#also thank you so much for the ask and kind words
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I Want You to Stay (12) | 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 (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (18+)
Chapter Word count: 24.7k
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: Hiii so this took a while but thank for being patient and showing so much love! This might sting a bit but I hope you enjoy it. We're close to the end so don't lose hope! 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by someone you’ve given your all to. This doesn’t feel like that, but it’s close.
It’s so damn close that you feel your chest tightening, the unfamiliar feeling of loss of a person you never even had overwhelming you. You press your palms on your ears to block the sound of your heart breaking, but even that doesn’t do anything.
You let go, your fingers now shaking as you type away. Jungkook has asked you to send him your resignation letter so he can forward it to HR for documentation. It’s like saying goodbye to him all over again, and it doesn’t hurt any less.
This is all on you though, you remind yourself. Wanting him was wrong in the first place - he’s your boss, the man who pays you, who needs you so he could do his job, so you could make his life easier. But he’s also the son of the man that your family is indebted to; a man who, in a lot of ways, shaped the way you approach life and determine what you want out of it. Jungkook stands as a reminder of who you are and where you came from, of the childhood you had, and the decisions you made to get to where you are now. You let your guard down and let him in, and you let yourself fall for a man whose own past was always going to intertwine with yours.
You don’t know what you were thinking, kissing him and believing that things would fall into place. That was the thing - he kissed you and you kissed him back, a moment of weakness that you had no business having, as if almost doing it the first time wasn’t bad enough. You planned on leaving, and you hoped that you’d get to tell him on your own terms, that you’d have time to process your feelings and then explain yourself to him, that you’d be able to process his feelings and see the sincerity in them.
But life doesn’t always play out the way you want to, and you can keep thinking that people would react the way you hope they would but you’re human. You fell into his touch and wanted so much of it that you couldn’t think properly. He asked you to stay - expected it actually, which is the last thing you wanted him to do.
And now you’re left here with a lot of emotions that you don’t know what to do with - all conflicting, all overwhelming, and all seemingly out of your control.
You can’t deny what you feel for Jungkook. The thought that he feels the same should be something you welcome, but with how you both learned about it, and with him now knowing the secret you’ve been keeping, it’s hard to think how you both could move forward without those feelings of doubt, perhaps of distrust. You know enough that those aren’t good starting points for any relationship.
You’re doing what you have to do. Resigning was always the plan, but doing it this way wasn’t. You also didn’t expect you’d be leaving so much more than just a team you enjoy being a part of and a boss you’ve come to admire, a man who’s come to mean a lot of things to you.
And so even if this is the decision you’ll make every single time, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you to be making it. Perhaps it’s now just dawning on you that you’re truly walking away from this job, and that may mean walking away from, too. This is when you realize just how big that loss is gonna be.
Jungkook made you braver. He made you feel understood and less alone. He showed you that beautiful things do exist, that you can capture them so you could hold onto the good memories, and doing that is one way to move on from the things that hurt.
Without realizing it, he’d become the person you were willing to crawl out of your walls for. But just like him, maybe your timing wasn’t right either. No matter how strong the feelings are, something just happens to be more important than being with him - feeling free is one, knowing that you’re able to do this for yourself is another. There’s wanting sincerity, too, on his end and on yours.
You know you need time to sort yourself out, to know what you want outside of all this, but the way he goes on about his business is affecting you more than you expected. He’s essentially giving you two weeks to stay in the office. He’s having Lucas fly in immediately. The implications are breaking you even more - perhaps you’ll be kept out of the projects; maybe you’ll no longer do your morning routines with him.
Perhaps he’s still overwhelmed about everything he knows. And perhaps he’s realizing he doesn’t want that complication in his life anymore. Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with you and the mess you created, given all the stress and pressure he’s under.
Maybe you were that easy to let go, too.
The thought feels like a slap on the face.
But you’re the foolish one who wanted to leave but who also hoped he’d go after you. He didn’t do it last Friday. He’s not going to do that now. You doubt that after your last day, he would do it either.
The tears dance around your eyelids. Everything becomes blurry, and after the first one falls, you stand from your desk and head to the washroom. You give yourself just 10 minutes to silently cry. You hadn’t prepared for this enough, and now the thought of saying goodbye to the team and leaving Jungkook during a big project launch weighs heavily on you.
You calm yourself down, thinking that if you’d chosen to delay it, everything else would be harder - seeing him, being close to him, knowing you both feel the same way but not knowing if that’s enough. Or if it’s real.
You get to be selfish this time and leave for your own reasons. You get to choose which heartbreak you’ll face and for how long you’ll feel it. You get to decide which burdens you’ll carry and what you’re walking away from.
The team will understand. You’ll give your all for the next few weeks you’ll be around and make sure that Lucas guides them well. Hoseok will be supportive. You know that he’ll always encourage you to go where you’re happiest. You just hope he won’t carry any guilt for being one of the reasons why you stayed now that he knows the truth. CEO Jeon might still ask you to wait, or he might just not want to see you again if he knows what really happened with his son, and that’s something you’ll have to learn to deal with as well. You don’t want to think you’re burning bridges with this decision, but you also know that those who truly care would want this for you, too.
But despite all that, the guilt and the sadness don’t go away. You’d once thought you could be happy with Jungkook. He’d given you a peek into a life where you could be, and he’d given you a taste of what it’s like to feel that all-consuming desire for someone. You don’t know if you’ll have that or feel that again for another person, but you at least now know what you’re searching for.
Maybe you’ll get over yourself and find the words to tell him what you feel or hope for both of you. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other someday. You might also have to face the possibility that this decision is what pulls you apart for good, and the thought breaks your heart again.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think of the comfort of your morning routines and the shared silence. You think about the warmth you felt from all the food he’d sent when you were sick and injured. You think about that night you felt brave because he’d been with you when you were scared. You think about the tranquility of being in his presence as you gazed at the mountains and felt free being outdoors. You think about feeling understood during the times when you’d been honest and so had he.
These are the good memories he gave you, the ones you’ll hold onto as you go through all this. You wonder if he keeps them in a nook in his heart the way you do, and if he’ll hold onto them as well as you walk away from him and from what you could’ve been.
The thoughts are enough to suspend your sadness for a while. You fix yourself up and while it wasn’t a big cry, your slightly swollen eyes could still give you away. You decide it’s not much of a problem. Until, of course, when you make it back to your desk, about to sit down to resume your tasks, and Jungkook opens his door and locks eyes with you.
There’s a moment where you hold each other’s gazes, and you see his face fall a little, softening briefly before he looks away, the seriousness coming back again. He attempts to say something but he stops, looking down at the papers he’s holding instead and asks you to photocopy them for distribution to the team.
You nod in confirmation, and as you’re about to walk out, Hoseok shows up.
“Are you free?” He asks Jungkook. “I need to run some things with you.”
“Sure,” Jungkook replies, glancing at you before walking back to his room.
Hoseok finally turns to you and sees your glassy eyes. His face falls, unsure how to comfort you during this time. He was never sure how to do that before, and he feels heavier thinking that so many times when you still worked for him, you probably wanted to quit but couldn’t. And that maybe his claims of needing you around to help him helped keep you here, in a place that wasn’t giving you that joy and satisfaction that you deserve.
“___,” he calls out. “I got the notice. How are you feeling?”
“Well, I see that word travels fast,” you giggle, an attempt to avoid a somber conversation. You also don’t know how to explain whatever it is you’re feeling so it’s not something you’re keen on addressing.
“HR was actually the one that informed me and uncle,” he explains. “Losing you is a big deal so they thought to let us know right away. And I only mean that because you’re an integral part of this company. And you… you matter to my family. You matter to me, and I know you matter to him.”
Hoseok gestures towards Jungkook’s direction, prompting you to look away. The man in front of you sighs and apologizes, adding that you’ve come to mean so much to the people he cares for, including his wife.
“You welcomed me to your family, Hoseok,” you respond. “You and A-yeong treated me like one and I always will be. But none of the sadness yet. I’ll still be here for the next month.”
“I’ll take my time in saying goodbye then,” he says, his genuine smile serving as the comfort you badly need. “And I hope it’s not for good.”
“Not to you,” you assure him. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Good,” he says, his eyes softening in understanding and acceptance. “I’ll just meet with Jungkook. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” you say. “And uh, thank you.”
Your smile holds in it a lot of emotions for the man who’s become your friend all these years. And you know that whatever happens with Jungkook, Hoseok will always be a person you’ll treasure.
You walk out while he enters the room and closes the door.
Jungkook’s eyebrows are scrunched as he gives instructions over the phone while also typing on his desktop. Hoseok can sense the stress and tension all over his cousin, and he hopes that especially with this, the younger man finds it in him to talk about what he’s feeling. There’s fear that he’ll keep it all to himself again, and in doing so, he might just push you away even more.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Hoseok asks after the call ends.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Jungkook huffs.
There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok speaks again. “So, you already have a replacement for ___, huh?” He says, having just heard Jungkook’s conversation about Lucas’ work visa requirements over the phone. “Isn’t that too fast?”
“The Arts Center launch is in a couple of weeks. I can’t have delays,” Jungkook explains. “Sending Lucas here will require less time than looking for a new assistant. He’s familiar with the project and he’s used to working for me so he can take over with the preparations. I’ve received father’s approval for his transfer.”
“What about ___, then?”
“What about her?” Jungkook asks bitterly. “She’s resigned. I’ll have her focus on turning everything over and documenting key projects and practices. She has vacation leaves to use up for the last month she’s here.”
“Just like that?” Hoseok questions. “She resigns today and then you’ve gotten everything sorted out for her departure, just like that? As if you can’t wait for her to leave?”
“She wanted this,” Jungkook counters. “You heard what Mr. Ri said. She’s been wanting to do this for years, and I’m just making sure she’s not bothered by what she’s leaving behind. Having Lucas here will assure her that the team will continue to function and that she’s not delaying anything by deciding to leave. She doesn’t have to worry about anything.”
And it’s the truth. Hearing what you went through and that you’d thought of resigning several times before makes Jungkook think that you haven’t been happy here for a long while. He’s unsure if you’d always planned on leaving before the Arts Center launch, or if what happened last Friday prompted you to do this now. But still, it seemed so easy for you to make the decision, as if you can’t wait to leave him, as if being around him hurts you that much, as if you know that whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.
Jungkook spent all of last weekend replaying that night in his mind - from the way you pulled him close to you and to the way his heart broke when you pulled away. He doesn’t know what you want from him. You kissed him as if you wanted him. He felt your desire as your hands danced around his chest, as you moaned against his lips, as you thrusted against him like you wanted more, and he would’ve given it all to you, he would’ve given you everything, but the words he’d never told anyone slipped from his mouth and somehow, that’s what made you create that distance.
Perhaps it’s what made you not want to stay.
But he wouldn’t have known because he didn’t ask. At the thought of you no longer being by his side, he faltered. At the thought of losing the routine you’ve both created and the comfort you’ve been giving him everyday, he caved in. He lost all sense and just wanted to keep you. He’d disregarded every rule, crossed every boundary he created, and thought of nothing else but to be with you. He made the mistake of not thinking about you, the person he wants.
He naively believed that your expression of desire meant that nothing else mattered - you’d be with him regardless. But he realized that maybe he doesn’t know you at all. He would’ve risked everything but maybe you wouldn’t. You make him happy and that’s all he cares about but maybe he’s not enough for you. He’d do anything to be with you everyday but maybe that’s not what you want.
The thought that that moment made you realize that maybe, he’s not what you wanted after all creates another crack in his heart. That cold, stubborn heart of his hasn’t felt much in years but it betrayed him this time. It called out for you and he’s afraid to find out that it still will, after everything.
“Have you spoken to her?” Hoseok pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. “I gave her my recommendation letter, told her about Lucas replacing her, and that she still has leaves to take.”
“I meant about both of you,” Hoseok clarifies. “About what you both feel, about what that means and what happens after that.”
“What is there to talk about?” Jungkook groans. “She left me that night. I come here today with a resignation letter on my desk. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you,” Hoseok says.
“It doesn’t mean she does,” Jungkook counters. “Clearly, her happiness outside of this company is her priority. And it should be. She doesn’t have a reason to stay here anymore.”
“And what if that happiness could include you? Did you even think about that?”
“Then she could’ve said that if she wanted to. It was her decision, it was her call.”
“You think it’s that easy to say that? Then why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you feel and want?”
“I did!” Jungkook almost yells now, thankful for the thick walls of this room. “And she pulled away! She said she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t do this with me. That tells me everything I need to know, Hoseok. Whatever she feels for me isn’t that strong. I was stupid to believe an overheard conversation. I heard that she liked me and I thought, all I had to do was tell her that I felt the same way. But it wasn’t enough. I asked her to stay and she said she couldn’t. I don’t matter to her. Not in the way that she matters to me.”
“Why did she cry, then?” Hoseok asks. “Did you notice that?”
Of course Jungkook did. He’s seen you cry a few times, a sight he never wants to see again, and seeing your puffy eyes earlier made him want to just forget everything and hug you so he could help make the hurt go away. It’s something he’s wanted to do before and there’s a reason why he never did. Today, he knew that doing so would make it harder for him. So all he could do was look away.
“She wouldn’t be that upset if all this didn’t matter to her. If you didn’t matter that much to her,” Hoseok adds.
“This job mattered to her, too. You and I know how she works. Maybe there’s guilt or worry that she’s leaving at this critical time, which is why I’m trying to make the transition easy,” Jungkook reasons. “She’s leaving a lot of things and people behind and that could be hard for anyone. She’s crucial to the team but I don’t want there to be anything else that would hold her back. Not anymore.”
“But all these arrangements… it’s as if it’s so easy to replace her,” Hoseok sighs. “Are you even giving yourself time to just process all of this?”
“And then what? Give myself time to realize again that I can’t do this without her? I already know that I can’t, I can’t replace her, not in any way but I…” Jungkook heaves. “I can’t give in to those feelings and end up asking her to reconsider her decision. She has a life to live outside of this but this is mine. I have a project to launch, a name to uphold…”
A broken heart to live with, he doesn’t say.
“I don’t know what else to do but this,” he adds, his head bowing down as he pinches the corners of his eyes. He’s just trying to deal with losing you in more than one way, and trying to maintain whatever professionalism he has left after everything.
Hoseok sighs as he watches his cousin stop himself from falling apart. It’s true that everything feels so sudden. Perhaps for you, the best decision you could make after what happened last Friday is to leave and he wouldn’t fault you for that, especially after what you gave up to be here. And maybe Jungkook is just trying to deal with that pain of losing you as his assistant and the possibility of more in the way that he knows how - distance, detachment. It’s how the younger man has always chosen to deal with things he can’t control, and as someone who’s seen him try to move on from his own past, it’s hard for Hoseok to stand by and watch Jungkook hurt this way when he knows that you care about him, too.
It wasn’t always obvious, but at one point, Hoseok started to notice things; he just never questioned them. You were always competent. When you were his assistant, you paid attention to every detail and made sure that he was always at his best. But this past year, Hoseok had seen you pay attention to Jungkook in a more meaningful way. He’d seen you care for the younger man, showed him kindness that no one’s bothered to do before. And that’s done so much for him as he learned to open himself up, to allow himself to feel a different kind of vulnerability, to feel like he could be himself again, and that he’ll be accepted for all the scared and flawed parts of him.
All Hoseok can do is at least help his cousin be honest about what he feels and help him not lose you completely. But much as he wants to figure this out with Jungkook, life continues, and right now, there are some executive decisions both men have to make. So he redirects the conversation, and it’s half an hour later when they come up with a policy statement that they send to CEO Jeon as instructed.
That’s at least one other important thing that Jungkook can tick off his list. He’s determined to just focus on all work matters for today, hoping that would keep his mind off of you.
But that’s impossible when you still have a role to play in his life, as you enter his room after Hoseok exits, avoiding the older man’s worried gaze. You glance at Jungkook just once, placing a folder of documents on his desk for his signature.
He’s past the second of a dozen pages when he speaks, his eyes glued to the papers, not wanting to look at your face.
“I intend on telling the team about your resignation during tomorrow’s meeting,” he says. “I’ll release the company-wide announcement on Wednesday, followed by an email to other partners and contacts. The Arts Center launch is happening in a few weeks and we can’t have delays, so I’ll be endorsing Lucas soon after.”
“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, trying to stabilize your voice. “If you need me to draft anything—”
“There’s no need, I will do that.”
“That’s noted, sir.”
You remain standing in front of him, watching him go through each page and feeling like you could burst any moment. Somehow he seems like that man you met almost a year ago - focused yet detached, close but so far away.
“You’re also no longer required to come to my apartment every morning,” he continues. “I’ll only need you to come on Thursday so you could give Lucas your access and brief him about the building and where things are. Mr. Ri could still drive you to work until your last day.”
“That service was extended to me for the purpose of assisting you every morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice sounding firm this time. “That is no longer necessary.”
You see him stop his movements for a second before he resumes and nods in acknowledgment of your statement.
As you watch him sign the last few pages, you allow yourself a brief moment to wish that you’d just left much sooner, during a time when he wasn’t around so you didn’t have to feel this agonizing pain of him slowly slipping away. Everytime you remind yourself that you made this decision, you’re pulled back by the thought that leaving didn’t have to mean that you’d lose him completely.
But with the way he acts now, with how he’s distancing himself from you and everything you shared, you’re starting to think that maybe he’s decided on this, too - that this is goodbye and that there’s nothing for both of you after this. It’s a hard pill to swallow but one you suppose you should - this was your call and you didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with your departure as well. That’s something you can’t fault him for doing.
That leaves you with no choice but to deal with the pain, too. You don’t know exactly how. You’ve never really gone through this before. All your breakups didn’t hurt like this, probably because you knew from the beginning that they would end anyway, that you wouldn’t care more than you planned.
But Jungkook is different. You didn’t expect him to be the one you’d care for, that you’d yearn for, that you’d want with all of you. But you watch on as he slips right through your fingers, and whatever hope you had of finding your way back to him in the future withers away. This is how you lose him, and you’ll try hard to keep only the good memories with you.
He finishes signing the papers then he hands them over to you, his eyes only briefly meeting yours. He turns towards his desktop but he speaks again.
“HR requires me to have an exit interview with you,” he says. “But due to our personal circumstances, I don’t think that’s appropriate. I’ve asked Hoseok to conduct it instead. You may just schedule it with him within the next week. You’ll also be provided with a list of all the things you need to submit for your clearance. Just let me know what you need from me and I’ll work on it right away.”
It takes a while for you to respond, as you notice him slowly look your way.
“Understood, sir,” you manage to say, so softly like a breath, even you could barely hear yourself.
But the words come out, almost emotionless now as you just take in all his instructions. You gave him your letter only a few hours ago and now he’s got everything organized for your departure, almost as if he wants the complication, that is you, dealt with immediately.
You’ve disrupted his routine and messed up a lot of his plans. He’s always said he hates change, and you’ve caused one of the biggest ones he’s ever had to deal with. You don’t blame him for not wanting to do anything with you anymore.
You nod and head out, knowing that you’re slowly losing your place in his life, even as his assistant. He doesn’t call for you the rest of the day, even for coffee. You’re tempted to knock on his door and ask if there’s anything else he needs for you to do before you clock out, but you decide against it, slowly feeling like you’re no longer welcome.
You mindlessly walk out the building and down the street, feeling the weight of everything drag you down. You’d thought that finally doing this would make you feel liberated, like you’d be relieved of your burdens and even of a secret that you no longer have to keep. But as the minutes pass by, everything is just getting heavier and heavier. Your heart doesn’t loosen up, either.
And as you stare at the barely eaten sujebi from your favorite noodle house and the piece of choco pie that you bought from the convenience store that you now have no appetite to eat, you feel yourself falling apart. You don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t this. You hated doubting Jungkook’s sincerity about what he felt but now you’re faced with his seeming apathy. It makes you wonder once more if he really felt anything for you, or if he just mistook his practical need for you as something more.
Maybe you’ll never know. At this point, he’s just your boss who’s running a company and preparing to launch the biggest project of his life. All you can do is respect that and support him the best way you know how. If it’s distance he wants, then it’s what you’ll give. You suppose it’s the most you could do for him after making the decision to walk away.
Sitting in the meeting room the next day with the management support team chatting around you is a little unnerving. You try to engage with them and put on a smile that doesn’t feel real. The nervousness and guilt slowly creep in, especially when Jungkook arrives and orders for the meeting to begin.
“Before we start, I’d just like to make an important announcement,” he says, quieting everyone down as he sounds serious. “Ms. Cho has tendered her resignation and will be leaving the company in a month. I wanted to tell the team immediately so we could all work on the necessary adjustments. Lucas, my assistant during my time in Singapore, will be replacing her. I made this decision with the approval of the CEO to ensure a smooth transition. His first day will be on Thursday.”
In the silence, you look up, afraid of how the team is taking it. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have a mix of sadness and acceptance on their faces. Yohan has his head bowed down. And Do-hyun sits there, silently crying.
“Do you… do you not like us anymore?” She mumbles through her sniffles.
“Of course I do,” you say, your eyes softening. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it?” She asks. “Why… why are you leaving us? Why are you leaving Mr. Jeon?”
“I…” you start, looking at him for approval, and he nods as if to say that you’re free to say whatever you want to say. “I’ve been here for a while. This job is all I know and the years just flew right by. I feel like a new environment and a change of pace would do me good.”
Chin-sun turns to you, her look of understanding giving you the comfort that you need. She told you once that you deserve to live a life outside of work, that you need to find yourself and what makes you happy, and that she knows what that could mean. You’ve always looked up to her and how she’s handled everything in her life with such grace, and seeing her give you that nod of encouragement tells you that she gets it, and that despite the doubt that’s slowly crept in, she’s that hand on your shoulder, saying that you’re doing the right thing.
“Do you have to go this soon?” Do-hyun asks, her voice so unusually soft that it makes you feel like crying, too.
“I had initially planned on resigning after the Arts Center launch,” you say, the words hitting Jungkook as you see the way he clenches his jaw. “But the company I’ll be moving to requested for my start to be in two months. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up on, so I decided to leave early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You had emailed Namjoon last night and inquired if the production officer position is still open. He responded right away to say that it is, and that he’s been hoping for you to officially apply, so you did. He insisted that based on your resume and your mindset and approach to work that he’s picked up from your conversations, the role is meant to be yours. He scheduled an interview in the next two weeks during your forced leave - for formalities’ sake, he told you - and you can start next quarter.
“I’m just… I’m just really sorry that I’m leaving in the midst of all the preparations,” you add, your nails sinking in your skin once more as you try to deal with guilt. “Things just happened so fast and I had to make decisions right away.”
“We’re gonna be okay,” Chin-sun assures you now. “You and Mr. Jeon trained us well. You, especially. We’ve been working together for over four years and I may have been in this longer but I’ve learned so much from you, ___. This breaks my heart more than you know but I’m proud of you, and I’m happy for you. I can at least say on behalf of the team that we don’t want this decision to burden you. You’ve held the fort for everyone for so long, you deserve to pursue whatever makes you happy.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the words getting caught in your throat as you try to keep yourself from breaking down.
Chin-sun isn’t always this sentimental, so you know it means just as much to her that she’s able to say these things to you.
“I agree with her,” Manager Lee says. “It’s gonna be different and definitely hard but the team will manage. You’ve given this company so much, and I know that wherever you’ll go, they’ll be so lucky to have you. Just… just don’t forget about us, okay?”
“Never,” you assure the team this time.
“Remember when I was being stubborn and didn’t want to go to the hospital when I was sick?” Yohan speaks up, looking at you now with glassy eyes. “You took half the day off so you could drag me there and then visited me everyday after work when I was confined for a week. The doctor said things would’ve been worse if I’d gone there even just a day late.”
You remember that incident clearly. It was the month before Jungkook arrived. The entire team was busy preparing everything but you noticed that Yohan looked unwell, and you insisted on taking him to the hospital so he could get checked and you’re glad you did. You can’t imagine how things would’ve turned out if you hadn’t.
“I was trying hard to keep it in because I didn’t want to be a burden,” he continues. “But you noticed, you always do. And I’ll always be thankful. Chin-sun may be my wise auntie but you’re my ever dependable older sister and I’ll miss you so much. No one can calm me down the way you do, and no one will tell me and Do-hyun off when we’re being whiney or ungrateful. I just hope that whatever you do brings you all the peace and happiness you deserve.”
At his words, Do-hyun sobs. Covering her face, she mumbles onto her palms, muffling her words that you can’t understand. She briefly looks up at you, pouting as she catches her breath, and then she cries again. Even when she’s being emotional, her child-like way of showing it is every bit endearing.
You remember the first time you met her, a brilliant fresh graduate with so much passion and energy. She was a little too bubbly for you at the beginning. She was always curious and lacked filter most of the time. But you got to know her genuine heart, one that often sought you, that wanted to get your approval, that hoped you’d return the affection she always gave you. She was like that bratty little sister that you enjoyed looking after, and seeing her be affected this way is affecting you more than you expected. You can’t make out what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure that they’d make you cry either way.
And that’s what you’re trying hard not to do, as you bite your lips to stop them from shaking, hoping you won’t break down in front of them, especially in front of Jungkook.
Chin-sun comforts Do-hyun who’s calming down a bit now. Manager Lee and Yohan wipe their eyes. It’s a little too quiet, and you know they’re waiting for you to say something, too. Wanting to return their honesty, you start, trying to find the words that would capture everything you feel.
“You all know how much of myself I give to this job,” you start, your lips trembling as you try to get it together. “And from the beginning, I thought I would just come to work, do what I have to do, go home, and do it all over again. It’s the corporate world and we’re just trying to survive. You were all supposed to be just colleagues, people I had to just tolerate but that’s clearly not what happened. Without meaning to, you’ve all become such a big part of my life, more than I can ever express.”
You glance at Jungkook, hoping that he knows it includes him, but you see him clench his jaw and look away, and at this point, you don’t expect him to believe anything else you say, no matter how much you mean them.
“I know I’ve never been good at accepting and especially returning your affection,” you continue. “I’ve missed out on a lot of post-work dinners and weekend get-togethers. I’ve just, uh, I’ve just never been good at mixing work with my personal life. But even then, you never took it against me. You keep up with all versions of me, you encourage me when things get hard, and you never fail to let me know that I’m doing a good job. And that’s done so much for me more than you know.”
You take in deep breaths as you feel your tears dance around your eyes, and you blink to let them fall then quickly wipe them away.
“We’ve gone through so much together and I’ll always treasure all those moments and everything we shared,” you manage to say. “Leaving doesn’t change anything. At least, I hope it doesn’t.”
“Not to us,” Chin-sun assures you. “You’ll always be a part of this team.”
You mirror her smile, hoping your gratitude gets across.
The clearing of throat catches everyone’s attention, and you turn to Jungkook, remembering that you’re all gathered today for a meeting, and not some sentimental goodbye that’s turned into a cry-fest. You doubt he’d want to be around for this, so you apologize and say that he can continue on with the agenda.
“It slipped my mind that I have a call with one of the artists that Mr. Saito introduced me to,” Jungkook answers, looking at his phone then turning back to the team. “It’s in 10 minutes. We can resume tomorrow morning. It’s close to lunch anyway so you can all have your break.”
The whole team nods in acknowledgement. Except for you. He doesn’t have any scheduled calls today, as he was adamant on having this meeting done as soon as possible. He would have remembered if that call was that important and if it wasn’t, you know he wouldn’t have rescheduled this because making all the arrangements for your departure seems to be his top priority.
You suspend the thought, knowing that dwelling on how much he’s distancing himself from you will take away from the moment you shared with your team. Right now, they’re who matter. Jungkook had always insisted he wasn’t part of it, and you always disagreed. But with him stepping away, maybe he’s right.
He steps out, and with him no longer in the room, Do-hyun takes the opportunity to hug you. It’s not something you always return but today, it’s everything you need, as her warmth gives you the comfort you’ve been badly craving since last Friday. All you had was your pillow and that didn’t really do much. With Do-hyun wrapping you in her arms, you’re able to breathe, and she holds you tightly as you silently cry, as if she knows just how much it means to you to have a shoulder to cry on this time.
“Yah! Don’t cry,” she says in that mocking tone to tease you when you pull away.
Everyone laughs and you shake your head in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to cry this much.”
“Chin-sun started it,” Yohan says, earning him a nudge and a playful glare.
“I just knew it mattered that you knew that it was okay,” she says, prompting you to look at her. “We may be crying and going on about missing you and things not being the same but… what you leave behind doesn’t make your decision any less valid, or even wrong. Only you would know what doing this could do for you, and there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You mumble your thanks again, feeling a bit of weight off your shoulders with the assurance that the team will be alright without you.
Outside, Jungkook looks on as everyone gathers around you, hugging you and wiping your tears, something he held himself back from doing.
There’s no call to be had. He’d intended for today’s meeting to be about discussing the plans moving forward, the added responsibilities that each member would have as Lucas adjusts, and how they could help in his transition. Jungkook didn’t expect for it to turn out the way it did, with each person expressing their gratitude to you, comforting you, and sharing stories that show just how much you matter to them.
This is who you are - someone loved by the people around her, despite the distance she keeps. There’s just always been this warmth about you that’s reflected in your ability to notice things, in your stubbornness, and in the way that you make every person feel cared for. It’s something he always admired about you. It’s also what he likes the most about you, and for all that you are, all that warmth and comfort that you deserve aren’t things he can give. Not when he’s trying to keep his own distance, not when he’s trying to keep himself together, and not when he’s trying not to hold you back any more than he already did.
In a way, he’s glad that the team was able to express themselves to you. He likes to think that their words at least relieved you of whatever guilt you were feeling about leaving, something he’s also unable to do. They were able to assure you that they understand and only wish for your happiness. On his end, he’s ensuring that you don’t have to worry about all the work you’ll leave behind. It’s his way of telling you that it’s okay.
Jungkook steps away when he hears you start to pack up. He walks back to his room and hears the team’s plans of grabbing lunch at the dining hall then eating it at the floor’s outdoor space. Do-hyun tells you to ask him to join everyone, and Jungkook hates that he’d have to turn the invitation down. He does so by pretending to still be on a call when you peek into his room, and at this point, he’s unable to read your face.
He can’t think that you were hoping he’d join you, as he can’t feed the illusion that you still want him after everything. He’ll just believe that it was relief he saw in your eyes and that just like him, you’re creating distance because that makes it easier for both of you.
But the truth is, it doesn’t, as an hour goes by and he spends it zoning out in the midst of sending emails and coordinating with Lucas about his move. Jungkook catches sight of you from his window, seated with your chair turned around, facing the shelves. He’d seen you do that a few times - in the midst of a busy day, or that very first time after he’d gotten mad at you. He wonders what it’s about now.
Maybe it’s your decision still weighing heavy on you, or that you still have so much to do for turnover. Whatever it is, Jungkook fights the urge to go out there and ask you, to tell you that you could take a break if it’ll help. Or to hug you if that’s what you need.
At this moment, he lets himself wish that the world would just suspend for a while and he could do all that without any consequences. He wishes you’re both in some alternative universe where you’re still you and he’s still him but without the baggage, without the secrets, without the intertwined past. He wishes he could just be with you without any of the burden nor the doubts, and you could just go on and be honest with what you both want, and feel what you feel with no reservations, and that all that would be enough.
There’s so much he wants to do for you but he can’t let himself be weak this time. You made your decision and he won’t hold you back. What he’ll do is try to make things easy for you, although the sullenness in your eyes - that he briefly sees when you turn around to face your desk - tells him that it doesn’t seem like it’s working.
But detachment is all he knows when it comes to things he can’t control. He can’t control you with the decision you made. He can't control how he’s taking it. And even after all that, he still can’t control the way he feels or the way his heart breaks seeing you like this.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
You look up from your desktop to a pair of questioning eyes, and you fumble for your tea and ask why he’s asking.
“Just curious,” Yoongi shrugs. “Jungkook’s been cross-copying Lucas in some of our emails and I don’t recall that ever happening before.”
You glance at your screen, seeing the messages that have the said man now looped in, all just today.
“Uh, yeah. Jungkook’s including him in the communications already,” you answer. “I… I tendered my resignation yesterday, Yoongi. I leave in a month.”
You knew that Yoongi would always be supportive. So many times before, he’d asked you how you imagined your life to be and what you were going to do once you thought your time in the company was over. He’d talked about his own plans, too, like opening up his own architectural firm in Daegu because that was always going to be his home. You knew that when the time came, he’d be proud of you because it would be your decision, and the look on his face right now tells you that he is.
“You finally did it,” he smiles. “How does it feel?”
“A lot of things,” you sigh, not wanting to give too much away. Not here at least. “There’s just a lot to think about. Maybe when I take one of my remaining leaves, it’ll finally sink in.”
“And how’s Jungkook taking it?”
You’re about to answer, trying to formulate in your head how you can explain how Jungkook has been. But it’s that moment when said man opens his door with papers in hand, his eyes flitting from Yoongi to you. You ask him if there’s anything he needs but he shakes his head and says he can handle it before closing the door. You stare at it for a while, hoping he’d come back out and say that he does need you to do something, but he doesn’t.
“I guess not well,” Yoongi points out, prompting you to return your gaze to him.
“He is, actually,” you counter. “He accepted my resignation with no questions asked, gave me a recommendation letter, organized everything for my replacement, told me to take my remaining leaves… he hasn’t given me more workload than I expected. He just wants me to focus on turning things over.”
“And that’s ‘taking it well’ for you?” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow.
“Well, he hates change. The last time that happened and he got shipped to Seoul but couldn’t bring his old assistant with him, he acted out. We both know how that went,” you say. “And now I’m causing another big change. We had a routine going. The Arts Center opens in less than two months. And then I decided to leave. He could be letting out his anger and frustration on me but he isn’t.”
“Hmm,” Yoongi hums.
After knowing you for 10 years, he’s come to realize that you have your ways of coping with things. So does Jungkook.
“I think I know what he’s doing,” he continues, earning him a questioning look from you. “He’s distancing himself. How else does he deal with anything that hurts or terrifies him? He’s losing you, ___. Even just from a professional standpoint, that’s a lot for him. On a personal level, even more.”
You look away, not wanting to think about the implications of Yoongi’s last statement. He picks it up, knowing that it’s probably hard for you to talk about right now.
“You may not agree, but you’re important to him,” he adds. “If you think this is easy for him, I’m telling you now that it isn’t. You know him. He’s… he’s not good at expressing how he feels. He just shuts everyone out. It’s his default. Even if the person he’s pushing away is probably the one he needs the most.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” you sigh.
You relate with Yoongi’s statement though. You pushed Jungkook away when all you wanted was to have him close. You decided to leave the company even though you hoped you could be with him. You may mean a lot to each other but it also doesn’t mean it’s enough.
“Is it really?” He questions.
When you really think about it, it shouldn’t. Jungkook likes you. You like him. For two people who are used to being on their own, finding comfort and strength in each other and then wanting that to last is simple. But how you both got here isn’t. You kept a secret from him that may have tainted his trust in you. He pursued you in a way that made you doubt his sincerity. You’re unsure how both of you could navigate all that, especially given the way you are.
Your silence prompts Yoongi to say that you don’t have to tell him anything, but that he’s there should you need anyone to talk to. He leaves, and suddenly, the silence is too loud.
The rest of the afternoon feels too long, with time ticking by so slowly. You always liked how your desk was separated from everyone else, as it gives you the peace and quiet you need to focus on your tasks. You’re also accessible to the VP, which makes everything easier and more efficient. But now, you hate it. There’s no sound but your thoughts ringing at you that you hear. And there’s no Jungkook calling for you to give you things to do.
Not speaking to him nor seeing him makes your day incomplete. You used to enjoy your shared moments, like when you’d enter his room with his cup of coffee and you’d remind him to take a break. All those times when you’d make him sign documents, with him groaning at something he’s frustrated about and then telling you what you can do after you ask if you can help him with something. Those instances where he’d look through portfolios on your shelf and do small talk with you, and those times you thought he just needed a break or a friendly smile or a hum of encouragement.
It’s only been the second day but there’s none of those now, and you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. You let yourself be selfish for once by resigning. But you feel even more selfish by wishing he didn’t act so unaffected, that he’d still ask for you after what you’re putting him through.
You clock out at 6, initially considering letting Jungkook know but then deciding against it, knowing that his nonchalance will just cause a crack in your heart. The rest of your evening feels lonely even with your variety TV show on, so does your commute to work the next morning that you now have to get used to. It didn’t feel right to still have Mr. Ri drive for you, even though he messaged and insisted that he still could.
It’s Wednesday, and there’s something about the middle of the week that makes you feel uneasy - the week is halfway done; it feels like it flew by but it also can’t end fast enough. There are documents on your desk for review and some emails that you need to get to, but Mrs. Myung calling to say that CEO Jeon wants to see you is what does your head in. You suppose he’d want to speak with you at one point; you just weren’t prepared for it to be today.
The CEO’s office is like a personal museum, with photos and blueprints framed on the walls and miniature replicas of some of the company’s earliest infrastructure being displayed in the large room. The view of the city is stunning from all angles, and you can only imagine how much creativity it inspires. You’re still unsure how he thinks about you, but you bow shyly once he greets you and you take your seat when he asks you to.
“Jungkook said he’ll be announcing your resignation today,” the man says. “It seems that he has everything organized already and ready for your departure.”
“He has, Mr. Jeon,” you confirm. “I feel quite bad that I’m not helping him with the arrangements. He, uh, he seems to have wanted to handle all of it all on his own.”
“Well, he’s pressed for time. He had to make quick decisions with the Arts Center opening in a few weeks.”
“I… I apologize for leaving at such a critical time,” you say, bowing your head in shame once more. “I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You made a decision that was best for you. I guess I was just in denial that you’d do it so soon, or at least before the Center is revealed. You’ve worked hard on that, too. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to let that go as well.”
You look up and see the gentleness in his eyes, the same ones that looked at you the first time you met him - in this room, over 20 years ago. He was a stranger to you, but he was kind. There wasn’t much you remember from that day nor that period, but you’ll always remember the soft way he greeted you and introduced himself.
You look back at the years after that. He didn’t reach out much but you still felt him looking out for you and your mom. When you entered the company as an intern, he had that look of recognition, and then of pride.
Working here all these years, you’ve seen him be the critical, perfectionist, and passionate man that he is. People stopped what they were doing when he entered the room, they listened when he spoke, he commanded fear and respect, but you’ve seen his moments of tenderness and empathy, too. This is a man who commits himself to everything he does, something his son took after him. It’s probably why with his years of experience, he knows that for you, walking away from the project you poured your soul into is just as hard.
“It’s a sad parting, I would say. But I know it will turn out just as beautiful as your son had hoped. He really put his everything into that and I’m glad I got to see it almost completed,” you say, having visited the site not long ago. “Though I’ll no longer be here when the rest of the world sees it, I know it’ll give him that satisfaction and pride that he managed to bring to life all that he envisioned.”
“I don’t know about satisfaction and pride if you’re not around,” Mr. Jeon hums. “You’re leaving a big hole in his life, ___. And I don’t mean that just professionally.”
You turn away, unsure if you’re ready to address your feelings for Jungkook in front of his father.
“Looking back now, I was being selfish to you all these years,” he continues. “You had a hard time when you first started and that all happened under my watch. I encouraged you to apply for that EA position because I knew that Hoseok would choose you by your own merit, and he would treat you well. He would train and mentor you and I selfishly hoped that my family would be redeemed in your eyes. And Jungkook… he… he reminded me of myself when I was younger. And you had the spirit of your mother,” he adds, his eyes softening at the mention of her. “You had her heart and I hoped… I hoped that whatever gentleness you’d show my son would allow him to heal a little. It was unfair of me to give you that responsibility, especially given how he treated you at the beginning. I’m so sorry, ___. I feel like I was holding you back and I never intended that.”
“Please don’t apologize, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your eyes blurring a little with his honesty. “I still made the decision to stay every time. Even when it was hard. I… I wanted to show my gratitude to your family for what you’ve done for us. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
“None of that,” he shakes his head. “It wasn’t just about absolving myself of the guilt for what your mom had to go through because of me, which was bad enough in the first place. But I… I knew it was the only way I could thank her, that I could apologize. If there was a way I could help both of you rebuild your lives, I would.”
“And you did,” you assure him. “We were safe. We made good memories in Busan. We now have a good home back in Daegu. I got to study and build myself and experience all these things. And I… I got to meet your son. And I got to see his heart. And I’ll always keep that with me, regardless of how things turned out.”
“Does this mean that you and him aren’t… uh—”
“It was unprofessional to cross the line, Mr. Jeon,” you bow your head. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
“I’m not angry. I guess I should’ve expected it. I’d accept my wife calling me a matchmaker if only it was true,” he laughs dryly. “Jungkook cares about you. And I know that you care about him. You’ve resigned now. You’re… you’re free.”
“I didn’t decide to leave so I could be with him, sir. I mean, that wasn’t the primary intention,” you try to explain. “I… I always knew I would, but doing this soon is because I’m unsure how to continue with my role given what happened. I hope I’ve clarified that.”
“Is this it, then? Is this goodbye for you and him?”
“I… I still hope I’ll see him one day, perhaps when we’ve forgiven each other, when we’ve come to understand the decisions that we made, and once we’ve come to terms with them,” you say. “I’m unsure when that would be. But I hope I’ll have the chance to congratulate him and to tell him I’m happy for him.”
“Goodbyes aren’t always for good,” Mr. Jeon says. “I’d like to believe that we cross paths with people for a reason, that we lose them for a reason, and that we find them again for a reason.”
“That’s not such a bad thought,” you smile. “I suppose that every person I lost for good was for a reason. If I find my way back to Jungkook… it should be for a good reason, too.”
“Of course. And I also mean that for us,” he smiles back. “Please don’t become a stranger. You mean a lot to our family, ___. How your mother helped me and how you helped our son will not be forgotten. Thank you.”
“Likewise, sir. You and Mrs. Jeon have helped us so much. Even Mr. Ri. I… I owe a lot to him as well.”
“You should already know he has a soft spot for you. That man treats you like family.”
You smile to yourself, thinking of how Mr. Ri has looked out for you all these years. He sacrificed a lot, too, and that feeling of safety that he gave you and your mother changed everything for you, even if it took everything from him. But he never wavered, as he made sure to visit you regularly when you were growing up. You suppose he had to hold back once you started working for the company and especially for Jungkook, given the secret you both kept, but Mr. Ri has been showing that same care to you now that the truth is out.
“Did… did you know about him and my mom?” You wonder.
“I did,” Mr. Jeon nods. “It was hard not to. Byung-hun was always serious and expressionless but his eyes always softened whenever she was around. She’s why he even smiled. But… decisions had to be made. I’ll always be sorry for what could’ve been.”
“It’s a love that lives on, though,” you say. “He’s been such a big help to me these past few days.”
“That’s good. You can always count on him. He’ll do anything for you, you should know that. It’s how he keeps their memories alive.”
It’s a nice thought, as you let the older man’s words settle. Love may not always be returned but the beauty is in how it’s expressed, in that it’s received regardless, and that it’s remembered.
You didn’t expect for the talk with CEO Jeon to be as emotional and uplifting as it was. You suppose that all these years, you both were just trying to make it up to each other, to compensate for something that was given and for something that was taken away. Maybe he needed this closure, too, for him to know that you’ve always forgiven him, and that after everything, you’re grateful for what his family has done for you.
Letting out a sigh of relief that at least he’s not angry at you, you return to your tasks. You organize some documents then enter Jungkook’s room to request his signature, immediately spotting some of those he’d already signed from yesterday.
You avoid his eyes again, and you only hope he doesn’t see the sadness in yours when you hear the conversation he’s currently having.
“Is the apartment okay?” He says on the phone.
It’s Lucas, you assume. He’s scheduled to arrive today and is probably settling down first.
“Yeah, just take your time. But don’t forget to be at my penthouse tomorrow,” Jungkook continues. “Ms. Cho will be there to brief you. I’ll see you at 7:00.”
He puts the phone down and retrieves the folder with all the files you set on his desk while you review the ones he just signed. Moments like this used to be spent on friendly banter or some questions on his end, but there’s none of that now. There’s just the sound of the pen gliding on the sheet and the flipping of pages filling the tense-filled air in the room. He hands you back the folder and you’re forced to look at him to say your thanks.
“Please be at my apartment tomorrow at 7. Mr. Ri can take you there, I’m sure he’ll insist,” Jungkook says.
“Yes. Mr. Jeon,” you reply, your eyes focused on his desk.
“And prepare the conference room for the postponed team meeting. We start in 15 minutes.”
You confirm his instructions and quickly head out. You gather everyone - and receive another hug from Do-hyun that you hadn’t realized you’ve been needing so much - then proceed to the room as instructed.
Emotions are managed this time, with no more tearful goodbyes and sentimental speeches unlike the day before. Jungkook gets straight to the point by laying out the plans for Lucas’ onboarding and the division of tasks for the Arts Center opening. You’re primarily assigned to handle the former, as you’ll be turning over all of your responsibilities to him, including all documents, schedules, and contacts. Your facilitative role for the major project is divided between the rest of the team, and as you add the growing list of deliverables and other things you’re in charge of, you’re reminded just how hard you’ve been working for this, too.
CEO Jeon was right. You’re not just walking away from your job; you’re walking away from something that you’ve started to believe in and be passionate about yourself. In a way, Jungkook gave that to you, and you’ll always be grateful that he let you be a part of it.
The melancholic feeling stays with you for the rest of the day. You find yourself lingering on people and things and moments, as if capturing them so you can keep them in your memory.
You do that, too, during lunchtime with the team as you laugh at the stories and incidents you recall that only all of you know. You do it while replying to the dozens of messages you receive after the announcement, with some of the other assistants calling you and expressing their sadness. You do it as well when you email Jungkook another memo he has asked you to draft. And then again when you peek through the window while he’s busy working on perhaps some other design, the image of him focused being etched in your mind until you sleep that night.
You have to let go, you tell yourself; that was the point of resigning. You’re free, like what CEO Jeon said. While you never likened being in this company to a prison, there’s something liberating about stepping back from what you’ve known for years and realizing that you enjoyed it, too, that it gave you a certain kind of happiness and satisfaction, and a special feeling that only you could have.
Jungkook was someone who gave you all that as well, even if it was all fleeting. But then again, you don’t think anything really is. The things and people and emotions and moments you encounter all stay with you in one way or another. For that instance, you had them and they had you. Perhaps that’s the beauty of it - they may not stay but they will always linger.
You enter the car the next morning with the scent of freshly baked pastry. Your eyes light up when you see the iced coffee, prompting Mr. Ri to let out a soft laugh and say that he picked them up on the way for you.
“Jungkook’s got a packed day so I doubt he’d have time for breakfast and I assumed that meant you, too,” he adds.
“Not really,” you sigh. “He’s keeping me to just turnover duties for my last weeks here. I doubt I’d be that busy. But breakfast is good. I woke up late so I managed to only grab some fruits.”
“I think he just doesn’t want you to be stressed. Saying goodbye is hard enough.”
“I suppose… I guess I just hoped things would slow down a bit. But then again, I’m the one who abruptly resigned,” you say. “No one was afforded time to process things, including me.”
“It will sink in soon enough,” he hums. “Especially once you see how things change.”
“They have,” you whisper, the sullenness in your eyes letting the other man know just how much. “And I have no right to wish they didn’t, at least not this fast.”
“Oh, ___,” Mr. Ri turns to you with a sad smile. You can’t imagine him being the cold and stoic man that CEO Jeon had described, one who only softened when your mother was around. “You do. Standing by our decisions means that we accept whatever the consequences are, not that we can’t wish they were different. I’m pretty sure Jungkook feels that way, too. He’s dealing with you leaving, but it doesn’t mean he wishes you had to. And maybe… deep in your heart, you wished that not staying in the company didn’t have to mean not being with him.”
It’s a thought you’ve had for a long time, but one you don’t want to acknowledge. There’s a lot of things you’re still scared to face, including just how much you want him. You’re afraid to break, to want to take it all back, and to realize just how much you’re losing by letting all this go.
And like the family he’s come to be, Mr. Ri reminds you that this pain you’re feeling is part of the process of finding the happiness you’ve been yearning for.
“Sometimes we have to lose things for something so much better,” he comforts. “‘Better’ could be a person or a state of mind. In your case, I think it’s discovering that kind of strength you didn’t know you had; it’s that freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise felt even if you got together with Jungkook. For as long as you’re in the company, you’ll always feel burdened and that something’s missing at the same time. You always needed this. And I should’ve encouraged you to be braver a long time ago.”
“Then I wouldn’t have met him,” you say immediately, the thought breaking you, even if you tried to convince yourself it was better that you didn’t. “He and I have pasts that intertwine and if we never met then there… there would be nothing of him I’d carry, there’d be no trace of him in me.”
But you did meet. And now there’s Jungkook in you - in your bravery, in your strength, in your silence. He’s in your appreciation for art and design and love for disposable cameras and capturing good memories. You carry him with you, and the thought makes things hurt a little less. Maybe all that is why you got the courage to walk away in the first place. Maybe those could push you to find him again, too.
You’re deep in your head that you don’t realize you’re already at Jungkook’s building until Mr. Ri is calling your name. You exit, and right at the entrance, you see a well-dressed man with a bright yellow helmet on one hand and a scooter on the other, his smile brightening his whole face as he greets you. He’s Lucas, he says, and you’d almost forgotten the purpose of why you’re back here after almost a week.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Cho. Although I wish it were for happier reasons,” he says, his face softening.
“It’s happy enough,” you smile. “You’re living abroad like you said you wanted to, and this is career advancement for you. They’re all good things.”
“I suppose so. Although I didn’t really get to prepare myself much. I’m quite nervous, if I’m being honest.”
You pass over your access cards to him and let him go through the building’s security process. It’s another way you’re letting go of Jungkook, you think, and there’s more of that melancholic feeling, as memories of all your mornings here fly through your mind.
“You’ve been with Mr. Jeon longer than I have, Lucas. You know how he works,” you tell him. “Sure, there are added responsibilities as the Vice President’s EA but you’ll learn them through experience. You have the skills good enough to be his assistant in the first place. And he’s… he’s good at what he does. He’s good to people. Those should make things easier for you.”
“Hmm that’s true,” he replies, as you both head towards the elevator. “He seems a lot calmer than I’m used to. And more poised. And— I don’t know if I can say this but, more considerate, I suppose. He made sure everything was organized for my move. He checked on me when I arrived. He even got me a scooter because my old one was a bit rusty already.”
You smile to yourself. They’re simple things, and it makes you think that maybe Jungkook used to not show much care to his staff. Lucas doesn’t seem to hold resentment of any kind, so you suppose Jungkook just gave or did the bare minimum. If your relationship with him somehow influenced this kinder and perhaps softer version of him, then meeting you wasn’t so bad for him either.
Lucas rambles a little as he talks about being anxious working with all the bosses, and you wish there was a way that you could ease his worries. You understand it. You were in his shoes once, and you hope that your mentorship of him during this turnover period will be enough.
“All that to say that I have large shoes to fill,” he adds. “And I just don’t want to disappoint him.”
“And you won’t,” you assure the younger man as you reach Jungkook’s floor. “You’re gonna be fine and the team is gonna support you. So will he, so you just do what you can and things will fall into place.”
Lucas sighs in relief and smiles. It’s the most you can do for now and you hope at least for today, it’s enough.
You enter Jungkook’s apartment and a feeling of sadness rushes through you. Everything looks the same and it’s much too quiet than you’re used to.
You tell Lucas what you normally do and he says that Jungkook’s doing away with breakfast.
“He knows I fast so we never really had meals in the morning,” Lucas says. “But it’s nice you got to prepare them for him. He was always too busy and didn’t realize he hadn't had anything to eat until past lunch time.”
You nod, realizing that you probably created that routine you both had. Jungkook used to just always go straight to business but at least with you, he was able to slow down a little and enjoy a meal. You’d come to like those moments, you smile to yourself. He felt a little more human to you then.
You go through Jungkook’s usual schedule and give Lucas a list of numbers to call, like his house cleaner and cook. There are other routines you share, and the young man starts to take note, as some of them are new due to Jungkook’s role.
It’s not long after when the man himself shows up, walking into the kitchen donned in a dark blue suit. You reflexively take a step forward, ready to fix his crooked tie, but then you realize that this is one routine you’ve stopped doing for a while, so you put your hand down and bow to him in greeting.
Jungkook just nods at you and then asks Lucas how the move was and if everything’s okay. The young man answers accordingly, with just enough information to not prolong the conversation.
“It’s gonna be a hectic couple of weeks so it’s good you’ve settled in,” Jungkook says. “Have you gone through the building’s security process? Do you have access to my apartment now?”
“Yes, sir. Ms. Cho has briefed me about all of that,” Lucas says.
“Good,” Jungkook nods. “I’ll just grab my things and we can go. We’ll run through yesterday’s meeting and my schedule for the remainder of the week in the car.”
He walks towards his study to get his bag while you and Lucas stay behind.
“Aren’t you gonna fix his tie?” You whisper to the man next to you.
“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Lucas asks, turning to Jungkook and looks intently at his outfit.
“The knot is slightly to the right,” you point out.
Lucas takes a few seconds to answer before he nods in agreement. “I don’t really fix it but I could tell him.”
You’re all in the elevator and with Lucas looking a bit antsy, Jungkook asks him what’s wrong.
“Your… your tie is slightly to the right, sir,” Lucas says.
It prompts Jungkook to face the mirror, adjusting it himself numerous times until he figures it out. Turning around, with his eyes flitting to you, he asks, “is this alright?”
You nod, feeling the distance once again.
Jungkook used to look at you in a way that always seemed to be more during this shared moment, with words and feelings unsaid, and you realize that so did you. It’s such a simple thing - fixing his suit, but it’s seconds where it’s all quiet and it’s just your breaths sharing space, your glances meeting, maybe your hearts beating a little too fast, a little too loud.
But there’s none of that now. There’s just distance and it’ll get farther as time passes by, especially once all three of you make it to the car and you know, next to him is no longer the place you should be. You take the passenger seat, feeling unfamiliar when you hear his voice right behind you.
Jungkook goes on about Lucas’ new role to include preparing his clothes for the week, which means styling him accordingly. It’s a task the younger man says makes him nervous, but Jungkook assures him.
“Just make sure the clothes match and that I don’t look ridiculous. And that, uh, my tie isn’t crooked.”
Lucas chuckles and says he’s up for the challenge before the conversation switches to the meetings today and tomorrow. Jungkook asks you questions and you fill in some other details. You’re not as on top of his schedule as you used to be, and he instructs that for the meetings after the turnover to Lucas, you’ll no longer be required to attend. You have leaves to take, Jungkook reminds you, and given that you’re set to start work elsewhere soon, having some time off would be good.
“All noted, sir,” you say, and despite how you feel, you also agree.
You arrive at the office and Lucas is promptly introduced to the team. He’s received well, as he’s able to match the young ones’ energy and you see the respect he has for the rest, including you. You already know he’s going to do well, and you make a mental note to tell Bitna and Mrs. Myung to look after him as well, the same thing you told Mr. Ri to do.
While Lucas fixes his documents with HR, you decide to bring Jungkook a cup of coffee and some biscuits, unsure if he’s had any breakfast yet. He promptly looks up from his desk when you enter, nodding in acknowledgement when you place them on his desk.
“Lucas is a fast learner and he’s good with people,” Jungkook says, surprising you, as you hadn’t expected him to start a conversation. “He just needs to work on being a leader and holding the team together. You’re… you’re very good at that. I know it’s a short time but I hope it’s something you could teach him.”
It takes a while for you to respond. Even if his tone is not the soft one you’ve gotten used to, his words still hold warmth in them - towards Lucas. And towards you.
“I… I will, sir. And if it means anything, I think he’ll do well. He’s got good people looking out for him, including you.”
You want to return his kind words, but you also want to remind him that despite how you both started, he stood by your side and guided you. And that helped you be even more confident and capable in what you do. You hope it’s something you’re able to tell him, in a more truthful and vulnerable way he deserves, but there’s no place for that now. Yet the way he nods tells you that maybe he knows, and as you hold his gaze for a little longer than usual, you hope you’re also able to say a bit more.
That you miss your mornings together. That days don’t feel the same without his soft laughter. That you’ve almost forgotten how his smile looks like. That there’s so much of him you want to keep even though you shouldn’t. That you hope he wishes, just like you, that you’d find your way back to him someday even if right now, you have to do this.
The knock on the door signals that your shared moment has passed and you’re unsure if any of that reached him. Maybe not, as he turns away and just nods.
Lucas enters, and you remind him of that building tour you said you’d give. He’s been to the office three times but only in the conference hall, so you decide to take him around before that meeting with the design department in an hour. Do-hyun will cover for both of you while you’re away, so Jungkook tells you to advise her that he won’t be taking any calls or visitors in the meantime.
You nod, and Jungkook watches you walk out the door as he keeps himself steady like always, holding himself back from wanting you to stay a little longer, from asking how you’re doing, from taking you in his arms like he’s been wanting to do for days.
It’s hard having to act like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t break his heart seeing the sadness in your eyes with how he’s taking your departure. While that overheard conversation told him that you planned on leaving, he wasn’t ready for you to do it so soon. Perhaps he should’ve expected it - you both kissed and he went ahead and said the words he’d never said before, and that’s what caused you to push him away and decide that you didn’t want anything to do with him despite how you feel.
He doesn’t know if you ever planned on telling him the truth about who you are. He doesn’t know what your plans have always been and what they are now. He doesn’t know what you’re feeling and how you’re dealing with all these goodbyes. He supposes if he’d asked first, maybe things would have turned out differently, and you wouldn’t be leaving this way. Maybe he wouldn’t be hating himself for detaching so quickly and so certainly, as if he isn’t missing everything about you, as if he isn’t wishing that he could just hold you in his arms and have you stay there.
It took everything in him not to fall apart when he saw your resignation letter. You’d been so certain and after what he learned, he didn’t want to hold you back anymore. He hoped you’d at least want to talk about what you felt, or perhaps assure him that leaving the company doesn’t mean leaving him for good. He kissed you and you kissed him back. And he can’t wrap his head around how you could do that and then so easily decide that being with him isn’t what you want.
It’s all too much, and the only thing he knows he could do for you is make the departure less difficult by making sure that you have nothing to worry about what you’re leaving behind. He made the executive decision to get Lucas, and it wasn’t hard getting his father’s approval this time around. Jungkook organized the whole move and all other turnover matters so that you wouldn’t be bothered by them. He recommended that you take your remaining leaves so you’d get some rest before you move on to your next job, wherever that is. He didn’t want you to be burdened by the extra tasks you have to do for him, including going to his apartment every morning.
But disengaging with you, distancing himself… those are for his benefit. And for you, too, as he doesn’t want to linger and then be foolish by asking you to reconsider, or telling you that he still wants you, that he meant everything he said about what he feels, and that he wishes you’d assure him of your sincerity and tell him you want him just as much. Acting unaffected is the only way that he can maintain that sense of control, the one he lost when he decided to be honest with you and give in to his desires.
He knows it’s not ideal but he doesn’t know how else to give you the freedom you deserve while wanting you next to him. A part of him holds onto the hope that you want that, too - to unburden yourself while being with him. He’d seen the sadness in your eyes these past days and he wants to think it’s because of the distance he’s creating, or because you miss him, too. He’s noticed your glances and lingering looks, he’d seen you stop yourself from fixing his tie this morning, and there’s a softness in your voice that’s different from how it usually is.
But much as he has a lot to say, he also doesn’t know how to. He’s afraid that if he tries, you’ll push him away again, maybe further this time that he won’t know how to get you back. He’s afraid that you’ll look at him differently, that you’d think he doesn’t care about what you want, or that you’ll realize that it’s just not going to work. He doesn’t like what’s happening but he doesn’t think he’s ready for what would happen if he does anything else.
So he stays where he is, close enough to see you, but not enough to feel your presence. Every second that he’s without you, he feels himself slipping away. He wants to give in but he knows he can’t, so he decides to do the only thing he knows - pull back, distance himself, disengage.
He tells himself to just focus on the tasks at hand, that there are a lot more things that require his full attention, and it helps somehow. He presides over the meetings with the design team and then with marketing with few distractions. He sees you from his periphery taking minutes just as Lucas does, but Jungkook doesn’t comment on it. He just goes from one meeting to the next, one call to another one, and one email to a dozen more.
The day is almost over before he knows it, as the knock on the door pulls him away from the budget report he’s reviewing. It’s a little disorienting seeing Lucas once it opens. That used to be you - asking if there’s anything else he needs before you head home. And Jungkook would often take a while to answer just to keep you a little longer before letting you go, even if he’s assured that he’ll see you again in the morning - in his kitchen preparing him a meal, the start of a routine that’s become the best part of his day.
But it’s not you standing by his doorway now. And it won’t be you who’ll be in his penthouse in the morning. You won’t be asking if he got to rest well. You won’t be standing close to him as you fix his outfit, your eyes focused on the creases of his top while his eyes are focused on you. You won’t surprise him with fried rice or fancy-looking eggs on toast while you sneak glances at him to see if he enjoyed it, which he always does. You won’t be there to tease or bicker with him, and he won’t see your warm smile whenever he laughs or teases back.
He doesn’t know how he survived the week without all of that. He knows he’ll have to learn how to get through everyday with that big, empty space you’re leaving. And he’s terrified that he’ll get used to it; the last thing he wants is to forget how it felt when you were still around.
“Mr. Jeon?” Lucas calls out again, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. “I’m heading home. What time did you want me to be at your penthouse tomorrow morning?”
It’s silly but Jungkook feels protective of his mornings with you. If he’ll no longer have it, then he’ll just live in the memory by himself. So he tells Lucas to be at his place at 7:30 AM, right before they leave.
“Understood, sir. I’ll see you then.”
Jungkook bids him goodbye and returns to his task, but he’s too distracted by the silence so he decides to go home. He enters the car, feeling the tiredness weigh his body down - not only does he stay up to work, he also wakes up early to do his workout. It’s only been a week but it’s catching up to him, and the deep sigh he releases catches Mr. Ri’s attention.
“You should get proper rest,” the older man advises. “You’re gonna get sick at the rate you’re going.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“I should ask ___ to tell you to slow down. She knows how to make you listen, doesn’t she?”
“That’s not necessary,” Jungkook sighs, even if he knows it’s the truth.
You had a calming way of telling him to take a pause, and he always listened because it’s you.
“Then you better listen to me,” Mr. Ri says, eyeing him from the rearview mirror. “You need to be at your best these next few weeks and you won’t be if you push yourself too hard. You have a team that has your back. It’s all going to work out.”
“That’s exactly what she would say,” Jungkook shakes his head, suddenly hearing your voice in his head.
“I know. And I bet you that she’d say it even more if she sees how you are now. You need to rest, Jungkook. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says in submission, deciding that he’ll just buy food on the way home and then call it a night. But the mention of your name has his mind going to you again. “Did… did she eat breakfast?” Jungkook asks.
“She did, and she liked it,” Mr. Ri responds. “You know, she still would’ve eaten it even if I said that you asked me to get those pastries for her. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“It would have. She’ll know it was from me.”
“And? Just because she’s leaving, it doesn’t mean you have to stop showing her that you care. And it doesn’t mean that she stopped caring, either.”
At Jungkook’s silence, the older man continues.
“Why do you do that? Why hide behind your pain? Why make excuses for what you feel about her? You think it’s easier that way?” he presses. “You think it helps you and her when you act like it doesn’t affect you?”
“She pushed me away, okay? What do you expect me to feel?”
“But she still cares about you, at least acknowledge that.”
“But I want her to want me,” Jungkook raises his voice, surprising himself with the burst of emotion he didn’t expect. “I don’t just want her to care. I… I want her to be with me. But she has a life to live beyond all this, and I don’t think she wants me to be a part of that.”
Mr. Ri turns to Jungkook with sad eyes, unable to say anything else. He doesn’t know what kind of comfort the younger man needs. It starts and ends with you, it seems, and perhaps that’s expected. After Jungkook’s breakup with Chaerin, he kept his heart guarded and didn’t bother to let anyone have a peek. All encounters were shallow, all attempts at getting him to share himself were futile. Until you. And now that he’s shared a little bit of himself, with you turning away from it, he feels exposed and bare, and he has to build his walls back up again.
Mr. Ri gets to witness it this time, and his heart breaks for the younger man, too. Having heard both sides, he knows that Jungkook respects your decision and wants to be with you. Those can coexist. He also knows that you want to be free from the ties that bind you to this family and want to be with him. Those can coexist as well. But he knows, more than anyone, that you’ll both have to make a decision, and you’ll both have to learn to do that.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Jungkook. And I can’t tell her, either,” the older man sighs. “You’ll have to figure things out on your own and decide what you want to do because that’s the only way you’ll get to stand by your choices.”
It’s a piece of advice that Jungkook should follow, even if all he wants is for someone to tell him what to do. But perhaps that’s also hard if he can’t make sense of everything that he feels. And it’s both of you suffering at the end of it.
He stays quiet for the rest of the ride, wanting to just shut out his thoughts even if there are hundreds of them swimming in his mind. When Mr. Ri asks him where he wants to grab his dinner, Jungkook can’t decide and ends up going to a convenience store instead. He sighs to himself as he realizes the memories that’ll come up by being here; he wants to escape thoughts of you, but he still ends up thinking about you whatever he does, as if his mind and body gravitate towards you without realizing it.
He buys instant noodles and some snacks. He munches on choco pie during the ride back to his penthouse and remembers the way you smiled when you ate it that night when he stayed with you. It’s an image he keeps until he falls asleep, and there’s that empty feeling again when he wakes up in the morning.
Lucas arrives that Friday as instructed and they leave for the office right away. They talk about the Arts Center and the schedule for the day, and they arrive at the building at the same time that you do.
It’s a little tense sharing the elevator with you this time, especially as he formally greets you as if he wasn’t torturing himself with the thought of you all night. But you smile and act cordial, choosing to let the silence engulf all three of you and just deal with it.
There are virtual meetings he has to attend, and Jungkook multitasks while reviewing some reports that are on his desk. There are some things he knows he needs to sign, so he calls your phone and asks them where they are.
You walk inside his room with a folder of documents and promotional materials for his approval, setting them on his desk and explaining that Lucas was going to bring them in after he was done speaking with HR.
You watch as Jungkook, with scrunched eyebrows, goes through each sheet of paper. There’s so much tension on his face and his entire body, and you wonder if he’s been resting properly. Perhaps not, as you see the dark circles under his eyes.
“You don’t have to wait for Lucas to give these to me,” Jungkook says. “You still have that responsibility. You’re still my assistant.”
There’s no anger in his voice but you can’t help but feel defensive. He’s instructed you to focus on turning over files and functions, after all.
“Am I?” You find the courage to question him. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what I’m only here for.”
Jungkook is taken aback by your words, not expecting you to say them with a mix of sadness and bitterness. But he answers back, unable to control himself this time.
“And you’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what you want. And what you don’t want,” he says, more bitterly than he intended.
Your face falls, and he hates himself for making you feel like this, so he backtracks.
“I’m just… trying to make things easier for you,” he reasons, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the papers. “There are lots of things to turn over and I prefer that you just focus on them. I need Lucas to know what to do because you always did, and that’s a big loss for the team. It’s not my intention to undermine you or… make you feel like I’m replacing you. I know I won’t be able to,” he says boldly. “You’re leaving and I’m just trying to deal with it the best way I know how.”
You look at him and see the mix of frustration and sadness on his face. This is all on you, and you hate that you don’t know what to do about it. So you accept his words in submission.
“I understand, sir,” you say, almost like a whisper. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
You bow then head out, leaving Jungkook rooted in his seat like always, knowing that a second more and he would’ve called you back, even if he doesn’t know what he’d say, just so he could be around you a few seconds longer.
But he lets you go. Whatever he wants to say won’t make it out anyway.
Jungkook gets through the rest of the day constantly distracted, always half-hoping it’s you when there’s a knock on the door, or glancing at your direction from his seat, expecting you’d be meeting his eyes. But it’s never you on the other side and you don’t look his way, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye and then Hoseok is calling to tell him to go home already.
Jungkook tries, though. He finishes half a bottle of whiskey and then sleeps through mid-morning. He doesn’t really know what to do with the time he has and he hates that he has so much of it.
For the first time, he forces himself not to think about the Arts Center, so he decides to sketch some designs for the various residential projects he has in the pipeline. Some are still in their early stages but that Scandinavian-inspired building that he’s been visiting various properties for is still being conceptualized. He doesn’t want to rush, believing that the right design will come, and he hopes that by going through the photos from his trip with Hoseok and A-yeong to Europe last year, he’ll have that extra nudge or perhaps, a burst of inspiration.
The buildings are intricate and majestic, but it’s the little cafes that catch his attention, the fountains in the gardens, and the faraway shots he took of Hoseok and A-yeong as they laughed and danced about. There’s something captivating about the everyday moments, and when he clicks on the photo of the sky, he’s reminded that all those times, he was thinking of you - that clarity, the stability, the comfort. Jungkook always has a lot of things going on in his head but you’ve become that person who makes him stop and look around, who makes him see the beauty in things, who makes him want them for himself this time.
There are some images that float through his mind for the project - large windows, spacious courtyards, open living spaces, muted palettes, tree-lined streets - but with all the comfort and beauty that those bring, his thoughts still shift to you. He remembers how you looked against the mountains during the team building, how the sun made you glow even more, how you looked at peace by the stream, and all he can think about is the sadness that comes with knowing they’re all just memories - still images in his mind that haunt him of what could’ve been.
Jungkook decides to switch strategies an hour later, the emptiness of his penthouse adding to the emptiness he feels inside. Thinking that a change of scenery is what he needs, he puts on his tracks and hoodie and heads out for a run. There’s no destination in mind. He’ll just jog around town, stop if he feels like it, and then head on out again until the thought of you fades from his mind.
He knows he’s not fooling anyone; he’ll probably still be thinking about you. But at least for those hours where he’s distracted by the sounds of the cars and the people in the streets, there’s less of you in there.
It’s quite sunny out. It’s mid-afternoon and he likes the feel of the sweat in his body, the heat contrasting the occasional burst of wind. He stops by a garden, then a convenience store for a drink, then runs up a trail to get a view of the city. The sun starts to set and Jungkook takes it slow. With his hands in his pockets, he leisurely walks to a nearby neighborhood that he hasn’t been to before.
He appreciates the calmness this time and thinks that maybe spending his weekends like this every once in a while isn’t so bad. But he thinks of other ways he could spend it and with whom. Finding new restaurants to eat at and places to explore with you flash through his mind. So does watching your variety shows with you on the couch or some local film like what you enjoy doing on your own.
Jungkook doesn’t fight against it this time. He realizes that the more he resists it, the angrier he’ll be, and he doesn’t want to feel that anymore. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation. He was mad at himself for waiting too long, for not handling things properly, for not talking to you about it… for not being honest about what he really wanted early on. He’s trying not to be selfish by letting you walk away, but maybe that’s selfish, too, if all he’s focused on is how he deals with it, without considering how it’s also affecting you.
He sighs to himself. He’s feeling so much, and this hasn’t happened in a long time. He wasn’t good at this then, and it seems that he hasn’t learned; he doesn’t know how to express what he feels even now.
The sound of children’s laughter catches his attention, and Jungkook turns to his left and finds himself outside of the neighborhood park. The playground is hidden behind large trees, and as if by some serendipitous occurrence, he walks inside and finds a bench to sit on. It’s where he stays as he watches the last remaining child leave the swing and head home.
Silence envelopes him now. He remembers his childhood - how he disliked playing in the nearby playground because he was always teased for being the shy and quiet kid, how his brother laughed along, and how his father constructed one for him so he could enjoy it for once. His brother never joined him, choosing to stay in the treehouse built for him on the other side of their property, and Jungkook liked it that way.
He would climb up the small rock wall and then slide down the slide. He’d swing himself as high as he could, giggling loudly because of the ticklish feeling in his stomach and no one would hear him. He’d look through the telescope and gaze at the stars in the evening. On some afternoons, he’d sit on the little bench and just draw cars and buildings and houses on his sketch pad, just like he’d seen his father do. Out there, he felt like he could be anyone. He could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid. No one was going to hurt him. Nothing would make him feel unwanted - not the birds, not the butterflies, not the bees that he’d watch from afar.
His old man may have always been busy but he built that playground for him without Jungkook asking him to. They were words that his father couldn’t say, apologies that he couldn’t voice out, a desire for more time that he couldn’t express or maybe even commit to, which is why they remained unspoken.
After the incident at the cabin when Jungkook felt abandoned, he stopped playing. He stopped going outside, afraid of the open air, of the possibility that the rain would come, of his father joining him in a space that used to be one where no one could disappoint him.
Time passed and the apologies were still unspoken. The emotions were kept hidden, the desire left unsaid. But they remained. Jungkook knew because his father kept that playground in its spot despite the renovations done in the estate over the years. He maintained them, too, making sure that he seals them regularly, that he repairs damages, that he paints them once the color has started to fade.
Jungkook knew this because every time he visited their home, he always spent some time there. And he saw that the playground always looked the way it did when he first saw it over 20 years ago. He was there last week, and he remembers that in the midst of his outburst, being there calmed him down.
Despite all the painful memories in between, and even if he’d outgrown it already, the safety was still there. It held memories, it felt like freedom, it held that child-like belief that he could do and be anything and he could be happy.
And as Jungkook watches the sky turn dark, the calmness overtakes him. Any playground elicits that kind of feeling, and he hears the apologies, he feels the emotions, he understands the desire.
He realizes that he’s very much like his father, just as you and Mr. Ri and Hoseok have told him. Because much as the old man is good at many things, expressing how he feels is one thing he struggles with. That’s why he builds things. He builds homes for his wife and a treehouse and playground for his sons.
And like some epiphany, Jungkook realizes that he may not be able to express what he feels, but he may be able to show you. The words may never be enough, even as they remain unsaid, but he can at least give you a space that matters to you, a place just like his playground that you could go to to feel safe, where you could be anyone, where you could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid.
It will be a place where no one can hurt you, not even him, and where you’ll always be wanted - by the characters in your picture books, and the birds and butterflies and bees that you’ll color. You may have outgrown them, but he knows that the memories of your childhood will remind you that there’s a place for you, in his heart especially.
His mind starts to race, with designs and details flashing through his mind. He rushes home and starts working, and he doesn’t leave his study until 3 in the morning. But he’s satisfied, and he spends the next day making calls and other arrangements, ensuring that the plans are set for dissemination to the team.
It’s a monumental task for the time that he has. The Arts Center opening isn’t far from now. He’ll probably earn the ire of everyone involved, including his father, but Jungkook will just have to deal with all that.
Right now, what matters is that he gets to do this to show you how he feels. He doesn’t know when you’ll see it, if you’ll decide to go when it opens in a few weeks, but he hopes that when you do, you’ll know that you made him feel something that he hasn’t in a long time, and he hopes that if he no longer gives you that feeling of comfort and safety that he’s been giving, then there’s a place that he built so you’d feel all those again.
You sit on your desk that Monday morning and try to act as if all your contrasting emotions aren’t weighing heavily on you.
Being with your friends over the weekend helped, as you took the train to meet them this time and told them everything that’s happened. You apologized for not telling them right away, but they knew that it was important for you to feel everything on your own first and try to figure it out. You said you really hadn’t - deciding to leave seemed so simple but the feelings and the truth complicated them, and now you’re left with a broken heart and the belief that Jungkook won’t forgive you, that he won’t want you anymore, that he'll just let you walk away without any closure.
Soomin and Jimin just held you and listened. They knew from the start it would be difficult. Your past wasn’t something you talked about so easily, and it took you years to even tell them your story, how you ended up in Busan and why you had to return to Daegu because it was already safe for you to go back home. There was no judgment, only support, even when you decided to enter the company and work for the people that you felt you owed your life to.
Their resentment towards Jungkook stemmed from how he treated you at the beginning; they knew that yours was the same. But they never questioned your sincerity when it came to how you felt - you’re never like this, they said. It takes a lot for you to let someone in and ties to his family isn’t enough for that. If anything, that’s what told them it was real - you would’ve tried hard to control the feelings but you still gave in, and for you to think he was worth that even for the briefest moment means he probably was.
Their perspective affirmed you in a way. This wasn’t just some silly crush on your boss, but this also wasn’t something you could just easily forget or get over. Your happiness always comes first, and it may look like a life with him in it, but it doesn’t mean he gets to be part of it right now. It’s also possible it’s one without him, and if it is, then you’re just going to have to learn to accept that.
You sigh to yourself. You’re in no better place than you were last week, but at least you have less days left in being here. But then again, that also just means the closer you are to really saying goodbye.
You go through your checklist of things to turn over and do before you leave, and while you’re halfway through, putting together event and project portfolios and documenting best practices still takes a lot of time.
You’re about to begin your first task of the day when you hear rushed footsteps. Lucas scurries over to your side to leave his things then grabs some folders.
“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask the visibly stressed man next to you.
“Uh, yeah,” he responds. “Mr. Jeon called for a meeting about the Arts Center and there are changes. He wants to add something.”
“At this stage?” You ask worriedly.
“Yeah. It seems like it’s quite a bit of work. I’m… I’m freaking out because this is a really big project and —I”
“Won’t disappoint him, I’m sure of it,” you try to comfort him. “You’ll be fine, Lucas. Just take a breath and take it one step at a time. I’ll be right here.”
You smile at him warmly, hoping that the bit of encouragement would help. The opening is a few weeks from now. At this point, focus should just be on finishing touches, finalizing government certifications, and promotion, but with how Lucas seems a bit rattled, the changes might indeed be a bit overwhelming.
He excuses himself to prepare the conference room and get the team then leaves, and as you’re about to follow him, Jungkook exits his office then stands by the hallway.
“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, prompting you to stay in your place. “There is no need for you to attend the meetings about the Arts Center.”
You’re taken aback by his statement but you recover.
“But… it’s opening in a few weeks, sir. There’s lots to do, and Lucas just said there are changes,” you counter. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I would.”
“I know that,” he says. “And I’m saying that there’s no need this time. The team can manage. You’ve taught them well.”
“But—”
“You’ve tendered your resignation, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you, his tone a little softer than it’s been recently. “Your remaining days here are meant for turnover and mentoring Lucas in his general functions, and not to take on added or continuing responsibilities.”
He may have a point, but it doesn’t take away from your sadness over no longer knowing how the preparations are going. You’ve become invested in the Arts Center this past year, too, and while you knew you had to let that go as well, it doesn’t mean it’s easy.
“Understood, sir,” you concede, bowing your head down in submission. “I’ll continue with my reports, then.”
He just nods, and you don’t miss the tinge of apology in his eyes. He leaves, and you’re left alone again; you think that’s how you’ve been feeling all this time.
You get on with your task, and it’s not long after when Hoseok enters, his bright smile only doing little to raise your spirits.
“Hey, ___,” he greets. “How are you holding up?”
“Just fine,” you try to smile. “Are you looking for Jungkook? He’s not here right now. He’s meeting the team about the Arts Center and if you’re wondering why I’m not there, it’s because he didn’t want me to be. First he replaces me, and then he excludes me and I just feel so… I…”
“Seems like you’re less than fine,” Hoseok says sullenly. “I’m so sorry, ___. I know this has been hard for you. For both of you.”
You know it is. But you suppose that you and Jungkook deal with difficulties differently.
“You… you understand why I had to do this, right?” You ask.
“I do,” he affirms, his eyes softening even further. “And so does Jungkook. And that’s the hard part. He doesn’t want you to go but he knows you have to do this for yourself. I guess… Your decisiveness hurt him. And with what I’m seeing now, I guess his acceptance hurt you, too.”
“I… I’m such a mess. Maybe I deserve all this,” you sigh. “How could I kiss him, push him away, leave him, want him, but can’t bring myself to be with him?”
“Because you’re human and could want things that you’re afraid of? Because it’s possible to want to find yourself while also being next to someone else yet still think it’s not enough?” Hoseok says. “It’s normal to feel all this, ___. But figuring things out also takes time. Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? Not knowing what to do now is understandable.”
“I… I only have a few weeks left here,” you say softly. “Maybe this is how he wants this all to end.”
“What about you? Is this how you want it to end?”
“I don’t know, but maybe it’s easier,” you try to convince yourself. “It’s easier to walk away when I know I’m not wanted. Maybe that’s what I made him feel, and I can’t blame him if that’s what he wants me to feel in return.”
“Oh, ___,” Hoseok shakes his head, knowing it’s not the truth. “You and Jungkook just need to talk. Then you’d know you want the same things.”
“Maybe… but we’re not good at that. And it doesn’t mean we want the same things at the same time,” you reason.
“So it’s about timing, then?”
“I guess. But we’re not good at that either,” you laugh dryly at the absurdity of it. “Look, even without all this, he already has a lot of things in his mind. The biggest project of his life is about to be unveiled soon and I… I have a life to live after this. I’m doing what I should’ve done years ago and the least I could do for myself is stand by the decision I made. I know I’d regret it if I stayed. I don’t want to regret the way I walked away.”
It’s a thought you’re slowly coming to, as you look back at how the week has been. You’ve been receiving nothing but praise and encouragement from your colleagues. You’ve been getting emails from various companies that want to recruit you after you put your resume through an online job site. There are so many possibilities now that you’ve put one foot out the door, and while you know of the possibilities you’re also leaving behind, you know deep down that you would’ve regretted it if you stayed, and you don’t want to tie that decision to Jungkook and end up resenting him for it.
The only thing that’s been keeping you down is what that decision is doing to you and Jungkook. It’s one you hope you’re able to fix, or at least mend enough that you’ll only have the good memories with you, and that so would he.
“I’m just really sorry,” Hoseok says, knowing that much as he’d like to help you and his cousin sort things out, it’s difficult when neither of you are unable to sort out your own feelings. “But I’m not just here to talk about that. I… I wanted to give you this.”
Hoseok hands you a sealed envelope and you look at him curiously.
“I know Jungkook gave you his recommendation letter, but I thought another one won’t hurt,” he smiles, letting you feel the warmth of it.
You know that companies usually just call for references, but a letter like this - especially from a well-known corporation’s top executive - gives you an advantage that others don’t have. You suppose that when you received one from Jungkook, it was a show of support. You have no doubt that with Hoseok, it’s him telling you that he’ll always have your back, wherever you may be.
“Oh, Hoseok,” you say, feeling all the emotions come at once.
It’s insane to think that almost a year ago, you were in this same spot with him encouraging and assuring you that he’ll always be around. Back then, you were anxious about being led by someone new who you knew was nothing like the man you admired. And now you’re here again, and Hoseok is giving you that same comfort that he always has, and the thought that you won’t even be in the same building as him is causing a crack in your heart. You hope one day, you’ll be able to fully express just how much his kindness has given you hope and so much to look forward to.
“Thank you,” you smile through your glassy eyes. “You… you’ve taught me so much. I hope you know that much of the confidence I have now is because of you. I’m terrified of this new journey but I’m confident that I’ll do well. You believed in me first and I’ll never forget that.”
“Being a good leader is something I learned to become because of you, ___. And because of the team. I admire you for so many things, and I’m pretty sure that wherever you choose to go, the company will be so lucky to have you.”
“I hope so,” you remark, knowing that’s another thing you have to deal with. “I… I have a few options. A few companies have reached out but there’s a publishing house that I’m leaning towards. I met the editor some time ago and that encounter just stuck with me and I feel like that kind of environment would suit me.”
“That’s great to know,” he says excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear about it. A-yeong and I will take you out to dinner once things have settled down, okay?”
“That would be great. I can’t wait for that, too.”
Hoseok bids you goodbye, leaving you alone with your thoughts for the next two hours. Whatever changes are happening with the Arts Center must be big, as it’s taking the team this long to iron things out.
It’s close to lunch time when the meeting ends. Jungkook walks in while on a call, while Lucas sits next to you looking a little stressed.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
“Yeah. There are just last minute changes but Mr. Jeon’s on top of it,” Lucas says. “He just wants us to make sure we’re on top of the other things and I’m honestly still familiarizing myself with the details of the Arts Center. I’m just nervous I’m gonna miss something.”
“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” you assure him. “I know you were just thrust into this at such a critical time where you don’t have much leeway to adjust and that’s on me and I’m sorry. But that’s also why I’m gonna make sure that I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“Thanks, I need that,” Lucas sighs. “I can’t help but think that a year ago, I was almost supposed to be here. I mean, we can talk about it now. Mr. Jeon said he planned on taking me with him because he doesn’t want a new assistant that he has to get used to, you know? I always knew he hated change and I was the one thing that was familiar but it didn’t work out. Even I knew it wasn’t gonna happen - CEO Jeon approves these appointments and the EA of the VP needs to be familiar with the company culture and process and I wasn’t. I wasn’t really upset but I let myself think of living in Seoul for a short while and it seemed exciting. But things happen for a reason, and I think if I had to adjust then while helping Mr. Jeon with this project, I probably would’ve caved in and quit.”
Lucas turns to you with a smile. “What I mean to say is that, I admire you so much for being able to manage all this. And I know I have incredibly big shoes to fill and I think I’m more terrified about that, but I’m really thankful that you’re there to guide me, ___. Whatever tip and strategy and cheat sheet you can provide will be much appreciated.”
“Of course,” you assure him. “I’ve got spreadsheets and checklists and profiles and guidelines to turn over to you. And I’m always a call away, okay?”
He nods in gratitude, and you tell him that you both have time to sort through all those and that you’ll be finished in time for your last day. You agree on having lunch together so you could talk about the Board members and the other executives, and he says he has to see Jungkook first to get his signatures for some documents.
“Oh, can you, uh, can you give this to him, too?” You ask, passing him your leave request. It was during your time alone when you decided when to take them, knowing that you’re gonna slowly have to get used to being away from this place as well.
Lucas takes it then returns shortly after with your signed form. There’s relief in knowing you get to organize your life somehow. There are interviews to attend and a lot of your things to fix. There are feelings to make sense of, too.
And as you and Lucas talk about his move and the worry and excitement he feels, you think that you’ve got to stop thinking of goodbyes. There’s a life for you out there, and if by some way you find Jungkook in there, too, then at least you’d know you chose him, and that if he’d forgiven you then, then you’re assured that he’s chosen you, too.
You spend the entirety of Tuesday orienting Lucas about your spreadsheets and other files, and you both come up with a system that suits his style of work. Jungkook was out the whole day, and though you suppress the feeling of missing him, it’s one that haunts you until you lay in your bed that night.
You take the rest of the week off. You spend Wednesday cleaning your apartment and then having dinner with the elderly couple next door who amuse you with their love story and memories of their youth.
You meet Namjoon on Thursday for that official interview he’s been waiting for. You can’t help but envision yourself in the office with the dynamism of the teams and the laid-back feel of the entire space. You’d commit yourself right then and there if it didn’t make you look that desperate, but it’s Namjoon who encourages you to go to the other interviews you have lined up.
It’s a risk, he says; he might lose you if another more appealing company states their case. But he wants you to choose them without regrets; he wants you to choose them because you’ve seen what’s out there and decided that they’re who you want and who you see yourself being happy in. You don’t miss his slightly nervous face when you agree, but you suppose that if you’re going to do this now, might as well do it right.
You go to two other interviews that Friday, and while trying out events management was always in the back of your mind, it’s nice to see just how the job and the tasks excite you.
It’s the first time you’re feeling like you actually have options. Back then, even if there were other opportunities, you chose working for the Jeons because of a debt you felt you had to pay. You limited your own choices, but now, you feel what it’s like to take control of your own life, and it’s liberating to not have any baggage with you this time around.
Jimin and Soomin pay you a visit that weekend. They drive you around, thinking that the beauty of spring would inspire you even more. It’s fitting, they say, as you start a new phase in your life while the flowers bloom and greet you. But as you pass by a park and see the colors of the sky and buy some convenience store snacks on the way home, you can’t help but think of Jungkook.
Missing him feels a little odd. You didn’t know what it felt like until his trip at the end of last year, but you always knew he was gonna come back. This time, you’re unsure of when you’ll see him again. You spent time with him in a work environment, so being away from him and doing everyday things shouldn’t even affect you this much. But you suppose it’s the idea of what could have been that you miss, even if you don’t really know what that’s like.
You spend Monday and Tuesday the next week the same way. There’s just one executive meeting each day that you attend to assess how Lucas manages it, but other than that, you barely see Jungkook in the office. He stays in his room all morning then heads out in the afternoon, and you leave before he could even make it back. It reminds you that you truly left him at a critical time. You don’t know if he’s eating well, if he’s getting proper rest, if he’s tending a bruised knuckle or dealing with a headache. You don’t know if the stress is getting to him, if the anxiety is slowly building up, or if it’s just excitement he feels and that he can’t wait for everything to come together.
You hope for his sake, it’s the latter. You want nothing more than to assure him that things will turn out the way he wants, that the intended audience will love the Arts Center, and that he’s already achieved so much with just this. You hope he’s proud of himself the way you are, and that he knows that if there’s anything he leaves you with, it’s your own pride that you got to be part of something beautiful, and it’s that search for connection and intimacy and meaning that got you yearning for those things, too.
You take the rest of the week off again. You run errands one day, go to an interview the next, and then walk around town the day after. It feels like you’re back to that state of being alone but not feeling lonely; there’s just that added sense of freedom this time.
You’re not stressed about work. Time isn’t flying too fast. You don’t feel like you’re rushing, going from one task to another for the sake of it. You have space to think and feel. Even at such a short period of time, you’re learning what things excite you and what you want to explore. And that’s liberating, now that you’re able to pull yourself out of the routine that contained you for years, one that made you believe it was all you had and all you deserved. You think that this isn't so bad, and the constant sadness you feel slowly fades away as the days pass.
But then you return to work on Monday - your final week - and the illusion breaks.
Lucas has to meet with the marketing department, so he asks you to prepare Jungkook’s coffee in the morning. You feel quite sentimental doing it, as you know that there probably won’t be a next time.
You knock on the door, and when he asks you to come in, you suddenly feel anxious. You place the cup on his desk, making sure you put the biscuits like you always do.
Jungkook senses when you step back, lingering like you’ve been doing the few times you’ve done it. You used to do it because you expected he’d have something to ask you whenever you entered his room. But recently, he feels it’s you just waiting - for him to say something, perhaps, or for you to find the courage to speak up.
But you never do. And he never says what he really wants to.
“It’s your last week, Ms. Cho,” he states, focusing on his iPad screen so as not to torture himself with the sight of you. “How’s your clearance going?”
“Uh, it is, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Finance and HR have cleared me. IT and security will clear me on my last day. And I’ll submit to you my final deliverables on Wednesday. You can sign off my form then.”
He nods, and you torture yourself by standing by even if he doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. You’re about to excuse himself when he speaks again.
“Please free up your Friday evening. We’ll have a team send-off dinner for you.”
“I, uh. Understood, sir. Thank you.”
He nods once more, and it’s your signal to leave. He’s never felt so far away, but you suppose it’s the kind of distance you need.
You walk back to your seat, the reality of your last week hitting you, especially when you find Do-hyun and Yohan by your desk, looking somber as they reach out for a hug. You return it, with Do-hyun pointing it out, and she frowns when you say that you’ll be without it for a long time.
“Is everything alright?” You ask them.
“Yes,” they respond in unison.
“We just want to spend as much time with you as we can,” Yohan states. “I know we’ve all been busy but… it’s your last week. So let’s have lunch today, and any other day when you’re free. Please?”
“Of course,” you say. “Food hall today?”
They nod excitedly, and you spend your lunch time at the outdoor space, laughing about, with Lucas slowly but surely finding his place within the team.
That afternoon, Yoongi drops by and says he has lots of things going on because of the changes Jungkook is making, but he’ll meet you when you want to. He reminds you that he’s there when you need him; he’ll turn down the other man if it comes down to it. But he’ll drop by everyday until your last day, he says; he doesn’t want to feel like he didn't see you enough.
You assure him that he’s the one person you’d definitely meet up with outside of work, and so there’s no limit when it comes to him.
On Tuesday, you have lunch with some people from the marketing department whom you’ve gotten close to these past months, and on Wednesday, Bitna and the other assistants take you out to dinner.
CEO Jeon and Hoseok take you out to lunch on Thursday, stating that they wanted to check in and ask what your plans are. They assure you that they’re there should you need support in any way; the company is likewise always going to have a place for you. And with the sincerity in their eyes and their hope of you finding your place and your happiness, you know they mean well. So you take that time to ask for advice, too.
It ends in laughter, as you recall your early days at the company and the mishaps with Hoseok. You talk about some of the issues you’ve been privy to and some details about your life that they missed. Talking with them feels comfortable now that there’s an acknowledgment of your ties to their family. You can tell that despite of and after everything, CEO Jeon truly cares for you and your mother, and that he’ll be eternally sorry yet grateful to both of you.
You’re thankful that they don’t mention Jungkook. You wouldn’t know how to react if they did, especially since you’ve barely seen him all week. Missing him has become natural that you’ve just accepted it, including the fact that you can’t do anything about it. Maybe you’ll always be too scared to let him know, too.
It’s Friday before you know it. You manage to get everything done on time, and Jungkook calls you to his office that morning to return your signed clearance form. You hate how you’re both back to this tense dynamic whenever you enter his room - lingering looks, clenched jaws, deafening silence… and words you want to say and hear but know you never would. You’re both not built for that, you think; there’s always so much to feel but not enough courage to face them.
This room holds so many memories - when he got mad, when you stood up to him, when he said he needed your help, when he kissed you and you kissed him back… when you pushed him away.
But this isn’t where you say goodbye. There’s still that team dinner tonight and you hope you get to leave him with a proper farewell and a sincere expression of thanks for all that he’s taught you. You want to wish him good luck on the Arts Center opening. You want to tell him that you believe he’ll keep doing great things, you want to remind him to take proper rest, to take his breaks seriously, and to enjoy all that’s ahead of him.
So you settle for a smile, as genuine as you can make it, before heading out and closing the door behind you.
You return to your desk and go over some other things with Lucas that he needs clarifications on. You both spend lunch with the team and then resume your final turnover.
It’s shortly after 3 PM when Jungkook comes out of his room with his bag in hand, and he instructs Lucas to get some blueprints from Chin-sun before they both leave to go to the Arts Center for a visit. The man next to you gets up and tells you he’ll see you at dinner, leaving you and Jungkook alone this time.
It’s that lingering look again and he stays rooted in his spot, his eyes getting more distant as the seconds pass.
“I wish you well, ___,” he says, the use of your name with words that seem like goodbye causing a crack in your heart. “Good luck. And thank you.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves right after, and you’re left with your heart in your hands, one that keeps calling his name. You think it will continue to do that after all this.
You spend the rest of the afternoon packing your things and entertaining all those who drop by to say goodbye. Yoongi messages to say he’s out on a project site but that he’ll see you soon, and it’s something you look forward to after things have settled down.
You find yourself in a private room at a nice restaurant with the team not long after. You can order anything, you’re told, and Do-hyun and Yohan don’t hesitate on choosing the dishes that they wouldn’t have been able to eat if it wasn’t for their boss paying for this meal.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Lucas and Mr. Jeon?” You ask, looking around and feeling incomplete.
“This dinner is for you, and you’re here,” Do-hyun points out. “But I guess we can wait.”
You settle for some appetizers and get to talking. They’re less sentimental than they were a few weeks ago. They say they’ve made peace with everything and are just happy that you’re able to take a break and have time for yourself before going back to the grind. It’s all talk and laughter, and when Lucas arrives, everybody cheers because then, you can all have your food served.
“Where’s Mr. Jeon?” Do-hyun asks before you do.
“He’s at the Arts Center dealing with the laborers and the design team,” Lucas says regrettably. “Seems like there’s too much work and he can’t make it to dinner. I doubt he even eats at this point. He’s there every afternoon and doesn’t leave until late at night.”
“Is everything alright?” You ask, a mix of worry and sadness at how much he’s pushing himself, and that he didn’t even have the heart to see you one last time.
Perhaps that short exchange earlier was his final goodbye, you think. And now you wouldn’t even be able to say yours.
“Yeah, you know how he is when he focuses on something,” Lucas sighs. “He just locks in and doesn’t care about anything else. He’s always been like that and I guess that hasn’t changed. But he did say he wants us to enjoy tonight, so order anything you want and he’ll take care of it.”
You mask the disappointment by laughing through Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about the best way to attack the menu, but you can’t help the way your eyes flit to the door every time it opens, hoping Jungkook would walk through it. But it’s never him.
Mr. Ri walks in right as the main dishes are served, and you look at him in question. He returns your dejected look with a shake of his head, as if he knows what you're thinking.
You suppose that this is how Jungkook wanted to end things - by not showing up, by leaving the wound uncovered. You didn’t realize it would hurt like this.
Maybe you deserve it. Maybe you don’t. But with the empty seat on the table reminding you of the man who chose to not give you a final goodbye because you’d done yours so certainly, you’re starting to think that it doesn’t really matter. He gets to choose how he deals with this, like he said. And you have no choice but to do the same.
You try your hardest to keep up with the team’s energy. They’re at least no longer crying, although you wish they were so you’d have a reason to cry yourself, because that’s what you’re trying hard not to do. It’s probably because of the sadness at knowing that you won’t experience this with them anymore; you won’t share the laughter and the stories that you used to. Everything is sinking in already, and it’s reality hitting you that you’re really going to start a new journey soon, and that you had to let go of someone incredibly important for that to happen.
The Jungkook-shaped hole in your life will probably get bigger as the days pass, but that’s just another thing missing that you’ll have to find substitutes for, just like you do for everything else.
You manage to get through dinner with dry eyes, even when you’re presented with farewell gifts. Lucas hands you a large box - a present from the VP’s Office, he says, and you smile in awe when you see a coffee pod maker that’s a similar version to the one you have at the pantry.
“You won’t be going around making other people’s coffee anymore,” Manager Lee says. “So this is for your home. You’ll be on-the-go and busy but at least you’ll have this. It’s also so you’ll always remember us.”
“It’s also how I started,” you point out, recalling your internship days at the company. “But this is great. Please uh, please thank Mr. Jeon for me.”
“And this is from us,” Do-hyun smiles, handing you another box. “Like, this is from our own pockets. And we thought of every single thing in there so don’t forget about us. Ever.”
You open it and find a lot of the things that they know you can’t live without - a tumbler, a mug, notebooks, colored pens and highlighters, post-its, little jars of snacks and candies. There are also self-care items like scented candles and essential oils. In a little bag, there are two disposable cameras and vouchers to your local theater.
And underneath all of those is a complete photo of your team, the one taken during your team building not long ago. Everyone looks refreshed and carefree. Including you. And then there’s Jungkook next to you, hands in his pockets and sporting what you know is a genuine smile. It’s a good reminder of your time together, and despite everything, you’re glad you have something to always keep close to you.
You return their hugs, each one carrying so much care and warmth that you missed out on because you were never one to accept them, to ask for them. You finally say goodbye and make a promise that you’ll catch up with them one of these days, one you know you’ll keep.
You all walk out. Mr. Ri helps you with your things then leads you towards the car.
“Last one for old time’s sake,” he smiles at you. “And it’s late. Let me drive you home.”
You don’t resist, knowing that as someone who’s looked after you for so many years, never faltering in his commitment to your mother or you, you’re truly going to miss him.
Sitting on the passenger seat, you look out the window and try to amuse yourself with the scenes outside. There are cars passing by and people trying to get home, probably grateful that another week is over. You wonder how many of them are nursing broken hearts, or are running away from something, or are hoping someone they pushed away comes back.
The tears are falling before you know it, and as you try to hold in your sniffles, you see Mr. Ri from your periphery glance at you before turning on the radio, gradually making the music louder so as to drown out your sounds. That continues for a while until the streets start to look familiar. Somehow, you dread going home - being alone at a time like this feels a little too much, but maybe you deserve that, too.
You arrive at your apartment, and Mr. Ri helps you in bringing all your stuff inside. He stays by the door and his soft eyes prompt you to speak.
“I thought he’d come,” you whisper. “I thought I’d see him one last time. He… he couldn’t even say goodbye.”
“You know it’s not always easy for people to do that,” he says. “Letting you go was hard enough. What if he says something that would push you even farther away?”
“I can’t be any farther than I am right now,” you sigh. “But we did this to each other. I didn’t want to stay and he… just let me walk away. I hurt him but everything else after hurt me, too. And I… I wish it didn’t. I—”
You’re unable to speak as you cry once more, all the conflicting emotions suffocating you from within. And all Mr. Ri can do is wipe your tears with his handkerchief and hope that could stop them somehow.
“This hurts me,” he utters the words so softly and so heavy with emotion. “It’s like watching my daughter get her heart broken.”
It’s what makes you smile, and you take the piece of cloth from him and dry your eyes.
“I could’ve been,” you say, knowing that he wanted a family at one point.
“That’s true. But most times I think that I would’ve been too burdened by what I’ve done that I wouldn’t have been able to love your mother the way she deserves,” he reasons. “And I’ll always think that I let her go so that she could find someone like Min-woo who’d love her without reservations, who’d be able to give her a life that she’d always dreamed to have and to give you.”
Mr. Ri recalls his own decisions and the heartbreaks that followed right after. They conflicted him, too, but in life, knowing what you want doesn’t always mean you get to express it the way you want to. Sometimes doing it makes it harder for everyone involved, and that’s what he thinks is what’s happening with you and Jungkook, too.
“I think it’s what Jungkook has learned,” he continues. “He has to let you go so you could find whatever happiness it is that you couldn’t find where you are. And as for you, you have to know that letting someone go right now doesn’t mean you can’t ever have them again. You just have to stop thinking you don’t deserve to want it.”
You take his words to heart as you bid him goodbye, and they stay in your head as you force yourself to sleep later that night.
You don’t know what kind of happiness you’re searching for. You don’t even know what happiness could truly be like with Jungkook, and the thought that maybe you’ll never know starts to scare you. It’s one you think you’d like to one day experience. But how could you when you pushed him away? Is it even something you could still want, given what you’ve done? Is it something he’d want to know as well? In the midst of the mess you created, could it still happen?
You’re reminded of what CEO Jeon had said not long ago, and you try to comfort yourself with it. You crossed paths with Jungkook for a reason. You’ve started to believe that you’re losing him for a reason. You just have to trust that if it’s meant to be, you’ll find him again for a reason as well.
You just hope that when you do, he’ll take you back again, ask you to stay, and you’ll be able to tell him with your whole heart that you will. And that it’s something you won’t ever regret.
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symptom of your touch.
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given.
But you… You were the only exception.
Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.
warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.
author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!
word count. 7k+
--
It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night.
But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.
“Where is he?”
Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”
You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand.
To Aegon
— where are you????
You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”
You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”
You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”
“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator.
After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”
You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That boy… I swear…”
“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.
“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .
“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.
From Aegon
— i’ll be back soon 😘
— just start without me
You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever.
“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family.
Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”
Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.
“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”
The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”
Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”
Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”
You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach.
You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.
You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.
Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.
You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”
“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”
The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare.
You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with.
Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.
When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.
His first year away from home was good to him.
“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.
He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”
An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”
Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”
He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.
“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”
Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason.
He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”
After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.
Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you.
After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.
Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.
Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.
With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork.
You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home.
You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered.
You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be.
Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.
You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff.
“I– alright…”
When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.
“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.
You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”
Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”
Your heart catches in your throat.
“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.
Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”
Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.
You should say no and go home.
It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.
But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours.
“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”
Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.
As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours.
As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.
Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness.
“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says.
When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core.
You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth.
Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact.
It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells… you’re soaked.”
You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs.
“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him.
You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more.
“Aemond, please…”
He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.”
Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.
“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”
Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone.
Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.
“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that.
Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.
He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.
“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”
Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no.
That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.
But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.
And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.
You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away.
As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before.
His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.
You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.
Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you.
He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you.
Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.
“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.
“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again.
There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away.
So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.
When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.
“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door.
After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.
You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you.
“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase.
Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.
“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.
But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”
You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.
“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more.
He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.
He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.
“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”
To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips.
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”
Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.
You’re greedy. So greedy.
You love the way Aemond makes you feel.
He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.
You revel in it.
Greedy. Greedy. Greedy.
“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”
Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.
You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry — you don’t know why but that’s how you like it.
(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)
At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second.
Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.
Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again…
It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.
--
You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning.
Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.
Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you.
“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips.
“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.
Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch.
Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.
You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.
“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face.
“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.
You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”
Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.
Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”
Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt.
As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.
It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.
“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”
“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”
“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”
In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.
Aemond already knows who it is.
It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.
Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother.
“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.
Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.
Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.
But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
--
Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles.
He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen.
When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him.
He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.
It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him.
You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while.
Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.
All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”
Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”
Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry.
Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.
“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.
“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”
“And you think I want to know?”
“Just– tell me–”
“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known.
Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger.
“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.
Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.
Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”
You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”
Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.
And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.
--
Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.
Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her.
He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to.
It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago.
But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young.
Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.
Rinse and repeat.
The cycle will never end.
Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority.
Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings.
But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen.
“Hey, are you ready yet?”
Speak of the devil…
Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it.
“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.
Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”
Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”
Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.
Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?”
Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?
“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”
With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.”
Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit.
Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically.
Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop.
Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head.
“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”
At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even.
“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”
Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”
Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated.
So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.
With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing.
“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”
Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”
Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.
--
It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there.
When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them.
Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.
Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.
That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.
So pretty, like a shining star.
So close, yet so out of reach.
Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder.
With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.
With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.
As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.
In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,
You do?
Aegon nods.
Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns.
It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.
And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given.
When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.
When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.
But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.
Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.
Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.
Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit.
And Aemond?
He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd imagine#hotd#aemond#aemond targaryen
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Power - König x reader
summary: you’re a combat medic tending to könig’s wounds. könig can see the strength beneath the timid surface of your personality and decides to take the lead in helping you embrace it.
pairing: könig x medic!reader
cw: smut (MDNI!!), dominant könig, soft könig, afab anatomy (reader), fingering
word count: 2,378
as an afab person, i’ll probably be writing most smut (unless drabbles) with afab anatomy.
i don’t have the experience, nor knowledge to write mlm fics with amab anatomy and don’t want to contribute to harmful stereotypes due to my lack of knowledge- so any smut will be non specified on anatomy or female.
ALSO !! never written smut before this is SO out of my comfort zone lord help me
Gentle strokes and tender fingertips graze along the scarred flesh of König’s arm, steady in their movement, precise and confident.
It’s unusual that the giant before you was in your office to begin with, rarely allowing the medics to tend to his wounds. It was something that König usually cared for himself, preferring to rely on his own skill rather than the help of those around him.
It was just his luck that the wound requiring stitches was so awkwardly placed - the back of his bicep - too out of reach for his own hands to tend to.
You stood at his side, finishing the last remaining stitches while he sat silently in his chair, barely flinching each time the needle pierced through his flesh.
König's breath catches in his throat at your tender ministrations, the gentle caress of your fingers sending a shiver down his spine. He found himself captivated, his piercing gaze fixed on your face as you tended to his wound with such care.
"You have a... gentle touch," he murmured, the tender words sounding unfamiliar on his lips. Clearing his throat, he shifted slightly in the chair, his eyes darting away as if suddenly self-conscious. "Not what I expected from a field medic." Comes his now gruff voice.
You chuckle quietly, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.
“My hands were never made to bore blood. I’m much better with a stethoscope than I am a gun, though I admire the skill you possess on the field.” You explain softly, voice hushed as you focus on the task at hand.
“It’s something that I’ll never become quite as good at compared to my medical skills” you continue, voice still low in concentration as you finally tie the finishing knot to his stitching, turning to grab some medical gauze to begin wrapping it up.
König's brow furrows slightly under his sniper hood as he listened to your words, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his features.
"Ja, well..." he rumbled, his gaze falling to your hands as you began wrapping the gauze around his arm. "Different skills are needed for different tasks."
His eyes lingered on you for a moment, something almost akin to admiration in his expression. "But yours are just as valuable, medic." The gruff edges of his voice seemed to soften ever so slightly.
You pause momentarily, looking up at him before offering him a kind smile.
“Thank you” you thank appreciatively. “A lot of the time we get overshadowed. We may not have as intense a job as the soldiers, but we’re just as important. We tend to get forgotten in this line of work” you tell him truthfully. “It’s nice to hear that from time to time” you grin, stepping back to let König rise from his seat.
“You’re free to go now- I’m all done” you inform him, handing him a small capsule of medication.
“Take these if you start to feel any pain from your wound” are your final instructions before he silently leaves, nothing but a curt nod of appreciation sent your way.
The next time you see König is on your way to the KorTac mess hall a few days later.
You catch sight of the man as you see him walking in the other direction.
“Colonel König!” You call out to grab his attention, jogging to catch up with him. “How’s the arm?” you ask kindly, peering over at the bandaged area.
König paused mid-stride, his broad shoulders tensing ever so slightly at the sound of your voice. For a moment, he considered simply continuing on, but something in your tone gave him pause.
Turning to face you, he regarded you with a guarded expression, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over your form.
"It's healing," he rumbled, his voice low and gruff. Glancing down at the bandaged limb, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "The stitches are holding." There was a hint of begrudging...appreciation in his tone.
You nod, a smile on your face at the news.
“I’m glad. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to check over it sometime to replace the bandaging and ensure that it’s healing well” you inform him, asking for permission to do so.
König felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest at the warmth in your tone, your concern for his wellbeing catching him off guard. He cleared his throat, gaze shifting away momentarily.
"Ja, that would be...acceptable," he mumbled, the words sounding almost reluctant.
The hesitance in his voice makes you feel slightly uncertain in yourself, as if you’re overstepping a boundary that you shouldn’t be with the colonel.
You nod, giving him a tight smile.
“I’ll stop by sometime this evening when you’re not busy” you tell him, sending him a small nod.
König's eyes narrowed slightly at your reaction, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face.
"As you wish, medic," he rumbled, his tone layered with a subtlety that belied his true nature.
Turning on his heel, he strode away, his steps purposeful and his bearing commanding, but as he walked there was a slight tension in his shoulders - one that had not been there before.
That evening, as promised, you made your way to König's quarters. The door swung open at your approach, revealing the imposing figure of the Austrian colonel. He stood there silently, his piercing gaze sweeping over you, sizing you up.
You’re startled slightly when König opens the door, neck craning as you lift your head to meet his gaze, his imposing figure towering over your much shorter one.
"Come in," he said gruffly, stepping aside to allow you entrance.
You step inside timidly while König closes the door behind him.
Unlike the other soldiers who were assigned to shared bunks, König was given a private room, his sleeping quarters merged with his office. A private luxury given to those of high status within KorTac.
König's leering gaze swept over you as you stepped into his private quarters, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was an intensity to his stare that was almost unnerving, as if he were silently assessing you.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing towards a sturdy chair positioned near his desk. His tone left no room for argument.
Moving to comply, you couldn't help but notice the subtle interplay of muscle beneath the tight confines of his uniform. There was an undeniable power and grace to his movements that was both intimidating and oddly captivating.
"Well, Medic," he rumbled, his voice low and tinged with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place. "Let's see if your handiwork has held up."
As you settled into the chair, König moved to stand before you, his towering frame casting a shadow over your form. Wordlessly, he began to unwrap the bandage on his arm, exposing the angry red sutures that you had so carefully tended to the previous day.
König's eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the wound, his weathered fingers gently probing the area. A low hum rumbled in his throat as he examined your handiwork.
"Hmm, not bad," he acknowledged almost begrudgingly, his gaze flickering to meet yours. There was a faint gleam of what might have been approval in his steel-blue eyes.
He swiftly sits down across from you. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded you in silence for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
He watches as you retrieve your small medical pack, gathering the materials you needed to redress the wound and sanitise it thoroughly.
"Tell me, Medic," he murmured, his voice low and rough-edged. "What else other than medicine have you learned in your time with Kortac?"
You stand, walking over to him to inspect the wound yourself, once again finding yourself in the same position a few days before in your medical room.
“I’ve seen you in training. I’ve learnt not to get on your bad side” you muse light heartedly, earning a quirked brow of amusement from König - not that you would have been able to see underneath the fabric of his mask.
“Ah, so you’ve learned that much at least” he rumbles, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. He continues to study you as you clean and dress his wound, silent gaze penetrating and unwavering. “And what else have you learned?” he presses, his tone low and almost…. Curious. “About yourself perhaps?”
His fingers drum against the arm oh his chair, the motion betraying a hint of restlessness. “Working with KorTac is no easy feat. It takes a… Certain kind of person to thrive here”
You nod in agreement, fingers gently brushing over his skin as you finish cleaning the wound, reaching for the fresh gauze to wrap it again.
“It is.” You quietly agree, eyes never leaving your hands as you continue your ministrations. “I realise now that my role as a medic is much better suited to me than that of a soldier. I found it challenging to be the one causing the destruction rather than healing it.” You confess honestly.
König’s eyes narrow as he listens to your confession, an unreadable glint flashing in his eyes.
“Is that so?” He murmurs, voice low and contemplative. Leaning forward in his chair, he studies you intently, now finished with his redressing and packing away your materials at his desk. “What is it you find so… Challenging about destruction?”
His finger trace the edge of his bandaging that you had so carefully wrapped around his arm, the touch almost deliberately sensual.
“Perhaps you haven’t found the right motivation.”
You pause, eyes watching carefully as his large finger traces the white gauze.
“I’m not sure I could ever find the motivation to encourage causing harm” you confess slowly, gaze never leaving his subtle movements as he fidgets with the dressing of his wound.
“Is that so?” He responds, a hint of challenge in his tone. Slowly, he rose from his chair, towering over you as he moved to loom over your smaller frame. “Perhaps I could show you” he breathes, face mere inches from yours.
Your eyes widen ever so slightly, stepping back as König raises to his full height.
The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming.
“What it truly means to be strong… To be powerful.” His large hand reaches out to trace the outline of your jaw, mimicking what he had just done with his freshly dressed wound.
“Show me how to be strong?” You repeat unsurely, wide eyes looking up at him with uncertainty.
König’s lips curl in to a predatory smile, his finger grazing your cheek once more.
“Ja, mein kleine” he purrs, voice low and soothing. “Let me show you the true meaning of strength.” His fingers move from your jaw, thick finger grasping at your chin, tightening ever so slightly.
“Power is not something to be feared liebling,” he hums, eyes scanning over your face to gauge your reaction. “It is something to be embraced… To be wielded”. Leaning in closer, he fixes you with an unwavering stare, gluing you in place where you stand. “I can teach you how to do that” His gaze drops down to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes. “If you’ll let me.”
That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, sat atop König’s waist - straddling him. Your legs rest on either side of his large body, his hungry eyes sweeping over your thighs that tremble, clenching down against his hips, his fingers buried deep inside you.
He curls them with deadly precision, making you cry out as you continue to ride his fingers.
“That’s it, mein süße" he purrs, low and rough. “Take what you need”
His thumb circles your sensitive nub, slow, agonising strokes, his piercing gaze locked on your face - watching intently for your every reaction.
“Show me how you pleasure yourself” he commands, voice thick with dark promise.
You whimper and mewl, hands planted flat against his chest for support, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck and darkening your already red face.
You gasp and shudder increasing your tempo as you slowly gain confidence, slowly find a rhythm.
His thumb presses harder against your clit, rough, callous padded fingers sending delicious jolts of pleasure through your body.
“Don’t hold back” he commands. “I want to hear every shameless cry.”
You lower your head, eyes clenching shut as you continue to fuck yourself on his fingers, strangled cries breaching your lips as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure.
König’s eyes gleam with delight, his hand gripping at your hip tightly to guide your movements.
“Louder.”
You let out a sob, gummy walls clenching around his thick fingers as you near your climax. König’s expression darkens with savage delight as he watches you unravel above him, your desperate cries music to his ears.
His hand on your hip surges upwards, gripping your chin and raising your head to look at him, pupils blown wide and eyes half lidded.
“Look at me, mein süße"
“I want to see the ecstasy on your face as you come undone.”
Like an obedient dog at his command, you lose yourself in the pleasure of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. Your hips buck forward with each desperate thrust, tears of pleasure building behind your eyes and lips parted.
You look so beautiful unravelling above him.
Legs quivering and walls gripping König’s fingers buried deep inside your cunt, your orgasm washes over you. You moan loudly, arms trembling under your weight as you struggle to keep yourself upright, König’s fingers continuing to coax you through your release.
“That’s it, maus.”
“Let it all go.”
You’re panting heavily, body shaking as you open your eyes to meet König again.
There’s an unmissable glint of approval in the colonel’s eyes, drinking in the sight of your dishevelled form atop his lap.
He could get used to this.
Slowly, you lower yourself, laying yourself down- your chest pressed up against his.
He withdraws his fingers carefully, cautious to not overstimulate you further and bringing them up to his lips. A rumbling purr of satisfaction escapes his lips as he tastes you, savouring the flavour.
“You taste divine” he purrs, gaze still hungry and predatory.
“I think I shall have another helping…”
#konig x reader#konig cod#konig mw2#konig smut#codmw#call of duty#kortac#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#fanfic#konig fanfiction#könig fic#konig headcanons#konig hcs#konig call of duty#smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#horangi#ghost cod#ghost#captain price#kyle garrick#john mactavish#soap cod#Spotify
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Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
#yuyu1024#scoups fluff#scoups fanfic#scoups x you#scoups x reader#scoups smut#seungcheol svt#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#svt smut#svt seungcheol#scoups scenarios#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#seventeen smut#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seungcheol fluff
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Charles Leclerc imagine
In which you and your boyfriend go to a business party and two men try to seduce you.
Warnings: men trying to seduce you, a little bit of alcohol
Word count: 959
Dressed in all black accompanied with gold jewelry, you and Charles made you way to the entrance of the building in which you were invited to. Your fashion business had gotten really popular ever since it launched. You had already a decent reputation and Charles could only help with that. Of course, your boyfriend had advertised your business and you went really, really big.
Charles opened the door for you, as always, planting a small kiss on your cheek as you entered first. Everything looked amazing. Charles followed close behind you, making sure to not lose you in the crowd of people. You made your way to the reception, asking for directions to your business event.
"The room is gonna be on the fourth floor, on the right side. And also, just in case you need any more help, there are bodyguards present on the same floor as you're headed to. Have a fun time!" The receptionist smiled at us.
"Thank you!" You smiled at her, wrapping your arm around Charles', getting closer to him. He looked satisfied, but you didn't bother it and you made your way to the elevator.
"Fourth floor it is." You exhaled, feeling a bit stressed.
"Fourth floor indeed." Charles added. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, lightly squeezing your thigh and looking down at you.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit stressed." You answered, letting out a sigh and looking down at the elevator floor.
"Everything is gonna be okay. We're gonna have a nice time. Plus, I'm here for you. If you want to go, just tell me and we'll get out of here anytime." Charles comforted you, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. He grabbed your chin and kissed your lips. You kissed him back immediately.
"Oh wow!" A man said, entering the elevator. You hadn't noticed the doors that had opened right in front of you.
"Sorry!" You said, pulling Charles out with you. You heard your boyfriend laugh behind you and you turned around. "That was really embarrassing."
"It was funny, mon amour. Kinda risky too. I loved it." (my love)
You rolled your eyes playfully and decided to go explore the floor a bit more. There were in fact some security guards near a small café corner. You looked around and made your way to a hallway that led to multiple rooms. On the left side were another business' name and on the right was your business logo with the name of it. You smiled and looked at Charles excitedly. He let out a small laugh and kissed you.
As you entered the party room, it was surprising how many people were there. You saw some of your employees in a corner dancing and talking all together. There was also a lot of people you didn't know because everyone could invite who they wanted.
"There's so much people. Do you know all of them?" Charles asked.
"Not at all. I only know a couple of them." You admitted.
"Let's go then, what are you waiting for?" Your boyfriend asked.
"Um, nothing! Let's do this!" You said loudly, exploring around.
You headed over to your employees and had a small talk with them. You really wanted to just go and see what there was in the room. You found it kind of weird that you barely knew who there would be and what there would be at your own business party, but you decided to still enjoy the moment. Charles wasn't with you anymore which you found good because you really wanted him to meet some new people.
"(Y/N)!!! COME OVER HERE!" One of your employees yelled, waving at you. They were sitting at a mini bar.
"Oh my God! What is this? There's a mini bar?" You said, surprised.
"YUP! Get a drink!"
You got yourself a drink and talked with your girls. All of you were having such a good time. You never wanted this to end. As another drink was ordered from you, two men sat down on seperate stools next to you. You tried your best to ignore them.
"Hey beautiful." One of the men said, placing his hands on the counter.
"I'm taken." You said, not looking at any of the two. You felt trapped, which was a feeling you absolutely hated.
"That's fine, your man don't gotta be aware of anything." The man in the back said, giving you a creepy smile. You didn't answer, trying your best to ignore them.
"Oh come on baby, talk to us." The man besides you said, sounding impatient.
"I don't need to talk to you whatsoever."
"Don't be like that, doll. I'll bring you back to mine. I can't wait to take your dress off and-"
"Who are you?" Charles asked, showing up behind you, looking at the men.
"Who are you?" The two men asked at the same time, eyeing you up and down.
"Come mon amour, let's get out of here." Charles said, helping you get up since you were a bit tipsy. You put your arm around his neck and you walked away. The two men watched as they sighed in disbelief. (my love)
"I hated that, a lot." You said as you watched the doors of the elevator close.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there faster." Charles apologized, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"It's not your fault. It's those men. They're weird." You replied.
"They are indeed weird, but I could've been with you to stop that. I'm so sorry." Charles apologized again, giving you small kisses all over your face.
"Don't be sorry. Let's just get out of here for good. I don't want to see them again."
"Of course. Anything for you, (Y/N)."
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#cute#f1#f1 blurb#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 x you#fandom#f1 imagine#x yn#yn#older man younger woman#romantic#romance#relationship#fanfic#delusional#writing#formula one#formula 1
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”
“--most of the time.”
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.
“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.”
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki x reader#loki fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki/reader#loki smut#loki comedy#island fic#deserted island#alone with loki#enemies to lovers#Avenger!Loki#Avengers#Island AU#Smutty loki#island fever#thor#tony stark#natasha romanoff#bruce banner#steve rogers#sam wilson#captain america#rescue fic#deserted island trope#marvel loki
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our boredom's bone-deep
ੈ✩ aki hayakawa x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst, alcohol, smoking, hurt/comfort, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of s*icidal ideation
ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: theyre both so repressed. also sorry about the tswift reference guilty as sin is just on repeat this week
“Yo.”
Aki turns around to see you walking towards him. You join him on the balcony, reaching over to steal his cigarette back from the breast pocket of his windbreaker.
He looked good in civilian clothes. You didn’t see him like this often – out of his dress shirt and tie with his hair down. Dressed casually like he was a normal boy and not a hunter who signed his soul over.
“You can ask first, you know,” Aki grumbles, watching as you light up the cigarette in your mouth.
“You were going to say yes, anyway.”
He rolls his eyes, knowing that it’s true. He’d taken you to his apartment because it was closer to the location of the mission, offering aid to the wounds you’d gotten in the face of a devil. He didn’t have to. You could still walk and you certainly weren’t dying, but he felt the need to keep you close, anyway.
You chuckle when you see the irritated look on his face.
“Don’t pout.”
The cigarette in his mouth is burned down to the nub. You take it out, grazing the cherried end against the ceramic eightball ashtray you’d gotten him for Christmas the year before. The paint was chipping from how often he used it, speckles of white against the black paint.
You take another cig out from the pack before placing it back into his pocket, holding the stick between your fingers up to his mouth and lighting it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“You’re very welcome,” you grin.
You stay like that for a few minutes. Smoking and silent, staring at the sky post-golden hour, when everything is blanketed in cobalt blue bleeding into a light orange.
“How are your cuts?”
“I’m fine,” you chuckle. “Why do you worry so much? I’ve been around longer than you have, you know.”
Aki merely shrugs. He doesn’t look at you. Holds in his emotions like a geyser begging to stay dormant.
“I just do,” he says plainly.
“How sweet,” you scoff, flicking your cigarette off the railing. “Thought you liked me the least, to be honest.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, irritated. “You’re the one who trained me. Obviously, I don’t hate you.”
You merely chuckle, discarding your blazer. Your uniform shirt is still slightly bloodied.
“What, you think I don’t like you?” Aki asks, a brow raised.
“I’d be surprised if you liked anyone,” you shrug. “But I can tell you have a soft spot for Denji and Power, even if you refuse to admit it.”
He grunts, looking away from you as he finishes his second cigarette. The late spring breeze blows his hair into his face. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he adjusts his arms on the balcony, his elbow grazing yours. You don’t react, your chin tucked into your arms as you lean forward. He looks at you with curiosity.
You look at him finally and grin.
“You look better with your hair down, you know.”
“I was thinking about cutting it,” he mumbles.
“Don’t. It’s cute. I always thought you looked kind of like a girl. The hair is working.”
He rolls his eyes again, grimacing. He tries to hide his flush.
“Thanks,” he deadpans. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What do you mean?” you grin. “You think I’m scary and mean? I’m very sweet to my lovers, you know.”
He could cringe. That wasn’t what he meant. He shivers at the word “lover” like it’s taboo, knowing very well that images of you are flooding his brain against his will. Your proximity makes it worse, how even despite both of you getting roughed up during your mission, you still smelled sweet to him.
“Yeah, right.”
“Do you really think I’m so cruel?” you challenge him. He’s not going to take the bait. He won’t.
“I’d assume you were a sadist.”
“You think I’m a sadist?” you laugh.
“Probably,” Aki grumbles. He fidgets.
He doesn’t want to take out another cigarette, but he’s convinced that it’s the only thing that would help him tolerate your presence right now. He’d felt unusual since he took you back to this apartment. His nose wrinkles at the memory of your body hours prior, your side saturated in blood. His rabbit heart thumping out of his chest at the thought you’d die in his arms — and yet here you are, next to him, teasing like you always do.
“Why?”
“Because you love pushing me to my limits,” he mutters.
“Oh, come on,” you chuckle. “It’s not like I treat you like a toy. I’m not Makima.”
“What does Makima have to do with this—”
“Because you listen to everything she says. It’s like all of you fucking worship her.”
Your voice sounds bitter, but Aki doesn’t want to pry about it. For some reason, something in his chest riles him, makes his heartbeat faster at the prospect that you might be jealous of his devotion to Miss Makima. You’d always clashed in your beliefs but was never particularly candid about it – you were like him. You wanted to kill devils for the sake of avenging your family, but you also seemed apathetic about your life. With no family or a promising future, you often didn’t care if you died. It was the most frustrating thing about you.
Aki huffs. “You hate following rules yet you’re still controlling. It’s hypocritical.”
“I am not controlling.”
“You are. And you love to torment me because I’m the only one willing to put up with your shit,” he says, laughing humorlessly. You don’t know that he would do anything you told him, that he didn’t give a fuck about Makima. It had always been you, at the forefront of both his blissful dreams and worst nightmares.
“I like your resilience,” you say quietly.
“Resilience?”
You nod slowly. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aki.”
He hates how much dopamine fills his brain when you say this. The smallest praises from you would have him hung up, lately. Even a smile was motivating, though he’d rather die than admit that to anyone. He was never one to pine or yearn, keeping to himself since he was young. No girl could pry anything out of him that wasn’t surface-level until you.
He hated it. It felt like a weakness.
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.”
“If I’m actually that strong, I probably would’ve broken down your walls by now.”
It could be a teasing statement, but he tucks his expression away into the fabric of his jacket, looking away from you. You’re so close to him, close enough to touch, but he still holds himself back.
“You should save your efforts,” you mumble.
Aki looks at you with narrowed eyes and tries to scan your face for anything telling, but you’re as stoic as him. He’d always found it frustrating, how he could never get anything out of you. He didn’t know how to be selfish. He was apprehensive about provoking you despite how much he wanted to.
“Why?”
You finally look him in the eye. Your features are painted with stubborn contempt as you glare at him.
“Because I’m not worth it.”
Your words strike him through the heart. You weren’t one to be particularly insecure – he’d known this since he met you. But your words now are trying to downplay how much he feels for you, and he won’t have it.
Aki moves close enough to you to smell your breath.
“You don’t get to decide whether or not I waste my time on you,” he protests.
You stare at him. You’re surprised he wants to know you at all. You’ve barely processed the meaning behind his words, the possibility of him wanting you beyond mission support and devil-hunting guidance. Both of you had walls up and that was fine. You never had any intention of breaking any of his, regardless of how often he showed up in your dreams. No matter how often you’d find yourself glancing at him, drinking up his features until you had snapped yourself out of it.
“You can’t want things as a devil hunter,” you say blankly, staring at the dark sky. “There’s no use. Desire is the root of all suffering and shit, right? Like in Buddhism?”
Aki feels his face warm up, his frown deepening as you say this without even looking at him.
“I’ll suffer for you if I want to,” he says firmly.
“Always a masochist,” you whisper, sighing. You smile weakly at him.
“Maybe I am a masochist.”
“I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a devil hunter, huh?”
“Why are you a devil hunter?” he raises a brow.
“Because it’s better than killing myself. If I die because of this job, at least I died being useful, you know?”
He swallows thickly at the thought of your death. He’d imagined it a thousand times since he met you and realized how sardonic you were, how little you cared about your own life. You were a mirror of him.
“Don’t say shit like that,” he says, his tone cold.
“It’s the truth.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not letting you die.”
You stare at him, the expression on your face unreadable. Your eyes look dim.
“Thanks,” you mutter. You slide the glass door open and go back inside. Aki feels his lungs ache.
Eventually, he follows you in and sees you on the couch, staring blankly at the television with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. He rolls his eyes. You were just as bad as Kishibe these days.
He sits down next to you without a word, stealing the bottle to take a gulp, flinching. You watch with amusement. He grimaces at you.
“What?” he asks, irritated.
“You can do better than that.”
He wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Maybe with his mouth. He blinks at you a little too fast, then distracts himself with another gulp. A longer one that makes his throat burn, his head dizzy. You laugh.
“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t force you to do it,” you scoff.
No, you didn’t. But it was always easy for Aki to do things for you. He often wanted to, didn’t ask any questions. You always wondered why.
“Would you roll around like a dog if I asked you to?” you grin.
“Fuck off.”
You lay down, perching your legs over his lap. He sets his hands on your thigh like it’s second nature to him. You scan his features. His midnight eyes glisten with the blue of the television reflecting in his irises, his mouth downturned into a default pout.
“You should keep your hair down more often.”
He looks at you with surprise, like he’d forgotten you were there.
“Pretty boy,” you mumble.
“You’re drunk.” He tries to keep his expression level. His face is hot from the whiskey, not you, he tells himself.
You shift your position and your foot grazes his crotch. It makes his breath hitch, the creature of want inside him gnawing at his heart. He thinks maybe you’re teasing him, so he takes your foot and rubs it. You raise a brow.
You’re sitting up now, grunting as you do. He pretends that you aren’t staring at him.
“Does it still hurt?” he murmurs.
“Nah. I’m good.”
There’s contempt on his face when he looks at you, his eyes tracing your collarbone just for a second before gazing at the blood on your shirt. Speckled shapes turning from red to brown.
“Let me see.”
“Aki. I’m fine.”
“Let me see,” he mumbles.
You sigh, unbuttoning your shirt until you’re only in a sports bra. He frowns at your wound, how the gauze is dark and nearly falling off.
“Why didn’t you tell me it needed to be changed?”
“It’s fine—”
“No,” he scolds. “Stay still.”
He pins you down by your hips. Somehow, he’s in between your legs, his face frowning in concentration as he looks at your skin. He gets up to grab the first aid kit.
You take another sip of whiskey.
It numbs the pain when he fixes you up again. His fingers are delicate when they handle you — you can’t help but stare at the way they move when he blots your cut. A small press to the center and you feel it sting, making you hiss. He grips you by the waist to disarm you.
Stay still.
“There,” he breathes, kneeling on the floor in front of you. “It’s more secure now.”
He looks at your stomach, watching the rise and fall of your skin as you breathe. You reach out and pat his head like he’s a pet. Aki was a cute drunk. Still stoic, but malleable in your hands. There are moments during group outings when he opens up a little, places his head on your shoulder. Looks at you for a bit longer than he normally allows himself to.
He presses his cheek to your thigh and sighs as you skim the nape of his neck with your fingers. You stroke his jaw. It’s the closest he’s ever been to you.
Your thumb hooks on his mouth briefly and you feel his tongue on the pad of your fingertip. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Glazed over in the dimness, dripped in syrup.
“You’re barely awake,” you breathe. “I should go.”
“No.” He grips your wrist when you pull your hand away, saliva from his mouth creating the string of fate. The sight made your heart sing. Disgusting.
“Why?” you whisper.
He’s quiet. He could bite the bullet, let the heat of it soar straight through his chest so you can see all the gory bits of desire in him. The whiskey only exacerbated the feeling. He was usually good at keeping it down, despite clinging to you like an extra limb. You probably saw right through him.
“Just stay,” he mutters.
“Make me stay, then.”
He hides his face in your lap again. He feels like such a boy. When you run your fingers through his hair again, he pulls away and grabs both of your wrists, pulling you toward him until you fall onto his lap, his body on the floor. He grips your hips and stares at you from below.
“What are you doing? You wanna wrestle?” you joke half-heartedly.
“No,” he slurs quietly. “You’re hurt.”
Aki sits up and leans on the back of his elbows. He looks at you like he’s eager prey, offering himself on a platter, but he won’t say it. It’s killing you.
“C’mon,” you grin. “I can take it.”
“Stop.”
You pin him to the ground. You’re playing. It’s just that and nothing else, isn’t it?
“Aki,” you say. Your face is so close to his. Your breath smells like tobacco and cinnamon, your neck like petrichor.
“I’m not letting you provoke me,” he groans.
You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to take care of me.”
“But I want to,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.
“Then I’ll take care of you. I’m your senpai, remember?”
His face is hot again, sweat sticking to his shoulder blades. Fuck, he needed to fix the fan since Power and Denji had broken it while wrestling. The memory reminds him of the position he’s in right now and a flush creeps up his neck.
“I–”
Your mouth interrupts him. It’s an experimental peck. Impulsive. It’s short, but Aki groans into it and touches his tongue with yours. You pull away with wide eyes.
There’s hunger in his gaze, something like desperation. You could work with this. You knew that you had Aki wrapped around your finger since he started at Public Safety, but you didn’t know he would be like this.
He breathes deeply, dark lashes blinking at you from the mess of his bangs. His dick was infallibly hard since you’d straddled him. It was aching now underneath your cunt — there was no hiding it.
He narrows his eyes, trying to disguise how much he wants you.
“Thought you said desire is the root of all suffering.”
“I guess we’re both masochists, then,” you whisper.
He kisses you with more force this time, buries his mouth into your neck to exhale the scent of his shampoo in your hair. Drunk on you. He sucks a hickey into your flesh like it’s payback.
He groans when he feels your hands underneath his shirt, rubbing against the pale skin of his abdomen until he takes the liberty to pull the fabric off himself. Aki has always been pretty – like a girl, like you’d told him before. He was also remarkably boyish. The shy type. He’d seem to grow muscles over the past year, his lean figure always hidden by the uniform.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he huffs.
“Get uglier, then,” you roll your eyes, pulling at the zipper of his jeans.
He lets you handle him like a doll.
“Thought you’d be rougher,” you whisper.
“You’ve… thought about this before?” he asks.
You blink at him, then look away.
“Once or twice.”
“I’m not gonna be rough with you,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Not when you got stabbed earlier today.”
“Told you I’m a masochist,” you chuckle dryly. You strip off your slacks, showing off your less-than-sexy cotton underwear. He grazes your core, the wet patch growing larger with your slick.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, mesmerized. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you, lust transparent on his face. It humiliated you, for some reason — you were always used to it rough and fast, your vision blurred while you took cock that you didn’t give a shit about. This was different. This was real.
You put your fingers in his mouth again, pinning him down. He moans when you spit on the head of his cock, palming him gently. Taming him.
You slide your panties off of your legs and do the same with his briefs. When you hover over him, your throat feels tight. He keeps looking at you like you created him. Like you were the world itself.
His tip catches on the slick of your cunt, circling your entrance. Your blood boils, every ventricle in your body sparking to life. You feel him buck his hips, desperate and rutting.
“Use me,” he groans, muffled from your fingers on his tongue.
You sink down on him and his eyes roll back. You remove your fingers from his mouth to toy with your clit, whimpering at the sensation of him filling you up. He was bigger than you expected.
Aki shudders from sensitivity. Alcohol usually numbs his senses, but he can feel all of you, how hot and tight you are. It’s driving him mad. He hiccups through moans, his throat raw.
Your cunt pulses as you grind on him, trembling above him as you try to keep your hips from stuttering too much. Already, you were about to fall apart.
“Fuck,” Aki mutters.
Your hand grazes his face and jaw, and he leans into your palm to kiss it earnestly. Your face burns as you tangle your fingers in his raven hair. When he rises to kiss you, you pull his strands while your other hand holds him back by his shoulder. He groans and thrusts upward into you, holding your hips so that your thighs are flush against his.
Your pulse throbs against the cave of your chest. Aki is desperate to kiss you, to get his tongue in your mouth, so he uses your own trick on you – pulls you in with force and grabs a fistful of your hair. You moan into his mouth, tapering off into a whimper, and you feel him let out a breathy laugh in between kisses.
Aki lets himself be a little loud — no one else was home, and fucking you was cathartic. He squeezes the fat of your thigh, his lunacy suppressed into his tight fists. Entranced by the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick.
You whimper as your knees start to get rug burn, the skin as raw as the love bites on your neck. Your stomach stirs, ecstasy boiling in the pit. You could pretend it was love from the way he gripped you.
“You’re fucking tight,” he grunts.
“Do you like it?” you rasp. You almost sound like you’re begging.
He nods and holds your face, his other hand making an imprint on your waist. Aki was so much taller than you — his size didn’t register until now, the way he was forcing your chin up to look up into his eyes.
He can barely speak, only letting out choked moans and heavy breaths. You look so vulnerable despite being on top of him. He could picture it now, your thighs shaking with arms outstretched to him in morning light. Bare-faced and illuminated, not a bruise on your body. Happy in another life.
“Fuck, Aki,” you moan.
“Again,” he breathes.
“What?”
“Say my name again. Like that.” Like you love me.
“A-Aki,” you whine, gasping for air. “Close.”
A rush of blood to the head. He almost wants to tell you he loves you, force you to say it back to him in between swapping spit. Even if it was just pretend.
You writhe as you cum. Heat-struck by the coil breaking in your stomach. It was like he was melting your insides. He feels your cunt twitch and spills into you with a groan, nose buried in your hair.
He winces as he pulls out of you, his cum getting the carpet wet. He’ll have to clean it up later. He breathes heavily and looks anywhere but your face.
“Lie down with me,” you whisper.
So he does, face to face with you, his arm loose over your waist. He wants to kiss you, but he assumes you’ve had your fill. He wonders if you’ll ever toy with him like that again. He hates himself for how badly he wants it.
But then you look at him, your eyes searching his for meaning. Unspoken words.
“You okay, baby?”
He’s shocked at the nickname, blushing like he didn’t just fuck you to the moon and back.
He nods, blinking rapidly when you stroke his jaw gently. Branding him with tenderness. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with you. He didn’t want to be a sycophant, but he still felt attached to you, and it would only get worse from here. Stuck on his heart like chewed gum.
“Angel boy,” you sigh, hazed. You’re still a little drunk. “Pretty.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”
“What are you, then?”
He says nothing. You smile. The warmth in his chest is immeasurable. It aches like a wound that never heals. He supposes that’s what you are for him. But what is he?
“Yours.”
#aki hayakawa smut#aki hayakawa x reader#aki hayakawa x you#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man fanfiction#csm smut#chainsaw man x you#chainsaw man x reader#csm x you#csm x reader
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Squabbling (Medic! Reader, GN, SFW)
Sooo idk if anyone is as fucked up as i am or on tt lately but ive been getting like a beauty and the beast audio with ghost cosplayers ……So this is me writing that rq :D
(i am responsible for my own fyp guys, guilty as charged)
CW: harsh British man swearing n soft stupid hidden feelings :D (also not proof read guys)
“Tha’ hurts.” Simon growled cruelly, yanking his arm away involuntarily to glower at you, making you even more frustrated at his attitude.
“Well if you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” you said as you gave him a moue, palm facing upwards toward him to ask for his wound back, to which he defiantly glared at you.
“Well if you hann’t been so reckless, this wouldn’t ‘ve happened.” He countered through his teeth, leaning in just a little to where you could see a crease in his eye from the angry look he had underneath his mask.
“If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away.” you jeered back with a tilt of your chin upwards, wanting to properly meet his eyes as you bickered childishly with him.
Ghost paused, his gaze stuttering across your features, the pure kindness and care you had for him in this moment outshined the attitude you returned, seeing how it softened around the corners of your mouth, a mouth he might like to kiss one of these days.
His words stoped in his throat. Ghost knew you weren’t trying to argue, but that didnt mean he wasn’t still mad you were right.
“Well…you shouldn’t ‘ave been over there in tha’ first place.” He faltered, his pride getting the better of him and continued to squabble for his innocence, almost in fear you’d connect the dots for his own recklessness as protectiveness deriving from a place of love.
“Well you should learn to control your temper.” You added softly, your fingers eventually curling back around his bicep to prop his wounded forearm over the table, which he hesitantly relaxed under your touch, however much the wound might have hunted him.
“Now hold still, this might sting a little,” you muttered cautiously, taking an alcohol-damp cloth to clean his dirt infested wound, earning a hiss of pain through Simon’s lips
“Son of a cunt, could ya be more gen’le?” He muttered through another pained gravelly sigh, to which you gave him an anpologetic glance, then allowing the air of awkward tension to settle back between you two.
“By the way…” you started up again after a few seconds of silence, keeping your eyes focused on his wound and preparing to wrap it up snuggly before the exfil comes.
“Thank you. For saving my life.” You confessed, peeling your eyes from your work to look up through your lashes, seeing his gaze was locked onto you the entire time.
Begrudgingly he absorbed your gratitude, his eyes fluttered for only a moment out of embarrassment, glancing away and grumbling under his breath softly.
“You’re welcome.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#cringey drabble ft. cringey sources#Ill be his medic any day
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Unwanted Help
Feyd Rautha x sister!reader
Warnings - nothing just fluff
Word count - 2587
a/n - it's my birthday, so i thought I might as well get this out of the drafts and give you guys a gift too :) also let's just pretend Feyd never killed his mother and his upbringing wasn't so terrible lol. Thank you guys for all the love and enjoy :)
“So, how do I look?” you ask as you step out of your walk-in closet.
Your mother and your brother Feyd had been waiting in your bedroom to see your dress for the debutante ball; Feyd was looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, while your mother made herself comfortable at the edge of your bed.
You do a little spin as you walk out of your closet, for the theatrics of course, before turning to face your family. A smile instantly appeared on your mothers face as she clapped her hands, while Feyd turned his attention away from the window to give you a questionable look. It was obvious he wasn’t a fan of the dress.
“It’s gorgeous, my love,” your mother beams as she walks over to gather your hands in hers.
“I’ve seen better looks on the commoners wandering the streets,” Feyd declares as his eyebrows furrow, looking at the fabric like it was one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen. Your face drops and your mouth falls ajar at Feyd’s statement.
“Feyd-Rautha!” your mother exclaims, scowling at your brother.
“I’m sorry, I thought she was asking for our opinions,” he dully states with a shrug.
“An opinion doesn’t mean tearing her down,” your mother retorts. “Besides, there are only a handful of people that could afford the seamstress that designed your sister's dress.”
You pull your hands out from your mother’s grasp and walk over to the mirror on the wall to see your appearance for yourself. She follows and stands behind you as you look at your reflection, while Feyd keeps his place by the window. The gown was everything you could imagine and more – and it should be, given the fact that you gave the seamstress explicit directions in order to bring your visions to life. You turn to the side and assess the back of you before turning back and running a hand down your dress.
“It’s perfect,” you say, mainly to yourself, then turn to frown at your brother, “You’re an imbecile, Feyd.”
He just rolls his eyes in response.
Deep down, Feyd did appreciate the way you looked, but all he could think of was the amount of men that were going to be looking at you later tonight. His skin crawled at the thought. He made a mental note to make sure to keep a blade under his robe.
You also knew that Feyd wasn’t completely disgusted with the way you look – even though it would take a lot for him to say that out loud – so his opinion didn’t affect you too much. Feyd was a huge softie when it came to you, but also extremely protective.
“That seamstress could’ve made you something that wasn’t so…revealing. There’s no doubt people will be looking,” Feyd says.
He was referring to the way the dress accentuated your breasts, and how the corset helped give your body an hourglass figure.
“That’s kind of the point. The whole point of a debutante ball is to help a woman find a suitor, you know, and of course to show off to everyone else,” your mother smirks at the end.
Feyd’s eye twitched at the idea of you marrying some pathetic man.
“Does father know?” Feyd asks.
“Of course he does, and he’s fine with it because he understands,” your mother tells him. Feyd frowned at her response. “Now, enough of this. Let’s leave her be until it’s time to go.”
Your mother started to walk to the door of your bedroom, and when she noticed Feyd hadn’t moved, she whirls around to give him a look. Feyd rolls his eyes, but then moves to follow her out of your room.
Later that day when you and your family were walking into the building, you felt excited and nervous. Most of the public outings you experienced had to do with Feyd’s games or business meetings off planet, so you rarely enjoyed more casual outings.
It didn’t take long for you to start socializing with some of the other girls that you did know – they were princesses of lords or barons your father had done business with in the past. They were kind and easy to converse with, but you found yourself having to listen to them putting your brother on a pedestal; they talked about how strong and undefeated he was, or they talked about how attractive they found him and who they thought could get with him first. They didn’t seem to care about the fact that his sister was standing there talking with them as well, or maybe they did and was hoping you would mention one of them to Feyd. You wouldn’t.
There was of course that one group of girls that formed a clique to gossip about everyone in attendance, like how much each family was worth and which one had the higher place in society, but they also made sure to discuss who was dressed the best and who had the best chance of finding a suitor. You saw a couple of them whispering and pointing at you, but you just rolled your eyes because you knew each one of their backstories, such as the fact that a few of them belonged to families that were going bankrupt. There was no doubt they were projecting their own insecurities.
It also didn’t take long for men to approach you to strike up conversation, or to ask you to join them in the middle for a dance. Those who said they would be back later to get to know you more never did. You just figured that those men weren’t really interested in you.
Little did you know, Feyd was watching you the whole time, but he mostly cared for the men who had the audacity to approach you. He was standing in a group of well known men, your guys’ father amongst them, discussing politics and whatever else they felt was important. Feyd, of course, had to chip in every now and again, but that didn’t stop him from keeping you in his sight and leaving the conversation when needed.
“May I have this dance,” a gentleman known as Prince Killian approached you, his hand extended out for you to take.
Apparently, he was next in line to inherit his father’s title as lord – a man who had recently gotten sick with an incurable illness.
“You may,” you smile as you hold out your hand for him to take. Why not, right? He was a kind and humble man, according to what you heard from word of mouth, but was too gentle and soft to take his father’s place. He was also awfully easy on the eyes.
Prince Killian led you to the center of the packed ballroom and guided you through the music. He made sure to ask about your interests and your hobbies, what occupied your time during your days. He even made sure to compliment your dress. His eyes remained on yours and he kept a gentle smile on his face the whole time. You enjoyed your time with him, and the feeling seemed to be reciprocated on his end.
When you had to excuse yourself because your mother wanted to pull you aside, you didn’t notice Feyd swiftly and smoothly making his way over to Prince Killian. Feyd had been waiting for this moment since he saw the two of you getting very close during your dance. He saw the way Prince Killian looked at you, and there was no doubt in Feyd’s mind that he was interested in you.
Feyd didn’t approve, Prince Killian was too soft as a man after all. Did you really want to be tied down to someone with that kind of a reputation? Would he be able to protect you? Feyd felt disgusted just looking at him. He had to stop this relationship from blossoming even further.
“What is your business with my sister?” Feyd asked the prince. He had snuck up on him from behind, so Killian had gotten startled. He faced Feyd and tried his best to keep his cool as Feyd stood there expressionless with his hands clasped behind his back. Feyd intimated him, he intimated everyone.
“Nothing of ill intent, I promise you, na-baron,”Prince Killian says to him and holds his hands behind his back, mimicking Feyd and trying to seem unaffected.
“Is that so?” asks Feyd while giving him a once-over. “So you’ve taken a liking to her then?”
“Yes, I have,” Prince Killian nods.
“And you would like to pursue her?”
“With your permission, of course,” Prince Killian offers a smile.
“How unfortunate because you don’t have it,” Feyd gives him an insincere smile.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t question me. I’ll-,” Feyd stops when he sees you enter the room, scanning the crowd for the prince in front of him. “I don’t want to see you around her again, for the rest of the night and for the rest of your life, however long that may be,” Feyd tells him before walking away, not giving Prince Killian a chance to say anything else.
Prince Killian gulps as he watches Feyd leave. He decides it would be the wisest to listen to your brother and leave you alone. Princes Killian goes up to his mother to tell him he doesn’t feel well and that he wants to leave. His mother is upset, but agrees to leave.
You don’t see him leave the room as you continue to look around, but Feyd does. He stops a smirk from forming on his face as he joins his father in another conversation.
Your heart drops once you don’t find Prince Killian anywhere. After all, he did promise to find you after your mother was done with you. Did you really read him wrong? Did he not like you just like the other men you had met throughout the night? Was there something wrong with you?
Tears form in your eyes as you begin to doubt yourself, but you quickly hold them back, not wanting to be seen crying in public. You go to find your mother once again to tell her that you were ready to leave. The whole evening had basically been a complete waste of your time. Your mother notices the difference in your mood, but doesn’t question as goes to ask the car to be brought around and gather Feyd and your father.
You spent that night locked in your room crying, feeling defeated. Your mother came to talk to you, but you didn’t open the door, feeling too embarrassed to explain. It was your fault for getting your hopes up in the first place, wasn’t it? A couple of your favorite lady’s maids also came by to check on you and asked from the other side of the door if there was anything you could do, but at the moment there wasn’t.
You stayed in that gloomy mood for the next couple of days before deciding it was time to get over it. You were a Harkonnen, after all.
About a week later, you were sitting in the library reading like you usually do at some point in the day. Today though, you were interrupted by your mother barging through the library doors with an unpleasant expression on her face, her gown flowing with her steps with your brother not too far behind. You thought you had done something wrong, causing you to replay the past few days in your mind, but you couldn’t find the problem.
That’s because you weren’t the problem.
“Mother, I don’t think this is necessary. There’s no need to get her upset all over again,” Feyd says. Is that panic in his voice?
Your mother holds up her hand to stop him from saying anything else.
Feyd had walked past your room several times, hearing your cries flood out of your room. He would stop outside of your door and wondered if he should knock and go talk to you, but each time he decided not to. He wasn’t a fan of hearing you in pain, but he figured there was no use in saying anything because the damage was done.
It got to the point where he felt guilty so he decided to confess to his mother what he had done, not thinking she would react this way. Though when the words fell out of his mouth, she was fuming; she had every right to be.
“Tell her what you just told me, or I will,” your mother glares at Feyd.
You look between them in confusion, deciding it was best to put your book aside. Feyd’s jaw tensed as he stared his mother down, not really wanting to say it aloud again. He finally gives into her gaze and looks away.
“Feyd?” you question as you watch the wheels turn inside his head.
He shakes his head as if to shake the thought away, but of course it remains. Might as well just get it over with.
“The reason why Prince Killian didn’t return to you that night at the ball, or any of the men that had approached you, was because of me,” Feyd tells you. You can’t see it, but his fists are clenched behind his back.
“Tell her how you threatened them to never go near her again,” your mother tells him. Your eyes widen as you look over at your brother who seemed to be uncomfortable.
Feyd lets out a frustrated sigh before looking you in the eye. “It’s true.”
You don’t know whether to be angry or relieved. “All this time I thought it was my fault, but it was you?” you ask, but it’s honestly more of a statement. Feyd nods in response.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” your mother asks him, and Feyd avoids her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you, and he means it no matter how hard it was for him to say it. You can tell also, but that doesn’t make it all better.
“And?” your mother prods, her arms folded across her chest.
“I will make it right, if you will let me, of course,” he says.
And he did. The next day Prince Killian had arrived at your home, by the request of your father, knowing he wouldn’t come if it was Feyd who had asked. You weren’t entirely thrilled because you weren’t sure if he would still feel the same towards you, if there were any feelings there in the first place. Your worry quickly turned into happiness as the two of you reconnected with Prince Killian telling you what you wanted to hear.
Your mother and father watched from afar as he bent down to kiss your hand before standing straight again, your hand still in his. Feyd was also there beside them, not entirely pleased with the sight in front of him, but as long as you were happy he would have to learn to deal with it. Of course if Prince Killian ever decided to hurt you or stop pursuing you, he would have to take matters into his own hands.
“This is the man, huh?” your father asks with a tilt of his head.
It brought Feyd joy that his father was also unsure about the man standing in front of you.
“Would you both quit it and be happy for her,” your mother scowled at them both before fixing her face as you turned around to face your family.
#austin butler x reader#austin butler#austin butler imagine#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha#dune fanfiction#dune part 2
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your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen blurbs#seventeen fluff#seungcheol scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#joshua scenarios#jun scenarios#soonyoung scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#jihoon scenarios#seokmin scenarios#mingyu scenarios#minghao scenarios#hansol scenarios#seungkwan scenarios#chan scenarios
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IN BLOOM | jisung
first date series. second chance lovers.
pairing: jisung x fem!reader
word count: 13.2k
genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader
warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!)
summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin
· · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3
also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!
“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway.
“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”
Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”
He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.
“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.
He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges.
“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”
You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”
Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned.
It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.
That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.
“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”
You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.
“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”
“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip.
February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.
There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.
Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron.
Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.
“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind.
If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.
But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.
By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched.
“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.”
You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.
Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.
“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”
You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.
“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.
You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”
You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.”
He shifts on his feet, still unsure.
“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”
Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”
When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.
Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.
“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant.
Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.
“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”
He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.
“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”
You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”
“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”
He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.
It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find.
When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful.
“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”
You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.”
And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain.
“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf.
There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.
In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all.
“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”
“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.
Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.
Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun.
“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”
She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.
“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”
You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.
She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.
Oh, what a lie forever is.
The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way.
Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season.
The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.
Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.
“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”
You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.
“Don’t give me that look.”
She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.
“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.
You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones.
Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.
The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.
“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs.
In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.
“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today.
Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.
You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.
One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later.
“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”
There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.
You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.
Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”
You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach.
Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.
Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.
Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears.
A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.
“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.
Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat.
You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.
“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.
Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”
“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.”
Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember.
There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.
His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.
But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong.
“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides.
“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”
He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.
And in Jeju– it rains.
There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time.
Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.
Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them.
Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family.
That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.
Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake.
The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable.
Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.
Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep.
Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own.
Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.
“You could come with me, you know.”
Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world.
The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”
“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”
Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.”
When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head.
“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”
Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own.
You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.
“I love you too,” you whispered back.
Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning.
“But I can’t.” you choked.
Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.
It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you.
And in Jeju– it rained.
“I think you should talk to him.”
The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.
“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.
“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”
Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair.
Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend.
Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night.
“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”
“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles.
Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”
“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.
“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”
“Four.” you correct.
“God, even worse.” he grimaces.
“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.
You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?”
You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.
The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.
“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you.
“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”
You shrug. “No, not really.”
There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.
“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”
“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”
“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.
You gape at him. “What was that for?”
Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.”
He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder.
“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”
Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.
“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?”
Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going.
“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”
Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”
Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking.
“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?”
“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater.
He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.
Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.
“Can you be honest with me?”
You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder.
“Do you love him?”
It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.
Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.
“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”
The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.
The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.
“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”
Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.
“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin.
“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”
He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others.
“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.
“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”
When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it.
Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub.
If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.
“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”
It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear.
Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.
“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”
Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias.
The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by.
Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm.
Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating.
Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this.
You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting.
Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view.
He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers.
“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.
You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”
His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance.
“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.
You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything.
You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.
“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”
Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.
“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”
You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does.
“I’m sorry that–”
“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.
“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”
“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”
The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible.
“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”
What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused.
He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away.
Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes.
Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust.
“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”
The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile.
“I waited four years for you.” you say.
“I know.”
“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”
“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”
“You lied to me.”
Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.
“I know.”
“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”
When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.
You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench.
“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”
Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul.
You’re only human, after all.
Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.
The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.
“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.
“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.
“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?”
His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.
“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!”
Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back.
“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”
“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”
Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.
“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”
Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.
The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.
“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”
He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”
“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.
Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”
“I mean, it was yours.”
“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”
You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.
You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”
He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”
Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.
He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.
He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.
His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with.
Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.
Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.
But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.
He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate.
“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”
You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.
“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.
So, naturally, you do it for him.
“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”
He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.
“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”
The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.
Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt.
“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.
“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”
You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”
Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest.
“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”
“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”
He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.
“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”
You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.
“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”
The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.
Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.
“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.”
He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.
“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”
“No, you don’t.”
Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”
You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”
By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set.
The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays.
“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”
You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”
“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”
“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”
“I was being nice!”
“Uh huh.”
“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight.
“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”
“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”
“No there isn’t!”
He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.
It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.
Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.
Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.
“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.
Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets.
It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.
“Ready?” you ask.
He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.
Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.
You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat.
The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.
Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh.
So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.
The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.
And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.
You. Him. This.
“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”
You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face.
“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”
“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”
Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.
You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further.
“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine.
“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.
“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.
Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”
“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out.
Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.
He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything.
The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.
When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat..
You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him.
“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.
“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.
“Since when did you get good at this?”
You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”
“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm.
“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”
“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.
Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics.
It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.
Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.
“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot.
“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.
“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”
“Thought so.”
“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”
“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did.
Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.
“I didn’t–”
“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’
He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.
“And the fact that you suck.”
The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.
“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”
He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.
The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.
The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points.
When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?”
“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”
The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.
“Play something good, Jisungie.”
He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.
“You got it.”
In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.
An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.
Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home.
After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.
Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.
When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true.
“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.
Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”
“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin.
You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.
“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”
He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”
“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”
Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick.
With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.
“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.
Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.
It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.
“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”
The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.
The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours.
A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.
It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life.
“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”
You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.
“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.
“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.
The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.
It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.
Things are different now.
“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”
You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.
Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.
“Hi.” you whisper against him.
One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home.
He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways.
“Hi.” he whispers back.
The apple tree is much bigger now.
Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.
It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.
It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover.
But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.
It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.
“Ji.”
“Hm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.
“Of course.”
“Am I ever gonna see you again?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
“You said that last time.”
“I know.”
“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.
When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.
He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.
It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip.
“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”
You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand.
It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual.
You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.
“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”
You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.
“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”
“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet.
There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.
Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”
“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”
“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”
“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”
“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”
“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”
He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass.
Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.
“Did you ever even love me?”
The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.
“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”
“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon.
“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no– I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”
“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”
“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”
Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”
You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.
“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.
Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment.
“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.”
Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair.
When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.
“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”
He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.
“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”
Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.
“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”
His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.
When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.
Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years later, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.
Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.
“I love you.” you say first this time.
He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony.
“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”
Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.
There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.
“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”
The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.
He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.
When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.
You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.
“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless.
“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”
“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”
“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”
“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.
You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”
“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.
“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter.
“Come on. We have to go.”
“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”
He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”
“What is that?”
“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”
Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.
“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”
“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.
“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.
“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin.
“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”
He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room.
“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.
You nod, slowly.
“Do you love him?”
Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds.
“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”
Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”
The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.
“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.
Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll send them to you.”
“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”
“I’ll manage.”
You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.
“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.
Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”
The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.
“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock.
Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving.
“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”
You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.
“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.
“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around.
“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.
He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”
“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.
“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”
He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.
With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”
Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.
“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”
The airport is crowded.
There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked.
Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle.
It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving.
It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere.
You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.
Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored.
Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”
Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.
“What– what are you doing here?” he asks.
You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say.
Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”
The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.”
He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”
You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”
Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.
“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.
You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals.
And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place.
Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips.
Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.
And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.
[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]
#skzstarnet#han x reader#jisung x reader#han jisung x reader#han angst#jisung angst#han jisung angst#han fluff#han jisung fluff#jisung fluff#han au#han jisung au#jisung au#han imagines#han jisung imagines#jisung imagines#han scenarios#han jisung scenarios#jisung scenarios#skz fluff#skz angst#skz au#skz imagines#skz scenarios#han#han jisung#jisung#han fanfic#han jisung fanfic#han fanfiction
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Is there something up with the High Valyrian wiki?
https://wiki.languageinvention.com/index.php?title=High_Valyrian_language
I've had this link bookmarked since ages. I can't seem to load the page. I've tried all sorts of browsers and it is still not working. i wanted to get back into actively learning HV again and duolingo is kinda annoying so. Is there a different page/resource the wiki has moved on to? I also seem to recall an old forum for HV with a bunch of really good resources for it. is it possible for you to provide a link? Thanks so much anyway!!
Good question! This wiki, which you can find here..
...is a labor of love—not just from me, but from a team of dedicated individuals who want to get information about my languages up somewhere more or less permanent, editable by many, and all in one place.
For years I have had a hosting plan from DreamHost. For a fixed fee, DreamHost allows you, essentially, infinite storage. I've got a dozen or so websites hosted by the same DreamHost account. I have to pay for the urls (a yearly fee; everyone pays these), but the hosting itself is covered, no matter if I had one website or a hundred.
Creating a wiki that would function like Wiktionary was my idea. I love Wiktionary, and love the idea behind it. For example, let's say you wanted to look up mate. This is an English word. It's also a subjunctive form of matar "to kill" in Spanish. It's also the word for "saliva" in Swahili. It's also "dead" in Tahitian. It's also a word in several other languages. It's kind of cool to take an abstract form—going just by spelling—and seeing that it's a word in a bunch of different languages, all with different etymologies (some related, of course. For example, mate has something to do with death in a lot of Oceanic languages. In Hawaiian it's make, which looks like an entirely different English word!).
In Dothraki, the word tor is the number four. It comes from Proto-Plains *tur (and so would be tur in Lhazareen). It's also the word for "tower" in Hen Linge (this is one of the words coined by Andrzej Sapkowski, not created by me). In Noalath, from The Shannara Chronicles, it's the word for "wolf", and in Shiväisith, the language I created for the Dark Elves from Thor: The Dark World, it's the word for "sword". While it's true I didn't create the Hen Linge word, I created the others, so you can see it's a form I'm fond of, where the shape is possible.
Anyway, that's kind of cool! And that was the point of the site.
As it happens, the High Valyrian section of the site is…massive. To give you an idea, at the moment, the wiki has over 220,000 pages. Most of those are High Valyrian pages. This is because there's a dedicated team for High Valyrian that has added pages for every single noun, adjective, and verb inflection for every existing word on the wiki. To give you an idea, every verb of High Valyrian has around 200 forms (ipradagon "to eat", ipradan "I eat", ipradā "you eat", ipradas "s/he/it eats", etc.). Every single form for every single verb has its own page. This was accomplished primarily with a program that populated the inflectional pages, but however they got there, they're there.
Certain things on the wiki are templates that need to go through and "check" every single page. Additionally, a webcrawler goes through and checks every single page on the wiki. This requires a lot of RAM. As a result, periodically, the entire website just...shuts down.
Obviously this is not cool. I asked DreamHost about it, and though we have infinite space, we don't have infinite RAM. The first step was to disable all web crawlers. You know about SEO, and how you can do things to increase the page rank of your site? Well, we needed to do the opposite. We needed to make the site disappear from the net, effectively. And we did. This is why even if you type "David J. Peterson wiki language invention" into Google you get nothing. It's like we don't exist. We're there, but you have to know we're there and go to the site specifically. That helped, but our own programs still shut things down.
The second step was to get a private server (technically a virtual private server) for the site. This cost me an extra $25 a month ($300 a year) from what I was already paying. This definitely helped, but sometimes things get to be a bit too much, and so the site still shuts down. This is what you experienced.
You know how Wikipedia begs you for money every year? It's because of this. It's one thing to create an awesome resource; it's another thing for people to actually use it.
Hosting already costs me about $250 every two years, and every year I renew the urls for about 15 websites, which is another $300 a year. If I upgrade the VPS to the next level, it's even more money every year. And that's just me paying it.
Right now, we're in an okay spot. The site shuts down every so often, but most of the time it's more or less stable. Unless I start making a lot more money regulary, that's the way it's going to stay.
So if you go to the site and it's down, I'm very sorry, but it will be back. May take a few days, but it'll come back (as long as I'm alive, anyway).
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ENHYPEN Series
sinag — psh.
chapter six
pairings: park sunghoon x reader
synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.
word count: 3k
warnings: a contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.
note: hello, i hope you will enjoy this chapter and give me feedbacks. ily and thank you for reading my works. stay safe.
eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.
“Wow! That’s a really good offer, Ae!” the joy over Lucie’s voice made you giggle. You just arrived at your shared apartment to deliver her your good news. As expected, she’s very much happy for you.
She poured you a glass of water then slid it to your side and you thanked her shortly. Both of you settled at the small dining area to talk about what just happened a while ago. Even when you’re already on your way back to your apartment, you felt like you were dreaming. You left the house with a small hope of getting the job and now you’re already hired.
“Ohh,” her lips formed ‘o’ amused at what you just said.
“The new president must be very generous then? I worked there for a year and a half! I’ve never had that kind of offer.” she continued blabbering excitedly.
You nod your head and the face of the handsome man that interviewed you flashes through your mind.
“He’s very handsome too.” you added that made Lucie smile teasingly. She giggled and you end up chuckling as well.
“Someone have a crush!” she taunts you and you are quick to defend yourself.
“No, I don’t! That’s my number one rule. Not to catch feelings with my boss or officemate.”
She pursed her lips, “Then he can be my crush! What do you think, Ae? Should I quit my job and apply there again?” her eyes looked dreamy when she stared at nowhere, daydreaming.
“You’re crazy, Lucie. You already have a nice job.” and you stood up to start cleaning around the table so you can start cooking for dinner.
She stayed seated while watching you with so much joy in her eyes. You can tell that she’s very happy for you and its unexplainable to have this kind of friendship. It’s been a while since you felt like this.
“But my boss is not a hottie.” she added that made you chuckle while shaking your head lightly.
She then started talking about something else while you start cooking your dinner. She rants about one of her colleagues and you listen to her attentively. After cooking, you two enjoys the food together. You can’t remember how and when you two started clicking this good, but you are really happy.
“Your phone’s vibrating, Ae.” your eyes darted at the left corner of the kitchen where you left your phone.
“Ohh,” you mumbled as you look over the email sent from the boss' secretary. She informs you about the things you needed to know since you will start on monday already.
“What is it?” Lucie asks curiously while putting away the cleaned dishes. Her eyes stays on you, checking your expression.
“They emailed me about my work for monday. And also,” your eyes trailed at the bottom part of the email where some details not involving your work descriptions were typed.
“Also?” Lucie sounds excited.
“The requirements I need so they can arrange the new apartment the company will provide for me.” your tone sounded small. Lucie’s eyes grew and she was cheering about the good news.
“That’s so nice! Where is it located? Will it be close to your workplace?” she struts closer to you, because she’s done already with the dishes.
A pout made it to your lips. “I don’t want to leave you here.” your tone sounded so defeated.
Lucie was the one that accepted you during your lowest times. She took you in and showed care over you despite being a total stranger to each other. Now, she means so much to you and you’ll feel so lonely if you get separated from her.
“Come with me! I’m sure the place will be spacious enough for the both of us.” you walked closer and tugged her hand, giving her a show of your puppy eyes.
Lucie stared at you for a while and chuckled. “Sure! When will we start packing?”
Your eyes grew big in so much delight as you two started jumping around like crazy girls.
“I’m so excited!” you exclaimed happily.
Nobody will believe if you told them how hopeless and miserable you are when you started your day. And now, it felt like everything’s falling in their right places. Finally, things are getting better and you feel like you can start again. This time, you will do better and focus on yourself.
“We’ll be expecting your presence in the meeting tomorrow, Mr. Park.” the person on the other line tries hard not to sound too demanding. He can feel his breath hitching, his heart pouding and the back of his head sweating.
Sunghoon remained silent for a while before he sighs, “All right.” he shortly replies and he can almost hear the sigh of relief from the other man. Not because he agrees on coming to meet him, but because he didn’t made the mafia boss upset.
Sunghoon drops the call and rests his back over his swivel chair. Moments later, he heard the door of his office burst open, followed by steps from more than one people.
“M-Miss, Mr. Park strictly ordered not to accept any visitor! Miss!” he opened his eyes and watch how a girl wearing a puffy pink jacket, paired with a tube and mini skirt walks inside his office. Behind her was his secretary looking so worried and scared of the consequences she might face.
“Mr. P-Park I tried stopping her but—”
“Shut up!”
Sunghoon sighs and dismissed his secretary. She bowed, clearly terrified after she was screamed at. The girl rolled her eyes as she glances back at Sunghoon.
“What are you doing here, Luna?” he asks and plays with his pen. He stared at her with no emotion over his eyes, bored and unamused with her unannounced visit.
She clenched her fist while holding her small Hermes bag. “You didn’t show up last night at the party.” she looked so upset and anger ooze from her eyes.
Sunghoon remained the same, unbothered. He kept playing on his pen and then tilts his head a little, staring dead at her.
“Why would I?”
His response made her even more angry. She hates how he ditched her last night. She hates that he seems unbothered about it. She hates that he’s treating her this way when clearly she doesn’t deserve this. And she really hates that despite his rude attitude towards her, she still want him.
“Because you are my fiance.” she confidently stated and kept her chin up at him.
Sunghoon scoffs without humor and it made her nibble over her lower lip. Insulted, that’s what the bitter feeling that he’s giving to her at the moment.
“No, I’m not. I never agreed to it.” he sighed, getting bored of this conversation.
“Your Father promised my family that he will—”
“My father’s words are his and that’s out of my concern. Leave me out of it because I have no intention of getting involve with you or even,” he trailed hise eyes from her face down to her feet. “marry you.” he continued that felt like a straight stab of a knife to her heart.
“Sunghoon!”
“You should go. I’m pretty busy.” he dismissed her like nothing.
Her eyes teared up, “You can’t keep doing this! My Father will not let you mistreat me this way! You’re putting both of our families in a hard position!”
“If you’re not planning to leave, then I will.” he stood up, towering over her figure. She kept her glares at him, tears starting to stream down her pretty face.
When he was about to walk pass her, she grabbed his arm.
“Stop hoping for that girl because she’s not here.”
Sunghoon clenched his jaw before slowly facing her direction. The darkness in his eyes sent shivers to Luna’s system. Her hand slowly retrieved out of fear. The atmosphere felt heavy and suffocating, she knew he was pissed and she’s scared.
“Don’t ever touch me.” he muttered sternly before walking away and after he left the room, Luna manages to finally breath.
Fear slowly drained off of her and now she’s pissed again over him. But most of all, she’s mad at that girl Sunghoon’s obsessing on. She couldn’t wait to meet her face to face so she can kill her herself. She’s the main reason why he couldn’t see her love for him.
“This will be your office. Let me know if you need something else.” your eyes carefully roamed around the spacious office you are taken to.
It looked so simple yet cozy. You have a private space for yourself so it was just perfect. Tho, you couldn’t feel a little suspicious and curious as to why everything about this company is just... favorable to you. A side of you are glad that finally, you have a job again, but the other part of you are feeling so warry of the situation. It felt like you managed to get all of these so easily. The unknown thought kept living at the back of your mind and the worry of something heavy awaiting is somehow haunting you.
“Aelia?” you snapped back to reality when she calls your name softly after noticing that you are silent for a while.
“Is there something wrong? Did you not like it? We can try to check the other office beside this—” you quickly stops her and smiled.
“This is perfect! Thank you so much, I’m just overwhelmed.” her eyes scanned your face, like checking if you’re really saying the truth.
“Are you sure? The office beside this is vacant and more spacious.” she stated.
You smiled even wider, “This is already enough for me, thank you. Besides, I’m just new to this company. I should earn my position first.”
She was caught off-guard when you said that and suddenly realized that maybe she’s overdoing things. The boss did personally asked her to take good care of you and to make sure you have everything that you need. Even if she’s a little confused and curious why the boss is so fond of you, she refrain from sticking her nose into it. After-all, Jake Sim won’t really like it whenever someone else gets in between. Working for him for years already gave her those knowledge.
“O-Okay! Your place is already ready as well. You can move to it right away as you please.”
The delight on your eyes are obvious as you thanked her right away, flashing those pretty smile.
“U-Uhm, can I ask something?” you looked hesitant, but Jake’s secretary gave you her all attention.
“Can my friend move in with me?” you’re a little embarrassed to even ask it to her. They’ve been very good to you and it worries you that they might take this request differently.
To your surprise, she smiled.
“I will ask the boss about it and get back to you, is that okay?”
You nodded your head and thanked her for it. She left you afterwards since she still have a lot of things to do and also so you can look around your office building too. You are having a great time actually. Just thinking about this new opportunity in your life gives you so much hope and happiness.
“Mr. Sim?” his secretary answered his call.
Jake’s currently at the lobby of the airport that owned by Sunghoon, waiting for his flight. He lazily flips the pages of the magazine he randomly picked from the small table beside him.
“Did she arrived already? What does she think of her office?” he asks right away.
Normally, new employees doesn’t get an office all for herself. They have cubicles meant for them, but Jake wants you to be very comfortable as much as possible. After-all, your future man now owns that company you’re working in. He just handed Jake the check last night and he was very delighted about it. It was a very good deal even if his friend cursed him nonstop.
Jake chuckles at the memory.
“Yes, sir. I made sure I prepared everything that she needs.”
“Good. Remember what I asked you to do, all right?” he reminds her.
”Noted, Sir.”
He was about to end the call when she talks again. “Mr. Sim, I have something to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Ms. Aelia asked me if she can take her friend when she moves to her new place?”
Jake pursed his lips and tilts his head over to the side. “Is it a guy friend or a girl?”
It took a while before she responds.
“She didn’t really mention it, Sir.”
He took his time to reply and just sighs. Ni-ki’s been investigating you right after they found you. He did mentioned that you had a boyfriend, but he said that you ended it with him as he had seen your ex-boyfriend fooling around with some other girls.
Ni-ki also did mentioned that you didn’t have many friends. Also distant with your parents for some unknown reason and now living independently.
“Okay, you can ask her if its a girl or a boy. If its a girl, she can do it. If its a boy, don’t allow her.” he says calmly.
‘Don’t let her move in with a male friend or else his life will be in grave danger once his dear friend found out about it.’ Jake thought to himself.
“Noted, Mr. Sim.”
“Okay, that’s all. I just called to know if she settled in well.”
“C-Can I ask something a little personal, Sir?”
Jake tilts his head and hand unconsciously taps over the magazine after what he heard. He doesn’t really like when people he isn’t close with steps over his line of boundary. But since he just received a big check, he’s in a little good mood.
“What?”
“Do y-you perhaps like Ms. Aelia?”
Jake pursed his lips and almost laugh out loud. He couldn’t believe he’s being asked with this question. But he couldn’t really blame her for misunderstanding his actions. She probably have an impression of him being cold and distant with his employees. Then suddenly he’s been doing so much favor for this new hired.
“No.” he sighs, “I don’t want to be killed by Park Sunghoon.” he whispers under his breath that he’s sure she missed.
“Let’s just say she’s a very important person for my friend so I’m doing him a very big favor.” he added.
“Okay, Sir. Sorry for asking.”
Jake didn’t say anything else and just bid good bye with her. He ended the call and stared at his phone for a while.
He knew how much you mean to Sunghoon and so he’s just trying to help him. His friend went through a lot of things just to find you, now that he did. He needs to keep you safe until Sunghoon’s done with what he’s planning. After that, he will have to do something for you and him to meet.
Jake smirks, couldn’t help but to feel so excited for what’s about to unfold in the future. His eyes caught the big screen when it flashes some of the pilots from the airport and a smirk spreads across his face when Sunghoon’s face flashes through the screen.
“Damn, who will trust a pilot with really bad anger issues?” he clicked his tongue and chuckles before grabbing his things to go leave for his flight.
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hey, i hope you’re doing okay. just wanted to let you know how much of a meaning your presence has had to me over the years, you were the first christian I ever encountered who embodied gods love&life in a way that felt truly alive&free. ik things are tough from time to time&online presence probably feels like very little,but just wanted to thank you for being you & doing what you do. youve helped my relationship with god&the world, and also helped me to take hold of&reinterpret xnity in a more constructive&loving towards/within the world way compared with what I grew up under (im completing a philosophy&theo degree soon lol). i pray that you&your loved ones stay well in mind, soul&body <3 also, if it’s not too much trouble, could I ask for prayer for a friend of mine who’s been struggling with depression&suicidality for a while? unfortunately psychotherapeutic&pharmaceutical interventions have stopped working for her& I’d appreciate any extra prayer.
god bless you & have a wonderful day!
You are so kind. Your words are so very precious to me. My loved ones and I have gone through heartache recently but are slowly healing. I am so incredibly grateful for your prayers.
Of course I will pray for your beloved friend. Depression is a very frightening experience personally and communally. I pray that your friend finds the hope that she needs during this time. And I pray that you are also comforted as well.
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Not sure if anyone has asked this yet, but do you have any opinions on the “Sayaka bad ending” of the PMMM portable game? The specific ending shows what happens when a magical girl (who lost their soul gem) gets their gem back after being left long enough to have begun decaying. It’s a pretty freaky concept and lives rent free in my head.
Also in the time it took for you to read this I have devoured 30% of your art and left no crumbs/pos your work is incredible
I often think about it because that ending seems much more cruel than the one she got in the actual show. Not only does it demonstrate Sayaka’s actual corpse shuffle and scares her crush away, the way she murmurs about how “he said I wasn’t Sayaka Miki, even though I am Sayaka Miki” just feeds into the dichotomy she has from her ordinary student self and her identity as a magical girl because her self-perception is distorted by the latter. <- The effects of being a puella magi caught up and spilled into her other identities. Then she starts freaking out at the end because she was holding her own grief seed, asking and pleading the other characters, before desperately insisting she was still a magical girl of justice was very unnerving. It’s practically burned into my mind.
Why is everyone eating my art…don’t you know food poisoning is a thing./lh Thank you so much for the ask and kind words! ♪( ´θ｀)ノ
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[Bake Bread] 1/2
Minecraft Single Player! Yuu AU
Summary: Yuu baked(?) bread for Azul.
Yuu has insanely fast-growing wheat on their farm located at Ramshackle grounds. Azul has been so, so shifty about wanting to own the property, but he has continuously and fabulously failed at acquiring it.
But what kind of business man is Azul to give up on such an opportunity? Wheat can take up to 2/3rds of the year to grow, but the wheat this abnormal student plants takes approximately 1 and a half days to be completely grown! Not only that, it is beautifully, so beautifully consistent in its quality.
Yes, sure, there are PLENTY of magic agriculture brands that sell amazingly consistent produce, but this wheat? This wheat is terrifyingly accurate to the industry standard. Azul had to confirm to his two associates that no, he was in fact not tripping balls ("You are MALDING over overrated grass, Azul. You sound just like Jade.")
Just to confirm that he wasn't insane, he had gotten his hands on some legally obtained samples of the wheat (He politely asked for a bundle of wheat from Yuu with a contract where he promised to not commercialize nor generate defamation/slander associated with Yuurmom because of the wheat.) and had Jade take it to his Science Club to study it.
Even according to that Heartsyabul Clover, he was thoroughly impressed at the remarkably consistent quality of the wheat.
Trey had kindly indulged Jade's questions about the wheat, explaining one of the most business-booming, profit-generating, game-breaking facts about this produce
This wheat does not expire.
It doesn't expire? Are you kidding? No preservatives, no drying processes, no water rot, none? None at all?
As Clover explains, "Uhh, yeah. It doesn't go bad even when carried around for months. Yuu gifted me some, but I don't exactly know how to process wheat into flour, so it's been sitting in the pantry for some time now. I've been wanting to put it to use though, so this week I'll be meeting with Deuce, Epel, and Jack to help me process it."
So yeah, Azul is definitely NOT crazy for losing his mind over this farm that Yuu has going on. If he can have Yuu make a contract with him to exclusively sell their harvests to Mostro Lounge, he'd be booming! Fast crops, no preservatives, no need to watch for shelf life, do you even understand what kind of miracle crop this student has?!
When Azul comes knocking at Yuu's door once more, he is greeted with the expected presence of the Ramshackle Housewarden, but also a basket of... Flatly stacked pixelated bread?
"Why, Yuu, I wasn't aware you enjoy my company so much!"
"Come in. Bread, eat."
Azul is slightly surprised by the sudden hospitality, but accepts it to see if he can further his advances in getting his hands on those crops.
Upon being seated in the common room, Yuu takes one of the breads from the basket and begins to eat it in their really loud and strange way. Crumbs are flying everywhere, yet not one speck actually makes it onto the couch or floor. Azul wishes he could forget the way Yuu tried to eat the food at Mostro Lounge for the first time.
Jade sets the plate down, and gives a simple smile, "Please enjoy your food." Deuce and Ace usher various forms of a curt "Thanks." before digging in, but Yuu continues to stare at the plate in front of them. Ace raises an eyebrow, but before he got to make a snarky comment, Yuu grabs their Sirloin Steak with Mushroom Sauce and Stir-Fried Vegetables with their bare hand and proceeds to begin ripping at it.
Ripping is not a strong enough word to describe their eating process, Yuu's mouth was barely open yet there were steak shreds and mushroom sauce flying everywhere. The two little card soldiers were trying to fend themselves from the food splatter onslaught, Jade was collapsed to his knees trying to hold in his laughter, Floyd dropped the food he was supposed to serve in opt of releasing howling laughter, and Azul felt like crawling into a ditch.
.. Maybe this was a more prominent memory for Azul than he initially thought.
But! Azul has persisted through worse, really strange eating mannerisms do not compare to the Leech's impulsive personalities. Therefore, this is nothing.
"So, Housewarden, how do you fare? I can see that this place has recently been cleaned well, was that your doing?"
The sounds of disconcertingly loud bread munching fill the room for a solid 4 seconds. Yuu is staring straight at Azul, and Azul stares back. Azul dully notes that their pupils are square-shaped. He's aware of slit eyes and horizontally slit eyes, as evidenced by goat beastfolk, but he's unsure if a person with square pupils is simply born like that or had an extreme cosmetic surgery.
Yuu audibly gulps and burps after finishing their loaf, the bread vanishing from their hand with the blink of an eye.
There are a lot of things running through Azul's mind right now, but his goal was not forgotten. Get closer with Yuu, get that wheat, make business boom. Thus, he slightly extends his hand out to the basket of pixelated bread that is stacked upon each other like cards, "Mind if I have some?"
Yuu nods, so Azul reaches out with his gloved hand to take one of the reasonably sized hard-as-rock pixelated loaves of bread.
He goes in with two hands to rip the bread in half, but finds that it is rock solid. Of course it is. It is a physical slab of a pixelated graphic of a loaf of bread. Azul feels a bit stupid. ("Of course you are, normie! You should've expected that!")
Despite the failed first attempt, Azul tries to rip at it once more with more force. Fingertips pressed into the slab, he pulls his arms away from each other horizontally in a final attempt.
rrrip
Rip? Azul looks at the now split pieces of bread in his hands, and the previous rock-solid pixelated graphic has turned into actual bread.
Azul blinks. He looks at the basket of bread, and the pixel graphic was still there stacked neatly. Bringing his arms back, he observes the bread in his hands that looks to be an ordinary, warm, freshly baked loaf of bread that bore no resemblance to what he initially held in his hands prior to tearing it.
"You ever eat bread before?"
Azul nearly whips his head up to look at Yuu, who's unconcerning gaze never left him.
Pushing up his glasses, Azul speaks, "I assure you I know of bread, Housewarden. I was simply wondering.."
There are a lot of questions Azul wants to ask, those related and unrelated to the current situation, but he pulls through and selects a question that would give him more insight to the Housewarden's stranger properties.
"I was thinking about how you made this. It's still fresh and warm after all. I didn't know the oven in here was operable, no offense to you and your skilled craftsmanship."
Yuu shrugs, "Just 3 wheat, bread made."
Azul blinks.
"Do you mean 3 pounds of wheat? That's quite a lot of crop to process."
"No. 3 wheat makes 1 bread."
Azul Ashengrotto is one of the youngest genius businessmen to enter the world. His thorough work and sound words carry his reputation as smoothly as sea currents, letting all know of his benevolence and charm. However, such skill was not born from nothing. The young man had persisted through harder times, fought his way to the top, wrangling only the best of deals and people to keep his position rising, an experienced businessman as he is no stranger to challenge.
However, interacting with this abnormal Housewarden has somehow managed to shake the reality and logic of such a esteemed man more than thrice.
".. Do you mind explaining what that means, Housewarden? I feel that you might be referring to a unit of measurement from your home, which I'm unfortunately not familiar with."
Continued in part 2
#twst au#twst yuu#mcsingleplayer yuu au#disney twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#azul ashengrotto#azul twst#azul twisted wonderland#twst azul
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