. Quickly, you pack up as much as you can and mount your horses before speeding off down the road, to the next town.

[0oolookitsme]

A Messy Day

Type- One-Shot

Verse- Singer!Harry xCeo!Y/n

Word Count- 2.5k

Warnings- I literally never write angst and I guess it might be showing in this fic lmao.

A/N- I just hope you don't absolutely hate this, I just don't have any idea what couples would fight about, what would be a big or small deal for them! I already beg your pardon hahah <3

She doesn't know what she did that made him feel like that. She just cares for him and is in love with him- is that where she went wrong? Because if yes, then this might be the only mistake which will have wounded her so badly that she won't even speak to another human ever again.

She was just helping him calm down before the show, telling him all the positive things that could happen while he was on the stage as he was brushing his teeth. She was just coming onto the point of making memories when he just spat out the toothpaste, rinsed his mouth and went away humming back at her in a dismissive response.

She was left dumbfounded sitting on the bathroom counter, but she brushed it off thinking maybe he was just feeling better now. It hit her in the heart when she saw him rambling to Mitch instead and as much as she tried to cover up her disappointment by thinking that he maybe wanted some relatability, she couldn't help but leave the space immediately to just forget this ever happened.

And she had. Sitting on a wooden chair, she chatted away with the cooking crew to selfishly keep her mind away from the way Harry had stirred-up shit in the over-thinking part of her brain. But she was also curious to know about how it felt to cook at somewhere which isn't the most usual space for cooking and chef-ing around.

She had even befriended the female chef; Charlotte was her name. Charlotte had told her about her nickname often being 'chocolate' to sweeten y/n's mood. Maybe she had just sensed that something was off ...women things? Y/n has no idea.

"Is my soup ready?" Harry's head peeked inside the kitchen area and every head turned towards him except for y/n's as she truly cannot afford tearing up in front of so many people.

One of them chimed in to tell him that it isn't yet but should be in around five more minutes. "Can you bring it to my room, love?" He asked and there's no doubt he's talking to his girlfriend.

"Sure," she mumbles quietly, her back still turned to him. Hearing him pad away without much care about her strange behaviour towards him, she looked up again while inhaling deeply, trying to keep her emotions in control when all she wanted to do was lock herself up in a bathroom and cry.

Only Harry had this much control over her feelings, only him. No one could make her want to just cry this much but Harry, she realized today. No one could pull as many emotions out of her as he could- she knew that since before though. But all she can think of right now is them separating- him leaving her all alone to be specific, and regrets of opening up to him and letting her walls down for him start to fill in.

"You wanna try this and tell me how it tastes? I'm sure you have a pretty good taste," Charlotte pats her shoulders, causing her to blink out of the void.

"Of course," she perks up at the sound of food, getting off the chair. Somewhere inside, she's a lot grateful for Char, so she brushes her hand on her back, trying to let her know without having to say it out loud.

Turning to face y/n, Char hands her a small tea plate while mumbling 'here'. The loose liquid is moving around with ease in the circular utensil, so y/n can tell that it's the soup and not the curry to a dinner they'll be packing for the crew.

She carefully slurps on it and the hot feeling of it against the back of her throat makes her rolls her eyes at the back of head. It brings her comfort. "Fuck, this shit is so very good," she opens her eyes to look at a grinning Charlotte. "You were on the Vogue Magazine labeled as the best chef for a reason, eh?" She compliments the blushing chef.

Just as Char mutters a small 'thank you' Y/n realizes that she might be giving out wrong indications, especially with how close she's standing to her. "Sorry," she clears her throat while backing away a few steps while waiting for Char to pour the soup in a bowl so that she can take it to- oh hell no.

She'll do anything to avoid him right now but seeing everyone busy in something, she has to somehow work up the courage to face him.

Charlotte hums for y/n to take ahold of the bowl and she takes it graciously to feel the heat of the utensil in her palms for a mere while. With the spoon already dipped inside, she moves towards the exit with caution as to not move with too much movement or some soup might end up on floor- and she really doesn't want to increase someone's work in this already hectic schedule.

Taking a turn towards the room of the one and only, she knocks lightly before opening the door and placing her first step inside through the small gap between the door and its frame. Instantly the door is hardly pushed back to close it and she feels the muscles of her foot squish so hard that a hissed-yell escapes her mouth.

Just as she curses though, the person inside opens the door with a frown on their face. "Couldn't you have waited for me to open the door or at least told me that it's you? I'm literally in my briefs!" He whisper yells at her and a sheen layer of salty water spreads across her sight, making everything look blurry.

Usually, they both would've laughed at their silliness but not right now- not when some shit has already been churned up. They can't even make themselves fake smile at each other.

"Fuckin' shit Harry, no! You tell me to bring you your damn soup and expect a ghost to bring it to you?" She lightly yells at him, letting him take ahold of the bowl now. Just as he turns around to place his bowl on the vanity with a strange face, she runs away. She runs to save herself the dignity she's got and slams the bathroom door once she's in there.

Maybe they could've talked through their fight as he'd slurp on his soup and y/n would chew on some cashews, but there's no way she's going back so instantly now.

He's only been making her feel ashamed of herself since the fucking morning today and she can't bring herself to be vulnerable in front of him anymore for the day- hopefully. Why is she getting so fucking sensitive ever since he has entered her life, she has no idea and it's driving her insane. Maybe it's just her periods approaching but she can't help but accept that it's her Harry, her boyfriend, love of her life and fucking best friend who's made her feel like shit all day.

She looks up, facing the ceiling so that her tears don't slip out.

It all started this morning when she was just feeling generous with affections and maybe he was feeling like an adult, not liking her 'child-like' behaviour. Yep, he had asked her "You're acting so childish today, everything Okay?" when all she wanted to do was make a fountain on the top of his head.

She had laughed it off in the moment, but she just gets it now.

Breathing in and out while her tears get soaked back in, she thinks about every fun memory she can and passes herself a sweet smile in the mirror, waiting till her nose returns back to its normal and she suddenly starts looking pretty.

She opens the door and moves towards his room again, the pain in her foot having been thought away as she knocks and waits for him to open the door.

When Harry does open the door wide enough for her to enter, she slides in quickly, skidding on her socks quickly towards the sofa and picks up her backpack.

"Where are you going?" He asks her in a not-so-sweet-tone when he notices her slipping out of the room quietly and exhales in annoyance when she doesn't reply. All he wants is a quiet-cuddle session with his girlfriend, but she just can't stop talking and acting like a child. He's been waiting all day for her to realize that he's feeling down and needy and wants her warmth. Key word: realize; for her to realize without him having told her anything, not even a damn hint.

He's an adult, he should just spit it out and set things straight in front of her, tell her what he wants but no- he feels like a child who just wants to feel understood, so when she tries to provide him some good company by simply providing him with her love, he decides that she's the one acting childish.

He has no idea why he wants to feel understood; he clearly is by the people who he loves. And that's when he realizes, he is just playing around by not telling what he wants and is getting grumpier when the person he wants doesn't read his mind.

He guesses he's the one on the bad side right now, but that doesn't make him go and run for y/n because he's in his egotistic maniac mindset right now.

So, because his girlfriend ignoring him stroke his ego really bad, he sits down on the couch and finishes the rest of the soup which seems to have gotten absolutely cold by now. But that doesn't mean it isn't affecting the weird sensation on his tongue, which had gotten burnt during the early slurps of the soup.

He starts mumbling incoherent things randomly, shit-talking about everyone else to make himself better.

When y/n's head bobs in through the door again, he's ready to not react to her dismissing him but when she silently picks up her laptop's charger and moves to exit the room again, he bursts.

"Can you not give me the silent-treatment? Maybe just act like the grownup you are and tell me what's wrong?" He picks on her, setting out the words clearly pointing towards him to refer to her. And boy does he shrink on the inside when she scoffs.

But his words continuously fall deaf on Y/n's ears, as they are flooded by the sound of her own heartbeat racing and blood pumping through her arteries while she vigorously scratches that part of her brain internally which is playing the words that spilled from his mouth accidently on repeat; to get them erased from where they seem to have also imprinted themselves.

"Just shut up, y/n!" He had shouted at her when she was in the midst of telling him about a joke on their way here- and it honestly didn't affect her as much as the words he muttered under his breath while turning away from her to face the window instead did. "Don't even know why I brought y' with me. All you've been doing is treat me like a damn child and act childish yourself."

Trust her, she was trying to keep her mind off these moments but this one just won't leave her alone.

"Harry, do you realize who the fuck is being a child right now? It's you! Cause if you really were acting like an adult, you wouldn't need me to tell you what the fuck's wrong."

But it's all a game of better comebacks now, and y/n is not going to back down.

"All you have done today is make my day shit when all I did was try to make yours better. You made me feel fucking ashamed of myself, H." She gritted out the last part, tears brimming up to her waterline again as she tries to blink them away but fails. And she can see the alarm on his face, in his eyes but she cannot give two fucks right now. Perhaps, he realized that he was being a bitch?

"Love- I... I'm so sorry." He gets up, hurrying towards y/n to enclose his arms around her and when she doesn't push him away but continues to tell him about everything he told her that hurt her, he feels a knife twisting in through his stomach. He's just disgusted by himself that he made her cry. The woman he swore to keep happy- he made her cry.

When he hugs her, y/n can't help but feel like this fight is slipping out of her fist and being pushed under the carpet because she just started crying. But maybe this actually isn't as much of a big deal she's making it out to be.

"I know I disrespected you, and I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm the one who didn't communicate properly and expected you to read my mind," he shushes her, rubbing her back as she wipes her tears away.

At least he set the things out for her to learn what's wrong after seeing her cry, so that's a win. But she shouldn't have to cry to get him to fucking set things out.

She chuckles dryly at this. "You seriously made me think that you were gonna leave me simply because you didn't feel comfortable enough to communicate with me... Also, is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it is clearly not." She says, pressing her forearms on his chest to push him away.

"Lovie- don't be so hard on me, I'm sorry! I didn't realize what I was doing and-and why would you think I'm gonna leave you? Baby that's never happening, you're seriously stuck with me now 'cause my clingy ass ain't gonna leave you, nah." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Her eyes light up slightly at the affirmation but her face is still looking like a carved stone right now. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips but she settles it down by rolling her lips in. "I'm not going to forgive you so easily, H. I won't make a big deal out of this. You were feeling needy and felt that it'd be childish of you to just ask for what you wanted," she stopped to catch her breath. "I may have over-thought it all a little, but it still doesn't dismiss the feeling of me hurt. So, let's get it straight," she stops again to create some suspense as she makes a mischievous eye contact with him.

"First: I'm not scratching your scalp for a week. Second: No kisses till the next show is over. Third, dare you ask me to tell you jokes and lastly, I am not humming songs to you till you sleep because I'm a kid and well, it's adults who sing kids to sleep."

"You did not just make that third rule and say that!"

She giggles as she parts to move out of the room. "Could say the same for every time you opened your mouth in front of me today, Styles."

Going over all the rules in his head, Harry just knows that he indeed truly messed up today.

[icedmatchatae]

Glimpse of Us | KTH Chapter V: Same Old, Different New

Pairing: Problematic Idol Taehyung x Grad Student Reader

Genre: Idol AU, Ex-Childhood Best Friends into—, Angst (Hello, welcome to my angst central), Fluff (mainly in the flashbacks), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Summary: BTS’s V has been living a lavished and successful lifestyle, but underneath all of that, Kim Taehyung is far from the perfect image the media and fans made him out to be. All he wants is to relive the feelings of happiness and purpose in his life, but how can he when he left behind those memories years ago? The same memories, he hopes to see a glimpse of.

Warning: Underage alcohol consumption (in the flashback), everyone is basically in this chapter pls bear with me lol

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I'm so sorry for not posting last night HHHH I got sucked into doing something last minute but please enjoy!

Chapter V: Same Old, Different New || Series Masterlist

“Hyungie, open up.” You say as you held a spoonful of fish stew in front of your ill bedridden best friend.

Being at the ripe age of nine, Taehyung thought it was a good idea to play on one of the days of Geochang’s rainy season. Being his best friend, you were easily influenced despite the protests of both his parents and your grandparents. You both thought they were just there to ruin your fun, but in reality, it was to protect you because days after you got sick but not Taehyung for some miracle.

However, Taehyung made it his goal to take care of you such as feeding you, tucking you in bed, putting a cold cloth on your heated forehead, and giving you disgusting ginger lemon tea to help your sore throat.

Eventually, you got better within the week, but it was Taehyung’s turn to get sick and you immediately felt bad that he got it from you. Nonetheless, you made it your goal as well to care for your best friend.

Taehyung opened his mouth and took in the delicious content. He was pampered by the Gods, or in this case, you. You did the same thing, but better—his words, not yours. You fluffed his pillows, cuddled with him since you were immune to any sickness, and scratched his scalp to his liking.

“You’re the best at taking care of me.” He cheesed, wiggling in happiness under his blankets.

“Not as much as you did with me! Look I’m better!” You countered, giving him more spoonfuls of soup. “Plus, I’m the one who got you sick…”

“True, but I would be upset if it were anyone else. You’re an exception.” He reassured you. “If I got it from Eunjeong and Sungyeon, there would be problems.” You laughed at his sayings.

“You’re such a mean eldest brother.” You joked to which he pouted. “But you’re the best of best friends.”

The sides of his lips lifted upwards forming his rectangular smile. “Impossible. You’re number one, Blue.”

You hummed and shrugged, “Maybe to you. But you’re number one to me.” You tilted the bowl towards him, so he can finish it all up. He slurped the remaining in the dish and gasped in satisfaction, thanking you a million times more.

“Taehyung, stop. You don’t need to do that.” You pushed away the chopsticks holding a piece of tuna that Taehyung pushed in front of your face.

The morning arrived sooner than you liked and the hospital was filled with more murmurs and rushing health professionals from behind the door of your room. You were tired as hell, but the nurse suggested you eat first before going back to sleep. You were assigned to eat three meals daily due to your previous eating habits, so the tray before you had all the nutrients you needed for breakfast.

Though you expected to be alone by now, Taehyung was still right by your side. It made you curious that he was here and not at home. Didn’t he have like…a busy life as an idol? Now he was trying to feed you food.

You were a bit embarrassed by it but more so uncomfortable at how he was being. You remembered how you used to take care of one another when the other was sick, but this was different.

“But you need to eat, Blue.” He frowned. “Plus lemme take care of you like when we were younger.” He pushed, but the blank stare in your demeanor made him put the utensils down. You sighed in relief so that you could finally eat on your own.

“Don’t call me Blue. I may have said yes but you haven’t earned anything yet for you to call me that. That was before and now is different. Do you understand me? I also can eat for myself, it’s not like my limbs aren’t working. I’m grown too.” You informed with a stern tone as you mouthed a spoonful of rice. You saw him frown, biting his lip and nodding. You hated that you felt guilty for being cruel but it was true. You couldn’t let him in that easily. “But I appreciate what you’re doing for me. You know you can leave right?” You eased him, noticing how tensed he was before.

He nodded before licking his lips as a habit. “I know, but I don’t want you to be alone here. I remember how you get…”

He did it again, but this time you let it slide. You scrunched your face at the hard reality of those words. You really hated being by yourself, especially in new environments. You’ve been in Seoul for a little over half a year, but everywhere you went didn’t seem as right. Most likely because you were alone for the majority of the time, but you couldn’t do anything so you had to suck it up and get used to it.

“Thank you again.” You told him, politely smiling.

“No need to thank me, Bl—I mean, ___.” He chuckled nervously as he watched you eat more and more, looking appreciative at how you were stuffing your cheeks.

The atmosphere was somewhat awkward, but it wasn’t as bad as before. It just…needed some getting used to again. Taehyung was a person you held many memories with, then he vanished for years and now he was back, so it was difficult to approach it without acknowledging the gap and distance between you two. But hey, it was something.

“So…” You cleared your throat. “How long do I have to be here?”

“I told them a month because you needed to rest, but I knew you would complain…”

“And you’re right about that.” You responded, sipping on some orange juice.

“So the doctors compromised with two weeks,” Taehyung informed as he drank his hot chocolate. You pondered that he was still anti-coffee after all these years, but never told him.

“Two weeks is too long. I don’t have any illness or broken anything really. I still have work and scho—”

“While you were out, Kenji and Seojoon Hyung were with me before they left for the night. Kenji told me to tell you that you’re off until you were in stable condition.” He reported as he leaned back into his chair.

“But—”

“He also mentioned that I should fight you until you agreed. His words, not mine.” The idol grinned, remembering the little complaint the younger man displayed. But then the smile vanished as to why he took the advice from someone that barely knew you. Also though Kenji meant no harm, it felt like poison in the idol’s veins every time you interacted with your coworker.

You slapped your palms over your eyes and groaned. “Then he mustn’t know how expensive staying at a hospital is. It’s gonna cost me a for—”

“No, I paid for everything.” He shook his head before you looked at him flabbergasted.

Your jaw dropped as you blinked dumbly, “No, you shouldn’t have. Stop—”

“Why not? ___, you haven’t taken care of yourself properly. You were literally dehydrated and starving yourself, in addition to putting all this unnecessary stress on you. Kenji told me you’re working seven days now while still in school!” Why did Kenji know so much about you? Taehyung grew concerned and wanted to know who your coworker exactly was. “I know we’re still in a weird purgatory with our friendship that we rekindled three hours ago, but I still care for you, if not more than before, whether or not we grew apart. I don’t like when you do this to yourself, you of all people should know. It’s not healthy, and you know I’m right.”

He was scolding, and you were pissed, but you couldn’t deny that he was right. Similar events happened like this where you would faint in school or at home. They weren’t chronic, but it was mainly due to having so much stress at a very young age. Your body went into overdrive at certain points where it couldn’t handle thus blacking out. Stressors came from socializing, helping your family farm on the weekends, your elderly grandparents aging, studying in school, the list could go on and vary by the person.

Taehyung was there for almost all of your fainting and stood by you while holding your hand to ensure that you weren’t feeling as stressed. He’d scold you, kinda like now, but it was because he was worried. He tried doing the most for you, whether it was being the first to speak to someone, to helping you on the farm to assisting you and your grandparents with some daily stretches, to reduce muscle tension.

“Y—you’re right…” You exhaled as you glanced at him. His pupils dilated with his lips apart, surprised that you were being levelheaded with him rather than yelling. “This was my first faint in Seoul, so I’m sure everyone except you didn’t know what to do.”

Taehyung hummed faintly before his eyebrows pushed together, “Did you faint after…you know…I—” He hated mentioning it, but it happened. Fortunately, you knew what he was talking about so you nodded.

“A lot during my undergraduate years actually…” This brought an aching frown onto the idol’s face. “I was never alone though. I had roommates who helped and it was usually surrounded by crowds. Although it was sometimes too much for them…”

Saturated silence covered the room, though it was even lighter compared to a couple of minutes ago. Maybe it was that you were both “catching up,” but this wasn’t something you’d expect with “catching up.”

Nevertheless, Taehyung reached for your hand and opened your palm out. Using his thumbs, he applied pressure to it, thumbing down your skin. He has done this before as past time while you were both doing nothing but having your quality time. “I wish for you to never go through with that again. If so, I hope that it would happen when you’re with me.” He spoke timidly, being careful with his wording. “Please take care of yourself. I don’t wanna see you in a hospital again unless you’re giving birth.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you tried hiding the laughter within you, “You’re a shithead, you know that?”

“Mmm, no. I’ve heard asshole and dick.” He shrugged as a light smirk formed on his lips. You looked away as you continued finishing your food. “But I really am serious when I say to take care of yourself. Now if you want me to take c—”

“I’m not making you do that.”

“Then you take care of yourself.” He stated. “Saying you’re a grown woman, yet you drink three cans of Coke as a meal??”

You pouted, having no comeback so you finally let it go and agreed. “Fine, but the hospital bill. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I want to and I can. It’s all part of caring for you, okay?”

You sighed before nodding. You were still careful of him, but you accepted his presence back into your life. Improvements were being made slowly but surely. You wondered how this would go.

The nurse came by again to give Taehyung a complimentary meal. Perks of being an idol you assumed but as she settled the tray down, she turned her head to say, “By the way, Mr. Kim. There’s someone outside of the room. She said she has been notified by one of the people on the entry list for Miss ___.”

Before Taehyung could even speak, you interjected. “It’s probably Halmeoni. Kenji must have told her where I was and wanted to check up on me. Send her in.”

The nurse has a puzzled expression but merely nodded as she left the room. Taehyung shifted back at you and said, “You have a nice boss…”

“Well, ye—” You barely completed your sentence as the door slammed open, flinching you and Taehyung. Your eyes searched for the sound, then creased your forehead at this newcomer. She was definitely not Halmeoni, not even being a Halmeoni. 

But Taehyung knew exactly who she was. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, dressed in her athleisure wear, yet sported a YSL crossbody bag. Her face writhed with frustration, but eyes bounced off of him and you, someone who she doesn’t know.

The idol got up from his seat and faced his body to his girlfriend. “C-Clara—“

“Tae, where have you been? You’ve been gone the entire night and missed our morning walk together.” Clara complained as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Since you were with Seojoon Oppa, I called him and ask where you were and he said the hospital. I came right away thinking you were hurt, but the front desk told me you were a visitor and—”

Her eyes landed on you. Nothing on you or your face screamed familiarity to her mind. Her brain couldn’t click at the sight of you, but her thoughts questioned who were you and how you knew her boyfriend. But despite looking rather sickly, the socialite deemed the visual of South Korea thought you were pretty.

Intimidatingly and competitively pretty.

“Who’s she?” Clara simply asked Taehyung who was practically a goldfish.

No thoughts were running through his mind right now. He didn’t expect to let his girlfriend meet his childhood best friend. If anything, that was at the very bottom of his thoughts list. Yet it still happened…earlier than he wanted, and when did he want it? Never at all.

Judging by her behavior, questions, and the worried look plastered on her face, you recollected the subtle memory of Jungkook revealing that Taehyung had a girlfriend of five years.

This was probably the girlfriend in front of you.

Unnoticeably to the two, you scrutinized her. You bit the inside of your cheeks. She looked familiar, probably someone famous but not in the entertainment industry. Regardless, she was drop-dead gorgeous, making you feel a bit insecure. So this was Taehyung’s type? Huh, couldn’t blame him. He was always uniquely handsome, a stunning visual.

But he was being an idiot right now by not answering his girlfriend’s question. You didn’t want her to accuse you of something. She looked approachable—kinda not really—, but your intuition says she could use her power over you.

So you decided to step in. “You must be…” Her irises diverted to you again as your brain worked its magic. “Clara, his girlfriend? Taehyung has told me so much about you.”

The idol finally resumed as he snapped back towards you with a stupefied look. The both of you knew it was a straight-up lie, but you eyed him out before laying them back on his pissed-off girlfriend and smiled. “I must say you’re very pretty and graceful in person.”

All of sudden, the tension peeled off her body when a smile formed on her. “He has?” She cooed as she stepped closer to the bed. You nodded and grinned. Fuck, you were prettier up close, an approachable and family-winning face, she thought. “Tae, aren’t you gonna introduce me to her? I mean she already knows bu—”

You giggled and Clara couldn’t help but observe your every move. Meanwhile, Taehyung rolled his eyes but guessed it was time. “So Clara, this is ___ ___. She’s my childhood best friend from Geochang.” He presented you with such precision, hiding an exciting smile. But then glanced at Clara who kept her stare at you. “___, this is Na Clara. My…girlfriend.”

“Childhood best friend?” The socialite pointed out before looking at her boyfriend. “You never told me you had a childhood best friend.”

Taehyung scratched the back of his head, not out of nervousness but you could sense a bit of irritation, but Clara doesn’t notice a thing. “Uhh, we had a falling out before I debuted. I thought it was over…But we met again a couple of weeks back when I was out with Seojoon Hyung and Wooshik Hyung.”

“Oh, so it’s been a while since you reunited with her?” Clara questioned, biting her pink-coated lips. “Why didn’t you tell me about her now, at least?”

Taehyung seemed appalled at her behavior. “Why does it—”

Oh, no. You refused to listen to this potential fight, so you butted it again. “Uhh, I’m practically irrelevant in his life now. He’s right about the childhood best friend, but it’s more was. I’m just an acquaintance. It was nice of him to visit—“

“___, you’re not irrelevant.” Taehyung gloomed, but you didn’t care as you were trying to save his ass.

“Either way, it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.” You greeted the socialite before glaring at the idol. “I think you should go and say whatever you have to say elsewhere.” As if you conversed this with him through your mind, he got the gist that you didn’t want to see an argument happening. Yet his eyes widened for a sign of your reassurance of being alone. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Kenji texted that he’ll visit later today.” It was another white lie, but he may come knowing how much his grandparents would nag him to bring you homemade dishes. 

Taehyung’s eye twitched at the mention of Kenji. He wanted to say a thing or two but restrained himself as he wasn’t in a position to do so. So he gave in and nodded. “Be safe, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Don’t worry so much, Mr. Big-Shot Idol. I’ll be fine.” You smiled comfortingly, which eased Taehyung.

“It was nice meeting you too!” Clara spoke back, waving goodbye. “Maybe we can hang out sometime.”

You didn’t know if you wanted that, but you nodded civilly. You began to question if bringing Taehyung back into your life was the right decision.

-

“I can’t believe you fucking came!” Taehyung banged the front door open, stomping inside and through the entranceway. Clara closed the door behind her and rushed behind him. She watched as he paced around the living room, not caring if he had shoes inside the house. “Barging into the room like that, have you no shame at all?”

“I do have shame! Why’d you think I waited outside until I got permission.” Clara reasoned.

“Didn’t Hyung tell you that I wasn’t hurt?”

“No, he told me that you’ve been at the hospital the whole night if you weren’t back home.” She explained. He groaned at Seojoon’s choice of words. “He didn’t say anything else because I hung up and came rushing! You had me worried sick! I thought something happened to you!”

“Well, I’m fine as you can fucking see.” The idol said sardonically.

Clara sighed, trying to be as rational as possible. “So, that girl…what even happened anyway?”

Taehyung slummed himself onto the couch and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. 

“She fainted at work because of exhaustion and stress. She tends to do that, so I had to make sure she’s fine since she has no family in Seoul.”

The socialite wrinkled her face, gathering more questions. “And she really is your childhood best friend? You’re not ch—”

“Why do you always think I’m cheating if I encounter another girl or hang out with anyone but you?” The idol retorted as he puts pressure on his temples. “I gave you no fucking reason for you to accuse me of cheating. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do! I ju—”

“You just nothing.” He interrupted. “Don’t stay shit like that if there’s no reason.”

“I’m sorry! It’s just…” She bit her lips, rubbing her bicep at his statement. “She’s really pretty, Taehyung.”

Taehyung squinted his eyes at her, incredulous to say the least. “How do you even want me to respond to that? Aren’t you like getting compliments and praise left and right? This was never an issue?”

Her face twisted then shrugged, “It’s not. I’m just saying…How long have you known her?”

Taehyung protruded his lips out, debating if he should tell her. He wasn’t necessarily against sharing things about you, but it was different with his…girlfriend. It didn’t feel right to do so, Taehyung knew deep down.

However, if he wanted you to be back in his life, this also meant showing you to others who were a part of his life after you, including Clara and his other members. He couldn’t keep you all to himself. He felt iffy about it, but he had to no matter what. “Well, if you must know, we’ve known each other for almost twenty years. But I haven’t seen her for nearly half of it. She’s known Kim Taehyung before all of this.”

Clara had something in her eyes that Taehyung couldn’t figure out. Wondering? Curious? Jealous? It was difficult to explain, but he didn’t think it was a bad sign. To save his brain all the trouble, she finally spoke. “How do you feel meeting her again?”

The idol was taken aback, not expecting her to ask that. It was weird but somewhat appreciative. “Uhh, it’s good? She kinda hates me, but she’s willing to be friends again.”

“Why would you say she hates you?”

“Like what was said earlier, we had a falling out.”

“Why?”

“Jesus, how many questions do you have?” He fussed.

“She’s literally the only person who knew you the longest other than your family. She probably knows everything about you and I’m curious.” She casually replied.

“Maybe more than she admits though…” He mumbled and she couldn’t get what he said. But before she could ask him, he went ahead and said, “We had a falling out because I was a complete dick to her and basically ignored her after moving to Seoul.”

Taehyung closed his eyes, not knowing how painful it must have been for you. You needed him, but he wasn’t there for you. The guilt oozed inside him. Though he couldn’t make it up, he hoped that he could rekindle your friendship and regain your trust in little to no time.

“So she was just a friend?” Clara brought him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, why?” Taehyung answered swiftly. She blinked at her boyfriend whilst he stared back in confusion. He gave no other indications. Strange…he told the truth but there was a faint sparkle in his eyes.

“Well, if she’s a part of your life again, then maybe we can hang out with her. Bring her to parties, don’t you think?” Clara suggested. “After all, she has no one in Seoul.”

Taehyung hated that he liked her idea. He agreed that he should bring you into some get-togethers, but not spend time with his girlfriend and best friend together. Yet it was part of his way into helping you heal your scars and open you up to trusting people again, including himself. He wanted you to get back on your feet socially, and that was something he wanted to do.

-

Weeks went by and you were still cautious of Taehyung, but you couldn’t help to admit that you missed him. You forgot how much his aura made your day. He looked weary most of the time, but his demeanor spun a 180 when he came to visit you. Sometimes he was with Jimin, Jungkook, Seojoon, and even Clara shockingly. There were moments where she’d watch your every move but nothing too intense. The girl seemed friendly and wanted to get to know you a little better, but of course, you were still traumatized from the past girls who approached you. Heck, even the others wanted to know you too.

But once he was alone, he was reassured that they meant no harm and were genuine. More or less for Clara, but she was his girlfriend after all. Despite all, Taehyung made it a routine to visit you while you were in the hospital, interrogating you if you ate or drank water which you did.

By the time, you were discharged. You glowed radiantly like a goddess and plumper in the face and cheeks, looking like the Blue he knew and loved. Though you told him not to, he always called you Blue in his head and sometimes with Jungkook and Jimin.

You still couldn’t go back to work as your boss instructed you to come back a month after leaving the hospital, which was bullshit from your perspective. But it gave you time to rest and focus on school. You were doubtful of it, but knowing you couldn’t do anything about it, you nodded. It was difficult to find a job as is, and finding a job that worked with your hours was a needle in the haystack.

But still, you were grateful for your bosses. They even closed an hour or two within their business hours to visit you. They gave you so many side dishes and stews while ranting to you about how they missed their favorite worker and how terrible Kenji was by himself.

While Kenji was there too.

More weeks passed and you were finally able to work again. You went back to working five days now. Halmeoni refused to give you any more, even insisted on doing less but you denied it and stuck with your regular shifts. With that, Taehyung also visited and ate at the restaurant. You were still his server, but this time, you actually held a conversation with him and treated him warmly. There was still distance, he could sense that kilometers away but he enjoyed every minute of it.

One night, he and Jungkook stayed back and helped clean the restaurant up. Your bosses and Kenji didn’t deny the free labor from the handsome rich idols, so you let it be. Less stress for you maybe.

Kenji left quickly for the day as he had a group project to work on, so you were left alone to close up. Once you hung your apron on the hook, you turned to Jungkook who called your name. You shouldered your bag and tilted your head. “So my birthday is coming up, and I was wondering if you would like to come.”

You scrunched your nose, and a million thoughts ran through your mind. “I-I’m invited? You really want me to come?”

Jungkook gawked blankly at you. You looked so serious and worried. He turned to his older member and Taehyung only nodded at your behavior. “O-of course, ___. I’m inviting you right now! I’d love for you to come.”

“Oh.” You said quietly. You bit your lips and fiddled with your fingers, wondering what to say. “Ummm, when and where is it?”

“It’ll be next Saturday! You don’t work weekends right?” You shook your head, making Jungkook grin in happiness. “It starts at 8 PM. It’ll be at Taehyungie Hyung’s house.”

“Why is it at his and not yours?”

Jungkook blushed hard at your thoughtless question. He felt a bit embarrassed to say it, but Taehyung chimed in. “Jungkookie’s house is not fit to invite guests. It’s not messy, just structured unusually.”

“I just have a lot of stuff…” The younger member tried defending himself, but it didn’t seem solid.

“So you think you could come ___?” Taehyung asked, hoping you say yes.

“I…I love to, but who’ll be there?” You were asking many questions because you feared it would be a full-on party to which you’d take back your acceptance.

“Don’t worry. Hyung says you’re not comfortable with big parties.” You eyed Taehyung out for exposing your shyness. “I’m also shy too, so I don’t have many friends. It’ll just be our members, some partners, maybe some of Tae’s Wooga Hyungs, my close idol friends, and my brother is coming into town. It’ll just be a grilling dinner, really. I promise. Maybe even karaoke.” Jungkook comforted your hesitancy and you appreciated him for that.

In fact, besides getting closer to Taehyung, you’ve also grown fond of Jungkook and Seojoon. Though you barely spoke to Seojoon, he was there for many occurrences but he seemed comforting. Jimin seemed too much for you that you were overwhelmed, but he meant well. Also, his eye contact scared you. Jungkook was a good ground. Maybe because he was younger and shy like you.

You nodded before smiling tenderly. A breathtaking sight in both Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung being that it was been a while since he has seen you smile so genuinely. Jungkook being that he may have a teeny tiny crush on you. You just looked so gentle. “I’ll be there, but I may need the address.”

“I’ll send it to you,” Taehyung announced.

“Why not me?” Jungkook pouted.

“It’s my house address.”

“Point taken.”

-

It was the following weekend and the older members were preparing the food on the table. Jungkook was busy greeting his guests, Jimin and Wooshik were having a conversation, Clara did some last-minute cleaning and Taehyung was scared shitless for you.

This was the first time he asked you to hang out beyond your work. Well, technically Jungkook asked but it still counted. This will also be the first time you actually meet almost everyone new in his life. This was new territory for you, because not only being introduced to new people, but these were also idols, artists, and influencers. He knew you were nothing like them, you probably knew too. He knew you were nervous and scared to be outside of your comfort zone. He only wished to keep you calm and relaxed the whole night through.

But for him? Taehyung didn’t really understand you. When you first met again, you ignored him. Then, you were vile and snappy. Next, you were still mean but at least you spoke to him civilly. Now you were a little bit approachable. You were hot and cold, mainly cold but he didn’t know where he stood in this. Were you even willing to be in a friendship with him? You don’t seem like you wanted it, despite the friendlier exchanges. He felt lost and didn’t know how to talk about it with you.

“Babe, you okay?” Taehyung felt arms wrapped around his waist, startling him. He looked down and spotted Clara looking curious, noticing how tense he was. “You seem frazzled.”

“Just a lot going on.” He replied. Her grip loosened as she lets go but held one of his hands.

“Are the sessions doing okay?”

His jaw hardened. Of course, she’d ask that. “Yeah, they’re great.” He answered, but sarcasm rang around it.

She hummed before grabbing a filled glass of wine from a tray. She sipped the content before saying, “Who else is Kookie inviting?” She scanned the room, getting more and more packed with familiar faces.

As if Jungkook heard, he stopped by the couple. “Where’s ___?”

“You invited her too?” Clara’s eyes widened in shock.

“Yeah, she’s my friend too.” Jungkook cheesed in pride, but it made Taehyung’s eyes twitch. “Is she coming?”

The front door opened and the three’s attention went toward who was coming in. The two youngest members thought it was you, but three men stepped in—Wooga Squad, Hyungsik, Seojoon, Sunghwan, and Namhyuk. Taehyung pierced his eyes at Namhyuk. It seemed that he finally had time to hang out after months. It was good to see, he thought, but still felt weirded out.

Clara waved at the older men and greeted them. She excused herself to hug all three of them, happy to see their attendance. Her boyfriend observed their interactions, feeling nothing, and had no comments. 

“Did she text you?” Jungkook asked, growing worried. “Did you send her the right address?”

“Chill, bro.” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow. “She’ll come, she doesn’t back out. She’s probably just worried or lost. I live a little out of Seoul.”

“Doesn’t she know us though?”

“Yeah, but it’s different than showing face. She needs to be eased into these kinds of things.” Taehyung informed the younger as his eyes went towards the door. “Believe me, I know.”

Jungkook raised his brow at him. “Really? You know.” He knew you were his childhood best friend, but he acted like no shit happened between you two until recently. “Hyung, she’s not fifteen anymore. It’s different.”

But Taehyung diverted his eyes, staring seriously at his member. “Whether she’s fifteen or twenty-five, I know her. Things are different now, but there are still those same old things I know too well like the back of my hand.” The conversation ended there, but there were still some things Jungkook wanted to say. But he went against them, or else people would know about his interest in you.

But Taehyung knew by the looks of it and he didn’t like it one bit.

Taehyung’s phone rang and he instantly checked who it was—you were calling. He excused himself away from Jungkook so that he doesn’t hear your conversation. Once he was at a distance from the crowd, he answered and greeted you.

“I think I’m here?” You announced through the speakers. “These houses are too big and it took me an hour to get here.”

“Why didn’t you call me to come to get you? You would have been here sooner.”

“You’re literally hosting it at your house. I could never ask you that.” You countered. He heard shuffling in the background, most likely you were carrying something else. “It’s fine because I was running late anyway.”

“You know you can knock, right?” He gazed at the entrance, waiting for some kind of sound.

“I know, but…well, I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes. I even saw Seojoon and the others go in but I hid behind a car.”

“What, why?”

“I’m nervous, Taehyung.” You squeaked, breathing slowly. “People like you, they don’t like me as much.”

He hated your doubts, wanting to take them away from you. “Don’t say that, ___. You know almost half of them and they like you. The rest will like you too.”

“You think so?”

“Of course and I never lie to you.”

You respired, “Okay, but like can you get me? I feel awkward coming in by myself.”

He smiled pleasantly. “Yeah, I’ll be there. See you soon.” You ended the call and Taehyung began walking through the guests.

“Is ___ here?” Jungkook begged him once the call ended. 

“___’s coming?” Jimin’s eyes shined in glee.

“Wait, ___?” Yoongi heard your name. “Your best friend, ___?”

“Why is she coming? Did you two make up?” Hoseok wondered. “Jungkook, you know about this?”

“I invited her!” The youngest publicized. “She’s my friend now!”

Wooshik gasped, “You brought the cute waitress friend from the restaurant?”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh my God, before anyone else speaks, yes to all—Wait, why are you calling her cute—You know what? Never mind. She’s here actually, but don’t stare at her like some woodland creature! She’s nervous about meeting all of you so cut her some slack.” His eyes roamed his friends who stood quietly, even nodding. “I’ll go get her.” He resumed his walk out. 

“Wait, why not me?” Jungkook asked.

“She asked me to,” Taehyung muttered before opening the entrance and stepping outside.

The idol eyeballed over his driveway and front lawn, but there were still no signs of you. He walked down the porch stairs and called your name. All of sudden, a neatly curled head of hair popped up from behind a parked car. You walked around the vehicle, fully revealing yourself to him and Taehyung’s irises widened.

In addition to your hair styled softly curled, this was the first time he saw you in makeup. It was natural and enhanced, but you had a touch of red on your lips. You usually bare-faced into work, most likely because you were too tired to care. But what made him blown away was the dress you wore. A faint tangerine hue midi dress with thin straps that had floral patterns precisely spread across the fabric, the skirt of the dress flowed like a mermaid. You paired it off with some nude block heels.

Taehyung gulped at your appearance. It was so you like how he remembered, but so… mature and grown. This really was you, his best friend ever since he was young. His Blue. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you until you clear your throat.

“Stop staring, it doesn’t help my anxiousness.” You went up to him and pushed the tray of confectionery into his hands.

“S-sorry.” He apologized before looking down at what you gave him. He inspected it a little longer before he gasped in utter disbelief. “Are these…”

“Yes, they’re my butter mochi.” You finished his ask with a reply. “I didn’t have time, nor money to buy him something. I also don’t know what an idol would want besides name-brand things. I slept late last night to make them…Do you think he’ll like it?”

His eyes met your worried ones, but he couldn’t help to find endearment in your concerns. “Of course, ___. He’ll love them. Jungkook is literally a hyena with any food.”

You exhaled as you flattened your dress down, “Is this too much? This isn’t even mine. I had to borrow this from Kenji’s sister and she lent me some make—”

“___, you’re blabbering.”

“I know I told you I was nervous, but is it really showing?”

“Unfortunately, it is.” He spoke honestly, to which you groaned. “But again, you’ll be okay. With all the hype Jungkook and Jimin have been giving you, I’m sure you’ll be greatly loved.” You rolled your eyes at the thought of those two being blatantly obvious with their flirting. You also knew that Jungkook had a little crush on you. “You know Jungkook has a crush on you right?”

“Don’t even remind me. I feel bad because I don’t. I barely know the guy too.” You vocalized into the air. For some reason, your rejection of his member mitigated his worries. He knew Jungkook would be upset about it, but at least it wouldn’t be as much of a problem. 

“Let’s go inside. Everyone’s dying to meet you.” Taehyung guided you toward the entrance. He had his hand on the knob and before he twisted it, he stared at you once more and said, “You look beautiful, by the way.” He averted back to the door to open, and it was a good thing he was focused on that otherwise he would have seen the rosiness of your cheeks creeping up.

As you entered and took your shoes off, you tried your best to push negative thoughts and useless concerns out of your head. You cheered yourself on that Taehyung was right about them liking you. Once you reached the end of the entranceway, you felt many pairs of eyes on you like you were new meat. Technically, you were so you viewed them back with big doe-eyes. You gripped your hands together, playing with them to ease yourself.

“Everyone, meet ___! She’s my childhood best friend from Geochang.” Taehyung presented you to his friends who ogled at your form.

You grinned followed by a wave or two at his members and other guests you didn’t know besides the ones you saw at your work. “Hello, nice to meet you all.”

“JK, she made her famous butter mochi. It’s the best thing in the whole world.” Taehyung walked towards his youngest member and handed him the tray.

“I’ll eat these with pride and honor, ___. Thank you!” Jungkook praised and you chuckled with satisfaction. Hoseok eyed the treats out, but the youngest pushed them away from his eyes to see.

Meanwhile, the rest continued to peer in your direction. You didn’t know what to do. Though your reflex was to cling onto Taehyung like before, it would be questionable, especially with Clara’s eyes on you. They were filled with blankness, but still. So you stayed still and tapped on your appendages.

“You’re ___?” Seokjin was the first among them to ask. You nodded then came more questions. “You were the one who talked to Taehyung late at night when we were trainees?”

You laughed nervously, cringing at how you were being. “Yeah, it was a long time ago but…you remembered?”

“How could I forget losing my sleep because of that?” Yoongi added in, making some of the crowd laugh. “Always hearing damn laughter from the other side of the room.”

“You’re pretty.” Namjoon blurted out, grabbing the attention of everyone, particularly Taehyung. “Like, super attractive.”

“Isn’t she?” Wooshik cheesed. “Yah, you look healthier too. I’m so happy for you.”

“Good to see the voice that haunted our sleep,” Hoseok mentioned jokingly. “I mean it in the nicest way possible.”

“Oh, thank you.” You responded but it sounded like a question. The pink hue crept back up into your cheeks. “Uhhhhh…”

Jimin came into the conversation, “You know ___ is single—”

“Okay, we’re not getting into that,” Taehyung interjected as he went to your side. “Feel free to get to know ___, but not too much.” He focused his pupils on Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jimin. “Go easy on her. This is her first party in Seoul.”

Jimin then linked his arm around yours, surprising you as you gawked at his action. “Come, ___. Sit by me tonight.”

You were about to protest, but you were getting dragged towards the table with Jungkook and Wooshik following suit, asking you so many questions. You turned back to see Taehyung bewildered with his mouth open.

You were stolen from him.

Taehyung felt a smaller hand intertwined with his, knowing that it was his girlfriend. Clara looked at him, but he continued to look at your overwhelmed stature as Namjoon asked you about your schooling.

The socialite giggled lightly and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Just enjoy yourself.” Taehyung hummed gingerly, knowing you’ll be okay but kept an eye on you the whole night through.

-

You would think that winning the soccer championship games in your second year of high school called for a celebration. Even Taehyung thought so, but he didn’t think it would be this vast. 

It felt like everyone and their moms were here squished up together, shoulder to shoulder in this house. Taehyung practically bulldozed over people to get to his destination and he couldn’t quite indicate where his destination was with all these invitees.

His captain and sunbae, Jungjae, hosted a “small” get-together at his house to which Taehyung got granted permission by his parents and brought you along to jubilate with him. But once you arrived, you noticed his parents weren’t around, more people than the team multiplying by the minute, older ones who brought alcohol and juice, and breaths running down your necks. 

Neither of you expected it, and to his dismay, Taehyung was ripped away from you as his teammates were greeting and introducing him to their friends and it just went downhill. He got pressured into drinking the bitter taste of soju as a team bonding. Now he maneuvered his way through the sardines of bodies, trying to figure out where you were. He scoped the area, hoping to some kind of characteristic of you. He was near the back of the house, noting the lawn with the large pool in the middle of it. Jungjae was from a well-off family, so it made sense. But no one dared to go outside, since all the fun was inside.

“Hey, Tae!” A hand rested on his shoulder. He turned and saw it was one of his teammates, Kim Minjae, who was the same year as him. “How you’ve been?” He offered a cup of an unknown alcoholic substance but Taehyung denied it.

“I’m good, it’s…this party is wild.” He had to shout his answer over the blaring sounds of the music.

“I know right? Maybe even hoping to get with someone tonight.” Minjae smirked as he gulped down his drink. Taehyung did not want to envision his teammate trying to stick his dick somewhere. He needed to find you, thinking that you’re probably very uncomfortable right now. 

“Good luck with that, I guess,” Taehyung commented, more to himself.

But it was when Minjae gasped and smacked Taehyung’s chest to grab his attention again. “Her, that one. I’m calling it.” His teammate pointed over and Taehyung followed the direction. “Pretty in the black dress.” Once he landed his eyes at Minjae’s “target,” Taehyung almost had smoke blowing out of his nose.

Through the transparent sliding door, you sat outside at the edge of the pool. At the end of your feet, there was a cup resting. You looked into the door, seeing all the “fun” happening. You were so easily turned off by what was happening in the house, you stepped outside to be alone. The crowd alarmed you, so you left it immediately and sat there in solitude.

“She’s even alone, this is perfect,” Minjae observed before chugging down the alcohol. “I’m going in.”

Before he could even do anything, Taehyung stopped him, pulling his teammate back. “No, you’re not. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Aww, did you call dibs already?”

“There’s no dibs. She’s my best friend.” Taehyung scoffed. “I’m not letting you go near her!” His voice got lower, and the protectiveness with you heightened so much more, seeing that Minjae tried to do something.

“Geez, alright, I won’t.” Minjae back offed, noting how angry Taehyung got. But despite all this, he was being a drunk idiot. “She is hot though. Did you tap th—”

“Leave before I punch you in the fucking throat!”

“Okay, bro. No need for violence.” His teammate raised his palms out as he surrendered. He eyed you out before shifting his eyes at Taehyung, then ultimately leaving before a fight broke out.

He didn’t bother to look back because Taehyung sped towards your direction, pushing people away with no remorse. He slid the door open, catching your eyes. Once you saw your best friend, your calmed face morphed into great relief with the pout you pushed out your mouth. “Blue.”

“Hyungie.” You got up from your seated position and ran into his arms to feel his embrace. “I don’t like this. I thought you said it was the team and their plus ones.”

“I thought so too.” Your best friend sighed. “But I guess Jungjae Hyung wanted to go all out for his final year.”

You sniffed his shirt, analyzing his smell. You held his chin to open his mouth before wafting his breath. “You drank.” You stared sternly.

“You too!” He didn’t want to be at fault for everything. “There’s a cup right there.”

“I was offered one but I didn’t drink it. I fled before they even noticed.”

Guilt consumed him as he couldn’t deny your allegations. “I was told to. It was for the team, but after that, I didn’t take another sip.”

“I’m not mad at you.” You giggled as you held his cheeks in your palms. “I’m just tryna give you a heads up because your parents may be up and will notice smells.”

Taehyung pondered that for a minute before a sly smirk appeared, “What if I sleep over? It is a weekend. Your grandparents are asleep, no?”

You threw your head back in laughter and shook your head, “Can’t believe you’re taking advantage of my elderly grandparents and their early bedtime.”

“Better than getting punished by my parents.” He shrugged oh so innocently before pecking your temple. “Let’s leave, Blue?”

“Mmm, yes please.” You tangled your fingers together and readied yourself. “Before we go home, let’s go to a convenience store. I want ice cream or a soda. Any liquid in the house is mixed with alcohol.”

He lifted your intertwined hands and poke his nose at your skin. “I’ll treat. A reward for putting up with this damn antic.”

“Can’t deny a hard bargain, Hyungie.” You agreed as you pointed over towards a gate. You spent much time outside, you were able to inspect the perimeter. “We can leave through there. No one will know we left.”

“I’m sure they won’t even know anything. They’re all drunk out of their minds.” He pulled you as you ran through the grass. You escaped the madhouse and made your own adventure with some strawberry juice and vanilla ice cream. 

-

Hours later, people were drunk out of their minds and dancing to Yoongi and Namjoon singing through the karaoke microphone. The birthday boy knocked out on the couch, cuddling up to Jimin while the older held a conversation with one of the guests. Hoseok was sitting in the corner, red as a tomato. Seokjin sat next to him reading webtoons. Seojoon, Hyungsik, and Wooshik sat on the floor and engaged in a nonsense conversation  Everyone was scattered around the house.

Taehyung was chilling on the other side of the couch. He didn’t bother where Clara was. The last thing she told him was that she was going to go to their bedroom upstairs since she felt drowsy, but that was over an hour ago. Other than her, he had to be a good host and make sure everyone was fine or not breaking any of the home decors.

So he stood up and walked around the house, inspecting that everything was alright. But as scoped out the areas, he realized something—you were nowhere to be seen. The last occurrence he remembered in the night was during the cutting of Jungkook’s birthday cake. The youngest tried to feed you some of his first slice. You denied it but he insisted and pulled the birthday card, so you had no reason but to.

In fact, Taehyung was never able to even spend time with you as everyone kept talking to you and Clara clung to his side at all times. Questions were asked like how long you’ve been in Seoul, how was Geochang, how you met Taehyung, where you go to school and what was your major, which Taehyung found out that it was Masters in Education through overhearing conversations. You always loved helping and educating others, especially him.

However, the main question of the night was what exactly happened between you and Taehyung. The members knew, but everyone else didn’t. Considering his friends saw you go from ignoring him to ridiculing him to having a genuine conversation, it spiked many wonders and thoughts. They were so curious since you were the person that knew Taehyung the longest, almost your entire life. You were practically a portal of history to who was Taehyung before being famous and the celebrity everyone knew and loved.

On contrary, you actually didn’t say much about it other than the “falling out,” even throwing a small fib that since Taehyung was away and have gotten busy, you grew apart as time went on. The members didn’t even argue but had confused looks. Taehyung didn’t know why you did that, especially all that he did to you. Maybe saving face, but who really knew?

Your answers were short and simple, not going in-depth with anything and definitely not with Jimin’s questions about dating and preferences. Taehyung was bothered by why his friend asked them but realized that Jimin was just curious about that realm. To be honest, he doesn’t think his member even has an interest. He just wanted to know things.

Now Taehyung’s mind dwelled on your whereabouts. You didn’t say you were leaving. Were you okay? It was barely midnight. He checked the bathrooms and they were empty, even the guest bedrooms, and still got nothing.

He went up to his members and asked, “Have you seen ___?” Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok looked up at him and crinkled their eyebrows in thought.

“The last time I saw her was before Jungkook was knocked out.” Jimin nudged the birthday boy who continued to be out cold.

“Maybe she went home?” Seokjin proposed with Hoseok drunkenly nodded quietly.

Taehyung shook his head, “She would have told us, especially since it’s pretty late. I wouldn’t even let her leave all by herself.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Tae.” Jimin tried reassuring his best friend. “You’ve been worried about her the whole night through. I’m sure she had fun.”

There was so much Taehyung wanted to say, but bit back and nodded. He glanced at Yoongi and Namjoon still going strong at karaoke. “I need some water.” He announced before leaving to go to the kitchen.

He filled a glass up and chugged it down. He had a mild headache on his shoulders, still feeling worried about you. All he wanted was to know you were okay. Though this was small, it was still a party and people did pummel you with everything they got. In a way, it got too much for you.

Wait, he realized. When you were overwhelmed, you had a habit of walking away and being by—

Barking interrupted his thought process. It was Yeontan and sounded like it was coming from the backyard. On another thought, he hasn’t seen his pet the entire night so he was now concerned about two things.

The idol headed towards the back entrance and discovered the sliding door was opened a big wide, enough for his dog to stroll through. As his eyes searched for Yeontan, a gust of relief hit his face.

Not only did he find his dog bouncing and panting in joy, but Yeontan also kept you company as you sat on the patio and ate a slice of cake while talking to his dog. Your bare feet up and crossed onto the chair across “No, I can’t give you cake. There might be chemicals in here that are poison for you.” You spoke accordingly as you forked a piece into your mouth. “Not for me though. I am human and you are a dog.”

Yeontan cocked his head to the side before crawling towards your legs and jumping, whining his little heart for you. You placed the plate down on the table to grab the furry creature. “Okay, I’ll let you sit on my lap again.” The second you settled him on you, he curled up into a ball and laid down before closing his eyes. He cuddled his head into your lower stomach. “You get so cuddly. Reminds me of your father when we were younger.” You patted his fur down continuously.

Taehyung’s heart skipped at the scene. It was wholesome and sweet that he enjoyed every minute of the interaction. Also, the fact that you still knew his habit of cuddling. You looked at peace, for the first time tonight, being alone with his dog. But he hoped that he can join in like old times.

He knocked on the glass door before opening it wide enough to enter. You turned to see him close the door behind you as you grinned courteously. “I found you.” The idol greeted as he sat on the chair next to you. “Everyone said you were gone, but I didn’t believe them.”

“You’re right.” You replied as you caressed Yeontan. “Been here with your doggy for a while. He never wanted to leave me.”

“I’m surprised that he likes you. It took a while for him to like the members.” Taehyung stared at his pet as he leaned into this chair. “Clara still struggles with him. He always growls or runs away from her.”

You frowned as you glared at the animal on you. You stage whispered, “You shouldn’t do that to your mom. She cares for you, you know?”

Taehyung chuckled at your behavior. “Actually, no. He’s my pet. She doesn’t really care for him, only feeds him when I’m not around. Clara didn’t agree with me getting a dog, but I still got him.”

“Who would say no to this face?” You purred as you brought a sleeping Yeontan into your arms and kissed his head.

The idol heavily admired the view as you nuzzled your face into Yeontan’s fur. The small Pomeranian lazily licked the tip of your nose before going back to his slumber. You giggled and kept him back on your lap.

“I forgot that you just go away from everyone, yet you’re still here.” Taehyung pointed out, grabbing your attention.

“I mean I didn’t want to be rude to just leave without notifying the host.” You shrugged as you reached for your plate of dessert.

“I guess the habit never left you.”

You blew out a soft laugh from your nose. “Yeah, the habit of you always finding me never left either.”

“You had me worried.” He spoke truthfully as he bit his lips. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of these kinds of things.”

“You shouldn’t have been.” You told, trying to assure him. ”Parties before were crowded, but this was pretty tame.”

“Yet you still came outside alone with my pet.”

“It got a little too much when a drunk Jungkook was glued onto me and Namjoon asked me to sing with him. After laying birthday boy down on Jimin, everyone else was distracted so I dipped without notice.” You explained as you took some whipped buttercream into your mouth. “Everyone was nice though, and they gave me their numbers and even asked to hang out, but…”

“But…” Taehyung egged on, wanting to hear more of your opinion.

“I told them we’ll see ‘cause I really am busy with work and school, and other things.” You sighed.

“Did you have fun at least, ___?”

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled, reminiscing about tonight as you scraped what was left of the cake before popping it in between your lips. “It’s been a while since I had done something like this, so thank you for helping me out. I know you were busy and all, but—”

“No, no, I wasn’t busy. I actually wanted to hang out with you, but everyone else was in the queue to spend some time with the famous ___.”

“Please, I’m sure I’m the farthest from being famous in that room.” You snorted in disbelief. “Jungkook even introduced me to some of his idol friends, I forgot their names…Eunwoo? Yugyeom? I don’t know. There were so many names to remember.”

Taehyung smiled happily at your rambling. “Baby steps, I guess. Uhh…” He scratched his temple, trying to think of how to word this properly. “I hope this helped with, ummm, trusting people a little.” You blinked, reaching his uneasy eyes. “I’m sorry if this offends you. I just—”

“I understand.” You said. “I remembered back in the hospital that you wanted to help me trust people again.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, this is only the first meet so…” You breathed out. “Baby steps, I guess.” You repeated his saying to which he scrunched his nose in amusement and looked down at his lap. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I’m on my way to trusting you.” 

His mouth cured down when he pulled his up to see your pupils and face forward. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’ve been worried about me the entire night, you looked for me, you’re being protective of me from your drooling members, you’re asking all these questions now…and I know that’s what you want from me.”

“I—”

“I don’t like saying this now, but that’s how you were, Taehyung.” You huffed, then finally met his eye contact. “It’s fascinating that you still do that.”

“Why is it fascinating?”

“Because it’s been ten years since I last knew you.” You murmured. “I’m sure there are many differences between Taehyung before and Taehyung now.”

The idol pursed his lips at your statement. It seemed that everyone but him verbalized that things were different between you and him. That you weren’t eight anymore, that he wasn’t able to care for you as much as before, that the restoring bond wasn’t strong like when you were younger. He hated it, he didn’t want to resort to that so-called justified belief. The memories were there, that was his evidence as well as yours, but you refused to look at them as how he did.

“You say that yet, look where we are.” Taehyung implied, gazing at the perplexed expression on you. “Party inside, yet you’re outside and alone just like before. And you said it yourself, I always find you.” You didn’t respond, only letting him speak further. “It feels like the same old things between me and you.”

You processed what he was saying. He seemed bothered, the defense evident on his features. You understood what he meant, and you did see the patterns within the weeks, but you weren’t going to tell him that. There was still distance and you couldn’t figure out why or how to solve it yet. You doubted he figured it out too because he was struggling right now.

Or maybe you did know, but you feared the results and vulnerability you had to do.

“You can’t say that we’re still the same because you know damn, well that’s not true. Again, you don’t know the kind of person I’ve become in the past ten years, Taehyung.” You informed him, eyeing him out. “It’s all blank and all you know are those memories when we were younger and naive. There are differences.” You stated calmly indifferent to your heart palpitating rapidly. “Like how I think of you now.”

Taehyung felt a stubby pit in him. He didn’t like that he was aware of that fact, but it stung when you confirmed the distance. You were right, he knew nothing within those ten years and who you were. He hated himself for it. The shortness in his breathing was present but tried his best to control it without going through another episode. “W—what do you mean by that?”

“Well…” You fiddled with your fingers, gathering your thoughts into words. “You were my best friend.”

“A-and-and now?”

“I don’t know.” You responded curtly. Your tone was rude, but you didn’t know how to say it without hurting him. And the hurt was there on him with his shoulders slouching lower. “Sorry, to say it like that. But it’s my truth.”

He nodded defeatedly. “I get it. I’m the reason why it’s so hard for you to trust others.” You didn’t want to comfort him and say it wasn’t true, because that would be lying. ”And trusting the perpetrator is almost impossible.”

Now you wanted to counter. “It’s not impossible, Taehyung.”

“How can you even say that when you don’t even know how you think of me?” His glossy irises shined through the dimming light of the midnight moon. Hints of tears were not there, but he was fighting them back into place.

“Because I’m letting you back in again.” You directly expressed, but the pain was still there. Your eyes frantically searched around as you debated your next move. You hesitantly raised your arm out to him. At times, your hand flinched back but kept moving forward. He followed your movements in curiosity before he realized what you were doing.

Your fingers jungled through his ebony locks, scratching his scalp in fondness as you peered at the idol. “Taehyung like how you have your reasons, I have mine too. It’s not impossible because I forgave you too. If you want me back in your life, I want you as well. It goes both ways.” You held forth as you pushed back his bangs, revealing his shining forehead. “It’s just gonna take a while with all that happened, okay? Even with your members and friends. It’s coming together.”

“I don’t want us to be awkward though. I know you feel it too.”

“We can’t help it. We have empty years behind us, and hopefully, we’ll be able to catch up. Just don’t think too much about our past now and don’t compare. I’m not the happy-go-lucky pushover you know.”

“You were never a pushove—”

“We’re back and focus on how are now.”

“How are you even so calm? I miss my best friend and wanna hug you so tightly, but I feel like you’re gonna kick my ass if I do.” He spoke childishly, making you giggle.

His insides tingled at your lovely sound.

“You’re not wrong again.” You brought back your hand. A low whine came out of his mouth when he couldn’t feel your touch anymore.

“Of course, I’m not. I know you inside and out.” He frowned.

“Not all…” You said under your breath and were in relief that he didn’t catch it. “I’m calm because I know it will happen. Not everything happens within a night, Taehyung.”

“I also don’t like how formal you call me. I miss Hyun—”

“Don’t push it.” Clipping your voice, you clenched your jaw. You shut him up right away. “Let’s take it slow, please.”

He agreed then you yawned largely before rubbing your eyes. “You tired? I have extra roo—”

“I’ll take a cab home.” You spoke as you stood from your seat with Yeontan in your arms still sleeping. Taehyung copied your movements before you transferred his dog to him. “I need to wake up early to study anyway.”

“Are you sure? Everyone’s too drunk to move any limbs and is probably sleeping over.”

“More reasons for me to leave.” You said matter of factly. “You can take care of them. I sobered up while outside.”

“It’s late. I don’t even know where you live. What if you live far?”

“Taehyung…”

“I’m being respectively concerned.” He reasoned as he slid the back door open, letting you both inside. “I’m not letting anyone leave the house. We’re all sleeping in the living room. I prepared matching pajamas for every one of us.”

You chortled at exaggerated words, but deep down, he spoke the truth. He was an idol…he could afford it. “Seems like no won’t be an answer for you?”

“You’re not wrong.” He smirked as you both headed down the empty hallway and up the stairs. Judging by the sounds and muffled voices, the party seemed to die down as everyone grew sleepy. In a split second, all of his members were in the living room dressed in red checkered pajamas. Even the sleeping Jungkook was changed.

You trailed behind the idol. Once you were brought into the first door to the left of the second floor, you found the same pajamas his members wore. You turned to him, in a surprised but expected expression. “You deadass bought matching pajamas. How’d you know their sizes?”

“I don’t, but it’s pretty easy for men through height.” He pointed out. “But you’re one of the few ladies inside the house so it’s pretty limited.”

You grabbed the folded clothes off the neat bed, checking it out. “I’m sure this is fine then. Thanks.”

“You’re lucky with this guest bedroom. You have your own bathroom in this. When I bought this house, I didn’t even know until Jimin pointed it out.” Taehyung leaned into the doorframe, crossing his arms. “This is Jimin’s unofficial room.”

You chuckled at his same-aged member. “So I guess I’ll change and head down to the living room?”

“No, you’re staying here.”

A formed morphed on your lips. “What, why?”

“There are so many men down there. I’m not putting you out there.”

You eyed Taehyung speechlessly. Sure, it was transparent that he was protective over you, but you didn’t think to this extent. At least not now, which made you question it densely.

“You have a nice spacious room to yourself, ___. Don’t give it up to sleep on a couch or floor with some…men.” He gagged at the emphasis of the word. Did he not realize that these were his friends he talked about?

“Fine, it’s your house anyway.” You gave in as you unfolded the sleepwear.

“There’s a new toothbrush for you to use as well as some makeup remover and cleanser. Make sure you lock the door. Jimin might notice something’s up.” Taehyung provided and you hummed in response.

“Thank you again. I’m actually very tired, it’s been a long day.” You were grateful for all his doings tonight. 

“Don’t overwork yourself.” He reminded strictly, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious, ___. I don’t want to repeat the last time.”

“I’ve been better, I swear.” You promised, sticking out your pinky toward his frame. Your gesture made him grin as he latched onto your small finger with his longer and larger one.

“Keep that promise.” He advised before parting. “If you need anything, just call me or knock on my door. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you.” You gave your gratitude once again. “Good night, Taehyung.”

“Sweet dreams, ___.” Sweet dreams, my Blue. He wanted to say so desperately.

Once he left, you changed your clothes. You headed towards the bathroom to wash up. As you brushed your teeth, you reflected on the night. There was a slight shift in this…thing with Taehyung, and it was a good sign you hoped. At the very least, he now was aware of how genuine you wanted to be his friend again. It was only a matter of how much and how long. It really was going to take a while, but it couldn’t be helped. At least on your end. 

You still didn’t trust him, but it was gradually getting there. You and your heart knew. After all—

He was your best friend.

Tagged: @manuosorioh @kaal-ee @dahliasbouqet @bertqut1 @fuckthinking @thvxstf

[hwalilac]

Ghost of You

⇴ pairing: vampire!kim hongjoong x f!reader

⇴ genre: angst, fantasy

⇴ words: 1k

⇴ warnings: death, minor mention of assault, mentions of death

⇴ a/n: feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

⇴ tags: @hyuckilstan @star1117-archives @whatudowhennooneseesyou @jwnghyuns @az-con @noonaishere

You are Hongjoong’s lifeline. He found you huddled by a dumpster around 2 am one night, after being assaulted by a couple of drunk men. From that day on, he took care of you, never once leaving your side. You quickly fell in love with each other, completely overwhelmed with affection. You were inseparable.

Here’s the problem… he’s a vampire. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. But he was shocked to know you weren’t scared of him. Most people were. It honestly made him fall even harder for you, knowing you didn’t see him as a blood sucking monster. There was nothing that could stand in the way of his love for you.

-

It was a cold day in December, tiny snowflakes flying on by your third story window. The two of you were dead asleep, seeing as Hongjoong was usually asleep during the day. It wasn’t easy adjusting your sleep schedule to his, but it works. Silence usually occurs at this hour, and yet Hongjoong was awoken to the sound of knocking at the door. You couldn’t hear it with your human ears, but he could.

Another loud knock rumbled against the door, making Hongjoong fly swiftly down the stairs to see the trouble. Not many people would come to a strange, dark castle in the middle of nowhere, especially in the freezing cold. A man, pale as could be (presumably another vampire), greeted Hongjoong. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he noticed it was his old friend Seonghwa.

Immediately worry filled Hongjoong’s chest, knowing Seonghwa wouldn’t be here if not for trouble around the corner. He warned Joong of dangerous beings looking for young human women. At first, Hongjoong thought it would be a good idea to keep you hidden still, in hopes that they wouldn’t find you. But when Seonghwa explained that they were close, already planning their next moves, Hongjoong knew it was time. He had to send you back into town, where it would be safe.

Hongjoong should’ve known this day was coming. He should’ve known he couldn’t keep a human woman here in his castle forever, at least without anyone finding out. But he couldn’t waste any time dwelling on the thought of missing you. He gathered a plant from the forest, with properties to make you sleep, and made a soup out of it.

He quietly entered your shared room, watching as you slightly awoke. “Hey sleepy head, I made you something to eat,” he whispered. “At this hour?”, you asked, confused why he would even be up at this hour. “You didn’t eat much earlier, you should at least eat this.” You couldn’t deny him, seeing how well made the soup looked. You didn’t want to disappoint him. After a couple of slurps, you quickly fell into a deep sleep, giving Hongjoong the chance to take you back to town.

It was hard for him; The hardest thing he’s ever done in his 326 years of life. But it was for the best. All he ever wanted was your safety and happiness. He dropped you off at your parents house, inside your old room, still clean and waiting for your arrival. A soft kiss was laid upon your forehead, before he swiftly took off into the night.

The days after, he spent coddled up in his bed, not moving an inch. Thankfully he could handle going without food for a while and not feel hungry. But his heart… that’s what really hurt. Every day he stopped himself from going back to town and taking you home with him. But he had to keep your safety in mind. Hopefully you could live a happy life without him. You had to; He wouldn’t put your life on the line for him.

He woke up after a week and a half, finally feeling the effects of hunger. A lust for blood, as well. He went downstairs for some packages of blood, but there was none left. He scrounged and searched for anything, even a drop of blood. But there was none. I must’ve been so caught up with my feelings that I didn’t even check for food, he concluded. The only choice was to go hunting.

The hunt was rough, not many animals out in the middle of the winter. The blood drive was closed until next week, so it’s not like he could steal from them. A quiet snap of a fallen branch makes Hongjoong’s attention turn to his right. He’s on high alert. And he should be.

Once he turns, he finds an entire clan of 6 standing in front of him. Jongho, Mingi, Wooyoung, San, Yeosang, and their leader Yunho. “What are you doing here, on my land?”, Hongjoong spits at the crowd. He was greeted with only smirks on their pale faces. “We just came to check on you,” San grins. “Yeah, see how you’re taking the news,” Wooyoung adds on. Their peculiar attitude worries Hongjoong, raising suspicion about their intentions here.

But when Hongjoong’s face is still covered with confusion, Yunho finally speaks up. “Ah, so you don’t know. Your little lover… Y/n, is it? She’s… well how do I say this?”, the tone in his voice making Hongjoong shake with anger. How dare he even speak her name. “Oh Yunho, just tell him!”, Jongho whines. “She was our last meal,” Yunho finally states.

Silence. Complete silence for a good 20 seconds. Then it finally hits him. It’s finally registered. She’s gone. They killed her. He thought he was keeping her safe when he dropped her back off into town, but he was only putting her into more danger. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought he was protecting her. But they still hurt her. No, no they didn’t hurt her. They fucking killed her.

A rage like none he’s ever felt before bubbled up inside him, begging to be released. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything. It’s like his entire body, mind, and soul shut down right then and there. He didn’t even register when they all disappeared. He was broken. There was nothing left of him. They ripped out half of his entire being. And there’s nothing he can do about it. She’s gone. She’s actually gone.

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

[matchawrites-n-doodles]

To Give Back

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Chapter 2: Safe Place

Masterlist

Authors note: Hello! Here it is. Thank you guys so much for liking my last chapter and even reblogging! :> Stay tune for the next one next week!

Summary: You set off to find the Mandalorian after finding his kid wandering by himself.

Warnings: violence, blood, some angst, it's all i can think about but let me know if i miss anything.

Words: 2,184 (Much longer, I like.)

———————————-

Chapter 1: A Spruce Blue Plush

2 hours earlier...

The town was quite a calming one in the mornings until the afternoon. The air quite chilly and colors of light blues and darks filled the place. Light fogs from afar would later reveal what's up ahead if you go further into town.

The sun is up and barely covered from the clouds so you would get a certain amount of heat which makes the place a little more pleasant and make the scenery more enjoyable.

In one of the small restaurants, Din Djarin and the child has settled sitting in one of the outside tables for a quick meal break and as usual warm soup for the child while none for the Mandalorian.

The child was delighted to have the plushy and clearly doesn't plan to part with it. Even when he slurps the soup, Din had to watch him to make sure he doesn't spill on himself since the little one decides to tuck his plush under his left arm as he slurp. Din later became a bit amused to see that he hasn't spill a single drop.

The child sighed, satisfied as he set the bowl on the table before looking at his new plushy. He looked up at Din with a smile, lifting his plush for him to see, gurgling with delight.

Din chuckled, "I know kid... That lady was nice enough to let you have it. It was the only color left." He wipes away what's left on the child's cheek from his soup.

"... So, you better take good care of it."

It was clear to him that you wanted the plushy for yourself but you decided to give it to the child instead. There was this sort of look in your eyes when you looked at the child. The smile on your face says another thing but in your eyes, there's longing. When you turn to leave, he was about to say something but decided not to.

What also makes you interesting is that you can speak mando'a which he has never heard any non Mandalorian speak before. Also, calling him 'beautiful' out of all things? He found you quite odd and there was even no sign of fear you've given just as others would have. He wasn't sure why he didn't confronted you about it but he had to just let it go.

Every once in a while, he would notice you walk by from a distance, noticing a pattern of you deciding whether or not you want to purchase anything from one of the stalls. Coming back to them to make the final decision before setting off again.

And every once in a while, the child would point at you with an 'eh' and looking up at Din. You still being unaware that they were there.

Din happened to find the whole situation funny with the way the child would always seem to say 'oh look she's back again!' with his ears perking up and his eyes would follow you, but Din kept it to himself. 

After quite some time, Din decided to stay a little bit more before his shoulders would relaxed back and later, he stood up from his seat.

"Okay, kid. Let's keep going." The little one would blow small raspberries in response, feeling a bit sad to go. Not really wanting to leave without seeing you one more time, but lately you haven't been around for a while, indicating that you must of went home.

Which Din would noticed the sun was getting close to set and decided that they should head back to his ship soon.

Only to tumble into trouble after some time in town.

2 hours later...

You hurried over to your ship, quickly finding a blanket and turning the heater on for the little one to stay warm and out of his wet and bloodied robes. You quickly check for any injuries and sighed in relief seeing that he came to you unharmed.  You set him on your cot, wrapping his small body and you see that he's starting to get sleepy, his finger grasping your finger.

You smiled, "Okay little one. Stay here. I'll go find your dad. He might be in trouble. Do not move, alright?" You picked up the plushy and set it inside the blanket with him. Leaving the robe in your refresher to clean up later.

The child immediately hugged the plushy, looking up at you sleepily, slowly releasing his hold on you. You slip you finger from his hand and rubbed his cheek with your thumb, giving him a quick peck on his forehead before shutting your sleeping chamber where he will stay hidden and safe.

You huffed, grabbing your staff and blaster. Your knife already on your hip. You pulled you cloak over your head since the rain has started to get heavy, just as you suspected. You rolled your shoulder back to ease the nerves before taking off and closing your ship, knowing that the little one is safe.

...

The sound of pouring rain is almost unbearable because you could barely see your surroundings. The atmosphere immediately changed to the strong smell of rain and the town went from a light blue to a grey blue color. Lanterns are still lit up to help you find your way around even though it's already dark out. You listened closely for any sounds that may lead you to the Mandalorian.

You hoped that he's okay but judging by how big the splotch of blood on the kid's robe. Maybe not. The nervous feeling bubbling in your stomach.

And you barely know these two so why are you helping them? Perhaps the Mandalorian is somewhat a father figure or guardian towards the little one? You're pretty sure they're not related but you do know that they have a bond. A strong one at that.

Has the little already capture your heart? Was it that you couldn't bear to see the sad look on a child's face when they find out their only parent figure is gone?

Or... Perhaps you wanted to redeem yourself after what had happened a year ago?

You shook your head, feeling the sting in your eyes. Pouring rain drops on your cheeks to disguise the stray tears. Either way, you can't let that child be left alone. No way.

Your mind was later interrupted when you hear it.

The sounds of blasters going off from your left so you scuttled and stopped at the corner part of the building and took a peek around.

And there he is. The tall metal man himself in the middle of the street as he fights off one of the last thug that went after him. You could tell he's getting tired and limping on his left leg but he's not giving up.

When the last thug fell, the Mandalorian looked around frantically and you knew immediately who he's looking for. You knew you have to reunite them.

"Mandalorian!" You yell out, slowly revealing yourself. Said man stood stiff, alerted. Your hands up to show him no harm.

You continued, "I don't know if you remember me but I was the girl from this morning? Anyways, I know where the child is, but you have to come with me!"

"Where is he?!" His hand over his blaster. His voice sounded heavy and angry. His voice being modulated adds to it. It sort of sends you off guard, almost afraid and feeling a different feeling on your chest. You gulped.

"He's safe! I'm promise!" You gently said, revealing your face despite the heavy rain, hoping he recognize you. "Your kid came to me for help and I got him to safety. I know you don't believe me right now." You didn't realize you were just a few feet away in front of him. Your hands still up.

You could feel his gaze at your face. You noticed his shoulders a little relaxed but slightly moving up and down as he breathes heavily. Something was wrong. Your face softens from being terrified to concerned. You reached out your fingers slowly at him. "You're hurt-" 

Then suddenly you heard the sounds of feet slapping onto the wet ground behind the Mandalorian. Your eyes widen and you peep out a 'look out.'

Before he could react, your legs moved to his left and your fingers already reached out to his arm, gently but firmly pushing him aside to safety but he had placed his right hand on your wrist, gripping it. You had already whipped out your staff with your other hand to swing at the thug who was about to attack him.

The thug was sent back into the ground on his back. He groans, lifting his head, only for you to rip your hand from the Mandalorian's grip and grab your knife to fling, and land in between the thug's eyes. Now dead, you walked over, the sound of your boots hitting the wet ground, towards the thug to retrieve your knife back. 

You turned back to find the Mandalorian stare at you with his hand up before setting it over to his side.  You hurried over to him, not touching but hovering your hands on his shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries. "You okay?" Your eyes trail down to his leg and you gasped. "Come on, I need to bring you to my ship." 

"Is that..." He groans, limping a bit. You nodded.

"That's where he is. May I... May I touch you?" You asked, "I want you to lean on me since walking will make things worse for you. I'll also have to tend to your leg first, so let's get to shelter real quick."

You waited for his answer but before he was going to say anything, you noticed the change of his body as he gets more tired. He was about to fall over, making you rushed over to him. Wrapping your arm around his waist causing him to grunt in pain.

"Sorry." You hissed, loosening your grip. The temperature for sure has dropped due to the harsh weather but the heat radiating from his body almost made you want to lean into him more but you stopped yourself anyway.

"It's... It's fine. Just a bit bruised on my left side." 

"Okay." You took it as a sign that he's alright with you holding him so you looped his arm over your shoulders and neck, your right arm holding his waist firmly but gently as not to hurt him more.

"You can lean on me. I'll get us out of the rain first for your leg." You led him to the side of the building that has an opened area with a roof over to keep you from the rain. You set him down gently to the floor, letting him lean on the wall. Focusing on his wound now which is located on the outer side of his left leg. You check to see how deep the cut is before doing what you needed to do and got to work as quickly as you can.

Quickly cleaning the wound with the clean cloth you got from your bag and then grabbed bacta spray from your bag before spraying it over the cut.

"There. That should help. Stuff works like magic." You said, trying to lighten things up as you put your spray back in your bad. 

"You ready to keep moving? My ship's not too far from here." You finally look up, only to freeze when you realized his gaze was towards you. His chest heavily heaving as he stare at you and the sound of his voice sounded strained, making your brows furrowed with worry. 

"Are you okay? Are you sick? I'" You slowly reached over his neck, waiting for him to react which he did by grabbing your wrist. You look back at him, not even phased by his reaction. You made a small smile to reassure him. "It's okay. I'm not going to remove your helmet. I know how important that is for you. I just want to make sure you're alright."

He loosened his grip but kept his hand on your wrist. You push a bit, placing the back of your hand to feel the heat radiate through the fabric that covers his neck and you sighed, worried.

"You're a lot warmer than usual... I think you're getting a fever."

"M'fine..." You could definitely hear that he's not fine. 

You rolled your eyes, "Yea, sure. Come on then. Your kid's waiting." That seemed to give him a bit of energy, which made you smile.

When he released you, you put your hood over your head before helping him up by placing his arm around your neck again and lifted him. You haven't heard any more thugs coming by which was a relief so you started setting off again. 

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, he finally said, "Thank you..."

You felt a smile creeping up, "Of course."

"But why would you help me...?" His voice sounded a bit shaky under that metal helmet of his. "We barely know each other." 

You thought of an answer, and came up with, "That may seem so... But I didn't want the baby to lose someone like you."

____________________________________________

Chapter 3: Comfort under Rain

And that's the end of chapter 2. :> Hope ya like it! Reblogs, likes, even comments are always appreciated.

[peterparkersnose]

Bitter Kisses

Din Djarin x reader

Mandalorian x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, jealousy, swearing

a/n who watched the bubble? dieter bravo was a slut i loved it

summary Din gets jealous when he sees Y/N with another man

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 39 seconds

The exhausting trip from the town back to the Razor Crest seemed to last an eternity. Din used the only speeder on the ship, so you would walk to town and let him use it for hunting (against his many, insisting requests that you take it). Your legs ached as the child clung to them, resting in a pouch on your hip. The sound of the crunchy plains and crickets filled your ears. It was near dark. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw the speeder resting outside the crest. 

Din was home.

You find the heart of the ship empty, figuring Din was in the pit. Grogu escaped your pouch and made his way to his hammock, waiting for you to prepare him a snack. The supplies and food you bought clanked against the walls. You let the heavy bags down, making an even louder noise. Turning your back to chop some frog legs, you didn’t even hear the cockpit door open. You were startled when you turned around to find the Mandalorian staring directly at you. 

“Well, hello to you too.” you hum, passing by his very oddly off putting demeanor. You could never tell with that wall of beskar hiding his emotions. Grogu happily accepted his treat, but gave his father a weird look. Din was leaning up against the Razor Crest wall, arms crossed and leg pointed. 

Matching Grogu’s weird stare, you scooted past him back to the kitchen. “I got more parts, like you asked. Got a good deal on them too,” you announced, sorting through the knick knacks you had bought that day. Bewildered by the silence from Din, you tried to ignore his bad demeanor and start making dinner. “I’m making that soup you like- you know… the one with the potatoes?” you asked. Din let out a muffled sigh through his mask. Grogu sighed in his hammock, shuffling around. Din patted his head, and opened the hatch. 

Confused, you scoffed and followed him out into the field. The sun was setting, showing a bright purple and pink sunset. “Where are you going?” you yelled, chasing after him. His steps were a lot wider than yours, and he had a headstart. “Din!” you yelled. This stopped him dead in his tracts. “What is the matter with you?” you asked, catching up to him and bracing onto his arm from the momentum of you running. He shrugged you off. 

“I can’t see your face under that mask. How am I supposed to know what’s wrong?” you asked, staring into the slot in the mask where his eyes would be. 

“I saw you with that man today,” Din whispered, barley eligible. “Din, your gonna have to speak up-”

“I saw you with that man today!” he yelled, swerving around your body. You watched his cape whip past you and his heavy boots slurp in the mud. “What?” you yelled back, following him back to the ship. “What are you talking about? Why did we have to go outside?” you sarcastically asked, flicking your wrists in confusion. Din scooped up Grogu trying to escape, and started to close the hatch. You had to jump on to avoid being locked out. “What the fuck Din!” you yelled, crawling up from the hatch. You watched him strut towards the pit door, but you ran ahead and blocked it. “What man?” you yelled, making the child coo. Din set him down. You heard him waddle away, waiting for Grogu to leave the room. 

“Din, please talk to me.” you begged. “Move.” he insisted. “Din!” you yelled, tears forming in your eyes. He looked away from you. “I really have no idea what your talking about,” you sighed. 

“The man I told you to stay away from? I saw you with him in the square today.” Din grunted. 

You moved past him, into the open ship. You were shocked. “Y-you followed me?” 

Din looked down. “I was following a lead-” “Din, you followed me?” you cut him off. “I told you to stay away from him!” he yelled. 

Your mind wandered to the earlier events of today. The man who got you a deal on all your parts today. “It was for the crest!” you yelled. “I told you he was a swindler! I bet he sold you pieces of junk.” Din scoffed. “Din! Where is this coming from?” you asked, grabbing his shoulder. He just stared at you.

“Your not… jealous. Are you?” you smirked. Din turned around and made his way to the cockpit. You followed him. “Is Din Djarin jealous?” you taunted. “I am NOT jealous,” he yelled back, sitting back in his pilot’s chair. “Then why do you have such an issue with me socializing with a man?” you said, cocking your head. Din sat silent. “If you don’t want to admit it, be my guest.” you sighed, leaving him to simmer in the cockpit. 

Under his mask, Din was fuming. It was wrong to be angry about this. He wasn’t even with you. But the cold nights where the crest lost power, where he cuddled you. When you became Grogu’s mother. Remembering his favorite soups and making them for him. Always being excited for him when he brought in a new bounty, even if it was the same process of freezing them every time. A simple ship worker made the Djarin clan whole. The thought of you leaving, being with another man furiated Din. 

***

The night simmered the tension in the ship. Grogu sensed it, and was whiney all night. Between the turns you and Din bringing Grogu to their cot, walking him around the ship, and trying to feed him nothing worked. After another meal of frog legs, he finally settled down. Exhausted, you sat with the sleeping baby at the table. One arm held him, one arm sat against the table cradling your head. 

Din noticed the weird silence, and went to see what was up. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you with his son. He removed his helmet, and quietly placed it on the table next to you. The disruption in the table’s silence awoke you, waking up to find Din maskless. This wasn’t uncommon anymore in the ship anymore, especially when the light was darker and it was night time. You saw him and sighed, placing your head back on the table. 

He sat next to you. “I am sorry.” he spit out. You didn’t move. His hand extended to your back, rubbing small circles on your shoulder. You let out a long sigh. “I was wrong of being…” he struggled to say. “Jealous.” he finally spit out. You sit up and yawned, making sure Grogu was tight to your lap. Your head met his shoulder, exhausted. “It’s okay.” you murmured. “Cyar'ika,” he said endearingly, taking your face in his palm. “It is wrong to behave this way. I-I just had a hard time. Seeing you with…” 

You leant into his hand and let out a small smile. You met his hand with yours and kissed his thumb. “Don't worry Din. I’m not going anywhere.” you smiled. His forehead met yours and you both smiled. His nose bumped yours, and you felt the force pull you two together. Or maybe it was Grogu playing cupid, who knows. 

His lips were so soft. Something you would have never expected. He had an odd taste of salt. You didn’t know, but it was from his previous tears. His tongue felt soft against yours, trying not to be so aggressive. 

That night turned cold like so many other familiar nights. That night, you all slept together as a family. The official clan of three, Clan of Djarin. 

-

tag list: @peeta-is-useless @kirsteng42 @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0

[terry-perry]

Reckless pt. 2

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Warnings: Angst, unplanned pregnancy, spoiler for ep. 5 of Moon Knight

A/N: I came up with something after watching that heartbreaking episode. So this might be a little sad since it delves into who Marc is, as a person. Pt. 3 in the works, as we speak. Enjoy!

Pt. 1

You shouldn't have left the way you did. It's just that damn plus sign was staring right at you. You had to get away from it. After you got to work, you managed to distract yourself and clear your head a bit to think about the situation.

But now you were freaking out for a whole new reason. In your state of panic, you didn't exactly do a good job hiding the test. Steven could've easily found it once he got up to use the bathroom.

You stood outside his apartment, not knowing what to expect. You put your hand over the doorknob, but not before placing your other hand over your stomach. You sighed.

Here goes nothing.

"Steven?" You came in, doing your best to dial back your worry.

"In the kitchen, love,"

You sighed with relief. Your anxious thoughts had you worrying that he might've ran off in a similar way you had.

He also didn't sound angry. In fact, once you entered the kitchen and found him slurping a bowl of soup, he welcomed you with a big smile. That was a definite good sign, right?

"Hey sweetheart," you greeted him, leaning down to peck his lips. Still at that level, you were able to see what he was eating. "Ooh, loaded potato!"

"Got it from that deli you like. Made sure yours had extra cheese in it."

"Best boyfriend ever," you said, giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

"Sit down," he got up to pull out a chair for you. "I'll fix you a bowl."

You were happy for a bit longer as you watched him take a container out from the fridge. That was until you had to get back out of your bubble when you remembered why you needed to talk to him.

"Um, Steven--"

"I know," he interrupted you. When he turned around to look at you, that soft smile was still on his precious face.

"You know?"

"About the baby,"

There! It was finally out in the open. You had to give another relieved sigh. But now what was on his mind about all this? He didn't seem angry. Quite the opposite, really. He even got you your favorite food.

"Sorry I didn't tell you when I found out," you said. "I needed some time to myself to think about things."

"Totally get that," he responded, sitting back at the table with your soup. "And what are you thinking now?"

"I think...I think -- if we both want to -- that we can do it."

You really believed you could. You both were stable enough to take care of a baby. You weren't living together, but you could figure out the living arrangements.

"I know we haven't talked about kids, but I think this is going to be okay. It's scary, but exciting. Don't you think?"

He had stayed quiet, which put you back on edge. His smile was gone as he appeared to do some thinking of his own. You could practically see the wheels in his head turning. Thankfully his smile returned as he reached out to take your hand and give it a loving squeeze.

"I want to do this with you," he said.

There was more, you knew there was. "But...?"

He let out a deep breath. "There's something I haven't told you. I should've, so I'm going to." Another exhale. "Just please know that I love you more than anything, and I love that you're carrying our baby."

You were confused and, quite frankly, a little scared. There was something he was keeping from you? He wasn't married, was he? An Avenger, maybe? That could be possible since the original ones weren't really around anymore. Deciding it was best to just listen, you nodded and kept a tight grip on his hand to prepare for whatever was about to unfold.

----

Steven told you his whole story. Well, his and this Marc Spector's story. Apparently, Steven was only around because he was how Marc coped with the troubling childhood he had. He told you about their brother Randall, how their mother blamed Marc for his death and abused him as a result. The jobs Marc took after being discharged from the military.

He told you everything.

He was in tears by the time he was done. So were you. You wanted to comfort this poor man and give him the world after everything he'd been through. He told you everything in great detail, you didn't think he was lying.

In fact, you had heard about this condition. Dissociative Identity Disorder. You only knew the basic facts about it, and that it can be a result from dealing with traumatic events. The story you were told was certainly traumatic, if not, heartbreaking.

But, of course, you had questions.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I was going to eventually," Steven said. "I just wasn't sure how to. You see, Marc and I had a deal. He promised me that I could be at the front. That I could have more of a life for myself. He's kept his word, until recently."

Putting two and two together, you figured out the timing.

"How does he feel about the baby?"

"He's mixed about the whole thing," Steven confessed. He was hesitating, though. There was something else.

"How mixed exactly?" You pressed on.

He kept quiet. There was an inner conflict going on that had to do with telling you the whole truth. An inner conflict he might've been having with Marc.

"Marc doesn't want this baby, does he?" You guessed.

Steven straightened up, wanting to look at you completely so you knew he was being sincere. "Marc doesn't know how to feel about this. You have to know he's a very complicated guy. He doesn't think he deserves to be happy. And because of the stuff we went through, he can't handle things that he can't control. It's why his initial reaction was to up and leave after seeing the test."

"Wait, what?" You stood up from your seat with fresh tears forming. You'd been worried that this situation would lead to a break up.

Was this really happening?

Noticing your sudden distress, Steven got up right away to hold you. "Darling, no, it's okay. It's okay. I told him we aren't leaving, all right?" He took your face in his hands and thumbed away a few of the tears that spilled out. "It's why I had to tell you before Marc did anything like that." His hand went down to your stomach, looking at it with so much love. "I want this. I want you. And -- even if he won't admit it out loud --I know Marc wants this too."

Out loud. That gave you an idea.

"Let me talk to Marc,"

You startled Steven, somewhat, with your suggestion. His worry lingering when asking you if you were sure about doing such a thing.

"If he's the one that needs convincing, then let me try talking to him," you said.

Steven stared at you for a little longer. He now just wanted to have a good look at you, it seemed. Like he wasn't sure when was the next time he'd see you.

"Hey," you whispered in a reassuring tone. "We'll be here when you get back. I promise."

He nodded before pressing a firm kiss on your lips. He took a couple seconds to savor it until he released you with a soft gasp. He stepped back from you, and with one more teary smile, he closed his eyes and shifted in place. With a roll of his shoulders, he opened his eyes up again.

To be continued...

[aroui]

hi! may i request a scenario where f! immortal! reader or ei gives her girlfriend a matching bracelet with an infinity symbol? whether it's ei or reader giving is up to you! and maybe them getting teased for wearing matching jewelry? have a nice day!

ei from genshin impact & her immortal girlfriend matching accessories

author note: hello, thank you so much for requesting! i apologize that this took too long…

warnings: reader is called traveller, light angst

during a stroll around inazuma, ei catches glimpse of a bracelet with an infinity symbol. she approaches it with interest and asks the seller how much it was.

“oh,” ei says, reaching for the bracelet and trying it on, “how much is this?” she then looks into the seller’s eyes but he doesn’t flinch at her seemingly scrutinizing gaze, surprisingly.

“ah! you’re the raiden shogun!” he, the one who sells jewelry, exclaims. happy that the ruler of inazuma had graced him with her presence and he takes it as a sign of his business growing bigger in the near future.

“that’s free! since you’re the one buying it. um, pardon me but are you planning to use it to accessorize yourself or giving it to someone?” ei perks up at this, now even more interested in the shiny piece.

“well, if you’re also planning to give it to someone, it comes with this other matching bracelet.” he immediately rummages through the display of shiny accessories to look for the other match of the bracelet.

“aha!” he happily shouts as he finally finds it and carefully presented it to the archon with both of his hands, as if an offering for good fortune at a shrine.

at the sight of it, ei smiled, albeit small. she tells him, “then, i’ll get both.”

the seller bags it and thanks her, “thank you so, so much! come again!”

ei thinks the people of inazuma aren’t as bad as they seem to be. after minutes have passed, ei finds you at a restaurant you frequent to, and she calls for you.

“traveller, you’re here.”

your eyes widened and you quickly grab a napkin to wipe the noodle soup that had landed on your face.

you sprint towards her and held her hand, “ei, ei! i’m so glad you’re here! quick, sit down and taste this.” you get back at your table then grab a forkful of noodles, you blew on it and almost shoved it in ei’s face.

everyone interprets your relationship with the electro archon as something offensive, you’re a mere immortal who had nothing special about herself, save for your own vision, which was gifted to you by ei herself.

but you were grateful, and if you’d say so yourself, ei was too. the both of you are truly happy in each other’s presence. you didn’t care what other people would think of you, you only truly cared about ei.

when everyone else had left you behind, ei would still be waiting for you, and she’d wait for you for eternity if she had to, and you’ve never been gladder to have someone by your side.

you haven’t noticed that ei had already taken the fork out of your hand, eating the bowl of noodles by herself, and you giggled.

“what?” ei stops slurping her (correction: your) food, “nothing, you’re just so cute.” you reply and her cheeks warmed at the sudden compliment.

a light bulb seemed to light up on ei’s head when she suddenly sat straight up, “ah, i almost forgot i had this.” she reaches into the bag she’s still holding, it’s a surprise she even forgot about it when she was holding onto it.

“oh?” you peek a little inside it but ei looked a bit bashful before pulling out the jewelry inside it.

“woah! is this for me?” your eyes gleamed and ei noticed.

“yes, i wanted us to have matching accessories, since i noticed a lot of couples do it as well.” the two of you barely did mortal customs or tradition, so when moments like these was presented in front of the two of you, it was always a sweet memory to look back to.

“it’s so cute, an infinity symbol?! this is so us, because, you know, we’re immortal.” it felt nice to have a possession that represented your life, even if it was a small infinity symbol, it was enough.

“it fits us so well, don’t you think?” ei asks as she laces her fingers between yours, the two of your bracelets glimmering in the light inside the restaurant.

“we should show yae! she knows a lot about this, maybe she could give us an insight on what accessories we should buy more in the future?” you question, hoping it didn’t sound too weird.

but ei nods, and the two of you quickly head out of the restaurant, thanking the people that had served the two of you.

thanks to the teleport waypoint near the narukami grand shrine, getting to where yae’s supposed to be was easy. you ask the other shrine maidens where yae is, and a flash of purple suddenly showed up and yae appeared in mid air.

“if the raiden shogun and her girlfriend needs me, i shall be there.” she grins and you could feel a shiver run down your spine.

yae nods to the shrine maidens and they all give the three of you the privacy to talk to each other.

“yae, me and traveller wonders what jewelry would look nice on us.”

“such a sudden and random question asked to me. at least the two of you aren’t having relationship problems, unlike so many of other people.” the kitsune laughs, and it sounded a little bit too wickedly, or maybe that was really just how she sounded like?

“i’d say it should match the color of the clothes you both wear, so it’d be complementary…” yae glances at the intertwined hands of yours and ei’s.

“you have matching bracelets? you’re so sweet that it makes my tooth ache.” the pink-haired electro vision holder teases, you blush.

you take a look at your girlfriend to see how she’s reacting to this and it totally made you dumbfounded.

her whole face was red, and her hand felt almost too hot to the touch.

[ultrastarbee]

Before this request I just wanna say sorry bc yes Mitsuya Draken and Chifuyu owns my heart and all I can see is this holy trinity of boyfriend/husband material but here's the ask:

Do you remember that one ep where Takemichi thinks Emma is going out with Mikey and is afraid of ww3 breaking loose if Draken finds out? Yeah, so what if this three sweet angels fell for reader?

(All I can picture is Take on the background like : *doing the o7* I tried Hina-chan *crying like a baby*)

This one has so much potential! Hope I can do good! It's so funny and fuck I really thought you would come with a creepy angst request. I'm so happy you didn't tore apart my hear! And you know, I see the holy trinity as well!

Title: Boyfriend material Request: yees Couple: Draken x reader x Mitsuya x Chifuyu Category: funny and fluffy Content Warning: Word Count: 558 Summary: Draken, Mitsuya and Chifuyu want to be your date, but fuck, how can you choose? A/N: this is funny as hell

MASTERLIST ....... RULES ....... SERIES LIST

Everything started a day before Valentine's Days when you were playing around with Toman's guys. You knew them for years and recently there's a new guy with a dumb face. You decided you wanted to know more about him, afterall he is friends with your friends, so Draken introduced you two.

"And then you know how Mitsuya has the same tatoo as Draken? Well, they..." you stop talking to answer your phone "sorry, guys, have to go. Chifuyu is inviting me to eat with him and Baji".

"Takemitchy" Draken calls after waving goodbye to you and the boy shivers "keep your eyes out of y/n".

"Are your eyes on y/n?" Hinata hits Takimichi's arm softly.

"No way! I saw her on a date with Mitsuya yesterday, I know y/n is taken!" Takemichi tries to escape, but only messes shit up.

"Hello? That's the only reason? What about me?" Now Hinata's hand is heavier when she hits his arm.

"Mitsuya, hm?" Drakens face grows serious.

"Look what you did! Didn't you know Draken likes y/n?" Hinata scolds her boyfriend and he starts to apologise.

Meanwhile you were eating with Chifuyu and Baji talking about how bad school was.

"Why are you kicking me? Want me to beat your ass?" Baji growls at Chifuyu looking under the table. Baji seems to realize something and jumps to stand up "Geez, look at the time. I have to go water my dog. I mean, walk my plants".

Baji fills up his cheeks with the rest of his food and runs away from the restaurant leaving you and Chifuyu alone.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow?" he asks you, but his eyes are on his food with a pinkish face.

"Not really. Mitsuya wants to hang out afternoon, though" you slurp your soup. Chifuyu looks at you surprised.

"Go out with me, then" he speaks fast. You wouldn't even dream about them liking you that way, you were friends for so long now.

"Sure, but don't you have a date tomorrow? It's V-day, you know".

"I want you to go on a date with me"

"I can go, but why do you need me to be the third wheel?"

Fuck, you are too blunt. Chifuyu then holds both your hands and looks at your eyes.

"Y/n, please go on a date with me on Valentine's Day" his serious face made you understand what was going on.

"WAIT" both Draken and Mitsuya make you two stop.

Chifuyu lets go of your hands as the two approach. Both of them looking tired and trying to get to you first.

"I will ask Y/n first, get out of my way" Draken pushes Mitsuya.

"I already did and Y/n said yes" Mitsuya stands his ground.

"Wait you two, Y/n was about to give me an answer" Chifuyu enters the arguing.

You were just drinking you soda while watching that. Outside Baji and Mikey were also watching everything and laughing their asses off.

"So, Y/n, what's gonne be?" the three of them are looking at you waiting for an answer.

You stand up and make them sit at the table.

"Fuck" is what you say when leaving the restaurant. How could you choose between the three of them?

Leaving it for future Y/n to deal with, of course.

[thera-daydreams]

KABILANG BUHAY

× A TRESE ONESHOT ×

[Crispin x Ghost!Reader]

📝 Summary: Your demigod husband remembers you—everything about you—and how much he absolutely loved you. He remembers everything, including the memory that hurt the most.

📌 Warning: Contains fluff, angst, character death, and mentions of violence (because an angry Crispin being the son of a wargod is bound to shed some blood somewhere). Masakit po talaga 'tong songfic na 'to, trust me. If you don't want to get hurt, scroll awaaaay. Pero if you want maximum 1000% ultra heavy pain, then listen to the song below on repeat while reading, too.

Song: Kabilang Buhay by Bandang Lapis

(word count: 5,642)

"Masasayang mga araw na kasama kita."

Warm. Crispin always remembered you to be so warm—every single part of you. The heat of your skin against his whenever he held you, that whimsical sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw the little joys in life, that sprightly curve of your lips whenever you two teased each other, and the radiance he saw from you whenever you were around the people you loved.

In his eyes, there was always a halo around your head or a beam of light following you around. Perhaps he was biased; perhaps he saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it didn't matter to him. To the demigod, you were everything he ever wanted.

You were the one.

You were also one of the sweetest people he'd ever met. Every morning without a fail, there would always be a hot cup of kape and a plate of pandesal on the table—not only for him, but for everyone else in your little family, too. Alexandra, Hank, and of course, his younger brother Basilio. Even before you became his girlfriend, you'd treated them as your own loved ones.

That was the day he knew you were truly the one for him. The one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to build a home with. The woman he wanted to marry and have children with, if you were okay with it (when that conversation came, you said you would be happy and honored to be his wife).

Crispin said it was the other way around. It was he who was fortunate and honored to be your husband. You'd laughed in response, kissing his cheek. There were no fancy rings or a formal, elaborate proposal involved, but that day—he remembered clearly that you had that conversation on a chilly December 1st, 9:24PM, right before you two went to bed—was an unspoken promise.

You two would be inseparable and together 'til death do you part.

Going back to that coffee and bread, he always wondered how you managed to keep it so fresh (you said it was a secret, but later on you spilled the beans to him after him pestering you). Even if he woke up at noon because of missions with his bossing and his brother, palaging mainit ang kape at pandesal. You must have had some sort of superpower you weren't telling him (you rolled your eyes, telling him that superpower came in the form of a microwave).

"Paglalambing at kulit mo na hindi nakakasawa."

He was by no means clingy or touch-starved, but whenever he was around you, he had the need to at least hold you in any way. Sometimes, it was the usual PDA (Basilio and Maliksi teased him about it, but he didn't care if it meant having some sort of contact with you; Alexandra just let it be because she knew how much you two loved each other). In public, you guys toned it down—settling with holding hands or you just linking your arm through his. If he was driving the car, his hand would either be innocently resting on your thigh or your hand which was on your lap. If you were the one driving the car, then it would be your hand on his thigh or his hand. He loved to draw circles on your skin whenever he was daydreaming or starting to doze off, too.

You as a couple often expressed your love for each other in different ways, and not just by saying it out loud. One thing Crispin adored the most about your relationship was the way you voicelessly said "I love you". If it wasn't clear enough that acts of service was one of your love languages, then he could understand that you loved him back through three taps.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

At first, he had no clue what it meant. You just kept doing it whenever you were near him, on whatever body part you could touch. If he was driving? Tap, tap, tap on his thigh. If he was the one cooking? You'd hug him from behind and then one of your fingers would go tap, tap, tap on his waist. If you were eating together? You'd take his palm then just... tap, tap, tap while chewing on whatever food it was you had in your mouth.

He recalled that afternoon you guys were eating at a simple Japanese place. While you slurped up some of the wheat noodles and the savory soup, you were excitedly doing a little happy dance as you ate—the one you did whenever you ate something you found yummy. Frankly, Crispin found it endearing. He, too, was guzzling down some of the ramen when you reached out for his hand then laid it on the table palm up.

With a mischievous smile and your puffed up cheeks looking like a chipmunk from the noodles you'd gobbled up, you gently tapped his palm with your index finger, that same glint in your eye whenever you did that gesture.

"... Anong ginagawa mo, mahal?" Crispin chuckled, a brow raised. He found it cute but he had no idea what it was supposed to stand for.

"Wala lang," you mysteriously answered in a muffled voice, swallowing.

"You know, you shouldn't talk when your mouth is full," he pointed out, amused. You snorted, gulping.

"Not my fault you asked a question, Crispin," you retorted, shoving in another bite of noodley goodness with your chopsticks. You did a mini-wiggle when the umami flavor exploded on your tongue (the ramen was bussin', bestie). Ratatouille would be impressed!

"But seriously, what does the tap stand for?" your boyfriend wondered. You did it again. Tap, tap, tap.

"Isn't it obvious?" you smiled. He then sweat-dropped.

"Wait, keep smiling," Crispin leaned over the table, removing a tiny bit of the dahon sibuyas stuck on one of your front teeth with his nail. He then popped that finger into his mouth, making you blink at the action.

"Ay, may naiwan pala. Hehehehehe." With how long you two have been dating, you were no longer embarrassed if you did get anything stuck in your teeth and he had to get it out (it's happened in more occasions than you could count). You did the same to him (and trust me, you were way past the stage of getting grossed out from the gross habits couples did). At least you two were a hundred percent comfortable and open to one another, right? Sanaol.

Crispin nodded, going back to eating his noodles, "Okay, back to the topic. What does this—" He tapped your palm the same way you did. "—even mean?"

Your grin just grew wider then you whispered into his ear, "I love you."

"... I love you, too," he answered automatically, still not understanding. "But what do the taps mean? You keep doing it and—"

You did it again on his hand.

"I." Tap.

"Love." Tap.

"You." Tap.

At long last, that look of realization came upon his features, "... Aaaaaaaaah."

You chuckled, all brightness and merriness from your revelation to the man you loved. "Gets mo na, mahal?"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Oo, mahal. Hehe."

"... Can we order another bowl of ramen? Please?" With those puppy-dog eyes? Crispin could never resist. He'd rip the world apart for you and build it back up from scratch if you wanted him to.

That was how deep his love was for you. Kapag nagmamahal ang isang diyos, walang imposible... 'di ba?

He was already raising a hand to call for a waiter, "Sure. Basta maubos mo."

"... And if half lang maubos ko?"

He sighed, "... Edi ako kakain sa anong maiiwan." What was the saying whenever you found your soulmate? Oh, yes.

True love is getting fat together.

Maybe it was true for both of you.

When you two exited the ramen place, you patted your bloated tummy. "Haaaay, busog na busog si food baby," you sighed in happiness, adjusting the the top of your high-waisted skirt to loosen it up for more space. You elbowed him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows at him and mimicking Kylie Jenner, "Soooo, I'm thirty-four weeks today."

"'Luh, ang drama mo," Crispin snickered, poking your rounded side playfully and making you pout. "Nagdadalang tao ka pala, ha. Ako ang tatay pero hindi mo sinabi sa akin na buntis ka." He wouldn't lie, but thoughts of you being pregnant with a child warmed his entire being. Mini-yous and mini-hims running around.

What a dream.

"Nagdadalang tae lang po, manong," you stuck your tongue out at him, then stopped. He stopped walking, too, looking at you questioningly.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mahal?" you paused. Gulugulugulugulu. Oh no. Mayday, mayday!

"Did you forget something at the restaurant?" he asked. You shook your head in response, telling him there was an emergency.

"... Mahal, natatae ako."

"Like, now?" You nodded at him with wide, doe-like irises. His eyes crinkled, finding the situation hilarious. "Really? Oh shit. Literally. Is this because we were talking about poop?"

Crispin could only cackle as you rummaged through your bag for some wet wipes (and the situation led to you two running around the mall like psychos looking for the nearest restroom—grabe ang cold sweat mo, sis; it was that type of pooping session).

As he waited outside the women's comfort room, he found himself smiling like a weirdo from your date today. Nagdadalang tae o nagdadalang tao, he wouldn't love you any other way.

"Punong-puno ng ligaya ang ating pagsasama."

He found himself unconsciously doing the tapping to you, as well. Tap. Tap. Tap. He only now realized how many times you've been saying "I love you" everyday. Usually, you'd only verbally say it out loud three times: in the morning waking up, whenever he left for a mission, or the times you went to sleep together (because of the nature of his work, it was uncommon, but if he was at home during the night, he'd make sure to say it to you). But now that he knew what the taps meant, he counted them for one week from Monday to Sunday.

You were sitting on the couch, on your stomach and sprawled vertically over his lap. He was watching a basketball game on television while you were on your phone, scrolling through Facebook. It was all quiet until he tapped his finger thrice on your calf. You beamed, rolling over to face him then gently tapping his cheek three times—not with your fingers, but with your hands, smooshing his cheeks then pecking his lips.

"Fwifee-hweif," he said. You tilted your head at him, letting go of his cheeks.

"What was that?" you curiously inquired.

"Fifty-eight," Crispin gave you his signature flirty grin. "You tapped me one hundred seventy-four times today. And one hundred seventy-four divided by three—because I love you has three syllables—is equal to fifty-eight." His affectionate gaze to you softened. "Mahal, you've told me I love you fifty-eight times today."

You just hugged him and hid your face in his neck, "I love you, too, manooooong."

"... Wanna watch a K-drama tonight?" he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as you laid your head on it.

"Mmhmm."

You guys ended up binging Scarlet Heart Ryeo and bawling your eyes out (Crispin cried louder than you, actually, and the box of tissues was passed back n' forth between you two).

"Punyeta, walang Season Two?" Crispin cursed, blowing his nose.

You hiccupped, shaking your head and scrolling through the categories, "W-Wala e-eh, m-mahal."

"Seryoso ka ba?" he gaped, wiping his tears after wiping yours. "That's how it ends?"

You nodded, sniffling, "Uh-huh."

The next morning, when all of you gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Alexandra and the others could only stare, nagtataka kung bakit namamaga ang mga mata niyo (yeah, they were swollen as hell).

"... Anyare sa inyo?" Alexandra quizzed. Hank, while pouring everyone some juice, had a worried look on his face, too.

"Nag-away ba kayong dalawa, Kuya?" Basilio questioned. You both shook your head simultaneously.

"Hindi," Crispin shortly answered, exhausted from crying with you all night.

"Nanood lang kami ng K-drama," you supplied, as worn out as your boyfriend was.

"Aaaaaaah."

"Na parang wala nang sisira ng lahat."

The date always held some significance to him, not only because it meant only a few days before Christmas but also because it was the day you promised to one another that you'd be endgame.

December 1st.

It would repeat in his head over and over again until the day he died.

The two of you were lying in bed, the cold night air entering through the open windows. You were leaning on his chest in-between his lap, reading The Count of Monte Cristo. He noticed that your expression often shifted between being giddy to being angry or smug at what was happening to the main character.

"... Mahal?"

"Yeah?" you responded, not taking your eyes off the novel. You flipped another page.

"What kind of ring do you want? Para alam ko kung magkano ang iiponin ko?" he quietly asked, his thumb caressing your temple. Normally, men wanted this to be a surprise or didn't talk about this but he only wanted you to have something you'd cherish for the rest of your life. You tilted your head back to look up at him. "Do you want those with the big gems or the smaller and simpler ones?"

You gazed back at your novel, then sat up and closed it, turning to look at him. "Crispin." You took his hands in your own (he tapped it thrice, making a teeny smile creep up your lips). "Hindi ko kailangan ng singsing."

His eyes grew wide, "... Are you sure? You don't want to be formally married?"

You frantically shook your head, "Nooooooo, noooo! That's not what I meant, dummy. I just wanted to tell you that I don't need an expensive ring to be yours." You kissed him. "And to be your wife."

"Pero—"

"Mahal, if we ever do have kids, mahal ang gatas, diaper, at tuition," you childishly told him. "Kung magpapakasal tayo, I don't need a huge proposal or a big wedding. Let's put the funds away for a house and for the future, 'mkay?"

"... But you won't have a ring," he sulked.

Getting an idea, you hopped off the bed and open your cabinet, finding a piece of durable string on one of your shirts. With a strong tug, it came off. You walked back towards your boyfriend, flopping back down then looping it on your left ring finger. You held your hand up to him, "There. I have a ring now, see?"

Crispin had never ever loved anyone as much as he did right now. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, though. "... I feel like I've seen this in a movie before, mahal."

"Duuuuh. I got the idea from the Count of Monte Cristo. Mercedes promises herself to Dantes with a string ring! Sorry nalang if copyright infringement ang ginawa ko, hihi." You showed him the book you were reading, the smile not disappearing from your face. Feeling ecstatic, he kissed you passionately right on the spot.

"Ipapangako mo sa akin na magsasama tayo nang walang hanggan?" Crispin whispered against your lips. "Magpakailanman?"

You kissed him, rolling your eyes, "Oo na, Crispin. Corny mo talaga, manong. Such a hopeless romantic, like me!" Another kiss. "I'll stay with you forever and ever and eveeeeeer and grow old with you. We'll get that rest house in the mountains, travel the world together, win the lotto, and do anything we want!" you declared determinedly.

"Promise? Talaga?"

You grinned, wriggling your little finger, "Pinky promise."

He linked his pinky with yours, "Okay. Pinky promise, wifey."

"Okaaaaay, hubby," you quipped, settling down and snuggling into him.

9:24PM, he saw the digital clock display before he pulled the covers over you both, keeping you warm and safe in his arms.

"Bakit pa dumating ang oras na ito?"

"Mahaaaaal, pauwi na ako. Huwag kang mag-alala," you quietly told Crispin over the phone. He was on another investigation, but while their bossing was speaking to Captain Guerrero and Lieutenant Tapia about the case, he used the spare time he had to check up on you.

You had been buying groceries, but knowing you, Crispin had a feeling you had gone to do some other errands.

"Pauwi ka na? Meaning, you're driving home?" He sighed, "And why are you whispering?"

"... Ehehehe," you nervously giggled.

"Anong ehehehehe?" the demigod asked you, suspicious. "Mahal, saan ka na ba talaga?"

"Nasa banko pa ako. Oopsies," you admitted shamelessly. "But I just finished paying the bills. I'm actually walking away from the counter now and—"

You suddenly stopped talking. For a second, the son of the wargod thought that the signal had gone bad.

"Mahal?"

Your voice had gone distant, but it seemed like it was talking to someone else. He strained to hear what you were saying.

"Hey, hey... shhhh, little one, huwag kang umiyak," he heard you say. Your voice seemed so far away. You seemed like you were trying to shush a person. A kid.

"I want my mom!" a child wailed.

"... Langga, come here. At huwag kang masyadong maingay." If it weren't for his heritage as a god, he would have barely been able to hear what you said.

Were you comforting a kid? Awww. He was about to just end the call then text you instead when another much louder and crueler voice could be heard over the phone. No, there wasn't only one voice. There were more.

"Mamatay kayong lahat! Balang araw, hindi na mga tao ang mamumuno sa mundong ito!"

Then there was a sound that was unmistakably a gunshot.

"Nabalitaan ko na wala ka na."

Bang!

His blood went cold. Almost every day he handled firearms in his line of work, so of course he knew what it sounded like. The shrieks and terrified shouts came after the gunshots.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The last thing he heard were more gunshots, then the call ending.

He had never sprinted to Alexandra so fast before, frantically begging her to let him use the Dragon's Gate to teleport to wherever you were, even if it made him physically sick and nauseous.

Crispin didn't give a damn what happened to him, as long as nothing happened to you.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo hindi mo ko iiwan?"

It all happened so fast. One moment he was silently praying to Bathala for your safety while looking for you in the chaos. The next? He was scouring through the overwhelmed emergency room of the nearest hospital, where it was flooded with victims from the mall shooting.

It was a mess, with bleeding patients on the floor as nurses tried to assist. Others were seated on monobloc chairs that had been quickly put on the corridors. There was an overwhelming number of patients taken to the hospital either through ambulances or police cars themselves. It already began to stink of death, and Crispin hated it. His bloodlust as a wargod was creeping up his veins from the stench and his inner fury, but he held it in. He needed to find you first.

Behind him, Alexandra and Basilio were searching for you, too. When he told them what happened, they didn't hesitate to help and be transported to the mall as quick as possible. Captain Guerrero had already dispatched units after hearing what occurred (there was also an alarm that had blared in the station—a bank employee must have pressed an emergency button or something).

Surprisingly, in the midst of the havoc happening inside the hospital, he found himself walking towards the Trauma Bay of the hospital like a magnet. He had no idea where he was going, but he just kept going, and he stopped by a less crowded hallway. If he just went straight forward, he would be entering an operating room.

"Excuse me, coming through! Make some way!" It was a doctor who yelled from behind him. He turned around.

"Hindi papabayaan na ako'y mag-isa."

And as if time went by slower, he found you on a stretcher, being wheeled through the corridor as a nurse was on the bed with you, performing CPR. He saw the amount of blood gushing out of the bullet wounds on your body; one on your back, another on your stomach, and a third on your thigh.

Crispin couldn't help but run after them, asking one of the health professionals what was happening to you, "Nurse! Nurse, is she going to be okay!?"

"Are you her family?" they quickly interrogated. Alexandra and Basilio rounded the corner right as the nurse asked him that. Both held their breaths when they saw the tormenting state you were in, unconscious and on the brink of death.

The eldest demigod frenziedly nodded, "Yes, yes! I'm family!" He glanced at your bleeding form, and his heart clenched seeing the string ring on your finger, a bit of blood splattered over it. "I'm... I'm her husband! Asawa ko siya!"

You weren't formally or legally married yet, but to his eyes (and many of the others who knew you both), you were practically husband and wife.

"Good," the nurse said as they rushed you into the O.R., stopping Crispin from entering any further. "Sir, we need you to tell us your wife's name and her health details, please. She has to be operated on as soon as possible. We need her age, blood type, her comorbidities or allergies, if any..."

Crispin knew them all. He'd memorized them. And he told the nurses everything they needed for the operation. As long as it saved you, he'd say anything. Do anything.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo sabay tayong tatanda?"

It was a grueling operation, he could tell. Crispin had been pacing continuously in the waiting room, not even daring to sit from how anxious he was about you. Hank had come instantly to the hospital after hearing, and now there were three seated and extremely worried people watching him panic outside the operating room.

"God, please let her be okay," he continued to mumble to himself, fiddling with his fingers. "Please, please, please..."

"Kuya, umupo ka muna," Basilio tried to convince his brother.

"Oo nga," Hank frowned.

"You've been standing for five hours," Alexandra gave him a saddened look. "You should rest."

The older demigod shook his head, "I can't, bossing. Hindi pwede. Not until I know that she's okay."

As if on cue, the head surgeon came out of the operating room. Crispin nearly jolted and would have grabbed the man's collar had it not been for Alex and his brother holding him back, calming him down. No one could tell what he was about to say until he removed his surgical mask.

The four occupants waited for his response, antsy. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Doc? Is she okay? Is she gonna be alright?" Crispin asked, troubled out of his mind. Alex's grip on his arm tightened, and so did Basilio's hold on his shoulder. "Doc, please say somethi—"

"... I'm sorry," the surgeon shook his head, a somber look on his face.

It was like the universe stopped for the demigod. The two people holding him were the only ones to support him when his knees buckled.

"We did everything we could. She lost too much blood, and the bullets hit too many vital organs," the doctor explained forlornly. "We performed CPR and a cardiac massage on her for thirty minutes, but she did not make it through the rest of the operation."

The words just echoed emptily through Crispin's ears.

"Bakit bigla ka na lang nandiyan sa kabilang buhay?"

When he entered the morgue alone, he didn't know why but he was expecting you to be sitting up and smiling, almost hearing your teasing voice telling him it was all a cruel prank. At first, that was what he saw. He saw the love of his life, soft skin flushed and curled up lips filled with so much love directed at him. He saw you radiant—glowing; that familiar twinkle in your magnificent eyes. He reached out to hold your left hand, awaiting its warmth.

Awaiting the three taps.

The taps that would tell him "I love you" and "I'm okay".

Crispin even waited a minute. Maybe you were still there, hanging on. Maybe... just maybe... you were fighting.

"Mahal?" he croaked out, squeezing your hand.

"Paano na ang lahat? Paano na ako, tayo?"

Those three taps never came. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Only then did he really see you. The illusion all came crashing down.

Now your skin was so cold. So lifeless. So... opposite from what you were when you were alive. You were pale. Your lips were tinted blue. You were so still. So deathly still. Not one movement.

It freaked him out.

He couldn't believe it was you on that metal table—it didn't look like you. Where was the halo he always saw around your head? Where was that beam of light following you around?

His rose-tinted glasses suddenly became grey and dull. Taking your left hand, Crispin felt his heart shatter even more when his hand brushed the string ring on your finger. They had cleaned you up and made sure there was no blood left on your body, but nothing could remove those tiny, miniscule splatters that stained the string.

Remnants of what happened today.

You never did remove it. Even when showering or swimming or washing the dishes, you'd joked to him.

"See? 'Di ko nga kailangan ng singsing. Mas maganda pa nga 'to, eh. I can wear it all the time! Matibay pa!"

Crispin could nearly hear you, but it was all just a memory in his mind. God, he didn't want to forget your voice. Your laughter. Your cries. You whispering to him how much you loved him. He couldn't. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did.

Both of you didn't even get to say "I love you" one last time. But reality was harsh, and this wasn't a movie where the leading characters could have a lengthy monologue confessing to each other as the dramatic scene was drawn out from seconds into minutes.

There were no camera angles, no music, no time left, and no happy endings. Everything was raw. Real.

"Hindi ba't sinabi mo sa akin na sabay tayong mangangarap?"

"Mahal," his voice trembled as he held your icy hand to his lips, kissing it. "Huwag mo akong iwan. What about us? Our dreams? Andami pa nating pangarap, 'di ba? Mga gustong gawin?"

No response.

"Tatatanda pa tayo, 'di ba? Bibili pa tayo ng bahay na nasa bundok... then we'll travel the world together, right? We've... We've saved up half of the funds! You... You can't leave now..."

Silence.

Crispin felt tears dripping down his face. He hadn't noticed he was crying. Only with you could he be a sniveling mess—around the others, he always had to be the kuya. The responsible one. The oldest one. The loyal bodyguard.

With you? He could be anything and you would never judge him.

Even when you were dead, he was still a sniveling mess in your arms.

"Sabi mo gusto mong manalo sa lotto," he choked out, cupping your cheeks. It was so strange to him; how colorless they were compared to how... spirited you were in life. "I'll do that... I'll make that happen. Just please... please come back to me. Gagawin ko ang lahat... bumalik ka sa akin, mahal. Mahal..."

Crispin told himself nothing was impossible when a god loved someone, yet now all this god could do was be paralyzed by his despair.

"Bakit bigla kang lumisan nang hindi man lang nagpaalam?"

They say there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. People don't talk enough about how they weren't actually stages. They were just five emotions and there was no particular order they came in. They would come and go, and that was how dealing with loss really was.

Today, as he was cradling his departed soulmate and the only woman he knew he'd ever love this much—reduced to tears while nursing his broken heart—he was feeling denial, bargaining, and depression all at once.

Only then did he allow himself to feel anger—just pure, unadulterated fury—when Alexandra let him and his brother unleash their bloodlust to the guilty aswang clan that had been the culprits of the mall shooting. The bank robbery.

He had his vengeance.

The son of the wargod nearly became a god of war that night, coming home soaked in the same crimson that dripped off his guns. He swore to himself he'd rip the world apart for you and build it back from scratch. Thus, Crispin was merciless to those who murdered you and all those other innocent humans.

He took his time watching the life dissipate out of their eyes, especially since he didn't see yours before you died. They were already closed when he got to the hospital too late.

Denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. He'd felt all that as time passed, on and off.

Acceptance? That last stage? That last emotion? Crispin never did really get to that point. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn't. Only more time would tell.

"Isang malamig na hangin ang yumakap sa akin."

The demigod sat under the tree that shaded your gravestone, a bouquet of white and red roses beside him while he relaxed on the grass. It was a classic symbol of true and everlasting love. That was the vow you'd made to one another, right?

December 1st.

It had been one year since your death. Wasn't it funny how the fates worked? Two years ago, on this very day, you two promised each other that you'd be together forever. He said that this day would be memorable to him until the day he died because technically, it was your engagement slash informal wedding anniversary.

Then one year ago, you had been shot trying to protect a child from those armed aswang. You saved the kid, alright. Crispin even made sure that the little boy, one of the lucky survivors of the shooting, wouldn't be targeted by the aswang. He ensured your sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. But what was supposed to be a marriage anniversary turned into your death anniversary.

December 1st.

The day would indeed be eternally ingrained into his mind.

But now, he could only dwell on nostalgia as he crouched and cleaned your gravestone, polishing it after removing all the grass and dirt. Engraved on it were the words beloved friend, sister, and wife.

Wife.

He really should have married you before you were declared dead. It didn't matter now; you would always be his wife, even in death.

On the left side of your gravestone was his mother's tombstone. He did the same, cleaning it and polishing it. When he was done, he tapped your gravestone thrice, "Una na ako, mahal. Paalam din, Ma. Baka hanapin pa ako ni bossing."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He jerked, swerving around and standing up. He swore someone just touched his shoulder and—

Whoosh!

"Parang isang pahiwatig na magpapaalam ka na."

A gentle breeze came from behind him, where the tree was. Once more, he turned around.

Crispin didn't know what to do.

He thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. Not with the way your hand rested on his cheek. Not with how warm you felt.

Despite seeming almost transparent, you looked absolutely radiant, more so than when you were in life. If he was biased before about you having a halo and a beam of light following you around, now he wasn't (because you really did have a golden circle on your head and a candescent glow behind you).

You didn't speak, but again, you tapped your index finger thrice on his cheek. He was too stunned to react to the featherlight touch you had. It was almost nothing, but it was there. A ghostly tap, tap, tap.

"... Mahal?" he whispered.

You joyfully beamed at him (God, did you look divine), then planted a fragile kiss on his lips. You settled down on the roots of the tree and patted the patch of grass beside it. He sat down slowly. When he did, he removed his black gloves while you intertwined your hand with his.

On his left ring finger was a string ring made from that old shirt of yours. The same one you improvised your string ring from. It was how Crispin always remembered you and how he brought your memory everywhere with him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The triple tapping. Perhaps it was your way of wordlessly saying you loved him while simultaneously bidding him goodbye as a ghost. He didn't know. You couldn't speak (or he couldn't hear you), so you did what you could.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Just that gesture every once in a while as you quietly listened to him tell you about his day.

When he had to leave, he saw you there by the tree, sitting and waving at him. The next time he came to visit, you were there. Always there, waiting.

And when you weren't, after a couple of decades, Crispin knew that it was time for him to let you go.

To let himself move on.

But that didn't mean he stopped hurting or stopped loving you. He could never stop loving you. Never.

Kahit kailangan ka niyang bitawan upang makapagpatuloy ka sa kabilang buhay, habangbuhay kang minahal ng isang diyos ng digmaan.

× AUTHOR'S NOTE ×

Nasa mood kasi akong manakit ng tao (because ngayon ko lang pinanood ang mga pelikula ni Rico Yan & Claudine Barretto after his death; ang pait eh, right person but wrong time). Medyo sadista pala ako, haha. Ayun, pati ako umiiyak habang nagsusulat nito. Even when I was showering, I was still crying and blowing my nose out. Sana nagustuhan niyo kasi pati author niyo nasaktan sa ginawa niya. 🥲😅

And that tapping gesture was inspired by a random Reddit post I saw years ago. As someone whose love language ain't saying stuff out loud, that just really called out to me. Acts of service kasi akin, eh.

Anyways, I finished writing this at like, 12AM. I'll just edit the typos and errors tomorrow because I want to get this oneshot off my chest. Goodnight! 😂💤

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, too! (Yes, you may also rant at me for this.) 💙

TAGLIST: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @hannalogies @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie @haliya-mori

[poguesrforlife]

Young and Beautiful | Rudy Pankow - Part 4

I have to apologise... THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG! I am truly so sorry and I hate how this came out and it feels like a stupid filler and ugh. I hope you guys still love it. Again can't thank you enough for all the support! Tagging all of you lovely people took nearly as long as writing this (just kidding) but you guys truly I Love you. In the next chapters be prepared for: angst and smut and a whole roller coaster of Rudy and Y/N.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Trigger warning: swearing? pretty harmless otherwise

Word count: 2,074 words

Y/N just got the role of her lifetime, starring beside the cast of Outer Banks in the second season as JJ’s love interest. It’s a dream come true and gets even dreamier when she meets Rudy Pankow her alleged love interest. Lines start to blur between reality and film and Y/N is left wondering if taking a leap of faith is worth risking her career.

[GIF not mine credits to owner]

The salty scent of chicken stock filled the apartment as you stirred the wooden spoon through your concoction clockwise. All bright lights were shut off except the one above the stove, lulling the place in darkness. You could barely make out the two suffering figures on the couch.

“I think my head is going to explode,” Madelyne whined dramatically and snuggled deeper into her blanket which made you chuckle.

“Stop whining!” Madison whined right back and rubbed her temples, hugging a trash can close to her.

Both of your friends were currently nursing a really bad hangover and you had been assigned as their caretaker for today, as you were wondrously quite alright after your adventurous night out.

“You both are babies,” You pointed out and transferred the soup you had prepared to two bowls. 

With a tray loaded with hangover cures you made your way to the living room and the two invalids.

“What’s that?” Madelyn peeked up when the scent of the soup hit her. You could only laugh at her big brown hungry eyes.

“Pelmeni soup, a hangover cure from home. It’s basically broth with some special dumplings.” You handed her the bowl carefully and watched as she eagerly began eating.

Madison however was harder to convince.

“If I eat anything right now it will land on the carpet three seconds later,” She warned and hugged her trash can closer.

“Believe me, it’s gonna help,” You passed the bowl over to her suspicious face, “Just eat it. You need the electrolytes.”

“It’s that what the Gatorade is for?” Maddie inclined and tried reaching for the blue bottle without spilling the contents of her soup.

“Yeah,” You laughed and helped her reach the bottle.

Content silence ensued as you watched your friends eating without complaining once. When you thought they were satisfied for now you made your way back to the kitchen to check up on your phone. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered when you saw the messages on your screen.

Rudy: - Am I the only 1 who’s not turned into a whining baby last night? - 

Chase won’t stop complaining about his headache - 

Yesterday was definitely more fun… a lot more x - 

Do u have a hangover as well? I could take care of you, rather than Chase -

Miss u already <3 -

You couldn’t help but feel a little mad at yourself for having such a strong liver. You wished Rudy would take care of you right now, but instead you were stuck with tweedledum and tweedledee.

You: - I’m doing surprisingly fine after the tequila fiesta I had -

Though I am familiar with the whining concept… - 

Just made some hangover soup from home, if u wanna get some for Chase -

U know so u wouldn’t have to miss me anymore x -

You felt quite bold after sending that last message but you couldn’t help the longing all your body seemed to have for the blonde boy that had enthralled you last night.

A minute after the blue ticks appeared next to your message there was a knock on your door. 

The Maddies groaned from the living room at the loud noise and you hurried towards the source. 

A smiling Rudy was staring back at you as you swung the entrance door open.

“Wow, you are quick,” You breathed out surprised and stepped aside so he could come in.

“Had some good motivation,” He whispered and left a soft kiss on your cheek as he hugged you sideways. You could already feel the blood rushing to your head by the simple gesture. 

He gave you his signature Rudy smile as he saw your flushed cheeks but you only rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the kitchen.

“Who’s that?” Bailey screamed from the other room which made Rudy pivot in his step and make his way towards your invalids.

“G’day sunshines,” He greeted the two blanket burritos loudly. Without hesitation he flipped the lights on. Devastated groaning could be heard from the two girls.

“Oh my God, why did you invite him?” Madison whimpered and buried her head deeper into the blanket.

“He is literally the biggest pain in the ass,” Madelyn agreed and slurped on with her soup.

“Geez, I love you guys too,” Rudy fired back and let you pull him back into the separated kitchen.

“I feel sorry for you, Chase is not even half as bad as them and you have two,” He admitted and followed your body instinctively as you leaned against the counter. 

“We should pile all of them into one apartment,” You thought out loud and watched as he cornered you between his arms and the counter. His muscled arms on either side of you and the proximity of his body to yours drove your hormones crazy and you had to cross your arms to keep from touching him. 

“So we would have an apartment to ourselves?” His eyes rested on your lips as he spoke, not seeing how you rolled your eyes. But either way you couldn’t ignore the effect these words had on you.

“So we could take better care of them,” You finished your thought in a serious tone and unwound your arms to push him back a bit.

He was quick to catch your wrist however and pull you even closer towards him. “I can take real good care of you, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you didn’t miss the innuendo. Some part of you would have kissed him senseless right there if the girls weren’t in the room next door.

A whole other part however was nagging with self-doubt. 

You were scared to your bones to screw this up. Not only your friendship, or relationship or whatever this was, with Rudy, but also your very first shot at a break in the business.

What if you fell in love? And he didn’t? What if you couldn’t look at each other at some point? 

It was eating you alive to only think about all the risks you were taking at this. But a bigger part of you wanted him, needed him. Yesterday night only made the feeling worse.

“What’s going through your pretty head?” The blonde Adonis in front of you whispered. All your worries seemed to wash away as you locked eyes with him.

“Nothing,” You shook your head and nestled closer to him. Body to body, heart to heart and finally mouth to mouth.

He lowered his lips on yours gently, so different from last night, so sweet. You would never get tired of kissing him, of feeling the soft pillows of his lips move against yours. You broke away from him before it got too heated, remembering the two girls next door.

“So,” He breathed heavily, clearly shaken up by the little make-out session, as his hands went though his hair, “Should I get Chase?”

You laughed at his disheveled appearance, a little proud that you could make him behave like that with just a kiss. 

You nodded and left another kiss on him, slightly biting his bottom lip and dragging it out while staring at him. His lips chased after yours as his eyes widened. But you were quick to sneak out of his hold and towards the living room.

“Little tease,” He chastised you and smirked as he left the apartment. 

“Where did the little mischief maker go?” Madison inquired as she heard the door slam.

“Getting Chase,” You explained and plopped down on the edge of the couch to hand her the still full bottle of Gatorade.

“Is he hungover as well?” Madelyne inclined and you noticed immediately how she tried to fix her hair a bit and sat up straighter. You were more than convinced at this point that something was going on between them. 

You just nodded and waited for the two boys to come around again. Rather sooner than later a sleepy Chase with his grey beanie shuffled into your apartment, followed by Rudy.

“I heard there’s soup,” He muttered before he scooted closer to his on film lover and Maddie lifted her blanket to share it with the boy.

You just laughed but prepared him a bowl before joining the others.

“No soup for me?” Rudy asked offended and raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re not sick, get yourself some.” You watched as he stood up reluctantly and heard a muttered ‘tough woman’ under his breath as he passed you on his way to the kitchen to fix himself some of the homemade food. 

The rest of the afternoon was filled with movies and more soup as you nursed your friends back to health. You made a point of sitting as far away from Rudy as possible. You knew you couldn’t trust yourself or him for the matter. If you wanted to keep this to yourself you needed to be careful. But the constant looks he sent your way every few minutes didn’t really help. Admittedly you couldn’t help staring at him as well.

How could you? His jawline was perfectly chiseled like an ancient greek sculptor had brought it into existence. His lips too plumb and rosy for their own good. And his eyes… you could drown in his deep ocean blue eyes. 

Madison cleared her throat slightly when she caught you staring and you immediately turned your head and blushed in embarrassment. So much for being careful. 

“You guys,” Madelyn suddenly stopped the Disney movie playing on the flat screen and sat up straighter. You were sure she had fallen asleep with Chase a long time ago after they had whispered underneath their blanket. You hadn’t paid them anymore attention, granting them some privacy and also because you were too busy staring at the blond haired man that had thrown your whole world upside down just a couple hours before.

“We need to tell you something,” Chase went on and you immediately knew where this was headed. 

“Oh I know where this is going!” Madison exclaimed and sat up straighter. You chuckled slightly at her eagerness but threw her a wink, signalling that you knew as well.

“No you don’t!” Madelyne argued but the arm Chase had thrown around her protectively didn’t really help her.

“You two are dating,” Rudy threw into the room unbothered and reached for the remote to un-pause the movie. You had to suppress a laugh at his carelessness and the looks on your two friends’ faces.

“Oh my God! That is brand new information!” You screamed sarcastically which earned you a couple laughs from your friends while Chase and Maddie still had quite shocked expressions on their faces.

“You knew?” Chase’s mouth hung open as he looked between you, only now realising how they screwed up.

“You weren’t really subtle about it to be honest,” You explained and let your eyes wander to their close proximity on the couch. 

“Well, cat’s outta the bag,” Maddie agreed with a shrug and cuddled closer into Chase, totally unbothered and without a care in the world what anybody else might think. You couldn’t help but be a bit jealous about it. 

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Rudy inquired and you perked up. This you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know,” Chase admitted and looked into Madelyne’s eyes for her reassurance, “We just didn’t want to rush into things that might not be made to last. It was important for us to know where the two of us stand alone before getting anybody else involved.” 

You smiled as you saw the loving glances passed between the couple and you were more sure than ever, that this was pure love. They had taken a leap of faith and it had worked out in their favour. 

You couldn’t help yourself but search for Rudy during this moment. To your amazement he was already looking back at you. His sweet smile sent your way made you warm from your head to your toes. You knew you weren’t there with him yet, where Chase and Maddie were, but if you interpreted the gaze on his handsome face right, you had a feeling you could be there some day. But you would also take it slow. No more rushed unthoughtful acts of passion. You had to act rational about this if you wanted any chance of surviving his hurricane. You knew all too well how easy it was to drown in him and his ocean blue eyes. 

Tags: @lovelymaybankk @sspidermanss @1d5sosddl@arthiriticcricket @teamnick @lieswithoutfairytales @styles-xoxo@normatural @k-k0129 @mileven-reddie @perfektionsmakel @1-800-imagines @http-cherries @golden-eroda @outofstyles13 @jj-maybank-stan @fandom-phaser @hopelesswritingxd@teenwaywardasgardian @poguecollins @jjswhore @xpastel-kawaiix@styles-edward-harry @rollinsstuff @obx-baby @masintahin@floretsoleil @ivebeenthinkingboutu @fandomxreaders@ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @pookie-cleary @kiarascarreras@runway-to-my-aid @saturnspack @sunshinemadds@hucklebaefinn @baileythepenguin @spider6oy@whoreforouterbanks @diego-klaus-hargreeves @saltwatercowb0y @lavenderpope @prejudic3 @summer-clouds-and-long-days @lcil123 @swervavery @poguequeen @ellystone @outsider-at-hogwarts @cianawrites @harrysbbby @milamaybank @drewswannabegirl @jjaybank @merchantjj @lilpeekabooze @outerbongs @pankowstyle @family-buisnes @flowersinvegas @thefangirl05 @katrynec @ceruleanjj @o-b-x @justcallmesams @lightninglydia @this-is-bigger-than--us @thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars @sweetdreamydreams @faded-blue @unfortunatekiwitrash @losers-club6 @usedtobeaj @btsxo-xo @figure-pogue​ @yejimeji @voidsxnsets @dudebroskiprn @giveme-gaskarth​ @cailin-lefantasy​ @obx-writings​ @otrbnks​ @barnesaddicted​ @thebendslikebendover​ @fxckingmaybank

(I hope I didn’t miss anyone! If you’re not on here but would like to be send me a quick message xx)

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, yours (6) M

Word count: 9.5K (!)

Warnings: language, mature content, angst 

tags: @geniusloey @taemin-jaemin @wooya1224 @f4ncyvelvet

Masterlist / story masterlist

<– Previous

“Is it still happening?” 

Your doctor was surprised when you were sitting in her office. The triplets were with Baekhyun who was standing just beside your chair. On his chest and back he had Jun and Juna and Junhee was in the basket carrier, for once sleeping peacefully.

You nodded, trying not to feel ashamed. It wasn’t your fault that you were overproducing milk. “It seems like it doesn’t have a proper schedule. After I breastfeed or pump it starts leaking again.”

Your doctor nodded seriously, frowning. “Did you release breast milk when the babies cry? Or perhaps after an orgasm?”

Her question made you beetroot red in the face and you quickly looked down on your connected hands , suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed.

You doctor let out a little chuckle, mumbling a “cute” when you felt Baekhyun’s comforting hand on your shoulder. To your utter horror, he replied: “She releases milk at any time of the day but during sex she was complaining about feeling the pressure in her breasts. I helped her out with it so that we could carry on,” he informed, not ashamed at all.

It made you remember the time when he was shy to ask whether you two could have sex during your pregnancy. And now he said this. A typical  upgrade of a parent. You lose all sense boundaries. You did the deed and now you have kids. As simple as that.

Your eyes widened. “Well, yes, that’s true. I felt pressure during eh, sex, and I knew there would be a release so…”

“That is totally natural, nothing to be embarrassed about,” reassured you the doctor kindly. “It’s only normal for the father to try the breast milk, even more so during sexual intercourse.” She paused for a moment. “So, this is what we are gonna do - we will try a block feeding technique. You will have to empty your breasts every morning, and then try feeding your little ones. If Jun is still struggling with refluxes, this should help. He is very small but if he feeds well and correctly, I’m sure he will be just fine.”

You nodded, still feeling worried. Jun was doing well but sometimes the milk wouldn’t sit well with him which would cause the reflux.

“The first dosage of the milk consists of lactose, the fat comes quite later on during the feeding process. You are feeding three mouths, so naturally there are gaps in between and each baby can get a different intake.”

“So my wife can still breastfeed, right?” asked Baekhyun, his hand caressing your shoulder gently. You enjoyed the touch; it reminded you that you were in this together.

“Yes, of course. This technique should not be done longer than five days, however, so make sure to check for any improvements, alright?” When you nodded, she said: “I’ll examine your breasts, now, if you’ll please move to the bed and remove your top and bra.”

Ah, how much was this uncomfortable but you got used to it completely. Everyone present in the room knew your breasts very well. It almost seemed like they knew them better than you did.

“You can also try to start using formula,” suggested gently the doctor as you took off your shirt and unclasped your bra. You were sitting on the bed in front of her, the colder air in the room creating goosebumps. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I know,” you murmured, shivering at the air hitting your warm skin.

“Oh, dear, you lost quite some weight,” she said when she took a better look. “Aren’t we thinking too much about the babies and too little about our mummy, hm?” she asked in a chastising tone but with a motherly smile.

You stole a glance at Baekhyun who was caressing Jun’s head, playing with the thin baby hair, while giving you a thoughtful look.

<3

“Thank you for coming with us today,” you told Baekhyun once you finally made it home. Triplets fell asleep during the transfer, so you were trying to eat late lunch before they would wake up.

“Sweetheart,” murmured Baekhyun with a frown and he stepped closer to you, stopping you from slurping the warm soup he heated up. “What do you mean? Of course I’d come. I’m your husband.”

You shrugged, not looking him in the eye. “I know but still… I guess your job is important-“

“No, it isn’t important. It isn’t more important than you are,” he murmured gently and caressed your cheek, expecting you to look at him but you didn’t. “What’s wrong? Why wouldn’t you look at me?”

Slowly, you dragged your eyes up to meet his down-turned ones, soft and gentle. “Just a lot in my head’s all. Our parents will be arriving in a few days so I need to clean up.”

The fact that you were getting anxious because of many things happening at the same time made you not want to talk about it. Taking care of the babies, welcoming your family, making a comfortable home for them while they were there - it was a little too much.

“I’ll do that, okay? You can start the laundry but I don’t want you to stress about this, am I clear?” His voice wasn’t stern but it was strict enough for you to nod obediently, preferring the idea of Baekhyun doing all the work while you could rest a little bit.

“Good,” he smiled, satisfied, “and now give me a kiss.”

You managed to smile as you strained your neck, kissing him over the bar table. He hummed in appreciation, prolonging the precious moment.

“Now eat,” he ordered teasingly and you laughed breathily when you sat down, your tummy rumbling with hunger.

You were eating in peaceful silence, the clinking of cutlery the only noise in the apartment. The day was barely half-way done but you felt tiredness creeping up your limbs; the more you ate, the sleepier you became.

When you and Baekhyun finished, you stood up, leaving the dishes on the table and walked over to him, taking his arm in your hands and gently pulling on it. “Let’s have a little nap together, I’m tired.”

Baekhyun observed you with amusement. “Of course. I’ll just clean up and follow you.”

You pouted and shook your head, widening your eyes at him as you dragged him out of the kitchen and straight into your bedroom. He laughed as he let you, and when you reached the bed you slipped under the covers, the AC having cooled down the apartment into the perfect cuddling temperature. Baekhyun followed you and once the both of you made yourselves comfortable, you found your way to him, your head resting on his chest while he tucked your head under his chin.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he cooed into your hair. “You’ve had a long day already.”

You hummed and completely melted at the way he rubbed your back in slow, dragging motions. His scent and slow heartbeat finally made you lose conscious, dreamland welcoming you with open arms.

<3

“Look at these outfits!” Sukyeong pushed her phone into your face excitedly and you tried to not show your discomfort too obviously. You frowned with a pout as you observed a gorgeous summer dress on a model, the slit of the skirt revealing her long legs. “You’d look stunning in it!”

You sighed and reached for your cup of green tea. You were sitting in a posh tea house where one needed a reservation in order to be able to get in. Sukyeong always had your back and she promised to pay. Hence you didn’t bother looking at the price tag that went over 30.000won per one serving “You know I’d look horrible.”

She shook her head resolutely but her eyes were trained on the screen as her finger was eagerly scrolling through an endless Instagram feed with beautiful women. “You can pull off any look.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, feeling your eyes burn up with frustrating tears. Sukyeong was a great friend. But she was never a mother and had never been through a pregnancy. And it showed.

“You lost a lot of weight,” she finally looked up at you and put her phone away when she spotted your red eyes. “Since the last time I saw you- do you even eat?”

Not wanting to talk, you averted your gaze to the surroundings, noting how the tea room was peaceful. There were lots of issues within you that you refused to address, and none of them was about having triplets. Everything had to do with you.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you the past couple of weeks,” she told you, reaching for your hand.

“No, no, you have your own life. I barely had time to think, I was so busy.”

“I feel like a lot has happened during that time,” she murmured with worry, observing your pale cheeks. Sukyeong knew you for quite a while. She knew you as a determined and happy woman, very independent. Now she thought that she saw someone who really needed someone. “Is everything okay with you and Baek?”

“It’s great!” you replied quickly.

“What happened?” she asked with even more worry and this time your tears grew like sprouts, escaping your eyes. “Shh, if you don’t want to talk about it-“

“There is so much going on and at the same time…” you shrugged, not sure how to express yourself, “...nothing is happening at all.”

Sukyeong gave you some time to collect your thoughts for which you were grateful. As much as she could be a little too excited, she knew when to shut up and listen.

“A couple of weeks ago Junho appeared at our doorstep in the morning, he came with a sweater that didn’t belong to me, and Baekhyun didn’t take it too well. We had a fight. Since then, yeah,” you sighed, tapping at your wet cheeks, “it’s all weird.”

Sukyeong was silently looking at the smoothness of the table, at the tea pots filled with fresh green tea.

“It’s fine, nothing worrisome I guess,” you  added, not wanting to sound like the party pooper.

She murmured your name, and looked at you with something that looked like guilt in her eyes. “I need to tell you something…”

“Yeah? What is it?” you asked nonchalantly.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a second before she had to face your obliviousness. “It’s me who sent Junho to your house.”

“What!” you gasped so loudly some people turned to look at you, and Sukyeong quickly brought her chair closer to you, seeking a little privacy from the prying eyes.

“I gave him the sweater and told him to visit you! But my intentions were…” she trailed off, looking like a kid caught with a cookie.

“What the hell? What were your intentions?”

Oh boy, you looked pissed. Your eyes were burning up with anger.

“I wanted Baekhyun to meet him and… and… well, you know, bring some fire into your relationship-“

“Jesus Christ, Sukyeong!” you groaned, mad at her but still unable to fight the furious blush at her words. “That’s ridiculous! Me and Baek are married in case you forgot,” you added in a loud whisper. “It’s not like he just knocked me up and left!”

“I know, I know, but he was always MIA and I didn’t want him to neglect my best friend! You’re left alone with three kids!”

“What’s that have to do with making Baekhyun jealous? We had a huge fight and our relationship has been a little angsty since then.” Well, from your point of view at least. Baekhyun acted like all was fine but you couldn’t tell whether he really acted or he was actually that clueless about the underlying issues you both had. Let alone, the fight was nasty and you still had a lot on your mind to tell him but refrained from speaking up. You didn't even finish the talk after the huge fight like he said he wanted to do.

“Just so you know, you’re way too lenient about him and his darn professor job. You’ve got three babies for Christ’s sake.”

“But we need money! I’m not working and he is the only source of income we have. We live in that darn upscale apartment but at what cost? It’s hard to keep up with that and with three babies that need a nappy change almost every second hour of the day.”

“I understand it’s hard but Baekhyun does not work hard enough for you.”

Your nose prickled in an instant because she hit the right spot. You promptly looked away, wanting to avoid her fiery gaze.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your silence told Sukyeong more than enough. She sighed and crossed her legs. “What was the fight about? You said after Junho appeared you had a fight.”

After several seconds of hesitation you told her. The highlight, of course, was Baekhyun’s harsh words about your jealousy when in fact it was all pregnancy issues at the time.

“No way he said that,” she mumbled in astonishment, her eyes looking somewhere far in the distance. “He dared to twist something like that?”

You could only shrug again. “It’s already resolved. We talked it out, he apologized and I’m not planning to keep grudges against him. I can’t fight with him, Sukyeonga. If I do, it feels like I’m going against everything that is me. He is part of me.”

Sukyeong could only sigh; both in affection and slight frustration. She knew how much of a strong relationship you and Baekhyun shared, but as your close friend she was worried. As much as she trusted Baekhyun and considered him a close friend as well, he was still a man.

“You need to be stronger than that,” she told you finally with a gentle tone as she held your hand. “I’m not implying anything more, just that you should always know your worth. Even when you are head over heels for each other.”

You sighed, though a little frustratingly. “I understand what you are trying to say, Sukyeonga. I really do…”

“You need to find a hobby or a job. I know you can’t do much with triplets needing your care and even sitters are pricey-“

“I’m not leaving my kids with a sitter!”

“-so you need to find work that you could do from home.”

Another sigh left your lips, your body completely deflating. “I’m already looking around for possible jobs but yeah… I’m tied down for a bit, at least until the munchkins are a little older and can start the kindergarten.”

Sukyeong nodded in understanding. “Whatever it will be like in the future, I'll support you. And make sure to show Baekhyun you’re not tied down to him.”

<3

The time for Baekhyun’s graduation ceremony came very fast. It was a given when every day became identical with the previous one. However, the anxiety you’d been feeling due to your family arriving was just rising by each day and you didn’t like the uncomfortable pressure it left you within your chest. With crying babies, and a lot to plan for their grandparents, you felt a little suffocated. Baekhyun, even though being home a lot more just as he promised, was not that much of a consolation. You had anxiety and you didn’t even realize it.

“I’m going to go pick them up at Seoul station,” told you Baekhyun when the time came. He had his phone and wallet prepared and he was walking over to you, seated in the living room where you were feeding Jun. Gradually, you were changing their feeding habits, mixing in some formula for the babies that were growing like mushrooms after rain.

You felt your eyes burn up with tears. For whatever reason. “Okay, update me when you’re with them.”

He hummed and leaned over you, his hand resting behind you on the backrest, wafting the faint mix of his perfume and baby detergent your way. “We’ll be back with you soon.”

You finally looked up when you felt him puckering his lips for an expecting kiss. He saw the way your eyes glistened and he moved away slightly.

“Babe, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustration rising. “I’m good. I’ll be good by the time you’ll come home. I’m just-“ you stopped abruptly, shaking your head. “I’m fine there is no need to overthink this.”

“Shh, sweetheart, you’re blabbering right now,” he sat down next to you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek. “Calm down.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and you unintentionally squeezed Jun as well. He let out a little cough and you quickly eased up the hold, not wanting him to get sick.

“Give me Jun and tell me what’s wrong,” suggested Baekhyun with worried eyes. He reached out for the baby only for it to whine when he tried to disattach his little mouth from your nipple. “Junnie, let mummy go for a bit.”

You kept crying, tears creating small waterfalls on your cheeks. Letting your head drop back on the backrest of the sofa, you felt Jun finally disattach, his crying growing with every second he spent without his milk.

Baekhyun tried to shush him while his other hand brought your shirt up to cover your chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I’m so nervous and I don’t even know why,” you finally said, the wailing growing more and more irritating , causing small ringing in your ears. “I feel like too much is happening at the same time and I don’t know if I can welcome all of them here while at the same time taking care of the babies!”

Baekhyun was looking at you as he maneuvered Jun into a proper position, his head on his shoulder, his hand gently tapping the crying baby on his back. It was important to recognize when the baby was just greedy and when they really needed to feed. He was aware that you had been sitting with him for a while. “We are in this together, okay? Your priority is always the kids. I’ll take care of the rest- I thought we talked about this?”

“I know! But the house will be so full and busy and overwhelming and I just don’t want them to judge me as a mother and the way I take care of our kids and maybe they won’t like where they’ll sleep-“

“Did you already forget where we come from?” asked Baekhyun seriously and with that your crying ceased. When Baekhyun noticed, he added: “Our parents are anything but judgemental of the city life we live here. If you think they’ll judge the fact that they can sleep on a comfortable bed instead of the floor, then I don’t know if you grew up in the same village like me.”

You looked at him with red, puffy eyes. Jun was whimpering but soon a good burp followed and it made you and Baekhyun a little relieved. No reflux and a good burp. The perfect baby. “I’m sorry I’m just…” your lip trembled again, because you would never forget where you came from. What you and Baekhyun had now was so special, you forgot how a simple life was back home.

“You’re overwhelmed, I understand,” he told you, the gentleness back in his voice now. He reached out with his other hand for your thigh and squeezed it while he supported Jun’s butt with the other one. “I promise I’ll take care of everything. You do you, you do your motherly job and we will be all here to help you. They’ll most probably steal the munchkins away from us anyway,” he laughed softly.

You nodded, sniffing. “You’re right.” I hope they do, you added in your head but you hated yourself immediately for it. You desperately  wanted alone time but admitting it out loud would make you feel like a terrible mother. “You should go, honey, let them not wait for you.”

He nodded and caressed Jun a little longer before pressing a kiss to his temple and handing him back to you. “Kiss,” he demanded when you accepted the baby, and you smiled tiredly. You pressed your lips to his smooth cheek and he gave you a boyish smile.

And so, just like that the time passed with Baekhyun’s promises kept. You were relieved to hug your parents and always happy to see Baekhyun’s carefree mother and father.

When you were all at the venue, the huge hall full of older and younger people, you couldn’t help the excitement that was boiling in the pit of your tummy, mixed with anxiety. Baekhyun had to leave the apartment earlier to prepare, and thanks to your parents and in-laws you could make it safely to the busy event.

He nodded and caressed Jun a little longer before pressing a kiss to his temple and handing him back to you. “Kiss,” he demanded when you accepted the baby, and you smiled tiredly. You pressed your lips to his smooth cheek and he gave you a boyish smile.

And so, just like that the time passed with Baekhyun’s promises kept. You were relieved to hug your parents and always happy to see Baekhyun’s carefree mother and father.

When you were all at the venue, the huge hall full of older and younger people, you couldn’t help the excitement that was boiling in the pit of your tummy, mixed with anxiety. Baekhyun had to leave the apartment earlier to prepare, and thanks to your parents and in-laws you could make it safely to the busy event.

You managed to survive the ceremony with babies either looking around with curious stares or eventually falling asleep. There was only one moment when Junhee felt like scrunching up her face, letting you know she was not happy. A whimper left her and when you felt some people turning their heads you were fast to take her in your arms. Her small hands immediately tangled up in your hair because as you reached down it fell over your shoulder. 

You shushed her quietly while she made sure to let you know you would have to work harder for her to shut up. So as you bounced gently on your feet to lull her into inactivity, you caught eyes with Baekhyun who was smiling at the sight of you from afar. He was seated there, on the stage, with other masters and doctoral students. They weren’t that many altogether, but they all still heard you nonetheless.

Reciprocating the smile while feeling like you had an intimate moment with your husband, while Junhee was pulling on your hair, Baekhyun chuckled and looked back at the dean doing his closing speech, paying attention.

You sighed, realizing your elevated heart beat thanks to him. Baekhyun’s golden band on his finger shone as his hands were resting on his thighs. Your own band was, as always, comfortably sitting on your fourth finger, that same hand patting Junhee on her small bum gently.

Being at this stage with the munchkins, they were growing to like nonsense talking. You always let them converse away at home, but Junhee really felt like speaking her mind about the dean’s speech.

Gradually, more people paid attention to you rather than to the dean. You tried to shush her quickly, exchanging looks with your mother sitting on the edge seat of the row. She had an endearing smile on her face so it managed to calm you down.

Being with talkative triplets, well in this case just one out of three, came with attention.

“Baby girl, be quiet, hm?” you whispered, puckering your lips against her temple, still bouncing on your heels. “Pay attention to daddy,” you prompted but fruitlessly. “He is right there, aha-“ you turned to point your finger where Baekhyun was seated, not too far away.

Junhee pushed her fingers into her mouth as she blabbered before taking the same hand out of her mouth and smacking you with it on your cheek. Great.

“Junhee, look, daddy,” you shushed in her ear and once again pointed with your finger at your husband. You had his full attention now given how almost everyone could hear the baby talk.

Baekhyun waved cutely, smiling widely, his eyes small crescents. He sent her air kisses and you noticed Junhee watching him intently.

“D-d-d-d…” she kept murmuring and you giggled. Just then she let out a huge, screechy squeal, making you flinch away from the loudness.

“Shhh,” you tried but the dean stopped talking, looking your way now. You felt your heart drop at the attention and you took a few steps back, signaling to your mum that you’ll be outside with her so you wouldn’t disturb anymore.

“What a lively baby in the audience tonight!” pointed the dean, making everyone laugh. You managed to let out an uneasy laugh, bowing to everyone in apologies. “Is it a he or she?” He asked into the microphone and by now your heart was beating with adrenaline.

“Eh…”

“It’s a she, sir.”

Baekhyun looked proud when he spoke up from his seat, his eyes steadily set on you and your daughter.

“Very well, Mr Byun. We should invite her for speeches next time,” joked the dean and once again, everyone laughed.

You smiled, though you were beetroot red in your face. Junhee clapped cheerfully as if she understood, prompting everyone to laugh again.

“Junhee, calm down, baby,” you tried but to no avail. Eventually, you motioned to Baekhyun that you’ll be out and when you made sure the rest of the triplets were still sleeping, you slowly exited the hall; the ceremony would be ending any minute anyway.

After pacing for a couple of minutes outside in the shadow, you talked to Junhee, fueling her interest in talking as much as you could, now that you wouldn't disturb anyone. It was then that a woman in a beautiful, flowing dress approached you, taking off her dark specs before talking to you.

“Excuse me.” You turned around to her, smiling politely. Junhee went quiet at the intrusion. “Are you perhaps Byun Baekhyun’s wife?”

You nodded, a little unsurely. “Yes.”

“Nice to meet you! I knew I saw you somewhere and with the baby that looks a little like him I knew I was right,” she smiled widely at you. “I’m his colleague, I teach sports ethics and diplomacy. Jung Jaina.”

You nodded, her foreign name not processing in your mind. “Ah, nice to meet you.”

Why was Baekhyun always working with such pretty women? They looked so confident, put-together. Or maybe it was just your self-confidence that was so low.

“You’re so beautiful in real life, I can totally see where Baekhyun is coming from,” she added, her eyes sparkling. Her comment was kind, but it still left you insecure. “And this little one too.” She reached over and grabbed Junhee’s reddened cheek, pulling on it gently.

Junhee pouted big time before she pushed her tongue out on the lady in front of her. At that moment, you wanted to laugh so badly, but you tried to keep your face straight.

“She is too young, still,” commented Jaina as if it wasn’t awkward at all. You were nodding when, thankfully, your parents approached you, the hall filling out with people, waiting for the graduates to come out.

“Ah, here you are, daughter-in-law,” smiled Baekhyun’s father gently. “Let me handle her now, you worked enough,” he rasped and reached out for Junhee who was enjoying the attention.

“Very nice family, indeed,” commented Jaina as he watched you handing Junhee to her grandfather. “As you know, Baekhyun will go to Japan in September,” she started and you turned to her politely, letting her know you were paying attention. “It’s a great opportunity for him to grow. He has a huge potential. Our previous dean was young. I could imagine Baekhyun as a young dean too, if he’d work hard enough.”

“He just started. It’s way too soon to think he would become a dean, isn’t it?” you replied, smiling but not liking the direction of the conversation. Baekhyun becoming a dean would make him even busier.

“He has a lot of talents. Leadership is one of them and it’s the most important one. If he does well in Japan, which I’m sure he will, we will try to propose him the opportunity. He would have to do lots of research and teach more classes to get experience, but I have no doubts he is one of the coolest professors we have had in years. Plus, the students love him.”

“He is a likeable man,” you admitted reluctantly.

“You’re lucky,” she added with a strained smile just when you felt a pair of hands around your waist, the man in question finally appearing.

He kissed your neck, making your eyes go wide before he stood next to you and bowed to Jaina. “Miss.”

She nodded with acknowledgment. “You have a beautiful family, Baekhyun.”

“Oh yes, indeed,” he smiled cheekily, squeezing your waist.

Jaina observed the two of you a little longer. “I shall take my leave now. Congratulations, Baekhyun. See you next week.” She put on her specs and walked away, greeting people in her way.

“You met Jaina?” Baekhyun spoke up before you’d return to your family. They were too preoccupied with triplets who were now all awake.

You nodded, turning to him. His hand caressed your back. “She seems nice.”

“She is the boss,” Baekhyun chuckled, shrugging. He moved his head closer, whispering into your ear: “You looked so cute with Junhee in there, mummy.” His breath tickled you and you smiled gently. He looked at your face and stole a small kiss. “My beautiful wife.” His eyes traveled quickly over your dress, liking the way it looked on you.

“Congratulations to my smart hubby,” you played along and you circled your arms around his neck. “Your wifey is very proud of you.” You stood to kiss his cheek and Baekhyun let you. His eyes were sparkling at the sight of you. “Let’s go, triplets have something to say too.”

He laughed and took your hand, following you. He was welcomed by his parents and yours. The atmosphere was cheerful and you felt relieved that nothing bad went down during the ceremony. 

Everyone was taking pictures together, first Baekhyun alone with flowers and the majestic main building in the background, then you joined him, just the couple alone. Baekhyun tickled your sides, making you squirm and burst out into laughter while he watched you with a wide smile. He knew your parents didn't know how to work smartphones well, and so the sound of the shutter kept going off and off and off, catching every second of the banter. Your babies, each held by a grandparent, were watching you with big eyes, almost judgmentally scrunching up their faces. They were jealous when you and Baekhyn had a good time without them. Eventually, Baekhyun hugged you to his chest, his hands resting against your stomach, creating a lovely picture of the two of you. 

Of course it wouldn't be a family picture without your little munchkins. You took them in your arms before they could start a rally, Baekhuyn holding Juna and Junhee while you took your only son. As they were growing, it became harder to balance two babies in his arms, but Baekhyun would never give it up unless it was completely impossible to hold them.

You loved seeing your whole family together. But you loved it the most when Baekhyun was there, too.

<3

Both of you giggled at the same time when your hand tried to tickle his stomach and his fingers teasingly caressed your hip. You squirmed, hiding your face in his neck as you felt his breathy laugh on yours.

“Shh, don’t want to wake our parents, hm?” he hummed with a huge, boyish smile on his face but his fingers were relentless.

“Baekhyun!” you hissed breathlessly and tried to shimmy away from him but he was stronger. As soon as you managed to move an inch, he brought you back to him, his palm smoothening the skin, gently inching higher on your side, successfully leaving goosebumps in its wake. You pressed your face into his neck to hide the redness.

“I stopped now,” he murmured, a handsome timbre. “Want to leave your hiding space now?”

After a little hesitation, you leaned away from his neck and met his soft eyes. “Don’t tickle anymore.”

“I won’t, promise,” he smiled when his eye caught your pout. “But you tickled too.”

“To defend myself!”

“Then you promise too,” pouted Baekhyun as he rested his head on the pillow, facing you.

You were quick to scurry to him and he chuckled. “Okay, I won’t tickle you either. Promise,” you murmured into his clothed chest.

A hum came in a reply and you felt his head move, looking down at the top of your head. “And now seal it with a kiss.”

You smiled to yourself, letting your hand rub his chest as you looked up and strained your neck to kiss his puckering lips. A loud smack resonated through the quiet bedroom and you felt your heart skip a beat, hoping Baekhyun’s parents who were sleeping in the living room didn’t hear it.

“Mmm, one more,” you demanded and this time Baekhyun captured your lower lip, engaging you in a proper, romantic kiss that had your toes tingle. His hand came to cup your cheek and the both of you shifted, the bed sheets rustling. He hovered over you while slowly playing with your soft pillows, making sure to use minimum tongue as none of you wanted a heated session now out of all times. 

When he let go with a gentle smooch, he only moved away an inch, deciding to stay a little longer to smile at you. “You’re so pretty, my little lady.”

The unexpected words surprised you and a furious blush creeped in your cheeks, bringing sudden warmth into your body. “Ah, what are you saying.”

“The truth,” he replied calmly and pressed a final kiss to your forehead before he moved away and lied down next to you.

You sighed and once again scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his middle. Baekhyun caressed your hand and proceeded to wrap you up in his arms as well. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

“Oh baby, I’ll miss you too. And our munchkins,” he murmured and you pecked his cheek. “And these kisses.”

You smiled widely and kissed him again.

“But baby?” he asked, his voice raspy. You perked up, prompting him to go on. “Promise me you’ll keep close touch? And no surprises.”

Your eyebrows went shooting upwards at his weird demand. “We are always in close touch, honey. And whatever you mean with no surprises?”

He was observing you for a moment, thinking over how to speak his mind, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your nose and lips before looking back up to your expecting orbs. “I meant that… be careful. You’ll be home alone and I just don’t want uninvited guests.”

“You mean Junho?”

Baekhyun trailed his fingertips over your back. “Yeah,” he breathed, warily expecting your reaction. The last time you talked about Lee Junho you had a huge fight.

“I’m not in touch with him. Why would I be with him, Baekhyun?”

“He came uninvited last time,” he pointed out.

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault, but I’m just saying that if it occurs again, I don’t want you to let him in is all.”

This time you observed your husband, his calm and collected expression an opposite to your gradually igniting insides. You felt like this was unfair towards you. Again.

“I'm not trying to cage you in-“

“Are all those beautiful female colleagues going with you to Japan as well? Will somehow Jiyoung appear too?” you asked in a colder tone and Baekhyun realized that you were building up your walls again.

“Yes, one of them is,” he told you honestly. His fingers have stopped caressing your skin, now frozen just between your shoulder blades.

“Okay, well then -“ you felt a painful lump in your throat forming at the fact that he didn’t even bother denying they weren’t beautiful- “make sure you don’t have uninvited guests in your hotel room,” you deadpanned. “You are a taken man after all.”

You scurried away, his hand falling on the space you created between the two of you. Baekhyun blinked in confusion and propped himself up on his elbow, looking at your back facing him. “Baby, what is wrong now? I only told you because I’m worried.”

“And am I not allowed to be worried? To let my handsome, charming husband who always needs attention, go on a one week long trip?”

His hand found its way to your hip when you felt his front pressed to your back. “Yet that husband wants only one woman’s attention.”

“It’s not gonna work,” you muttered stubbornly, trying to suppress the need to submit to his touches. “If you think the first thing I’d do is let another man - whom I don’t even know properly - enter our place without you knowing than I don’t know what we are doing,” you told him honestly, your gaze intently set in the curtains that allowed you to see the distant lights of other high rise buildings. Since you had the babies, you didn’t bother pulling the blackouts as you never got the proper rest anyway. Had you had blackouts you’d want to stay in bed all the time.

Baekhyun sighed but he still bunched up your shirt so he could accommodate his hand under it. “I just didn’t like how he came here suddenly and with a pathetic reasoning. If he does it again-“

“But he won’t-“

“If he does it again, I don’t want you to let him in if you’re by yourself with the little ones,” he finished more sternly, gradually disliking your attitude. You knew he was getting into the “I’m older” position.

You pursed your lips; you, on the other hand, didn’t like his attitude and his request.

“Hm?” Baekhyun gently squeezed your hip, urging you to acknowledge his words. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Alright,” you mumbled reluctantly.

He was quiet for a moment, closely inspecting your side profile. “You know I don’t mean bad. We don’t know who he is and whether he is even trustable. What if he did something to you?” Baekhyun had his own point that he wasn’t willing to let up on. He was a man and he knew what a man who wants a woman looked like. You wouldn’t understand him, but he knew what he was doing and he didn’t feel comfortable with the thought of you being near him. Obviously Lee Junho didn’t give two damns that you were happily married; therefore very much taken.

“Don’t be mad,” he sighed after a while when you still wouldn’t look at him. He brought his face closer to yours. “I don’t like us going to sleep with unresolved feelings, baby.”

“Me neither,” you muttered, closing your eyes when you felt his nose on your cheek.

“Then talk to me,” he rasped into your ear as his hand wandered under your shirt, igniting your insides with passion. “Talk to oppa.”

You sighed and moved to lay on your back, Baekhyun’s hand slipping and brushing your mound. You felt the thrill curse through you at the sensation. “I won’t let him come in. I don’t think he would  even visit anymore - but okay, I won’t do anything that you’d say no to,” you started and shivered when his thumb ran under your breast. He was watching you intently almost making you think he was looking for reactions from his sneaky actions. “But I will ask you to make a definite line between you and your colleagues. You have me and three kids. I don’t want you to flirt or even acknowledge their advances on you. You’re the professor who is hot and all the ladies want but is the most forbidden fruit in the department,” you said seriously. As you talked, Baekhyun’s smile grew.

“They know my situation, baby, there is no need for you to worry. Like, none at all. I always show them pictures of our munchkins and of you. You’re literally the background of my screen.”

You knew all of it of course. His lock screen was a selfie of the two of you smiling with your sleeping triplets after you signed the marriage papers, both of you dressed up. And his home screen picture was, to your dismay, you lying down with one leg prompted on the wall and the other spread to the other side with a very much pregnant bump revealed as the shirt was bunched up, ready for Baekhyun to apply some cream against the stretch marks. You were smiling at him with glistening red cheeks and you looked incredibly happy. That picture always surprised you; you had to admit that happiness really made everyone more beautiful and you weren’t an exception.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, closing your eyes when his palm dared to take a gentle hold of your mound, the way both of your bodies shifted closer once again making the bed sheets rustle in the quiet room exciting. “I don’t want any of that,” your mouth fell open with a shaky breath, Baekhyun’s face coming to your neck where he gave you a wet kiss.

“Okay, as you say, my princess,” he breathed, his hand now massaging your mound sensually.

Unconsciously you moved towards him, trying to make you more exposed to his wandering hand, your chest widening. He nibbled at the skin under your ear, his hand still working as if making a bread dough. 

“I don’t want you to be upset with me when I mean well,” he whispered in your ear, shifting closer to you until you felt him pressing to the outside of your thigh. “I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions, baby,” he breathed shakily when you squirmed against him. You turned your head, a low moan leaving your mouth when you seeked his lips.

“I know, sweetheart,” you replied when his soft lips hovered above yours. “I know you mean well.” He hummed in reply and kissed you passionately, bringing out another small moan out of you. He traced the outline of your lower lip with his tongue, while his hand kept abusing your mound and nipple. He separated for the slightest moments, moving his head to the other direction before diving in again, pushing his tongue in as if it always belonged there. His hand traveled lower over your rib cage until it lay on your hip. He pushed it between the mattress, taking a hold of your bum, giving it a squeeze. Your own hands were messing up his hair before you dragged them over his chest and tummy, teasing the naked skin between his pants and t-shirt. Baekhyun shivered when you proceeded to abuse the inside of his pants.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed shakily when he separated with a delicious smack. “Not now.”

You were a little dizzy from the hotness of the room, your husband looking so alluring you couldn’t help yourself when you whispered: “Can you keep quiet?”

“Sweet-“

“Can you?” you pressed challengingly when you felt his own hand seeking an entrance into your panties. To prove your point, you wanted to move your hand lower but didn’t have to; you squealed quietly when you felt his tip right up. Baekhyun had to be in the mood for a while.

Baekhyun giggled at the sight of you, his face hiding in your neck to keep silent. “You dare to be innocent after what you’ve been doing just now?” he murmured and clicked his tongue. “Or after making three babies?”

You pinked, biting your lip to suppress an embarrassed laugh. “Well, to me it seems like you are refusing to answer me,” you told him mischievously as you slowly, gently pressed your palm against his length and Baekhyun had to close his eyes, his heart skipping wildly at your touches. “I’d love to-“

“Then that’s enough,” you murmured as you tilted your chin upwards, pressing your lips together. Baekhyun hummed and you felt his palm against your womanhood.

Upon feeling you up, Baekhyun abruptly disconnected your lips. “Shit, you’re soaking wet, baby,” he breathed shakily and you squirmed under him, enjoying how he was warm and just so ready in your palm. There was a particular prominent vein that you made sure to outline with your finger and Baekhyun was fast to become defenseless.

“It hurts,” you told him with your lips turned downwards, pretending to be hurt. “You need to take care of it.”

“God, where is this all coming from?”

You didn’t know yourself. Maybe you grew to enjoy the thrill of having to be quiet but be up to no good with him in your bedroom. You grew to look forward to what he would do if you tested him a little bit. You found yourself liking it when he was a little rough, a little out of his usual role.

“How about we both help each other out?” he whispered when you didn’t answer, his face close. “Like that one time,” he went on and separated your wet lips, slipping in his middle finger. Your breath hitched in your throat. “When you came to Seoul with me for the first time,” he darted out his tongue, licking at the corner of your lips.

At the mention of that one time, you almost combusted. It was the first time you got intimate with Baekhyun. He managed to persuade your parents to let him come with you when he was attending his university. They trusted him with you, though he couldn't leave without a special talk with your father. Nonetheless, it was a very, very special trip for the both of you.

“Let’s pretend it’s our first time then,” you suggested in a quiet, though a little trembly voice. “Touch me like the first time.”

If you could see properly, you’d witness Baekhyun’s pupils dilating, a flush growing in his cheeks. When your hand landed on his neck, you felt his erratic pulse and you were over the moon that you had that effect on him.

“You’d like that?” he muttered hotly.“You’d like oppa to finger you like you’re a virgin again?”

“Ah, yes,” you heaved when he added his index finger, sinking it knuckle deep inside. You didn’t waste time in wrapping your fingers around him, your thumb landing on his tip where you felt the precum leaking. You made sure to smudge it around, pressing down the slightest to get that soft, high-pitched moan from Baekhyun. He sounded wonderful. 

“You have to keep very, very quiet my little lady,” he murmured. “Since it’s your first time and you’re shy around oppa, I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” He was hinting at your past self. Baekhyun had to practically beg you to moan for him when he touched you the first time. Now he might have to beg for you to shut up.

You nodded and pumped him faster, Baekhyun’s fingers in you momentarily stopping for him to collect himself. He slowly lied down next to you, and you turned to face him. He removed his wet hand and wordlessly grabbed you under your knee before leading it on the top of his hip, spreading your legs. The two fingers were back right away and you let out a small erotic moan, making you squeeze his member a little. Baekhyun groaned quietly, his eyes closed and mouth open. The sight was out of this world and meant only for your eyes. The distant lights from outside illuminated his handsome face, his hair falling over his eyes. You’d brush it away had your hand not been jerking him off.

“Maybe oppa has to be a little more quiet, hm?”you teased breathlessly and let your blunt fingernails scratch ever so gently over the warm, tender skin before you cupped his balls and massaged them to his liking.

Baekhyun scrunched his nose, breathing frantically as he tried to focus on his fingers in you while enjoying your sinful ministrations. “Isn’t my little lady too good at this?”

You giggled quietly but stopped abruptly when he pinched your clit.

“Maybe you did it before?” he wondered aloud.

“Actually, there is this very hot hapkido master in the village,” you played along in a hushed tone and Baekhyun finally opened his eyes with a handsome smile. “He already touched me before you did.”

“So I’m not the first one?”

You dragged your hand higher, pumping him again. You buckled your hips when his thumb circled your clit while progressively adding a third finger, the stretch slightly stinking.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed with fake regret and Baekhyun groaned again, moving to crash your lips with his. He engaged the both of you in a very dirty, fiery kiss while his fingers became harsh and aggressive. You tried to follow your own hands movements but he was kissing the soul out of you. You were sure you’d bruise.

He rolled his hips into your palm and you sped up.

“Then I have to top him,” he said when he separated, breathing into your mouth. “I’ll prove you I’m much better.”

The both of you quickly let go of the old times, and with your experience now you were able to bring Baekhyun to the edge, his manhood twitching with the burning need to release. Before you could reach yours, however, he was fast to take away his hand and pull the covers off of your bodies. In came a strict order: “Suck it off.”

Just when he finished, warm liquid burst from him and you scurried to your knees, leaning over and successfully bringing him into your mouth with a hum. 

You were bobbing your head to give him the necessary warmth your mouth could provide while the release was shooting to the back of your throat. You swallowed as fast as you could though your own missed release made you a little frustrated.

When you made sure Baekhyun was all clean, you wanted to look up but he pushed you onto your back, your mouth undoubtedly letting out a squeal that was too loud.

“Shh,” he pressed a finger that was previously in you onto your lips. “You’ve got to be quiet,” he whispered seriously. And just like that, without realizing what he was up to, Baekhyun sank into you, your mouth hanging open and your back arching at the feel.

He sighed and started to thrust harshly while pushing your shirt up to suck on the swell of your breasts, as if trying to suck the milk out through the skin.

“B-Baek-Baekhyunnn,” you wailed into his ear and brought your hand to your mouth, covering it to keep it down. You were swimming in ecstasy. Your shirt was plastered to your back and your panties were basically ruined with the way they were soaked over. It was so intimate; the way you were both dressed in your sleepwear yet doing such dirty things while your parents were just outside your bedroom.

He snapped his hips and the good old build-up reappeared, making your eyes roll back. Just a few more aggressive strokes and you were coming along with Baekhyun, his hot seed filling you up. Both of you were heaving like you just ran a marathon and Baekhyun made sure to give you a sweet kiss and a little circle of his hips before he fell next to you, spent.

He turned his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly with a lazy smile. “I had to reward my princess for being such a good girl, treating oppa well.”

You smiled tiredly. “You're the best. And there’s no milk leaking,” you pointed out graciously when you didn’t feel any pressure in your breasts. “I guess the tactic is working.”

“Ah, wonderful. Now you won’t be a walking milk fountain.”

<3

Baekhyun was supposed to leave in a day and he was now out running some last minute errands, leaving you and your mother, who decided to stay at your place longer, alone. You were having breakfast, feeling starved after emptying your breasts. The past days, it seemed like Baekhyun and you were impossible not to touch one another, that wouldn’t eventually lead to something more. Especially now that he would be gone for a week, you found yourself sweaty in his arms more often. Last night wasn’t an exception, though you always had to be careful with being noisy since your mother was in the apartment. 

You hummed in delight at her pickled cucumbers that Baekhyun never liked, the crunchy sound loud in the quiet kitchen. 

Your mother was observing you and you felt it. You raised your eyebrows at her in question as you plopped another cucumber into your mouth while your other hand reached for the cup with fresh green tea your mother brought from the village.

Maybe she was shocked at how particularly messy you looked today. You didn’t bother tidying your hair and your shirt was wrinkled as it was carelessly tossed away the previous night by Baekhyun’s eager hands. Your bare legs were on full display as you felt unusually warm, your panties a good enough cover. 

“Daughter,” your mother decided to break the silence, “are you and Baekhyun perhaps… trying again?” 

The cup you were drinking green tea with froze mid way to your mouth. “Huh?”

Her eyes were lower on your neck and you realized with horrification that in the busy tasks of the morning you forgot to cover up your neck that had a few love bites. You weren’t used to having other people around in your house so it didn’t even occur to you to try looking decent. 

You pinked deeply as you shuffled on the stool. “N-no, goodness, why would you ask, mum…”

She sighed. “I might have overheard you a few times already-“

“Jesus!” you gasped, not letting her finish, and you wanted to disappear from the surface of the Earth. 

“It’s fine, no need to freak out, dear,” she ensured you calmly. “I know how you two get along so well and share a strong chemistry. And you’re both in your prime years anyway. I was just worried because you still have triplets that are infants. It’s hard to be a mother to them while you have another one in your tummy, but I know you know that, daughter.”

Even though the idea made your heart skip a beat, you shook your head resolutely. You were out of that safe three month secure zone now. You could fall pregnant even if you breastfed though the chances weren’t high. And if you admitted it, you and Baekhyun were being anything but careful while getting lost in pleasure. “I know, don’t worry. We can’t afford another baby anyway. It’s already challenging financially as it is.” And you didn't even want to get into the details about having to raise kids. It made you freak out - the thought of having to lead your three munchkins in life, prepare them for the bad times while hopefully shaping them into honest and caring people.

Your mum sighed but you saw her face expression soften. “Make sure you are safe then,” she promoted.

You really wanted the earth to swallow you up. “Mum, please… how do you even know we aren't?”

“You’re not taking the pills and obviously… there is nothing in the trash.”

You gasped again and you stood up, ready to run away. “Okay, that’s it. You checked?! Isn’t it weird for you to give me safety tips after birthing triplets? Besides, we have our own trash bin in the bathroom.”

She chuckled deeply, shaking her head. “I think motherhood really changed you. In a good way. Enjoy your life, as you should. Just safely.”

You deflated and sank down on the chair again. “I am. Though not the way I thought I’d be enjoying my life at this age.”

Your mum clicked her tongue. “You should come to the countryside while Baekhyun’s not here. You could catch up with people your age and you’d have a lot of peace. And you know both me and dad want to be with the little ones, Baekhyun’s parents as well.”

As much as it seemed great, you found it incredibly inconvenient to move around with triplets. You didn’t have a car, so you were pushed to use the public transport to reach your far away village.

“I’d love to…”

“Then come.” You looked down at your unfinished tea. “Come home to us for a bit.”

Pretending to be preoccupied with scrutinizing the tea cup, you only hummed. “I'll think about it.”

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

A/N:  It took me over two hours to edit this monster of a chapter. Please comment and reblog to let me know what you thought! :)

[basicallywhiterice]

on top of the world (dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, highschool!au, dancer!sicheng, spring break trip

summary: The fall to the ground doesn’t seem so daunting when you’re living on top of the world.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: cussing

a/n: if enough people get mad at me i’ll write a part 2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but it is part 1 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

Chinatown, Washington, D.C., 7:01 p.m.

“Honest Abe? More like, honest babe,” Lucas hollers to Kun and no one in particular, drawing a few disgruntled looks from the pedestrians waiting for the walk signal to flash again. He winks at a man in a navy suit, who rolls his eyes and looks away. Yangyang reaches over for a high-five.

“Dude was 6′ 4″, of course he’s a babe,” Sicheng whistles, leaning behind Yangyang and craning his neck to steal glances at Kun’s phone.

To your right, Ningning flits around, snapping pictures of the street displays and assorted neon lights on the storefronts. You watch her alongside Giselle, who pops her bubblegum, periodically glancing at the traffic light at the bustling intersection. Standing shoulder to shoulder with you to your left, Kun rattles off a hodge-podge of facts about Abraham Lincoln and Ford’s Theatre, which you just passed by, from his phone screen to a faux-enthused Yangyang, who shakes Sicheng by the shoulders every time Kun reads a new fact. He occasionally gets pushed into Lucas’s side, rolling his eyes while doing little to hide the growing grin on his face.

“... and apparently they planned his assassination in the building the Wok n’ Roll restaurant we passed used to be,” Kun remarks.

“OH MY GOD SICHENG ISN’T THAT SO CRAZY?” Yangyang all but screams. “IT WAS IN THE WOK N’ ROLL!”

As you glance over fondly, your eyes linger on the orange hues and kaleidoscopic shadows the nearby “do not walk” signal spills over Sicheng’s face. After a moment, he looks away from Yangyang’s exaggerated bouncing. His gaze flits upwards, meeting your stolen glance with his own.

The world grinds to a halt beneath your feet when a strong gust of wind blows through your hair, propelling you into free fall into the depths of his eyes until Giselle tugs on your arm, pulling you back into the present.

She gestures toward the “walk” signal on the traffic light, and you fall in line with her quick footsteps as you stride across the crosswalk.

“We should go there later,” she suggests. “Try summoning Lincoln’s ghost or something.”

“The Wok n’ Roll?”

“Yeah. Do you think his ghost would have his top hat?”

“I thought ghosts were just spirits and didn’t take material possessions with them?”

“Yeah, but then every ghost would be naked, which would be hella inappropriate.”

Ningning overhears, skipping up to you and looping her arm through yours. “You have to prove the existence of ghosts and take them out to dinner before you get them naked, you pig.”

“I made yo momma sound like a ghost last night,” Lucas quips. “I skipped the ‘getting dinner’ part, though.”

“Goddamn,” Giselle exclaims as you burst into laughter, throwing jokes and jabs at each other for the rest of the trek to the ramen restaurant where you eat dinner.

Hilton Garden Inn, Washington, D.C., 9:13 p.m.

After helping Giselle and Ningning unpack, you knock on the communicating door between your hotel room and the boys’ in order to bother Kun.

Sicheng answers, moving aside so you can step across. Their room is surprisingly clean, although you chalk it up to the limited amount of time they had to unpack earlier today. Lucas sits at the desk in the corner near the window, hunched over his laptop while Yangyang peeks over his shoulder. You glimpse a few pictures of the Washington Monument on his screen before he scrolls down to other marble structures.

“Are you looking up other places to visit?” you ask him.

He glances up, cracking his neck before responding. “Yeah. I can’t find anything special that we don’t know about, though.”

“It’s boutta be lit,” Yanyang chimes in.

“Ayeee,” Lucas responds. They start aggressively patting each other on the back and arms, and you take that as your cue to leave before they wrestle you into whatever weird ritual they’re performing.

Turning, you see Sicheng flop down onto the bed closest to the windows where Kun lays, sprawled out. “Hey,” Kun greets, lifting his head from his pillows.

“Hey,” you reply, remembering the reason why you came to the room in the first place. “Oh yeah! I found a stop sign a few blocks from here on a decently busy street. It’ll take ten minutes to go there and back, tops.”

He groans. “I would love to go, but I just got a stomachache. Tell you what. Sicheng,” he says, propping himself up at a snail’s pace and clasping Sicheng’s shoulder, “you can accompany her there, right?”

“To a stop sign?” Sicheng asks, looking up from his phone.

“A hand-picked, top tier, magnificent stop sign,” you proclaim. “Whenever me and Kun travel, we always get a random passerby to take our picture in front of a stop sign like it’s a tourist attraction. Are you down for potential social awkwardness?”

The corner of Sicheng’s lips tugs up into a grin. “You know it. I’m not ruining your tradition with Kun, am I?” he asks, glancing sideways at Kun for confirmation.

Kun flops back down on the bed. “Nah. If I went right now, I’d probably ruin the tradition by shitting my pants there or something.”

Sicheng chuckles. “Promise? We could print out those pictures and mail them back to your parents like a postcard.”

“I like the way you think,” you say with a scheming smile, nodding at Sicheng before turning back to Kun. “Anyways, drink some warm water to help with your stomachache, maybe? What do you think caused it?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that trashcan pizza slice in the subway.” Sicheng reaches over and flicks his forehead. “Ow! I’m kidding! Why would you torment a sick man like this? Go away and take your pictures already.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask as Sicheng asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take a Pepto-Bismol in fifteen minutes. Go and have fun.” He waves you off, grabbing a spare pillow and lightly smacking Sicheng with it.

“Fine, mom.” Sicheng stands, pocketing his phone. “You ready? I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Yeah.” As he walks over to the closet, you sneak a peek at your reflection through your phone screen. Fighting back a sudden bundle of nerves, you discreetly smooth your t-shirt down, running a hand through your hair. Kun wiggles his eyebrows when he notices, and you flip him off, silently warning him to stay quiet.

He doesn’t. “Have fun on your date with loverboy,” he whispers.

“Shut up.”

“After you leave, should I check out the pool?” he murmurs. “Lucas and Yangyang said they don’t feel like swimming tonight.”

“What, isn’t your stomach—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time? Off you go!” He shoos you away, almost standing up to push you away and laying back down before Sicheng can turn around. You’re almost impressed by how well he set you up.

Still, though. If Kun weren’t your best friend, you’d shove him into the hotel’s fountain.

H Street Northwest, Washington D.C., 9:40 p.m.

Half an hour later, you give up on the facade of collecting anti-tourist pictures after the third stop sign, stopping by the Chinatown Express to grab a bowl of noodles with roast duck to go. You walk for a few blocks before finding a bench to sit and split it at, slurping them up in an appreciative silence.

“Oh my god,” Sicheng intones around a mouthful of noodles. When you look over, his cheeks are puffed, an empty spoon descending to rest inside the soup container.

“You look like one of those baby birds eating scraps,” you giggle.

“I’m certainly skilled with chicks,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, then scoot closer to pick up a piece of roast duck. Your knees touch, but neither of you move away. “Do you think there’s a more advanced form of life than humans, like aliens, and they view us how we view animals?” you ask, resuming the conversation you had about the meaning of life before you sat down. “Like we don’t think birds could become self-aware, no matter how intelligent they are, so then we can’t achieve the alien version of self-awareness no matter how philosophical we get.”

“Good question. Uh, alien self-awareness would probably relate to the meaning of life or something, right? Or the secrets of the universe and breaking the laws of physics. And because they’re so big brained, they could control things with their minds and be enlightened with telekinesis. So hypothetically, if I were a wise, sagely alien,” he says, gently picking up your hand and laying it flat against his palm, “I could make my hand pass through yours if I had enough brainpower.”

His hand is warm, and you hope furiously that your palms aren’t sweating. “Was this another excuse to hold my hand?”

“Well, did it work?”

You raise your eyebrows and fail at biting back your smile. “You already know, you just want to hear me say it.”

He grins. “Then say it!”

“Yes, Sicheng, it worked.”

“Awesome.” He moves his right hand to pick up his spoon, briefly tugging your hand with him until he realizes. “Fuck. Sorry, I have to let go of your hand while I eat. Unless you wanna see me struggle with my left hand.”

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that, I feel like that’d be an insult to the rest of the noodles.”

When you finally remember to stand up and throw away the long-forgotten remnants of your food, he holds your hand carefully but firmly as you walk past the White House, and you imagine his hold on your heart must feel the same.

Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., 11:16 p.m.

“Dance with me,” Sicheng pleads, pulling you under a streetlight. You nod, but your feet stay cemented on the brick-paved sidewalk.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s fine.” You place your hand in his outstretched one, and he lifts your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “No one’s around to judge, so just do whatever.”

“Wise words,” you deadpan, but you let his hand on your waist guide your swaying.

He’s right, though. After the initial awkwardness fades, you find that waltzing around isn’t so bad after all—especially when he twirls you around the pocket of light underneath the lamppost so gently it feels like you’re dancing on air.

And when he dips you as you throw your head back, laughing, you think you finally understand why his eyes light up every time he finishes a dance performance.

“Is this what you love about dancing?” you ask once you’ve come back up.

He nods, eyes closing briefly. “Partly. The grand choreographies are the showstoppers, but the simpler moments keep me sane.” His eyes flutter open. “I haven’t let anyone see me dance with such bad technique in a while. I’m usually not this bad, I promise.”

“I know,” you grin. “I saw you at the winter showcase. You were amazing.” Then you take a deep breath, and brace for the worst. “The lyrical piece you closed with was the one you used for your audition, right?”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Abruptly, he releases your hands and steps back. You allow yourself to feel a twinge of guilt for mentioning the elephant in the room before you steel yourself for the impending conversation.

“We should probably talk about that,” he says.

“We should. Do you want to walk around the National Mall? You said you liked it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet enough for you to overthink. Sicheng got accepted by a dance studio in Korea, after months of submitting auditions and traveling back and forth between countries. He’s leaving soon, even if he says he’s still waiting to hear back from Juilliard and keeping his options open. You see it in the goodbyes he keeps subconsciously saying and the memories he drinks in like it’s his last chance to, and you’re terrified of what your life will look like without him.

You glance over at him periodically, and he seems to be lost in thought too, staring straight ahead down the well-lit path. His eyebrows furrow as you pass under a streetlight, and you wonder if you brought it up the wrong way.

You’re disappointed in the crude way you shoved the future into a perfectly happy moment, then mad that you’re disappointed. It was inevitable that you’d have to talk about what would come after graduation, and it was inevitable that he’d have to remove himself from your side to chase after his dreams. It’s a wonder he hasn’t pulled away already.

Stupid, you chide yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, loving so hard that your chest implodes from all the weight it carries, already drifting through the pangs of hurt and the wisps of melancholy bringing about a premature nostalgia.

“I’m really going to miss you next year,” Sicheng confesses out of the blue.

You glance up. His hands are shoved into his pants pockets, his eyes roaming over your face like he’s trying to remember all the secrets it hides.

You think you might always run back to him. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:33 p.m.

“So.”

“So,” you echo. “Have you looked at decisions yet?” It’s a pointless question. You know he’s not going to Juilliard.

“Yeah, I looked at them this afternoon in the theater.” He clears his throat. “I got waitlisted.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not going to accept a spot on the waitlist.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I had made my decision anyway.” Then he sighs, his nonchalant facade dropping for good. “You can probably guess.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m accepting the studio’s offer,” he whispers, as if the air is glass and the moment could shatter at any moment. The words float there, above your head, and you imagine grabbing them and hugging them close to your chest before they slip away.

You don’t. “I figured.”

“Yeah. You knew.”

You stare ahead and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m leaving as soon as school ends,” he says, with the sideways glance that marks the start of his rambling distraction process, “and flying there on—”

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurt. He pauses mid-sentence. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy. Can we talk about this, for real? You can tell me all the details later, I just—please,” and your voice cracks, “don’t dismiss this.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A blink, and the first teardrop traces its way down your face.

You waste away the hours of your stolen youth with a boy who wipes your tears away and comforts you over the future that you’ll no longer be a part of.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:57 p.m.

“Before I leave,” Sicheng says, scuffing the heels of his shoes on the gravel pathway, “I know I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. I mean, I’m going to leave anyways, so why not, you know? I have to say something before I’m gone. Um, so, you know this by now, but I… I—” and you already know what’s coming.

“Stop. I know what you’re going to say. Give me a minute to think.”

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, his eyes wide and shining. “Yeah. Alright. Take all the time you need, please.”

In half a year, Sicheng will be gone and you will be left to pick up the pieces of your life that don’t involve him, piecing them together the best you can and carrying on like there isn’t a hole in your heart.

“I’m in love with you.” One thud of your heartbeat. Then another. “Sicheng.”

In half a year, this chance will be long gone, and if you let it slip through your fingers without grabbing on, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting Sicheng become your biggest what-if.

“I’m in love with you too.” He raises his hand to cradle your face in his palm. “Y/n.”

“I’ve wanted to say that for a while now.”

“Me too. It’s not just because I’m leaving, you know.” You nod, his palm momentarily pressing against your cheek. “You knew.”

“Yeah.”

You stare up at him, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and holds entire galaxies in his eyes.

“What are we?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about dating?”

You freeze like a deer in headlights. “Dating?”

“Yeah, would you? Like to date me?”

And then Sicheng turns into a what-if again. “I don’t know,” you confess. “I don’t know if I could handle the split.”

“We don’t have to break up when I leave. We could do long distance,” he suggests, but it sounds flimsy even to your ears.

“I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want to end up losing you.”

“I know. We don’t have to, especially if you don’t want to.”

You nod once in acknowledgment, and then you’re stepping into his arms again. He holds you securely, stroking your hair and waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I wish we had more time,” you whisper into his shoulder an eternity later. “Could we have been doing this earlier?”

“It would’ve been too fast,” he reasons, and you’re inclined to agree. “We didn’t really… not until this year…”

“Yeah.” You’ve known Sicheng for years and have been close with him for months, but you only fell in love with each other when it was too late. “I wish we started hanging out sooner.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Maybe.”

You pull back enough to glance up at him, gaze dropping to his lips at the close proximity before immediately bringing it back up. His eyes follow the movement, a smile creeping up his face.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asks, and he says it so earnestly that it’s hard to believe he’d be wrong.

“It wouldn’t,” you agree. His nose bumps with yours and you blink up at him once, twice, and then you’re leaning in until the faraway sounds of the city fade away. He’s purposeful and patient and when all you can think of is the brush of his lips against yours, it’s just you and him against the world.

One kiss might not hurt, but one turns to two and two turns to too many and when you finally pull away and stare into his eyes, dazed, your lips tingle from the ghost of his mouth on yours.

At that moment, the way his mouth slowly stretches into a grin does something to your heart, and you think you’d let it break a million times just to be the cause of his smile.

“Yes, Sicheng. Let’s date.”

He kisses you again, beaming so wide that his teeth knock against your lips and pulling you closer, almost picking you up in the process.

You wonder if you made the wrong decision.