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#but MAN if you like a bit of angst then go for it
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I Want You to Stay (14) - FINALE (JJK)
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of trauma & family drama; lots of fluff; explicit sexual content (lots of making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, un/protected sex)  (18+)
Chapter Word count: 32.8k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Complete
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
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A/N: And then it ends! Please bear with the length of this final chapter - it felt right to finish the series with all this 🤭 This was so satisfying to write despite the emotional roller coaster, and I just want to thank you for sticking with me through this and showing me/it so much love. It's a fanfic writer bucket list of mine to write boss JK! I hope you enjoy! 🥰 Like I've said before, I have plans for season 2, but I don't know if I'll actually be able to write it so 🤞🏽
And like always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight for listening to me talk about this for months. 💕
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## 
Your heavy eyes flutter open before they close again, and for the briefest moment, you think you see Jungkook smiling at you, his doe eyes gazing at your sleeping form. You do it again, and right after your eyes fall shut, you feel soft lips on your bare shoulder, his warm breath heating your shivering body. 
His absence causes you to quiver, but you’re too tired to move. Even if you weren’t, you probably wouldn’t be able to pull the covers over you, not when you have the said man leaving kisses down your spine and then back up to peck on your exposed cheek. Yet no matter how tempting it is to return them, your mind decides it just needs a bit more time to wake up, and so does your sore body that feels like it ran a marathon that you just weren’t trained for.
Because much as you took on Jungkook’s challenge last night about being able to have sex all night, as it turns out, you’re the one who couldn’t do it.
He first had you on top of him, kneading your ass and directing your movements while he pounded on you from below. The way he felt from that angle had your stomach in knots, and when he wrapped his arms around you to keep you steady while he tried to go deeper as he sucked and licked your neck, you were a goner. 
You were on your back before you knew it. And while he aided you in coming down from your high through languid kisses and licks on your mouth, it wasn’t long before he had you keening again. His tongue lapped up your folds and swirled around your sensitive nub, and despite your mind feeling numb by then, your cunt throbbed for him. It wasn’t long before he was inside you again, thrusting into you fervently before slowing the pace and taking you more gently. 
The way he grunted as you whispered for him to come suddenly rings in your mind. Coupled with his morning kisses all over your body, you moan in pleasure, and he hasn’t even done much yet. 
Perhaps it’s also because of these luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets that are making you feel like you’re in heaven. Or the fact that they smell so good, too, like fresh laundry but more delicate, and all you want is to drown in this softness. So you do something close and bury your face on the pillow while you remain flat on your belly. You take a deep breath and release it with another moan.
“Sounds like someone slept well, huh?” You hear him chuckle, his mouth now detaching from your skin. 
“You tired me out, Jungkook,” you hum, your eyes still closed as you bask in the comfort of his bed. “Why are you even awake?”
“Because I always wake up early. And it’s past 10,” he reasons. “I went for a run then hit the gym. I figured you’d be awake by now and well… you aren’t.”
“I—”
Your mind slightly catches some life as you hear that he’d just done a workout, so you take a peak and the sight doesn’t disappoint. He stands by the bedside with only his track pants on, his hands in his pockets with damp hair while he looks on as you slowly twist and turn on the bed. 
“I—” you repeat.
“You don’t have to get up if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I woke you,” he says softly. 
You catch on to his apologetic tone and it’s what forces you awake. You know he’s used to starting his day early and you… you’re used to burying yourself in your bed until you have to get up to eat. Having someone to spend your days with is probably something you’re both gonna have to start getting used to.
Your eyes finally open and stay that way, and despite his sweat having dried already, Jungkook still looks like he’s glowing against the late morning sun that’s shining through his bedroom window. You shift yourself and sit up, suddenly hyper aware of how naked you are… in his bedroom, and for a brief moment, you think it was all in your head. 
With the sheets finally covering your body, you look at him, prompting him to sit on the edge of the bed and smile at you. You take his hand and caress the fingers that held you, that gave you pleasure, that traced patterns on your skin that you feel are now etched in its memory. 
“Last night wasn’t a dream,” you utter, as if proclaiming it to the universe, as if claiming this reality for yourself. 
“It better not be,” he laughs, softening when you do. “You, uh, you found me.”
“Well, you did tell me where to go,” you point out.
“Yes, unlike you,” he counters, recalling how your letter had just told him to find you with no instructions of where.
Your pout makes him laugh and it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, one you didn’t know when you’d hear again. But you give him a pass because he’s right, and all you want to do is make it up to him for making these past few weeks quite unbearable.
But he gets to you first, as he kisses your cheek. There’s adoration mixed with shyness in his eyes and tenderness with his every touch. You wouldn’t say it’s something you didn’t expect despite his usual detachment, but it strikes you just how much of this softness has been hiding underneath. You’ve seen him be protective of you and be caring, but this side of him is new. You suppose being mellow and giggly comes naturally once he’s allowed himself to be vulnerable and open up. Maybe it’s also just a result of last night’s events.
He removes the strands of your hair that had stuck to your face, and it dawns on you again that it’s morning and you had indeed just woken up. You whine that you’ve got crusty eyes and morning breath so you create some distance, but he just laughs and says he doesn’t care one bit.
“You’re pretty even in the morning,” he adds.
Jungkook watches you nibble your lips as you try to suppress a smile that you make anyway. When you’re bold about what you want from him, something inside him stirs, a certain kind of desire that explodes because he wants to fulfill your need, to make you feel good, to let you know that you affect him the same way. 
But when you’re shy the way you are right now, as if you’re still trying to wrap your head around your new reality with him, giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush, he wants to just hold you in his arms and keep you there. Something softens in him because you - strong and stubborn you - gets flustered because of him. The competent and confident woman he knows suddenly doesn’t know what to say when he calls her pretty, which he’s glad he’s able to verbalize now. It used to be a thought that just constantly rang in his head, but one he tried so hard to quell. He gets to say it to you with confidence from now on and he’ll be able to say it everyday. 
Once your face settles with a comfortable smile, he sighs in contentment, once again feeling like that dark cloud that hovered over him for years has gone away. Things used to feel so heavy as he wandered around an unknown place he's been in for so long, not knowing where to go. It’s as if the days just passed him by and he’d forgotten how he spent them because there wasn’t really much that he looked forward to. 
Now he does, and he realized it when he woke up this morning and found you lying next to him. You were in deep sleep with your lips just slightly parted. Your hands were curled under your chin as you laid on your side, and there was this calmness on your face that gave him so much relief. 
He felt light; he felt the darkness subside, too, and the unknown place he’d been wandering about suddenly looked familiar, yet it was still somehow new. There was that feeling of safety, of clarity, like he could do or be anything with you around. Those were things you gave him when you were still his assistant, and he gets to feel them again now that you’re so much more than that. 
“What?” You ask, nudging him with your foot as he briefly zones out just thinking about all the things he wants to do with you. 
“I was just savoring the look of you being flattered,” he hums. “It’s kinda cute.”
“Oh shush,” you laugh. “I’m just not used to it.”
“Well, it’s not like I could just say you’ll looked pretty when I was still your boss,” he points out. 
“True,” you nod. “Good thing you aren’t anymore, then.”
“Exactly. So you’re just gonna have to get used to it.”
He looks at you as if it’s a warning, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.
“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you whisper to tease.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I want to kiss you right now.”
“Don’t tell me that turned you on!” You gasp, giggling now as he shakes his head.
“Only if you say it like that!” He whines, the sultry tone of your voice echoing in his ears. “You know what, I’m gonna take a shower.”
“And I’m gonna brush my teeth so you can kiss me all you want!”
“I’m gonna have to get used to that, too,” he smiles.
“Well, it’s not like I could say that to you when I was still your assistant,” you repeat his words.
“And good thing you aren’t anymore, Ms. Cho,” he laughs, not wanting to get carried away right now.
You laugh as well before he leaves to take a shower. You give yourself this quiet time on your own to process where you are at this moment. You’re in a room you used to enter everyday, and your mere glances made you curious about what Jungkook kept in his personal space. 
You’re here now, and you see that there’s really not much, other than a floor-to-ceiling window, a television, a bar cart, and a couch. He’s got an interesting light fixture and abstract art on the wall. His decorative pieces consist of small sculptures and framed buildings, but there are no photos or other mementos. You suppose he’s not really the type, and that just makes you hope that you can help him add a bit of personal touch so that his room could feel more comfortable, or maybe add a bit of warmth to an otherwise cold, monochromati space. You decide that’s something you’ll eventually figure out. 
You take your phone from the bedside and finally reply to your mom and your friends with more details about last night. You merely told them that you and Jungkook have made up, but it’s just today that you’re telling them how it happened. 
He converted the archives section to a children’s library, you say in your message. Found him in his office, we talked, and I spent the night at his place. That’s all for now. I’ll talk to you soon.
Soomin’s barrage of excited curses is immediate. Jimin says he’s happy for you. And your mom sends you a heart emoji and tells you to stay happy.
You send a message to Yoongi, too, saying that you found Jungkook and that now you can learn what your heart is capable of. You thank him again, even if you know that those words will never be enough.
Standing from the bed, you head to the bathroom to finally wash up, thinking that it’ll take a while more before Jungkook finishes. You brush your teeth as you face the mirror, seeing his silhouette behind the frosted glass of the shower enclosure from the reflection. He exits before you finish, and you slow your movements once he comes into view, naked and all wet, and somehow even more breathtakingly handsome than usual. 
You try to act unbothered as you wash your face, only glancing up to see him with a towel around his waist and another one that he uses to dry his hair. The flex of his tattooed arm brings back memories from last night when it was propped up on your side, supporting his body while he thrusted relentlessly inside you. You gripped that arm when he went deeper, and it was the same one that held you when you started drifting off to sleep. 
He stands behind you and gives you a boyish smile before wrapping his arms around your waist. You jerk a little in surprise but soften when his chin rests on your shoulder, and the way he looks comfortable and content has your heart soaring at this side of him - bold and vulnerable as he expresses the things he feels for you in action.
“Can I do this?” He asks as he buries his face in your neck.
“Jungkook, we’ve done a lot in the last 12 hours,” you remind him. “Why are you asking permission to hug me?”
“I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You turn around to face him and look at him questioningly, unable to follow. You’d think that given all that you’ve both done, simple affection like this is far from overwhelming. 
“What I mean is… Sex is sex. With you, it’s meaningful and intimate. We’re so lost in the feeling of desire and all that but this…” he says, wrapping your arms around him as if to explain. “This… this is a different kind of intimate. Waking up next to each other, morning kisses, random hugs… they say something else.”
“And that is?” You ask after a beat of silence, needing that quiet to take in his words.
“That I want you beyond all that lust and that high,” he answers. “And this… This takes more from us. And I know that because this used to scare me. This… I don’t know, vulnerability I guess? Having someone next to me while I sleep, being the first thing they see in the morning, doing ordinary things with them like taking a shower or something. Holding their hand. Hugging them because it just feels right. I don’t know if I’m making sense but—”
“You are,” you interject, knowing exactly what he means. 
You used to say how you were intimate with the men you dated but you couldn’t say that you shared intimacy with them. It was such an abstract concept for you. That familiarity, that emotional connection, that feeling of safety and belongingness, and of certainty and clarity seemed so intangible. 
There’s a reason why you never had them over at your place, why you could sleep and wake up next to them in their homes but prefer to spend the rest of the day by yourself or with your friends. There’s a reason why you were cautious about the personal things you shared, about your dreams and fears, why you never let them close enough to know how to love you. Something was always lacking and a part of that was because you never allowed yourself to give them more than what they could touch. Your body was as far as they could go; your heart was a restricted place that no one could enter.
Until Jungkook, and suddenly that intimacy is something tangible. You can feel it when his arms are around you, you can hear it in his giggles, you can see it in his smile, you can smell it as he stands a breath away, and you can taste it in his mouth, one that welcomes you in when you kiss him tenderly. You know there’ll be more ways that it will be tangible to you, that it’ll be something real and definite, something your mind could at least try to grasp. And he’s right - doing this takes more from you than sex for the sake of it ever could. 
You’re letting someone into a place you’ve kept to yourself for so long. And that itself could be quite disorienting and overwhelming. He gets it because it’s something he’s probably done before, and he’s doing it again now.
You tell him with the way you kiss him that you get it, too. You tell him by the way you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer that that’s where you want him, and that he’s settled in your heart so suddenly yet so certainly that you don’t want him to go anywhere. 
You’re content with this. You feel your need for pleasure heighten, you feel that slight throbbing of your cunt and the need for friction, you feel that desire course through your veins but you’re satisfied with this intimacy you share. You say it with how tenderly your fingers graze his face, with how your hand gently rests on his bare chest, and with how your movements remain slow, focused on the feel of him more than anything else.
He understands your contentment, too, and he says it with how he follows your pace, with how he softly palms your bare thighs, and with how he nibbles your lips in affection. You both pull away to get some air but he tells you, too, through his soft kisses on your cheeks and your forehead before a final one on your nose that this is enough, and that right now, this is all he needs. 
“I bought breakfast,” he tells you as he takes your hand in his then leads you out of the bathroom. He grabs a pair of shorts from his closet while you watch on. “I got those street toasts and some pastries. I’ll warm them up and heat the coffee. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” you respond, giddy at the thought that he bought those for you. You mentioned in passing last night that you’ve missed eating them after being at your mom’s place for much of the week. “You still don’t have anything in your fridge or your pantry.”
“Exactly. So uh, I was thinking we could go do some groceries today and I can make something for you for a change, and no, the eggs on toast that one time don’t count.”
You’re endeared by the shy look on his face, and it’s not really one you can say no to. 
“Sure, that would be nice,” you smile. 
“I was hoping you’d, uh, stay the night again. And again. I canceled work for the team on Monday but I have to meet Hoseok and my father. Maybe I should cancel that, too.”
“And tell them, what? That you’re gonna be with me?” You chuckle. “That’s not happening. This… this can’t come between you and your job, okay?” You remind him, as you don’t want your newly formed relationship to negatively affect him, especially after all the work he’s done to be what he is now. “Work comes first. I’ll always understand.”
“It goes both ways,” he hums, as he sets the food in front of you. “So, when do you start your new job?”
“Next Monday,” you answer. “Which reminds me… I have to shop for trousers and dresses.”
“So, a wardrobe change, huh?” He asks, placing the cup of coffee and glass of water on the table before taking the seat next to you. 
“Sort of. The pencil skirts feel restrictive. Plus, every time we ate out, I was always scared that the zipper would pop or something,” you laugh. 
“It always felt odd that that was the recommended outfit for assistants,” he says. “I liked them on you though… respectfully speaking.”
You playfully shake your head at his statement, but he defends that they always paired well with your pastel-colored blouses that he claims bring out the color of your eyes. 
“Well, I’ll still be using those. I just need to pair them with something else less formal.”
“We can go shopping today then,” he suggests. “Not unless that’s something you want to do on your own. I understand if it is. I mean, I… I don’t want to impose.  I… I didn’t even ask you what you wanted to do today.”
“I didn’t really have anything in mind. My weekends are usually just spent doing chores and errands or watching stuff at home or in my local theater,” you say. “Not unless my friends visit or I go home. Other than that I just… do whatever I feel like on my own. And you? What do you usually do on weekends?” 
“Work, gym, drink, watch sports, sleep,” he chuckles, recalling those days of loneliness and nothingness, which really wasn’t that long ago. “Meet my parents if I have to, hang out with my friends if I’m in the mood.”
“And go to the clubs?” You cock an eyebrow. 
“Yeah, I guess,” he hums, knowing what you’re alluding to. “I do it less frequently now, though. I just go there to catch up with them then I go home. Don’t you do that, too?”
“Only when Jimin and Soomin are here. Socialite stuff, you know?” You explain.
“I guess,” he shrugs. “But we can do anything you want today. It’s up to you.”
“Okay, then shopping it is,” you smile at him, thinking it’s something fun that you could do together. 
You think anything with him would be, and it excites you to know that many of the things you used to do alone is something you could now share and do with him. Maybe you could even do something new, like some outdoor activity or go to the arcades or even do a ghost tour just because.
But something ordinary like going to the groceries and shopping for new clothes are things you want to experience with him, too. They’re those intimate acts that he talked about earlier - simple and mundane, yet special and comfortable. 
As you watch him in his plain shirt and shorts with his legs spread out as he sits on the chair beside you, and with him asking if you’re full and if there’s anything else you want, you think about all the days you’d spent on your own. There was always a certain kind of peace you felt then; you were alone but you weren’t lonely. 
There were days when it got to you though, as you thought that it was probably nice to have someone to share a meal with, to laugh with as you watched your variety shows, and to lay next to as you talked about your day. You dwelled on the scenes that played in your head only briefly, knowing that there wasn’t anyone in your life then that you wanted to do those simple, mundane things with. 
But with Jungkook here with you now, sharing those with someone does seem to require a level of vulnerability you hadn’t really thought about. You’re letting him in a space that’s always just had you in it, doing things that gave you peace, that gave you energy, that gave you those bits of happiness. He’ll no longer just be getting a peek into the world you carved for yourself; he’ll now truly be a part of it. And you want him to know that even if it may seem like it’s overwhelming, you welcome him completely.
“What you said earlier about not wanting to overwhelm me,” you start, “I… I appreciate that. This isn’t just a new side of you I’m experiencing. This is also a new side of myself that I’m getting to know, that I’m going to get used to.”
“I know. And I understand that,” he responds, turning to face you now. “People bring out parts of ourselves that we didn’t know we had. Or forgotten we had.”
“I guess. I’ve just… I’ve just never had a proper relationship before, you know? I’ve dated people but there were sides of me I didn’t wanna show, and there were things that I couldn’t really bring myself to do.”
“Such as?”
“Lingering,” you say after a beat of silence. “Little forms of affection that you mindlessly do,” you continue, fiddling with his fingers. “And meeting the parents. That was always too much for me.”
“Well, you’ve met mine,” he points out. “You knew them before you even knew me.”
There’s no bitterness in his voice but you’re reminded of the secret you kept, and that it’s something you still haven’t really acknowledged.
“I’m sorry about keeping that from you,” you bow your head. “I didn’t plan on deceiving you or anything. And I didn’t think it mattered. It only did once I started liking you. And I got too caught up with what I felt that I didn’t tell you right away.”
“Hey, you had your reasons,” he nudges your knee so you’d look at him. You look up and see the softness in his eyes. “And I’ll never fault you for them. You did what you had to do and I’m just glad you stayed long enough for us to meet again. I admit I… I thought that maybe you mistook your feelings for loyalty. That you cared because you thought you had to. And I’m sorry I did.”
“You had your reasons, too,” you answer. “And I’m sorry that’s what you thought after I kept it all from you. But it wasn’t hard to care about you, Jungkook,” you smile now. “What was hard was stopping myself from doing so. Even your parents noticed that. I guess I don’t have to prove that to them anymore. I’d like to think that with all the talks I had with your father, they already approve of me being with their son.”
His shy smile makes you feel giddy, as he bites his lip and the little dip on his cheek turns up. 
“Well, I hope that your mom approves of me being with her daughter after that one talk with her,” he says worriedly. 
“After expressing your feelings for me like that? Of course she does,” you giggle. “She told me not to go back to the house unless I’m with you so… yes, she definitely approves.”
“That’s a relief. I mean, after everything I put you through?”
His face falls a little and you’re starting to learn that he needs assurance every once in a while. So you give it to him, as you surprise him by sitting on his lap and cupping his face with your hands. 
“We put each other through a lot but we’re together now,” you remind him. “We’re done with being idiots.”
“We are,” he chuckles, agreeing with Yoongi and Mr. Ri who fondly and frustratingly called you that. “But your mother might be serious about not welcoming you back there until I’m with you so let’s schedule that trip, okay? Maybe I could meet her husband, too?”
“They’re not actually married,” you sigh, shifting so that you’re leaning on his chest now. “They’ve been together for over 10 years and Min-woo has even proposed but she doesn’t think marrying is necessary. They’re committed, they’re happy, she treats Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin like her daughters. This… this family is all they need, not a marriage. Plus, it’s quite expensive to do that and she’s just being practical.”
 “Do you agree with her?”
“I guess,” you shrug. “I mean, what else is stronger than love? Than committing your whole self to that person?”
“Committing the rest of your life to them,” Jungkook responds.
He knows it’s not easy though. He’d seen his parents drift apart but he also saw them stand by each other after all that. Maybe they had to because that’s what commitment means - it’s an obligation, a duty; it gives the person no choice but to stay. But then again, after speaking to them more regularly these past weeks, he’s seen their little acts of care and support for each other, of understanding and trust. Perhaps commitment is also that devotion, that promise and constancy, that tangibility of connection and permanence.  
“Maybe,” you hum. “I think it’s just a fear that she never really got over. Her parents divorced. My biological father had plans of marrying her only to leave before I was born. She says she doesn’t want to taint what she already has with Min-woo over some symbolic act that’s hurt her twice before. And I don’t blame her. Things hurt us and then… we just get scared. It’s human nature, I think.”
“That’s true. I… I’m proof of that,” he whispers, as if in shame. 
“So am I,” you utter, shifting now so you can look at him again in assurance. “It wasn’t even my pain I carried; it was hers. But that still kept me from accepting good things. I was scared to open myself up, I was scared to love…”
Love. It’s a foreign word to you in the context of romance. It’s something that seemed easy to understand but you realized that feeling it isn’t. Nor is finding it. You know you’ve never felt anything like how Jungkook makes you feel, and you wonder if love is something like this, and if it’s something that he feels, too.
“I get it,” he looks away. “It’s not easy to do nor is it easy to take. You never know if you’re good enough for it or if you deserve it. I learned that the hard way, and I still don’t think I…” he trails, shaking his head, as if it’s too much or too soon for him to say. 
You suppose it is. You don’t know much about his relationships but you do remember Taehyung mentioning an ex-girlfriend before, someone whom Jungkook seemed to have loved so much, given the heartbreak he suffered through after the breakup. You wonder if he’ll ever talk about her, or if it even matters. He’s already let you in, and you don’t want to give him a reason to shut you out or feel like you’re intruding. Your relationships are hard to talk about, too, not because they hurt you but because you feel ashamed of them. There are crevices in your heart that you want to leave untouched; you suppose that so does he.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, hoping he’d look at you again. 
He eventually does, the softness on his face returning when you tell him you understand. He nods and smiles, pulling you close for a languid kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as you match his slow place. 
Jungkook feels you smile against his lips. Whatever heaviness he felt earlier as he talked about love, something he’s been afraid to have again after he shunned it away, disappears. 
That’s what kissing you does to him, he’s learning now. It makes the pain hurt less. It makes him forget about his burdens. It makes him feel something he hasn’t in a long time. It makes him hope that he’s capable of doing right by you this time. 
And with how you hug him tightly after you pull away to breathe, he knows that kissing you gives him that strength to face whatever it is he’s still afraid of, and that you’ll stand by him until he’s ready.
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You watch Jungkook from next to your closet as you wear your slip-on dress, a practical outfit given your shopping plans this afternoon. You’ve gone back to your apartment for a change of clothes and to bring some back to his place, and you left him in your living room as you packed your stuff from several meters away. 
He stands by your couch, hands in his pockets as he looks at your photos on the shelf. He has a faraway look in his eyes, one that’s different from the times he zones out and temporarily escapes to somewhere in his head. You wonder what specific photo he’s focused on and what he’s thinking, so you walk over to him and stand on his side. 
It’s the one of you in your uniform during your first day at your new school in Busan. You don’t remember much from that day but your mom said you were shy to make friends. She told you that she was going to just be around because she worked there, too. You smiled just like she asked as she knelt down next to you while a moment marking your new life in a new town was being memorialized. 
You don’t recall taking that many pictures growing up but apparently she did, as she gave you a box of them when you moved back to Seoul on your own. They were all memories from a past you either couldn’t remember or tried hard to forget, but somehow she kept the good ones, perhaps to remind you that in the midst of all that nightmare, she did her best to keep you safe and happy.
“You have your mother’s smile,” Jungkook says. “It’s very warm and encouraging. I get it now, why my father thought you were just like her. You’ve always had this tenderness ever since you were young.”
“I guess,” you hum. “Who’d know the pain underneath all that, right?”
“I’m sorry for what you had to go through,” he turns to you, feeling that tinge of pain in recalling what you experienced as a child. 
“And I’m sorry for what it did to your family,” you sigh, an apology that took you this long to give.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he responds, turning his gaze back to the photo. “I let the resentment get to me. I guess… my parents didn’t deserve that.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you were hurt, Jungkook. Your parents will always carry that with them. But they… they saved us. They helped us get away,” you remind him. 
“I know. You get to be next to me because of them and that… that’s helped me alot,” he admits. “It helped me understand and forgive.”
“That’s good. I’m sure that means everything to them.”
There’s silence as his eyes remain focused on the photo, and you wonder what else he’s thinking, if there’s anything else he’s sorry or thankful for.
“I’m trying so hard to remember meeting you that day,” he finally says, with a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ve buried so many memories and this is the one I wish I kept but I… I can’t because it’s gone. I hate that it is.”
“I’ve been trying to remember you, too,” you respond. “I almost didn’t believe my mom when she said that we’ve met before. She never told me about it but she said it slipped her mind. It was a long time ago and so much happened that day. Seeing you with that chocopie triggered that memory, I guess. We don’t really talk about that time anymore. And I hate that it’s buried somewhere in my mind. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” You turn to him. “We met all those years ago and we never knew. But I kept you with me in the form of a dessert that I still absolutely love, that I eat whenever I’m sad or alone or upset. Connections aren’t fleeting, I’m sure of it now. You’re proof of that.”  
He returns your look, one of sadness but acceptance. It’s one of those things you’re both going to have to deal with, as all the truths about your past come to light. You hope you can just focus on the good things from now on, and with how his lips slowly turn up in a smile, you think that so does he.
“That’s true,” he hums. “You stuck it out for me without even knowing. That’s… that’s pretty special.”
“It is,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug and hearing him release a breath when you do. He returns the affection immediately, and realizing that it’s something you both naturally give to and receive from each other makes you smile. “It’s as if there was some invisible string that kept pulling me towards you. It’s kinda stubborn like me, I think.”
It’s a thought you hold close to your heart. You’re not really one who believes in fate, but with Jungkook, it’s easy to fall into it. You can’t help but think that beyond the debt you felt you had to pay, you unknowingly stayed in the company for another reason, and perhaps that’s so you could meet him and remember it this time. 
You held out so you could build something with him, so you could learn to want to be free, and then want it enough to finally put yourself first. You’re only able to be with him because of that choice, and despite what it took for you to get here, it’s that same string that’s keeping you from regretting all your decisions. 
He responds with a soft kiss on your lips, one that you quickly melt into. The tender moment is slightly disrupted when he kneads your ass, something you’re also learning he’s quite fond of doing, causing you to yelp in surprise and laugh in response. But he just giggles and says he can’t help it. He buries his face in your neck, the feel of him so close warming your insides as he seems to crave that proximity, too.
His phone ringing prompts him to pull away, and you let him go once he greets his mother on the other line. 
“Hello, my dear,” she chirps. “How are you feeling today? Your father told me that you left the Arts Center quite early last night.”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” he hums, sitting on the couch now while he watches you finish your packing. “I was just tired from all the socializing.”
“I understand. I can imagine how exhausted you must feel. Were you able to get some rest?”
“Sort of,” he answers, smiling internally at how the night went. 
Sure, there was a bit of rest, if he counts the four hours of sleep he had because he just couldn’t get enough of you. Even when he was spent from all that you did, he’d just take you in his arms and all you had to do was smile at him or softly kiss his lips and then he wanted to go another round. 
He supposes that all the built-up tension and months of holding himself back had just exploded, and he wants every opportunity he could have to show you how much you mean to him.
“Well, even then, I was hoping you’re free for dinner tonight,” his mother says. “Think of it as a celebration now that your big project is completed.”
“I, uh, I’m kinda busy tonight,” he responds. “Maybe we can have dinner another time?”
“What else could you possibly be busy with this time?” She asks, but she doesn’t sound offended. 
There’s a tone of acceptance in her voice. Jungkook knows she’s used to this, but he doesn’t want this to continue being a norm. He genuinely wants to make time for them, and it’s something you encouraged him to do, too. But he’s still caught up with his new reality with you, so he decides to be honest instead.
“Being with ___,” he admits. “We finally talked and we, uh, we spent the night together. And we’re going out today.”
“Oh, that’s amazing news,” she sighs in relief. “Your father can breathe easy now. And he can finally claim to be a matchmaker,” she chuckles.
Jungkook hears his old man in the background say that it took 20 years but he’ll take it.
“Is he next to you?” Jungkook laughs. 
“He is,” she responds. “He said he saw ___ last night and she was looking for you, but he wasn’t sure how to ask you how it went. So he asked me to invite you to dinner and see if you had plans and well, we’re glad you do.”
“Yeah, we just have a lot to make up for,” he explains, glancing at you. “If you were serious about a celebratory dinner then we can have it another day. Is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear,” she responds. “What about next weekend?”
“I’ll confirm with her and let you know.”
“Alright, son. Well, we don’t want to keep you,” his mother says. “You and ___ have a good day, okay? We’ll see you soon.”
You watch Jungkook smile through the conversation with his parents, something you assume hasn’t happened in years. It’s nice to see him slowly start to mend their relationship. And though you want him to spend time with them, you also can’t help but want to have him all to yourself, and staying in where he promised to cook you his speciality for dinner is how you want to spend your Saturday evening.
The thought excites you. Everything that happened last night just intensified your desire for him. For months, the affection you felt towards him slowly developed. And for months after, you tried to downplay it and hold yourself back from all you could feel. Now, you get to have him in all the ways you want, and it’s overwhelming. What once was a battle of conflicting emotions in your head and heart has been replaced with an overflow of them - all good ones, and it’s a new experience. 
It’s a new experience being able to talk about the things that hurt you, that scared you, that you dream about, just like you did last night while you sat on the couch. It’s new being entangled with someone under soft sheets and actually wanting to stay. It’s new sharing a meal with someone while you talk about your plans for the day, and then holding their hand while they drive later on. It’s a new experience welcoming someone into your home and imagining spending days with them here. 
It’s also a new experience being able to openly ogle them, like what you’re doing now as you gaze at Jungkook sitting on your couch, phone still in hand as he now talks to Seokjin on the phone. 
He’s donned in a pair of jeans and plain white shirt with a baseball cap on, a casual ensemble that still has you melting because of how comfortable he looks. The thin, silver chain is an unexpected accessory, and he said it’s something he’s always had but rarely wore. But upon seeing your satisfied look, he said he’ll wear it from now on. The way he smirked at you plays in your head, and with how he’s got his legs splayed out and his hand behind his head, you start to feel that familiar knot in your belly. You turn around before you get tempted to do anything. And while you’re free to do so, some self-discipline wouldn’t hurt. 
You’re not pressed for time so you let him continue with his call. Based on what you hear, he’s updating his best friends about what happened last night, and his groans tell you that they’re probably teasing him about it. Affectionately, you assume. 
You decide to water your plants while waiting. It's been days. Some leaves have started to dry up so you remove those, too. You’re focused on what you’re doing and jerk in surprise when you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist. But you settle in his hold immediately, leaning on his chest and humming in contentment now that your plants look better and more alive. 
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” he says, his chin resting on your shoulder now. 
“It’s alright,” you reply. “How did the talk with your parents go? And your friends?”
“All fine. My parents want to have dinner and the guys want to go to a club,” he sighs. “But I said you’re my priority right now and not them, so they just have to wait until I’m free, which probably won’t be for a while since we have plans and all.”
“And what are those plans?” You turn around and ask. 
“I don’t know, we’ll just have to make them.”
You playfully shake your head and lay your hands on his chest, a habit you think you’re going to develop with the way he constantly pulls you close. 
“We could make plans with them,” you say softly. “Not unless you, uh, don’t want to.”
“Don’t be silly,” he frowns. “Of course I do. I just don’t want to impose and have you spend time with my family and friends if you don’t want to.”
“Why won’t I want to?” You frown back. “Plus, that’s part of being with you, isn’t it? Spending time with the people you care about?”
“It is,” he smiles. “So, uh, what do you think about next Saturday? We can have dinner with my parents then go out with the guys and then say we’re tired so we can leave early?”
“That’s… that’s quite the plan,” you laugh. 
“Or we could just reschedule time with Seokjin and Taehyung. They’ll understand.”
“I’m fine with that, too,” you nod. “And then maybe we could also, uh, make the trip to Daegu and I can properly introduce you to my family?” 
“That sounds good,” he nods. “And what about your friends? That is, if they want to spend time with me. And by they, I mean Jimin.”
You snort in response to Jungkook's statement, which he’s not wrong for making. The last time they were in the same room together, you felt the tension through the roof. 
“He’s just being protective, as he should,” you explain. “He’s seen me date men who turned out to be shitty and he just wants to make sure I’m treated well. And that I’m happy. And I am, so he’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” Jungkook questions.
“Yes,” you assure him. “We’ve been best friends for 20 years. It’s natural to be cautious about people. At least he is because I’m clearly not.”
“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll make plans, then. And then we can go to one of our properties in Gwangju. And Jeju. And anywhere you want to go to. We could fly to Japan or Europe or wherever, really.”
“Alright, one at a time,” you chuckle, the mix of excitement and nervousness filling you up. “Let’s not forget that I have a budget and limited leaves.”
“Which we’ll work out,” he says, adding that he’s definitely not going to make you spend a single cent. “But we could also just stay in or go to a park or watch movies. Anything, really.”
There’s a sadness in his eyes that you recognize, like this admission of longing that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. You soften as you caress his face, wanting him to know that whatever it is he wants to do, you want to do all of those with him, too.
“I… I don’t know when the last time was that I actually looked forward to the weekend,” he admits. “I didn’t actually like it, only because I was forced to not work. And I always wanted to work. It… it made me forget how lonely I really was.”
He looks away, as he reveals a part of him that he’s never shared to anyone. 
It wasn’t always like this. His teenage years were filled with holidays with his parents and weekends in their scenic properties despite the distance he felt from them. But he couldn’t wait to grow up, to be independent and live life his way. He studied hard and by the time he was in university, he was working at the company already, eager to learn and earn money, something he continued to do when he did his postgraduate studies in Singapore. 
But he had Chaerin then, and his life was filled with excitement and happiness. There was always something to do, something to look forward to, until he lost it all and became a shell of who he was. There was so much void within that continued to get larger the more he spent time on his own after the breakup. 
He worked even harder because he didn’t know what to do with his time. He bought useless things because he didn’t know what to do with his money. He went to clubs and slept around because he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, only so he wouldn’t be faced with the reality that he wasn’t happy, that all the things he wanted - a sense of purpose, a hand to hold - were out of his reach.
The Arts Center was his saving grace. It gave his life meaning, as he sought meaning through it. And that’s what allowed him to be here with you. In building something for others, he realized how strong his desire for intimacy was, and how much he wanted to experience the world with someone, to share in its joys and difficulties, to learn what more he could give and get from it. And you’re everything tangible that used to just be a blur to him.
In building something for you, he realized how much he wants you to be happy, how much he wants you to always be safe. And he gets to be that person who makes it happen. 
It’s barely been a day but he supposes it’s why he can’t get enough of you, why he constantly reaches out, needing to know you’re next to him and not some image he conjured in his mind. It’s why he wants to make all these plans, so he could experience all the things he’s wanted but was always afraid to feel because of the fear of losing it one day. 
“There are so many places I want to explore and I want us to do them together,” you whisper, tilting his chin so he faces you again. “There are all these things I want to try and experience, even some things I usually do on my own that I want to share with you. I get you, Jungkook. I let days pass me by. All I did was look forward to something I didn’t even know. Now I know what I want, and that includes having them with you.”
His eyes soften as you utter the words, with your fingers tracing his face as if to see if he’s real, too, and if happiness is something that you can finally touch. 
“You don’t have to feel alone anymore,” you continue. “And I don’t have to feel that way, either, because you’re there. I want you to always be there.”
“I will,” he smiles, gently pressing his lips onto yours. “And we can do whatever you want.”
“Okay. A ghost tour is on my list,” you say, thinking to lighten the mood.
“It is, huh?” He laughs. “I mean, sure. I can definitely protect you.”
“You mean, I can protect you,” you counter. 
“___, I’m scared of thunder, not ghosts. I think I’ll be fine,” he chuckles. 
“And I’m scared of the living, not the dead, so I’ll be fine, too,” you point out. “I’ve always wanted to try it but I didn’t want a spirit to latch onto me because I was alone.”
“I don’t think that’s how it goes,” he playfully shakes his head. “But sure, we can do that. Anything else?”
“Hmm. Something outdoors? I… I really liked it when we were at your lake house and we sat on the rocks by the stream,” you reminisce. “It was very peaceful and it was just nice being out there.”
“Did you like it when you had your arms around me during the ATV ride, too?” He smirks. “Because I did.”
“It was bumpy,” you pout. “I should drive it next time and you can be my passenger.”
“Gotta learn how to drive first,” he teases. “How come you never learned?”
“Because it didn’t seem practical to learn and not have a car to drive,” you reason. “I’ll just forget it so I never bothered. Probably when I’m in my forties and I can afford to buy one.”
“Or I can get you one.”
He looks at you like he’s serious, and he probably is. So you draw the line before he thinks it’s okay for him to do that.
“You won’t. I will not accept it,” you say sternly. “And you will not buy me anything of that kind.”
“Fine. But I can buy you other things like jewelry and clothes and—”
“Jungkook, you know I don’t like you for your money, right?” You frown. “I know we’re leagues apart in terms of wealth and I—”
“I know,” he says, pulling open your crossed arms and wrapping them around him again. “I’m just saying that I want to buy you things because I like you. It’s… just a way for me to show you how I feel. No cars, I promise.”
“Good. I’m not gonna be able to drive it anyway,” you laugh.
“I can always teach you,” he says. “It’s still a good skill to have, you know?”
“Hmm, maybe one of these days,” you smile. 
“So in the meantime, I can get you something else. Maybe something for work? Please?”
He uses his doe-eyes to convince you, and it doesn’t take much. You suppose that for someone who’s not always good with words, buying you things is a way for him to make up for it. He built you a library, after all. You’re not always good with words, either, but perhaps accepting what he gives is a way for you to show him how you feel, too, among other things. 
“Fine,” you give in. “Just one thing.”
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You find yourself hours later in a boutique shop on a quiet street in Incheon. 
You and Jungkook agreed that doing your shopping in the neighboring city will keep you from running into people that you don’t want knowing about your relationship at this point, such as the management support team or anyone else, really. 
You went to a shopping center after the hour-long drive. You opted for mid-range brands that offered comfortable basics, stocking up on slacks and tops to match the blazers and coats that you already have. You picked some flowy skirts and dresses, too, while Jungkook convinced you to get some of the statement pieces that caught your eye. 
He was an engaged companion, carrying your basket as you walked around and then finding you when you wandered too far. He gave approving nods whenever you showed something to him, surprising you when he’d comment that you already have a similar colored top. He looked embarrassed then, when he explained that you had outfits that stuck with him. You admitted that so did you, with his charcoal and navy suits as your favorites. 
He sported that shy smile again, a sight you never thought you’d one day be spoiled with. It always gave you a kind of comfort that you’ve never felt before, and you suppose it’s why you wanted to keep seeing it. Doing this with him today has given you that same feeling, especially when he’d look at you satisfied and say that he really likes how the outfit looks on you. 
You passed on the premium outlet shopping center, stating your case to Jungkook that you’re not one to wear luxury brands to a place as constant as your workplace. And while you agreed to him buying you something, you said you preferred it to be one of quality, and not just because it was expensive. Which is why you’re currently in this local boutique store selling the prettiest shoes you’ve ever seen.  
The name sounds familiar, and you remember going through some fashion magazines at Taehyung’s shop and seeing this listed on a best new brands list. Deservingly so, it seems, as the collection before you boasts of a variety of simple and statement designs that look soft and comfortable, too. You’re particularly drawn to the colored ones, since you could never wear those styles before. Your recommended outfits only allowed basic and muted colors, so your black and nude pumps were your go-to. And while you’ll still be wearing those, you definitely want a pair that would stand out. Or two. 
“See anything you like?” Jungkook breaks through your thoughts. 
You turn to him with a sparkle in your eyes as you nod shyly. 
“See anything you really like?” He chuckles as he walks towards you and you nod again. 
“Tell me,” he urges.
You get the ones that caught your eye - a pair of orange satin pumps and these olive green suede heels with ankle straps. You love the hues and how they’ll contrast some of your neutral-colored outfits, but right now, you don’t know which one you want more.
“I can’t choose between these two,” you say, scrunching your eyebrows. 
“Easy. We get both of them,” Jungkook replies as he asks the staff to get your size. 
He stands in front of you as you try each pair, his eyes following you as you walk around the store and check yourself in the mirror. He softens at your smile as you look at your reflection. There’s wonder in it, and he’s glad that he’s able to give this to you, of all things. It’s cliche but those shoes will take you to places; he looks forward to being next to you when they do. 
He giggles when you wear one of each pair and keep turning positions to see how you look in them. 
“Hey, I’m serious,” he says. “We can get both of them. You can even get more.”
“But I don’t want you to spoil me,” you pout. 
“But I will,” he insists, standing in front of you now. “I liked the smile you had earlier. I want to keep making you smile like that. And no, I don’t think you’re being materialistic or anything,” he adds before you unnecessarily defend yourself. “They’re pretty things and I want to give them to you.”
“Fine,” you pout again. “Do you like them, at least?”
“They’re nice,” he compliments.
“Just nice?” You frown. “That’s what you said the first time you saw me in a dress.” 
Your teasing smile makes him laugh, but it somehow comforts him. He remembers that day clearly, when you accompanied him to Taehyung’s shop to fit the suits made for him, and you tried on the gowns that his best friend made for you, too. Seeing you in that burgundy attire made his heart drop, and that’s what’s been happening every single time that he sees you all dressed up. He didn’t think you’d remember but apparently, it stuck with you. 
“It’s not like I could say that you looked stunning then, now could I?” He cocks an eyebrow. 
“So that’s what you thought, huh?” You nibble your lower lip.
“Always,” he responds. “It’s been hard keeping myself together ever since.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks at his confession, and for all the times you cursed yourself for being unprofessional for finding him attractive, you at least don’t feel too bad now that he thought the same. 
“That makes both of us,” you smirk, liking how he playfully shakes his head and turns away.
He wants to kiss you right now but he knows it’s not the time nor place. 
“So, both of these shoes, then?” He confirms. “Are you sure you only want two?”
“Yes. You’ve spoiled me enough already,” you state. 
He concedes, even if he really wants to buy you more. He wants to shower you with so many things but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you with that side of him just yet, so he’ll take things slow for now. 
He walks with you to the counter where he pays for the shoes. He sees the sparkle in your eyes when he takes the shopping bags from the staff and there’s something so wholesome about how you look that has his insides warming up. 
“You like them, too, right?” You ask as you both walk out the store to head back to the car. 
“Of course,” he hums. “They’re pretty and you like them. Plus, I saw the reviews that said the shoes are comfortable and sturdy. And you need that. I can’t have you tripping yourself because of unstable heels and then falling into the arms of some man again. I won’t be there to catch you anymore.”
“Hey,” you pull his arm to get his attention, frowning at him when he turns to you at the reminder of that Arts Center incident. “That was one time.”
“You trip on yourself when you’re on the ladder, too,” he points out. “And I’m always there breaking your fall.”
“And why are you?” You cock an eyebrow. “You always had your eyes on me, didn’t you, Mr. Jeon?”
“Couldn’t help it, even if I wasn’t supposed to,” he says. “I just found myself always looking out for you. And you just happened to be tripping a few of those times.”
You laugh in response because he’s not wrong, but it’s also a way for you to tell him it’s okay. You suppose you weren’t the only one paying attention because he seemed to do that a lot with you. And the more you think about it, the more you realize that the feelings you once doubted were sincere have been present all this time. But he held himself back, just like you did. He tried not to cross the line because he knew it wouldn’t be right until you did, and all he wanted was to keep you close so he could be there for you. Because the moment he knew what was keeping you there, he made the difficult decision of letting you go. 
You smile at the thought, learning now that when it comes to you, Jungkook is attentive. He’s protective and he wants to make you happy, to shower you with gifts, to make you experience good things in life because it’s his way of expressing his feelings. You may be starting a new job that requires you to be apart from him, but in his own ways, he’s still looking out for you. 
You want to carry him with you as you take on a new challenge, too. And you’ll look back on today as a way for you to do that. It’s in the shoes that he bought for you; it’s in his company and patience as you went around looking for clothes earlier; it’s in the experience of doing something together. 
A sigh of relief escapes you as you settle in the passenger seat. It’s been tiring but also really fun, and you smile again at the thought of being able to do this for yourself. 
Since your first visit at Rkive Publishing, you’ve been envisioning how you’d look and how your days were going to be. It filled you with excitement seeing that image of you in your mind - dressed in clothes that made you feel comfortable but powerful, in an environment that was challenging but exhilarating, in a place that didn’t make you feel stuck or constrained. It truly feels like a new beginning, and you didn’t realize that the simple act of shopping could make you see yourself differently, that it could make your approach to work feel more relaxed.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed shopping that much,” Jungkook says. “Guess we’ll have to do that again.”
“I didn’t know, too,” you chuckle. “But I think it’s more than that,” you turn to him with a soft smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever really shopped for a full wardrobe before. All my office clothes were hand-me-downs from my mom when I started working and I just gradually bought my own over the years. But now I get to buy all these new things for what I feel like is a new chapter in my life, you know? It sounds silly but I’m pretty sentimental about it.”
“It’s not silly,” he replies. “You’re doing something that you chose, that you’re happy with. That means everything.”
His eyes soften and you realize that you haven’t really talked about your resignation. And with all your excitement for your new job, the last thing you want is for you to think that you felt burdened by working for him.
“Jungkook, I… I’m sorry for resigning when I did,” you start, earning you a shake of his head. “I don’t want you to think that I wasn’t happy working for the company. Because I had great moments, and you were one of them,” you explain. 
He nods as he takes in your words, and you take his hand to tell him you mean them. 
“It was hard at first but I stuck it out because it felt ungrateful of me to leave,” you continue. “Things got better when I was under Hoseok but there was always that feeling that I didn’t deserve everything, even if I was giving all of myself to the job. And that was all on me. I realized that I was the one who couldn’t move on from my past. And I just constantly felt stuck. Working hard was all I knew how to do until I didn’t know myself anymore but you… You helped me realize what I was missing. You helped me realize what I could be.”
“How?” He asks.
“The Arts Center,” you say. “Learning about why you wanted to build it showed me that it’s what I wanted, too - to create meaning, to connect people to something, to experience something tangible that could stay with us. You were so passionate about it and I wanted to be passionate about something just like you. And I’m sorry I had to leave because of that. And well, I also really like you and it didn’t feel right to stay any longer after what happened.”
“I didn’t realize that it meant that much to you,” he responds, caressing your hand now. 
“It did. It still does. Being there last night made me feel so many things, especially the library,” you say. “I think I’ll need time to really soak everything in.”
“We can do that tomorrow,” he suggests. “It’ll be open until late all weekend and we can go around if you want.”
“I’d really like that,” you smile at him. 
He smiles back but there’s still that tinge of sadness in his eyes, and you continue looking at him to urge him to say what he wants to say. 
“I should’ve asked you why you wanted to leave instead of asking you to stay,” he sighs. “I probably would’ve understood. I mean I… I’m working for my family and it’s all I’ll ever do. I’ve lost myself in it, too. I know it’s not the same but I guess that’s why constructing the Arts Center mattered that much to me. It was different. I felt like it was the only way I could find meaning in what I was doing, something that went beyond my duties to my family. I… I learned what I wanted to be for someone, too, because of you. So I understand why you have to do this for yourself, ___,” he turns to you with an assuring look. “After everything settled, I knew that leaving would be the only way for you to be truly happy because then, you get to do something for yourself. And I just want you to know that I really want this for you, too. I’m just glad I get to be next to you like this.”
You feel your eyes turn glassy. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed to hear that from him. And given all the new experiences and challenges you’ll be facing, having someone to hold your hand and tell you that things will be okay makes it more meaningful. You won’t be going through things on your own anymore. And you get to tell him that he won’t, either. 
His smile tells you that he understands, and it’s one that you mirror.
“Your new boss seems nice,” Jungkook says as he looks back on the road. “He called me one day and asked about you.”
“Namjoon did say he spoke with you,” you respond. “And yes, he’s very kind. He rambles a lot but he’s just very passionate about books and literature. I’m sure I’ll learn so much from him.”
“That’s good. It’s a new industry so it’s important to have a mentor like him,” Jungkook hums. “Just, you know, don’t trip and fall into his arms or something.”
“That is not going to happen,” you laugh. “Are you jealous?” You nudge him. “Are you the jealous type?”
“No,” he frowns. 
“Good. You have nothing to be worried about, okay? He has nice dimples but I like yours better,” you tease. 
He pouts at you but you just kiss his cheek to appease him, your own affection surprising you. You find yourself constantly showing it to him, wanting him to know how you feel instead of words you don’t think you’ll be able to say. 
“Are you the jealous type?” He asks now.
“I actually don’t know,” you wonder. 
Your past relationships weren’t really exclusive so you didn’t have a reason to be jealous. 
“We should go to a club and see,” he says. 
“Hey,” you whine. “All the women will flock to you.”
“And who says the men won’t flock to you?” He arches an eyebrow. “You’re the one that people fall for.”
“And you’re not?”
“___, I’ve slept with women but let’s not pretend they wanted to be with me,” he chuckles. 
“Maybe they did, and you just never gave them a chance,” you reason.
“Well, I never let them stay long enough to know,” he shrugs. “It’s not something I do, and it’s not something I ask of them.”
But you asked me to, you don’t say. You remember the look of rejection in his eyes that night at his office and how you turned him away. Perhaps to him, you’re also someone he was willing to crawl out of his walls for, and for a time, he thought you didn’t want him enough. 
You promise yourself that you’ll make it a point to show him that you always do, whether it’s through words or actions but especially through your way of opening up yourself to him completely. 
You nudge his hand that’s still in yours, prompting him to look at you. 
“I’m here to stay,” you tell him, wanting him to feel the weight of your words because you don’t do that for anyone, either. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You say it almost in a whisper, like it’s a promise you want him to know you’ll always keep. He lifts your hand to his lips and he kisses it, a way to let you know that he’s not going anywhere, too. He’ll keep holding your hand wherever you or he goes because he knows that right next to you is where he wants to be.
It’s a very intimate act, and it’s barely been a day but he’s done so many of those already with you, including expressing his honest and sentimental feelings. He supposes it’s all the time he’s held back. Or maybe all the years that he kept himself from feeling and showing any of that. 
But you have each other to share those with now and he hopes that however he chooses to show them to you, you’ll understand and accept them and like you said, you’ll stay and not go anywhere. 
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You spend the rest of the car ride back to Seoul talking about the posts and articles being written about the Arts Center. You go on social media and read them out to Jungkook, warming at how softly he smiles with every compliment from the visitors and artists. Even if you weren’t there during the ceremony last night, you’re glad that you’re at least able to celebrate with him from this day forward. 
You arrive at a supermarket and let Jungkook take the lead. But while he’s buying to fill up his fridge and pantry, he’s taken it upon himself to make sure you have everything you need and want, too. 
He picks up the coffee pods and grounds that you mentioned you like. He asks you for your preferred snacks and desserts on top of the chocopie that he gets boxes of. He lets you choose your skincare and bath products. He grabs containers of side dishes and an array of meat and vegetables, as well as a sack of rice. There are other ingredients he gets and before you know it, you’ve got a cart filled to the brim and a satisfied man pushing it to the counter. 
He pays for his purchases and you realize just how much he’s actually bought.
“Are you throwing a party that I don’t know of?” You tease, as he hauls all the groceries in his trunk. “That’s a lot of shopping for one person.”
“I, uh, I was hoping to have you stay over during the weekends,” he says shyly. “I mean, we can also stay at your place if you’re okay with us being there. But I just thought about buying a lot of what we want when we stay in and stuff.”
“Are you bribing me with food so that I’ll spend more nights with you?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Yes? Well, I’d like to think I’m good company, too,” he chuckles. “And that you’d, uh, want to spend time with me. Is it too much?”
“Of course not,” you say. “It’s sweet actually, how you’re making a space for me in your home. And you don’t have to bribe me, you know? The place is good, the company’s good,” and whispering in his ear, you add, “the sex is good. I… I’d like to spend time with you, too.”
“That’s comforting,” he laughs as you both head inside the car. “Although I’d prefer for that last one to be more than good.”
“Hmm. Good thing you have tonight to show me, then,” you teasingly smile. 
He groans as he playfully shakes his head, this bold version of you still flustering him. But he wants to tease back, so he turns to you and pulls your face close to him. He gives you a deep kiss before booping your nose with his.
“Just make sure to keep up, yeah?” He answers. 
“Rude,” you gasp, earning you a laugh. “It’s not my fault you don’t get tired.”
“It’s not my fault that you do.”
Your pout makes him want to erase it with a kiss so that’s what he does again, and he likes that he can do this over and over, as many times as he wants. 
“I’m kidding. I’ll do whatever you want,” he smiles. “Just as long as it makes you feel good.”
You’re only able to nod now, not wanting to provoke him any further because another word of him telling you what he can do is gonna cause you to spiral. 
The sun is still out by the time you arrive at his penthouse with everything you bought for the day. He insists on having your clothes washed - a perk he has as owner of the building, and you give in. He says it’s so they’re all ready for you next week, and you’re once again reminded of this thoughtful side of him. Sure, money helps, but you suppose it’s easy for a rich man to just think of what conveniences him but not others. In many ways, he’s shown you that he’s more than that. You’re able to see it all up close now, and you can’t help but like him even more. 
After he hands your bag of clothes to the butler, he heads to the kitchen where he says he’s going to prepare dinner. You follow him and look on curiously as he brings out a few of the ingredients you bought earlier.
“What’s on the menu?” You ask, sitting on the counter right next to where he’s got his work space laid out.
“Buckwheat noodles with my special sauce,” he answers. “And some boiled pork.”
“That sounds delicious,” you hum. “And here I thought you hire people to cook for you.”
“Can’t really call someone over at 2AM to make me dinner, can I?” He laughs. 
“Why would you have dinner at 2AM?!”
“Because it’s how I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, sometimes I have dinner out. Some nights I’m so tired from work so I take a nap and wake up at odd hours, or I’d just work all night and realize I haven’t eaten so I make something then. Meat is easy to grill, noodles are quick to make, but for you, I’m making special versions.”
“I feel special already,” you giggle. “But that’s not healthy, Jungkook,” you turn serious. “Meal time is meal time and rest time is rest time. You always work so hard, you need to take a break and not overdo yourself.”
“I know. You used to tell me that all the time,” he smiles softly. “It was nice to hear, and I listened to you. I guess those were the only times when I let myself take a breath. You were pretty stubborn about it.”
“Because you were a hard-head about it,” you frown. “So much for being protective of me when you couldn’t even look out for yourself.”
“I know, that’s why you were there,” he points out. “And you were the same, so that’s why I was there for you, too. We, uh, I guess we complemented each other that way.” 
“I guess,” you smile now. 
There’s some sadness in that thought, though, at how you both went on years just focusing on your respective jobs individually and not having much you share with others. Sure, you had your friends and so did he, but in the silence of your own homes, you lived through every day just waiting for the next, not knowing what to look forward to about it. 
You suppose that’s what happens when you share only the most shallow parts of yourself to someone - your body, your time, your energy - but even those were limited. Now, you get to feel what it’s like to share more of them, in ways that require more. But you’re willing to do all that, and you can see that so is he.   
Jungkook boils the pork in some spices and says that it’ll take some time. He gestures towards the balcony where you see the sun about to set. You’ve never seen it from this high, and he says that he hasn’t watched it from here in months because he’s been getting home late. His office doesn’t offer this same view. 
You head out and take a seat on the couch where he follows. He positions himself next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer until you’ve got your legs on his lap and your head on his chest. Being with him like this, you feel comfortable again; you feel safe. 
The sky is beautiful and it’s another version of it that you get to share with him. You know there’ll be more of this that you’ll have, and you’ll keep this in your memory just like all the other times that you did. 
His free hand draws patterns on your knee and you try to decipher what they are, recalling those days of watching him doodle on his leather notebook and wondering what’s on his mind. 
It’s something you ask him and there's a beat of silence before he answers.
“There’s a lot of things I think about,” he says. “Most times I don’t know how to make sense of them or express them so I just draw whatever I feel like. They’re mostly figures and structures because they at least make sense to me even if my feelings don’t.”
“What about now? Do your feelings make sense?”
“A little bit,” he hums, but he assures you it’s not a bad thing. “You always felt familiar. I think that’s why I was so hesitant to get to know you and why I felt like I had to keep my distance. It wasn’t right to feel that way for my assistant. I know now why that was. We crossed paths a long time ago and I guess we made each other feel something that we couldn’t find in others or that we couldn’t find ourselves. It’s familiar but it’s all new. Isn’t it contradictory?”
“Maybe. But it also could be that we felt something like that before and we lost it along the way. And we met again and so we’re feeling it again, but in a different way,” you try to explain. “Familiar but new. Do you doubt it?”
“Not at all,” he shakes his head. “I just couldn’t help but think about it because this version of myself feels different but it’s still me.” 
“I get you. I’m not really like this, either. I’m not fond of affection. I’m not this giggly or this… honest or this bold. I’m terrified of many things so I’m also not this brave but you… you bring all that out of me, Jungkook. And it feels really good.”
“I’m not this honest, too. I don’t know where my words come from,” he chuckles. 
“I was about to say that you’re able to express your feelings just fine,” you smile. 
“That’s barely scratching the surface,” he says. “There’s still a lot I don’t know how to say.”
Regret is one of them, Jungkook thinks. And guilt and fear and an overwhelming joy and clarity that he can’t fully express. There’s still hesitation somehow but vulnerability, too. There’s a feeling of inadequacy and a desire to give you everything he can.
“Me, too,” you sigh. “We can always just keep showing it to each other in different ways. I know that’s not always easy, but we can… we can keep trying. I held so much of what I felt for months and I’m just glad I don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I held back for a year,” he blurts, surprising you. Your questioning eyes urge him to continue. “I… I thought you were pretty. And you put me in my place, you’re honest and caring, you’re so good at what you do, you’re… someone I wanted to be around, even if it didn’t seem like it. And I’ll always be sorry for how I treated you.”
“I have a lot of shortcomings, too, Jungkook,” you admit. “I judged you before I met you because you never smiled during the times I saw you. And then I constantly compared you to Hoseok and I shouldn’t have.”
“Well, look at me now. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much,” he chuckles. “But it’s okay. We… we were getting used to each other.”
“We were. And I… I like seeing you smile. There would be nights when I’d fall asleep thinking about it,” you confess. 
“Here I thought I was the only one doing that,” he laughs. 
“We’re so ridiculous,” you laugh back. “We’ve said too much. Now we can kiss.”
“You like doing that, huh?” He smirks, pulling you to sit on top of him now. 
You shift on his lap and find a position that has your heart racing. You moan when his hands guide you in grinding against his slowly hardening length. And he watches you move before his eyes flit to meet yours, the desire heightening and the tension building.
“I do, very much,” you whisper, bending down to graze your nose against his before you kiss him. 
It starts off tender but with the feel of him underneath you and his tongue amorously entangling with yours, it gets rough soon enough. You’re thankful that you’re seated closer to the door, leaving you less exposed than if you were near the railings. It’s enough privacy that he’s able to sneak his hand under your scrunched up dress without you minding, and you moan louder when he pulls your bra so he could flick your nipple that’s clearly screaming to be touched. 
You return the favor, untucking his shirt so you could touch his chest, too. It reminds you of how you’d mapped this out last night, the tautness of it making you imagine all the ways you could pleasure him there. But you settle with your nails grazing against his smooth torso this time, knowing you have all of tonight and perhaps tomorrow to do it. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips. “Baby, we’re gonna have to take this inside,” he says, although he doesn’t stop nor let you go. He continues to kiss you and drag his hands all over your back.
“We should,” you say, not stopping either. 
It takes a few more nibbles on each other’s lips before you finally pull away, heaving in pleasure and wanting more. But you remove yourself from him before you get into it again. Walking back inside, he surprises you with another squeeze of your ass, prompting you to turn to him. 
“You like doing that, huh?” You repeat his words. 
“I do, very much,” he hums. He hugs you from behind and says, “this, too,” as he nuzzles your neck.
You only laugh in response but deep down, there’s this warmth you feel at how much affection he’s giving you and how much you’re accepting and returning it. You weren’t big on intimacy with your exes. You weren’t the type to hold their hand or cling to them or caress them outside of sex. They weren’t natural for you, and you suppose those kinds of acts required more openness and emotional closeness that you didn’t feel for them.
But with Jungkook, it’s as if it’s all you want to do, and it seems to be the same for him. You didn’t realize how holding his hand could be so assuring, or how feeling him wrap around you could relieve you of your tiredness, or how kissing him could make time stop yet you still feel there’s not enough of it when you’re with him. 
And as he stands by the stove, pan frying dumplings for your appetizer while the pork continues to boil, all you want to do is watch him be. 
You’ve always admired him for his dedication to his craft. You’ve sat through countless meetings, watched him draft blueprints and plans and present them, and listened to him put together ideas and designs. He’s creative, rational, and very smart, and it always impressed you how much technical knowledge he has. He always had such confidence in his abilities and that also made him very attractive to you. 
But seeing him in a domestic setting in his casual clothes while cooking your dinner ignites something else within you. It’s this desire to see and experience all sides of him, and to be welcomed in every nook of his big heart. 
He arranges the dumplings on a plate and mixes the dipping sauce, then places the dish on the counter for both of you to enjoy. He takes a piece, blows on it, then feeds it to you, and you laugh to yourself because this is something that you used to tell Hajoon that you could do on your own so he doesn’t have to. But with Jungkook doing it now, he triggers a swarm of butterflies in your belly that has you giggling. 
He just smiles, the warmth in his eyes telling you that this is something he wants to do for you and you let him. He’s told you he wants to take care of you and you want that, too. You want to show him that you can do it as well.
Jungkook gets a bowl and starts making the sauce while he boils the buckwheat noodles. It’s something he came up with one late evening, adding perilla oil and egg yolk to the different condiments he had on stock. You feed him dumplings while he mixes the ingredients, which he eventually pours over the noodles then sprinkles seaweed on top of it. It looks creamy and delicious, and partnered with the boiled pork that he plates on a wooden board, your mouth starts to water.
It’s all surprisingly delicious, as you tell him that you didn’t think that just putting a bunch of sauces together would create something that good. You enjoy dinner over beer and then insist that you’ll clean up while he takes a bath. 
It’s an hour later when you exit his bathroom, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him sitting on the bed, his back across the frame with the covers over his legs while he scrolls through his phone. He doesn’t have a shirt on, leaving his toned upper body in full display for you to stare at. You’ve already seen this last night; ran your hands all over them, even, but somehow you know it’ll always take your breath away. 
He looks up when he senses you’re back, and he smiles seeing you donned in one of his oversized shirts. He likes you in his clothes. There’s something so domestic about it, even if he’ll end up taking them off of you anyway. 
And that’s what he does, as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed while you remain standing in front of him. He caresses the sides of your thighs while he looks up at you, before pulling up your shirt that you help him remove. 
You giggle when his lips immediately plant themselves on your torso, where he kisses and sucks the soft plane of flesh that has you moaning in pleasure. His hands travel around - kneading your ass, sliding up then fondling your breasts, before they’re removing your underwear and then cupping your bare cunt.
“Jungkook, baby,” you whine, feeling the sensation all over your body. “Want you, please.”
It’s the words he loves hearing from you, knowing the desire comes from somewhere deep. It’s because you’ve allowed him to a place that no one’s ever been to before, and it’s a place he wants to stay in for as long as you’ll let him. 
And he takes it to heart. He wants to feel you feel good; he wants to hear it, to breathe it, to let your pleasure course through his body and let it linger, and that’s the only way he’ll feel good. It’s not just about chasing his own high like it used to be. With you, it’s always more.
He switches places with you, lays you on the edge of the bed while he kneels on the floor for that angle that lets him taste all of you. He laps you up and he feels your clit pulsate against his tongue, your breathy curses complementing the way your body screams for him. He increases the pressure to build you up then slows down to prolong it. 
You seek him. Your hands pull him forward, your cunt thrusts against his face, you yell out his name, and when you come, his lips are what you want all over you, all over again. 
You’re eager. The short second it takes for him to stand up, you’re pulling his boxers down and stroking his length; you’re swallowing him whole before he could even catch a breath. But it’s everything he wants, as your warmth coats his aching cock and he pushes into you, hearing your obscene sounds as you take him in. 
“You feel so good,” he grunts, your tongue swirling around his slit. “Fuck, baby, just like that.”
He manages to open his eyes, and the sight of you eager to please him sends shivers down his spine. You fondle his balls, you play with your breast, you thrust against nothing while you moan with your mouth full of him. He softens for a while, tucking the damp strands of hair behind your ear, before he pulls away then guides you to flip over with your hands and knees on the bed.
You’re able to take a breath while he puts on his condom, but you're already dazed, your mind completely hazy from everything that Jungkook makes you feel. 
The way he fills you up is heavenly. He hits your deepest spot, and the pace of his movement has him grazing every inch of your walls. He pushes your waist down with his every thrust, making both of you feel the sensation in a mind-numbing way.
Your knees are trembling but you don’t mind. Your knuckles are probably turning white from how hard you’re gripping his sheets but it’s your only anchor for now. Your neck is straining and you’re breathless as he relentlessly bucks his hip against you but you don’t want him to stop. 
He switches it up, both his hands on your waist now to keep it steady while he drags himself in and out of you. You clench around him and push against his movements, and it has him moaning curses with your name. His pace becomes erratic, and that’s how you know he’s close.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he instructs you. “Come with me. Fuck, fuck, I want you to come.”
You do as you’re told, reaching down to stroke your clit while he pounds you from behind. And when you hear his deep breaths and a prolonged moan, you quicken your pace until you’re coming once again.
He pants, all the energy being drained out of him, but you still feel him gently kiss your shoulders, then your spine, then your ass cheeks before he lays in bed next to you. 
He breathes heavily but he manages a soft smile that mirrors yours, and all you want to do is wrap him in your arms until you both fall asleep. 
“Sex just good?” He teasingly asks. 
“Were you trying to make a point?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” he huffs.
You shift your position, your arm now supporting your body as you lay on your side. Your hand traces his bare torso, which still rises and falls from the ordeal, and he hums in satisfaction. 
“Did you like that?” You whisper in his ear, biting your lip in anticipation of his answer. 
“Uh-huh,” he breathes out. “Fuck, you feel so good. You take me so well, baby. That was just…”
“I want to keep making you feel good, Jungkook,” you moan, liking how he’s at a loss for words. “And I want you to keep fucking me like that.”
Your vulgar words contrast the tender way you graze your nose against his neck, and it somehow makes his mind even more hazy. You’re everything he wants, and he’ll do everything to keep you next to him. 
“I will,” he promises, turning to his side to face you. “I’ll do that and more.”
And he does, as he cleans you up and tucks you under the covers with his arms around your body. You’re cradled in his, and the clarity you feel after such a mind-numbing experience is so satisfying. 
You suppose this is what intimacy is - feeling that high and then landing on a soft field of everything beautiful, and you decide that this is the only place you’ll ever want to be in. Jungkook smiles at you and you just know he feels the same way you do.
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You wake up with Jungkook next to you this time, your limbs entangled with his under the comforts of his soft blanket. Your eyes flutter open and you see him propped up on his tattooed arm, smiling at you.
“Were you just watching me sleep?” You mumble.
“Maybe,” he teasingly shrugs. “It’s nice to see you resting well.”
“It’s your sheets,” you say, earning you a laugh.
“Guess I know what to spoil you with next time,” he winks. 
“What time is it? And why aren’t you working out?” You ask, knowing it’s how he always starts his day. 
“11,” he answers. “I’m surprised I didn’t wake up earlier. But when I did I just thought to sleep in with you.”
“Hmm, good decision,” you grunt, your mind still half asleep but awake enough to appreciate his half naked form next to you. You scoot closer and hug him, causing him to lay flat on his back while he wraps his arm around your bare body. “This is better than a workout.”
“Well, I kinda had mine last night,” he giggles.
And he’s not wrong. After he tucked you in bed, you spent another hour or so just talking and cuddling and that led to another round of him pounding into you from the side, and then another one with him over you. He went so hard that he had to take another shower at 3 in the morning and he’s probably done his arm and core exercises for today. 
You don’t even know how you managed to withstand all that, but you did, and you loved every second of it. You loved how he bit his lip in pleasure and how his neck veins popped out as he pounded into you intensely. You basked in his whimpered sounds and the kisses he showered you with as he came down. 
And now you’re in his embrace, curled against him. You'd do this all day if you could.
“But this is nice,” he hums, as he strokes your back while also combing your hair with his fingers. 
He kisses the top of your head while you moan in satisfaction, a kind of soft pleasure that relaxes you, that makes you feel like you’re floating but also enveloped in pure warmth. That’s what hugging Jungkook feels like, as his toned but smooth arms wrap around you. His rough fingers tenderly roam your body, and it eases your tired being; nuzzling his neck, you feel like you could fall asleep again. 
But you’re quite hungry and you assume that so is he, so you slowly disentangle yourself from him and say that you’ll be cooking lunch when he whines. 
“I told you I’ll make something for you this time,” you say, appeasing him with a kiss on the cheek. 
“Fine,” he concedes, stating that he’ll go over the interview questions that a few reporters have sent over for him to answer while you’re cooking. 
He follows you to wash up in the bathroom - then gives you a deeper kiss right after - and then to the kitchen. He sits on the stool by the counter while you cook rice and seafood pajeon, something you boasted about last night. 
“Babe, you think you could help me with the questions?” He asks, catching you off guard with the pet name that he uses in a different context for the first time. 
“Sure,” you hum. “Read them out loud.”
So he does, and you spend much of the hour going through them and sipping your coffee, with him pulling you for a hug when you wander to his side. 
You eat lunch while watching sports highlights on TV, then you spend the afternoon laughing over the variety TV show episodes that you’ve missed these past weeks. 
It’s 5PM when you both start dressing up for dinner that  he’ll treat you to for your first official date, he’d said, insisting that he likes eating at nice places. He has you to share the experience with this time, and he doesn’t want you to worry about expenses of any kind. He wants to eat at your favorite noodle houses, too, and that’s a plan for another day. 
You have on a skirt and top outfit that thankfully matches your new pumps. Once you finish putting on your makeup, you head to Jungkook’s walk-in closet to check on him, your throat drying up at seeing him in an all-black denim ensemble. He’s sexy enough as it is, with the skinny jeans accentuating his ass and his thick thighs. But when the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and when the buttons are undone just up to his chest to show the tank top he’s wearing underneath, sexy becomes too simplistic. Even more so when you spot the silver chain around his neck again, simple and classic but definitely dangerous.
He turns to you and takes in your look before he smirks. But just as you expect him to compliment you or even kiss you, he instead reaches out for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours when you take it. 
“Let’s go,” he says, leading you out. 
He doesn’t say much on the way to the car. He just gazes at you then smiles when you look at him. It’s during the drive when he kisses your hand, surprising you, and there’s that warmth that you feel again. You listen to the soft sounds of the radio this time, sharing in the silence the way that you used to, and it’s far from uncomfortable, especially with him thumbing your hand that he’s not letting go of. 
You make it to the restaurant where you’re seated by the window, able to appreciate the setting of the sun. The food is delicious, with the variety of tender meats causing you to silently moan at how good it is. There’s an array of dishes that Jungkook orders, and you spend the rest of dinner talking about your favorite food and the other places you want to try. 
Satisfied from the meal, you both head to the Arts Center. You know you’ll have another time to fully explore. You’ll remember how the areas looked before renovation and you’ll look on in pride at how different they are now. There’ll be opportunities for you to check every exhibition and watch performances here. When the Center hosts some of the international film festival events in two months, you’ll definitely attend and pay attention to the halls and other spaces. You’ll come during the day and appreciate the light coming through the windows, and you’ll be able to gaze at the art installations outdoors.
But tonight, you want your focus to be on the children’s library, the one that Jungkook had built for you. 
The Center closes late on weekends so you have time to savor it. You want to remember the feeling of being inside it with him, as if you’re making him part of the memory, as if you’re including him in the best moments of your childhood. 
You finally enter the grand library, appreciating the details and the grandness of it. You ask Jungkook where the archive section is now, and what the process of moving it was like. 
“I had to incorporate it in the main area instead of separating it,” he explains. “Yoongi and I found a corner to establish its presence and then scattered the pieces beyond that, putting them in glass enclosures around the desks and on the walls. I think it’s better that way; visitors become intrigued and want to learn more, so they could go around and end up exploring more of the library.”
“That’s strategic,” you say, appeased that there were gains in making the change. You stand at the entrance of the children’s space and then to him. “So, what made you decide to do this?”
He talks about his late afternoon jog one weekend and discovering a park that reminded him of the playground that his father built for him. He tells you about all the apologies his old man couldn’t make, and all the words left unsaid that Jungkook realized had held them together despite the distance and the detachment. 
“I thought about all the times that you needed someone and I happened to be there,” he continues as he follows you around inside. “And then the times when I wasn’t or no one was. I don’t ever want you to feel alone. I thought that if I’m not in your life anymore, I could at least build you something that would make you happy, that would protect you, the way you said your old neighborhood library made you feel.”
His words leave you speechless. You suppose that for someone not good with them, he finds the right ones when he needs to. You were overwhelmed with emotions the first time you saw this, and you couldn’t fully grasp how he could make something like this for you. 
That playground mattered to him, the way your old library did. Only he would understand how a space or a structure could comfort you, how it could take your fears away, and how that feeling could stay with you for a long time. He wanted you to continue feeling that whether you found your way back to each other or not, and now that you have, you feel that happiness and that safety even more.
You run your fingers across the murals then sit on the couch with the fluffy teddy bear next to you. The more you look around, the more you realize that this isn’t just meant for children. The seating areas are big enough for adults, so is the activity space at the back. It’s where those with child-like hearts and minds can stay - to reminisce perhaps, or to make new memories. You think you’ll be doing both.
“Is it close to how your library looked?” He asks, as you both walk past the shelves and you scan the books they have. 
“Jungkook, that was a semi-rundown library that used to be someone’s house. It had chipped wallpapers and creaking wooden floors,” you giggle. “This is definitely much prettier but I see so much of the old one in here. The warm lights, all the colors, the different areas to read and draw and color. The paper dolls,” you squeal. “It’s… familiar but new, just like everything with you is. I… I don’t know what else to say.”
“A thank you is fine,” he smiles, pulling you close to him. You’re behind one of the shelves, and with no one else here this late Sunday evening, he wraps his arms around your waist. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss, too.”
“You deserve more than all that,” you whisper, kissing him softly. “Thank you, Jungkook. I’ll be spending weekends here. Or when I have a tough day at work. Or when you’re away and I’m missing you.”
“Good. That way I know that when you’re down, you have somewhere to go so you could feel better. And less alone.”
That’s all he hopes, after all - that on days when he can’t be what you need, there’s a place that he built that will make you feel better. 
He treasures your smile and the way your eyes shine as you go through the picture books that have their own row of shelves. He beams at how beautiful you look being enamored with the space that reminds you of the best parts of your childhood. And he softens when you look at him with so much adoration, words seemingly not enough to express how you feel. 
You don’t say much as you walk back to the car though. When he drives to his penthouse, you hold his hand. But something inside you stirs so you guide his palm to your thigh, smiling when he caresses it. He sees you bite your bottom lip at the act, and though he’s tempted to do more, he decides that tracing your skin is what he wants to do for now.
The feel of Jungkook touching any part of your body is electrifying. He ignites a kind of desire in you that you’ve never felt before, whether it’s simply holding your hand or stroking the inside of your thigh.
Being back in the library made you feel many things. It brought back memories and made you imagine all the new ones you’ll make. It also filled you with an overwhelming need for him, as you think of all the ways you could show him your appreciation. Including one that you could do tonight.
So after making it past the door of his apartment, and after briefly watching his impeccable figure walk down his hallway, you don’t hold back. He turns around and you don’t even hear what he asks. You just head towards him and kiss him.
You kiss him hard and deep, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him as close as you can get him, even as you guide him towards his living room, knowing where you want him. He moans when you bite his lower lip, your fingers desperately gripping his shirt now as you want more. 
You pull away to catch your breath, your intense eyes saying everything you want to do to him. He caresses your cheek but only briefly, as his thumb traces your lips before pushing it past them. The sight of you sucking his finger - gentle at first before you do it desperately - has his cock throbbing, impatient to feel your mouth wrapped around it.
“Fuck. Good girl,” he says under his breath, as you lick his thumb teasingly to tell him what you want to do. 
You kiss him again, your fingers now eagerly undoing his buttons. He removes his shirt then you pull his tank top off him before you push him to sit on the couch. You stand before him and stare at him shamelessly, as he sits comfortably and stares back at you. His hands are behind his head now, with his taut arms in full display for you to salivate over. 
But it’s his chest that you want to pay attention to rigjt now, all perfectly toned and every bit breathtaking.
“Take your clothes off,” he says before you can make your move. 
“Is that an order, Mr. Jeon?” You breathe out, knowing how the name affects him. 
“Yes,” he huffs. “An urgent one.”
You smirk as he plays along, and you take your time in undressing. You watch his eyes move with you, his breaths deepening now as you bare yourself in front of him. 
“Don't touch yourself. I’ll do that,” you instruct. “And that’s not a suggestion.”
He chuckles in response but he seems to enjoy it, relaxing in his position. You take that as your cue, settling on his lap and then mapping his torso with your hands as you lick and suck his neck. He angles it to give you more space, and he hisses when you take advantage. 
Your mouth travels south, leaving kisses on his collarbone and sternum before twirling your tongue around his pert nipples that are aching for attention. He starts to pant and you decide to take your time, wanting his pleasure to build up so you could hear him beg for you this time. You moan as you nibble his buds, but your own pleasure builds, too, and with your hand feeling his thick length underneath those jeans, you suddenly can’t wait any longer.
“You like that, baby?” You whisper in his ears. “You like it when I do that?”
“Fuck, yes,” he wails. “Fuck, baby. That’s so good.”
With a few more kisses towards his hips, you move as well, now finding yourself kneeling on the floor and quickly undoing his belt. He lets you do all the work, and you don’t mind. You like how his chest rises and falls in anticipation, and when you finally free his cock, you let out an obscene sound that even you’ve never heard before.
You’ve been graced with this scene these past days, but it still leaves a lump in your throat. He’s thick and veiny and everything you want to taste and have inside you. You pull off his jeans until he’s bare as well. You stroke him once and the moan he makes is all you need. 
With your thumb on his slit, you lick up his shaft until you’re swallowing him whole, his tip hitting your throat that it makes you groan. The vibration has him grunting and it pushes you, so you start moving your mouth and hand up and down his length, with your tongue swirling over his tip and all the other sensitive parts of him. 
Your free hand explores. You stroke his leg and then brush your fingers over his inner thighs. You caress his torso when you go deep and bask in the way he breathlessly curses, over and over again. 
Needing a quick breather, you let your hands do their work. But Jungkook takes this chance to bend over and capture your mouth in his. He kisses you fervently, sucking the air out of you and you don’t really mind running out of it, not when he tastes as good as he does, when he’s as desperate for you as you are for him. He pulls on your hair gently, slowly tightening his grip when your kiss gets more intense. 
He eventually pulls away, leaving you free to tease and suck his cock once again. He moans continuously, cursing under his breath once you let him guide your head to take all of him in. His obscene sounds make it all worth it, especially once you feel his body tighten.
“Fuck, baby I’m close,” he whimpers. “Fuck, I–I need to come inside you, fuck.”
You slowly remove yourself from him, but your hand remains wrapped around his length. You look at him with your glassy eyes, desperate to feel every inch of him possible.
“Come inside me, please,” you whisper. “I want to feel you come inside me. I need…”
You pant, your eyes telling him what you really mean. You don’t want any more barriers. You want to feel him drag against your walls, to release his warmth and fill you up completely. You’ve mentioned being clean and so has he; you said in passing how you’re on implants, too. He looks at you and nods in understanding, just like all the times that you’ve spoken to each other through your gazes. With the way he heaves, he seems to want it just as much as you. 
He pulls you towards him and guides you to sit on his lap. He strokes his cock and drags his tip through your folds, teasing you before slowly pushing it inside you. He feels even more immaculate like this, and your walls embrace him immediately, as if he’s always meant to be there. You get on your knees as you position yourself to ride him, and your gentle movements follow a pace that has you keening, especially when he starts licking your pert nipples that’s been needing his attention. 
You grind against him with his hands kneading your ass to guide you. You feel him deep, and it has you breathless and wanting more.You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck for support as he pounds on you from below, and with his tight grip around your waist and his mouth sucking your breasts, you start to feel hazy.
“You feel so good around me, shit,” he moans. “Fuck, baby. You’re so perfect for me, fuck.”
He continues his thrusts and you’re so lost in the overstimulation. Your body starts to shake as you chase the high, letting it all overwhelm you. 
“Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whimper. “I’m—”
Your orgasm is a loud crash, and you feel it linger. You feel your essence coat him; you feel the slick drip out of you and stick to your bodies, mixed with the sweat from all the work of building each other up.   
He curses again as he feels the wetness all over his cock, and it’s heavenly. Feeling you like this does something to him, and he wants you to do it again. 
So he pounds even harder, not giving you much time to calm down. You moan in response, scratching his back as you hold onto him tightly while he releases all his energy onto pleasuring you and him. He slows his pace and moves in circular motions before he lays you on your back. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth knows only his name. Your hair is damp and you’re panting. And you look absolutely beautiful as you beg for him to make you come again, and for him to finally come inside you.
Watching you feel all that he can give is what he needs. With his arms propped on your sides to support him, he goes hard and deep. He’s been somewhat gentle these first few times, and he knows that that drives you wild. But he also knows that going a bit rough would make you lose your mind even more, so that’s what he does. 
He pins your arms down as he slowly pushes inside you.
“You like it like this, yeah?” He pants. “You like it when I reach this deep?”
“Yes, baby. Yes, please. Please don’t stop,” you whimper, this view of him with his damp hair and his silver chain hanging over you making you crazy.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head with how good he feels, especially when he hits you at an angle that makes your body come alive but also numb, and it’s a feeling you can’t get enough of. 
He hums in satisfaction, choosing now to suck on your neck while he continues his assault on your pussy. He licks the shell of your ear and whispers how good you make him feel.
“You take me so well, baby. Such a good girl, yeah?” He grunts. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
You can only moan in response, unable to form proper words now. And he senses it, with your mouth hanging open and your erratic breathing escaping it. 
He straightens himself, knowing what he needs to do. So he plays with your clit while his other movements continue, and that’s how you find your voice again. He quickens his pace, his thumb doing its work on your most sensitive spot while your walls pulsate around his throbbing cock. Your legs start to shake until you’re wailing in pleasure, screaming his name as you orgasm another time. He knows enough to focus on kissing you, swallowing your sounds as you come down.
But you want him to reach his peak this time, so you tell him to keep going, to find his spot so he could fill you up this time. He spreads your legs open in response, giving him a view that makes him throb even more. It’s what he needs, as he focuses on his pleasure like you told him. He bucks his hips, finding his pace that quickens then slows down then quickens again, until his erratic movements signal that he’s close, too.
“Yes, baby,” you urge him. “You’re gonna fill me up so good. I want it so bad. Come for me, please baby.”
He does a few more thrusts before he’s spilling his warm seed inside you, with him moaning out curses every second. His cum drips from your hole but he catches it with his tip, pushing it back inside you until so is he. He stays there for a while as you both catch your breaths, with him collapsing to your side while you move along with him. You can still feel his cock pulsate against your walls, and it causes you to moan. You’ve never felt that before, and it’s another intimate thing you share with him, as he wraps his arm around you and languidly kisses you after. 
“That was amazing,” he breathes out.
“It was,” you hum, smiling at him looking spent and content. “I like you here. Stay a while, please.”
He chuckles at your request but he doesn’t mind it either. It’s intimate, as all things with you beyond sex are. He just wants to stay close to you, to hear your soft breaths and revel in the feel of you, sweat and slick included. 
But as much as he could fall asleep here, he knows he shouldn’t. He pulls away and lets you head to the bathroom to clean up. He follows soon after and he catches you on the sink, removing your makeup then turning to him once you hear him arrive.
“My body’s kinda sore,” he says. “Do you wanna have a bath?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” you smile. “But we can’t stay long. You have work tomorrow so you need to sleep soon.”
“Alright,” he nods, walking to the bathtub now. “I’ll try to keep my hands off of you, then.”
Jungkook doesn’t. And neither do you, even when you both head to the shower to rinse yourselves. 
You curl in his arms right when he lays next to you, and despite all the intensity from earlier, you know that this will always be your favorite part - his fingers tracing patterns on your back, his lips constantly finding yours, and his eyes telling you all the other things that words or actions can’t say. He’s your safe place. You think from now on, he’ll always be.
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You wake up to your alarm the next morning, the ringing pulling out a groan from you; you haven’t needed it this past week and you suddenly miss just sleeping in.
But it’s Monday, the start of a new week. Jungkook will be off to work and you’ll have to go back to your own apartment and start preparing for your own job that will start next week. You manage to get yourself off the bed and his soft sheets and go to the bathroom to wash up.
Once you finish, you head out and immediately hear his grunts from where you are. You know he’s in the middle of his workout, so you peek inside the gym, finally shameless to be doing it this time. He’s shirtless doing some arm exercise on his equipment, but he has his back turned on you so you stare at it instead, instantly feeling hot at the view of his broad shoulders and slim waist. His muscles contract with every movement and you remember how that felt when you held onto them last night to keep you grounded as he pounded into you from every angle. 
His set finishes and he turns around and sees you, donned in his shirt and standing by the door. He moves to another machine, takes a seat, and starts doing a shoulder press while gazing back at you. Half of you is tempted to sit on his lap and kiss him stupid, but the other half wants to stay rooted on your spot to watch him. 
The latter wins and you stand there, thighs squeezing at the sight and sound of him, as he grunts with his every push of the weights. His eyes don’t move away from you and you just know he’s enjoying this, too, especially when he smirks once your mouth slowly opens. 
“Enjoying yourself there?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You like how I look? How I sound?”
“Oh, shush,” you frown at being teased. “You’re overdoing it. You’re not that loud when you exercise.”
“So you listen to me, huh?” He smirks again, walking towards you now. “How did that make you feel?”
“I used to come here every morning, Jungkook. I couldn’t not hear you,” you cross your arms. “And I just looked away.”
“You’re not looking away now.”
“How can I when you’re teasing like that,” you scrunch your eyebrows. 
“Is it working?”
“Were you always this cocky?” You laugh now.
“No,” he chuckles. “Just now. Only because I see your jaw dropping and your thighs squeezing.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?” 
“Oh, don’t challenge me like that,” he warns, caging you against the wall. 
He eyes your lips but he bends down towards your chest instead, biting your pert nipple that’s gotten so obvious under his cotton shirt. He nibbles on it briefly before swirling his tongue around it. You hiss, feeling the sensation all over your body with that small movement, and it’s what urges him to face you again.
“Cute,” he whispers.
He licks your mouth, prompting you to open it and let him inside, and your moan at the taste of him is immediate. Your hands move on their own, pulling him by his neck then caressing his chest like it’s natural. You start to feel the dampness in your underwear and pull away, knowing that you can’t fall into this early in the morning, and not when he has a job to go to.
“Jungkook, you have work,” you say, hating that you have to cut this moment short. “If we start then…”
“I know,” he sighs, given how you both can’t seem to stop once you get into it. “I’ll just do a bit more and then wash up. You can still watch if you like.”
“Tempting, but I’ll be making us breakfast.”
“And what’s on the menu?”
“Fried rice,” you smile.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Now I don’t need to hide how much I enjoy that.”
You giggle and let him go then head to the kitchen where you work on making enough for tomorrow, in case he wants to have it again before he leaves. You brew coffee and work around just like you used to, but with a bit more freedom this time. You hum while you cook and prepare in excitement. You’ve learned that you like doing things for him, and this is one way that you could spoil him.
Jungkook exits his gym after some ab workouts and stretching, his heart racing in a different way when he sees you in his kitchen again. It brings him back to this past year of his weekday mornings and his favorite routine.
But you’re not in your work outfit this time, and it won’t be stolen glances or comfortable silence you’ll be sharing. There’ll be more, and though this won’t be the norm, given your own job that you’ll be starting next week, Jungkook decides this is another favorite of his. He hopes for more moments of domestic bliss where it’s just you and him in his home, sharing meals and hugs and kisses in between. 
He gives himself some time before he calls your attention, wanting to savor this first before he faces a busy week, one he’ll have to go through without you. 
“Enjoying yourself there?” You tease this time. 
“Yes,” he chuckles. “It’s just… nice to start a work week with you again.”
You smile softly at him, knowing that it hurt him to be without this for weeks. You show him the bowl of fried rice you’ve made, and even you’re salivating. Perhaps it’s also because of the man standing in front of you, and the sight of him like this just never fails to take your breath away.
“It’s nice to start with this, too,” you gesture towards the food. “It’s a new recipe but I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will,” he smiles back, following you to the table and sitting next to you. 
He hums in satisfaction after the first spoonful. You watch him as he eats, endeared by the way he’s enjoying the dish despite looking like a whole meal himself. 
You both finish and you clean up while he takes a bath, quickly dressing yourself then heading to his closet. It’s no longer your responsibility but it’s a task you secretly enjoyed, so you put out a navy blue ensemble for Jungkook and set aside a few outfits that he can pack for his trips this week. 
He walks in with a towel wrapped around his waist, and you stop yourself again from wanting to do anything. It’s hard when he looks as good as he does at any time of the day, but it’s something you’ll just have to get used to. You get to be around while he puts on his clothes now, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all, given his teasing smile and soft laughter. 
You stand in front of him and fix his necktie. His eyes flit from your fingers to your face, liking that he’s able to do that this time.
“You know you don’t have to do this,” he says. “But… I like that you are.”
“It’s intimate, isn’t it? Dressing someone?” You glance at him.
You’ve done something similar in the past, like when you fixed the creases of his suit or the time he put his jacket over you. They were so simple but they stuck with you, and something in you stirs as you do this for him now. 
“It is,” he smiles back, nibbling his lower lip.
You help him wear the coat then fix his tie again. You meet his eyes and then his lips before exiting the room, your gazes saying more than words could. He picks up your bags then you both walk to the car so he could drive you home before he heads to work.
“I’ll see you tonight?” You turn to him.
“Of course. I’ll get to you at 6, is that okay?”
“Yes, I’ll make dinner,” you smile. 
He lets you go after a kiss and you head inside your apartment with all your freshly washed clothes and new shoes. It’s a nice feeling being able to go through them and then fixing them in your closet. It’s nice having this time for yourself, too. While you like being with Jungkook, you know it’s important to not forget how it’s like to be on your own. 
You do your chores for the rest of the morning while talking to Soomin and Jimin on the phone, as you’re finally able to tell them most of what’s happened since Friday night. They’re supportive, as they often are, and they seem to be looking forward to hanging out with him like you suggested. 
You go out for lunch at a small noodle house before settling at a nice cafe where you read the book that Namjoon gave you. At mid-afternoon, you head to the supermarket to buy your groceries for the next two weeks, including tonight’s dinner. Thinking about what you’ll make for him was easy; you just hope you’ll do it justice, considering that it’s one of Jungkook’s favorite things to eat. 
You don’t hear much from him during the day. He messaged you during lunch time just to say he was eating out with Yoongi then asked how you were. He didn’t respond after a few texts, which you didn’t mind. You always felt that he wasn’t the texting type, which is good because you aren’t, either. There’s at least that level of understanding and expectation on both sides. You know of his tendency to hyper focus; he’s also a very busy man, which is why you know that when he’s with you, he’s focused on just you and nothing else, which is really what you prefer. 
He calls when he’s on the way to you and before you know it, he’s ringing the doorbell and you’re being greeted by the said man who still looks impeccable after a long day. He hands you flowers and a bottle of champagne. 
“You didn’t have to but this is lovely,” you smile at him. 
You put the bouquet on a vase then place it on the coffee table. After taking his seat, you serve the dish that you’ve spent the past few hours making, wanting to make sure that the meat is tender and flavorful. The beef looks so soft and the aroma is filling your apartment. You watch him after the first bite, your heart soaring when he smiles and hums in satisfaction.
“This is so good,” he says. “Reminds me so much of the beef brisket from that restaurant near the office.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted. That dish is your favorite,” you explain. “You order it often. It was also the first dish you ever bought for me.”
He stops his movements and looks at you questioningly. 
“It was after the first board report submission,” you recall. “You instructed me to buy the team lunch from that restaurant and this is what I ordered because you always did. I… I treat it as the first meal you got for me and I wanted to try making it for you.”
Jungkook remembers that day. You were surprised that he gave that instruction. You also made sure that the team enjoyed it and thanked him for it. He liked that you enjoyed it as well, but claiming that that was the first dish he got you is technically untrue. And he’s unsure if telling you the truth is a good idea, but he supposes it’s one he can share now.
“It was actually pork cutlets with curry,” he says, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “It was on my first day. I… I made you do so many things and you missed lunch.”
The memory comes back to you. He had you annotate documents and attend meetings and you were starving the whole day.
“Right. I stayed late that day and I think Yoongi got me dinner. How was that…”
You remember more. Yoongi had spoken with Jungkook before he left then came back with a rice bowl. Is it possible that—
“I asked him to get it for you and not say it was from me,” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “The pastries during the meeting, too. Those… those were the first things I bought for you, all because I was guilty about how I treated you that day.”
You see the sadness and apology in his eyes. You suppose with how you both started, it’s easy to fall into a cycle of feeling bad about what happened, forgiving, moving on, and then remembering something again. But maybe it’s necessary this time, as you both get to know each other and settle in this new relationship. Mistakes will come up, and it’s on both of you to assure each other that it’s all okay. 
So that’s what you do, as you tell him you’re not upset when he asks if you are.
“I guess in a way, you’ve always looked out for me,” you smile at him. 
“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” he sighs, wanting to be positive about it like you are. 
But you don’t want to dwell on the past. You’ve been apologizing to each other for days and you know you’ll have to stop that at some point. 
“You’ve been soft for me since the start, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him in an effort to lighten the mood.
“I was attracted to you from the beginning,” he admits. “You were nothing like I imagined and you kept proving me wrong. I’d zone out when you spoke to me, I’d hold my breath when you were close… so I detached myself from you and that hurt you in some ways. And I knew that was wrong so I fought the feelings and that made it worse.”
“What changed?”
“I hated seeing you have a hard time, whether it was because of me or not,” he says. “One moment it was out of guilt and then the next… it was just about wanting to see you happy and safe. And then wanting to see all of that up close.”
“You get to do that now,” you smile at him. “Happy, safe… that’s what I am.”
“Good. Me, too,” he smiles back.
You continue with your meal while he talks about his relatively quiet but busy day and you talk about yours. It’s nice being able to share mundane things that happened to you with someone who does the same. 
The sadness in his eyes eventually disappears. He insists on doing the dishes this time and you both laugh as he navigates washing in the tiny sink. You sit on the couch with him, the sounds of the TV in the background merely white noise, and with your head on his chest and his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, you think that ending your days like this is a lot more peaceful and satisfying than being on your own.
“What time do you leave in the morning?” You ask. 
“7,” he responds. 
He’s got a busy week ahead - a trip to Incheon then Busan tomorrow to do some promotions of the Arts Center, and then he goes straight to Japan on Wednesday for meetings with culture and tourism ministers. He comes back on Friday evening, and that’s four days without you. It may sound silly, but that’s four days too long. He managed before though, but then again, he didn’t have much to look forward to after other than seeing you once he returned. Now, it’s that and so much more.
“I can’t believe that we just got together and now we have to do LDR,” he shakes his head.
This causes you to laugh. You angle your head and look at him, with your arms wrapped around his waist now. 
“Wow, Mr. Jeon. I didn’t think you were that dramatic,” you tease. 
He’d laugh back because he really does sound silly, but the way your soft eyes gaze at him makes him feel a little more sentimental. And definitely honest.  
“Just wanna be with you, that’s all,” he shrugs.
“You’re clingy and needy and cheesy too,” you laugh, kissing his cheek after every word. 
He groans and you’re endeared by how he pouts at you. He’s definitely been expressive about how he feels, but you’ll be apart for the next few days. You’ll be outside your little bubble of affection this time and now have to learn how to balance your relationship with every other responsibility you both have. But you want to assure him just like you hope he’d assure you.
You climb onto his lap, interlock your fingers with his, then smile at him. 
“I like it because it’s you,” you whisper. “And I like you a lot. And I wanna be with you, too. But you have duties and so do I. So you’ll get through this week and do well in those appearances and meetings, and then I can meet you on Friday for dinner and spend the weekend together. Does that sound good?”
“It does,” he smiles back, kissing your hand that has your heart racing because of how tender he does it. “I’m not really uh, a texting kind of person, but let me know how you’re doing, okay? We could talk at night and you can tell me how your day went.”
“I will. And you can tell me, too.”
You nod in agreement and hug him. You’re flushed against his chest and there’s just so much comfort in this. You exhale a deep breath as you feel relaxed, especially when he starts to rub your back. It’s calming, until his hands slip underneath your shirt and his touch slowly rouses you. You feel his desire as he hugs you tightly, and now all you want is for those hands to touch everything else, and for yours to do the same.
You sit back up then pull him forward for a deep kiss, cupping his face and inhaling him, tasting him, feeling him. You slowly unknot his loose necktie, and you feel him smile against your lips, knowing exactly what comes next. You pull away and let him lean back, giving you the space to unbutton his dress shirt while you’re snug on top of his length, liking the bit of friction you feel while you expose more of him to you. 
You reveal his torso, and he watches you admire him from this view. You’re stunning like this, especially with the desire for him painting your face. Your hands map out his body, and he tries to steady his breathing but to no avail. It’s only been a few days but he doesn’t think he’ll get over how your touch affects him anytime soon, not when it ignites something feral in him. 
But he’ll take his time just like you seem to be doing. Even your kisses on his neck and chest are slow and tender, as if you’re savoring all this, knowing you’ll be without it for a few days. You’ll both have to be outside this bubble of safety while he’s away, and he supposes it’s the start of how things will be from now on. But he’s excited for it, if his week will start and end this way. It’s something he can now look forward to, and that carries with it excitement and relief. 
Your lips trail south, the soft pecks being accompanied by your tongue and teeth doing more now. You start to rhythmically grind against his semi-hard length, and when you guide his hand under your shirt and on your breast, he lets out a low growl that has you biting your lip in anticipation. 
It’s what does it for him, and soon enough, you’re both undressed, moaning each other’s names, and damp from sweat. He’s holding you in his arms by the end of it, both your chests still heaving and minds probably hazy. But this is what he wants with you - this feeling of passion and overwhelming desire, of a kind of intensity that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Or maybe even ever. 
But he has to let you go, and when he does, there’s that comfort he didn’t think that letting you go would make him feel. He’ll go home knowing you’re thinking of him. He’ll go through his days knowing he’ll be hearing from you. And he’ll meet you eventually, knowing that it will be this same desire you’ll be sharing and expressing, and that’s definitely something he can’t wait to do again.
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You’re a little disoriented when you wake up in your bed the next morning. It’s not soft sheets that you bury yourself into this time, but then again, the body soreness is quite familiar. It’s something you don’t mind though, not when you know the reason why.
It’s only been a few days but Jungkook just seems to know your body. He seems to really like it, too, with the way he takes his time kissing it, caressing it, and praising it. He knows just how to work his tongue on your most sensitive parts to make you reach your peak. He knows just how much strength to exert, or how deep he should go in what angle, and when to increase his pace or slow down. He knows just what to say, vulgar or otherwise, or when to look at you tenderly or as if he’ll devour you, or when to grip you tightly and when to hold you softly. 
And he’d done all of that last night. While your tiny couch could only make you do so much, you both still knew what to do whether you were on top of him, on your knees, or under him. 
It was definitely a good way to say goodbye, and he would’ve gone another round if it wasn’t for you convincing him that he had to go home so he could pack his things and be ready for an early trip. You don’t want him to be too tired then oversleep, and you’re glad that he didn’t. 
You check your phone and see that he messaged you at 7:15 to say that he and Mr. Ri have already left and are on their way to Incheon. He’ll attend a meeting and then appear at an event before they take the long drive to Busan for another event where he’ll present the Arts Center and make a speech. He’ll spend the night there before an early morning flight to Tokyo. It’s the first of many post-opening promotions he’ll be doing, and you know there’ll be more of these business trips that you’ll have to get used to.
But you don’t mind being alone this time, not when you have your own preparations and rest to do, and not when you know that you’ll be hearing from him at the end of the day. There’s the weekend you’ll be looking forward to with him. 
Your mom had reminded you during a brief call yesterday about making sure you preserve your independence and identity, and you tell her that you always had.
“Yes, because those relationships were different,” she said of your exes. “You did that because you didn’t want to share much of yourself with them. But with Jungkook, you are, and it’s also the first time. Just… make sure to hold onto the things that made you happy before him, and he should, too,” she advises. “Share them, but don’t forget them. Don’t lose what makes you, you.”
It’s wisdom from someone who’d gone through relationships herself, who’d loved and lost and loved again. And it’s a good reminder. 
This is all new to you, and you suppose it’s easy to fall into this trap of dependence with your partner, of the honeymoon stage and the giddy, euphoric parts of romance. At the end of the day, Jungkook still has duties and you have a new path to take on. You’ll both have days of being too busy, too tired, maybe a bit frustrated, too. You’ll need to ground yourself in other ways and like your mom had said, not depend on the other person to always make things better, even if most days they could. 
It’s the same thing that your next-door neighbor tells you when you decide to have lunch with her after she lures you with some grilled fish. She tells you about the encounter with Jungkook and you narrate how you got together. It may all seem too much, too soon and now that you’re apart from him, maybe it is. Maybe it’s also just all the emotions you both kept in finally being expressed. 
And you think that maybe it’s also good that you have this time for yourself to remind you of all the other things you enjoy in life. Now you don’t have to treat them as substitutes for what you really desire because you already have that connection and intimacy you’ve been yearning for. You get to truly feel the joy of immersing yourself in your interests, and you suppose that’s one way to not lose yourself.
So you go back home and tend to your plants. You go to the theater and watch a local film and not feel like you’re escaping your life or anything this time. You bake cookies after your chicken in broth dinner because it’s something you’ve always wanted to try. 
You share all these things with Jungkook later that evening while you’re on a video call with him, including what your mom and neighbor had said. 
“I was a little down that you’ll be away but now I… I’m thinking I shouldn’t be,” you say. “I’ll always miss and think about you but I don’t want to feel like I miss myself when I’m with you. Am I making any sense?”
“You are,” he smiles on the screen. “It’s the same reason why you didn’t want me to miss my meeting with my father and cousin yesterday. I still have a role. Now that I’m with you, I feel like I’ll stop feeling like that weighs me down. It used to because all I was was tied to that title. I didn’t feel like I was anything else.”
You think about his words and how resigning felt liberating for you. Beyond feeling indebted, it’s clear to you that you felt stuck because it’s all you knew to do; being an assistant was all you knew how to be. It wasn’t just the stress or the pressure because you know every job you take will have those. In fact, you look forward to it in your new position. You realize that you like working, you like the hustle, you like the grind. But if it’s all you do, you lose the joy. 
Now, you have a hand to hold and a warm body to wake up to. You have someone to share your days and joys and frustrations with. You have someone to laugh with and cry to. And so days on your own feel like much-needed time to enjoy things you prefer doing by yourself. And work could feel more challenging in a good way, pushing you to be better and seeing what else you could accomplish. Somehow, being with Jungkook makes you feel like there’s so much more you could do because at the end of the day, there’s someone to celebrate with, to share your thoughts with; there’s someone to cheer you on and support you.
You tell him all this and he seems to reflect on it as well. 
“The councils were very impressed with the Arts Center,” he says after a while. “They said it’s a good complement to their efforts of promoting local artists because of the opportunities for exhibitions. At that moment, I felt proud of what we’ve done. And it reminded me of why I wanted to focus on this aspect of the job. I always told my parents that I wanted to be responsible for the creative side of the company and I am but it felt so heavy even if I asked for it. I don’t have to carry that pressure with me all the time. I get to take a break from it when I’m with you and I think that’s made me enjoy it more.”
It’s a realization Jungkook had on the way home after that dinner meeting with a local artist in Busan. She talked about envisioning her pieces displayed in a space like the Arts Center and he felt that joy of being able to create something for others to be a part of. Structures are beautiful on their own, but then the meaning deepens because of what they mean for users; the sense of fulfillment is different. He supposes that he’s able to appreciate that part of the job even more now. 
“That’s good for us, then,” you hum, as you slowly succumb to sleep. “I have quite the day tomorrow and so do you. Rest now, Jungkook. And I’ll talk to you again.”
He says goodbye with such softness in his eyes. You miss him, but you’re happy that he’s able to experience all this on his own, too. Hearing him talk about it is different than witnessing it yourself and that’s perhaps the joy in being with someone. It’s not just about experiencing what they experience; it’s also about being on the receiving end when they try to make sense of it. 
Maybe that’s what partnership is about, and you can’t imagine sharing all this to anyone else but him. And that’s the difference this time. This is a person you admire and who admires you back.  He’s someone you could trust and feel safe enough to be your true self with, and after tonight’s conversation, you feel like you’re that same person for him.
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You wake up early enough the next day and manage to send Jungkook a message wishing him well on his flight to Tokyo. He gives you a call as he’s about to board and says he has so many things lined up this Wednesday but that he’ll talk to you again in the evening. It’s a promise of tonight despite the distance, and you suppose that makes all the difference for him this time. 
You go about your busy day, too. You make yourself a simple breakfast and then head to Rkive Publishing for your onboarding. You requested this to be done earlier so that you could focus on your tasks when you start on Monday, and Namjoon gladly agreed to your request.
He introduces you to Won-woo, your co-production officer who’ll be handling projects alongside you, and to the associates and assistants whom you’ll manage to get the books ready for selling. The team seems a lot more relaxed than what you’re used to, and they share your excitement in working together soon.
Namjoon shows you your desk and turns over your laptop. He introduces you to the rest of the staff and lets the HR go through all the administrative matters with you. He gives you a folder with all the existing and upcoming projects that the associates prepared, including the processes and suppliers list, as well as your team’s personnel files. 
You smile at the documents because preparing these used to be your job, and now you’re at the receiving end of it. It’s a different feeling, but being here today excites you even more. 
You join them at a book launch and take notes of how it’s being run. As a small company, planning these events is done by a special team composed of a staff member from every department but there isn’t really someone who manages it. That’s a responsibility given to you because of your background, and it’s a challenge you’re willing to take. You have more freedom this time and you have ideas. You observe how Namjoon and the other managers engage with the author and his team. It’s definitely different from what you’re used to, and you feel there’s more sincerity in these people than the millionaires you had to deal with at your old job. 
You feel accomplished at the end of it, and it’s something you share with Jungkook again that evening when you eat your Chinese takeout while he munches on some dessert over the phone. 
Not wanting to stay home the next day, you go to a park and finish reading your book. You decide to go to the library at the Arts Center and go through the project documents. You walk around, too, able to take in more of the surroundings with the sun still out. It’s a calming place that has you coming up with ideas for book launches, as you take note of the indoor and outdoor spaces that could definitely hold those types of events. You feel fulfilled, and it’s something you share with Yoongi during dinner later that night. 
You share it with Jungkook, too, over a late evening video call after he had drinks with some business partners. He sounds quite tipsy, and he goes on about having your lemon ginger tea that you convince him to ask room service to make. You remind him of his lunch breakfast meeting and afternoon flight, and tell him that you could both meet for dinner after he clocks out of work.
It’s what you do the next day, as you wait for him at a French restaurant that you reserved for tonight. You turn around when he calls your name, and your smile is immediate when he comes up to you and hugs you tightly. He sounded tired when he called on the way here, and you suppose that he hasn’t really properly rested these past few days. He’s been going from one meeting or event to another, and he’s said before how the socializing drains all of his energy. 
You feel that now, as he exhales deeply while his arms wrap around you. 
“Long week, huh?” You say after you both take your seats. 
“Crazy,” he shakes his head. “Talking about the plans was exciting but the actual talking was tiring.”
He goes on about how the rest of his trip went and you laugh at his commentary about all the people he’s met and his observations. You realize just how much is on his mind, and it reminds you of all the times that you’d seen him look detached when in fact, he’d been making notes and plans in his head. 
Once the food arrives and you salivate at the dishes, he says he’ll stop talking about work now.
“It’s part of your day. Why should you stop talking about it?” You turn to him with a pout.
“I don’t want to bother you about it.”
“But I like hearing you talk about it,” you say. “I like knowing what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours.”
“There’s always too much going on inside it,” he laughs. “I don’t always know how to make sense of them.”
“It’s because you don’t talk about them,” you point out. “I’m here to listen. I always am.”
He smiles and shares what happened today during the meeting he had with the team to discuss all the proposals they’ve been getting with regards to promoting the Arts Center. A subsidiary company is handling operations and marketing, but other than the planned partnerships with the Culture Ministry and the International Film Festival organizers, Jungkook didn’t expect other industries, as well as local and foreign companies and institutions, to want to partner with Jeon Corporation as well, specifically him. 
He had a phone meeting with his father and Hoseok during the drive from the airport about how they can strategically go about this but that requires more canvassing and research. This is something they can tap on, and it’s good for the company image and sustainability. Residential and commercial infrastructure have always been their expertise but they can build on the cultural sides of property development, too, and Jungkook would be at the forefront of that.
“Monitoring the Arts Center is a big task in itself. I’m gonna have to set a plan for how the VP Office is going to handle it, among many other things,” he says. 
“Maybe it’s time to revisit each team member’s portfolio and responsibilities,” you suggest. “Under Hoseok, only Manager Lee and Chin-sun directly handled projects, but they were all small ones so they could handle multiple. Do-hyun and Yohan managed all administrative affairs and I oversaw a bit of everything. Monitoring the Arts Center might require more than one person so maybe Chin-sun could do it with Do-hyun as a form of mentorship. You have the call to give projects to the young ones now, and maybe add another person to help with administration and events planning. Lucas could need that support.”
Jungkook is quiet and you’re afraid you might’ve crossed a line by advising him on what he could do as VP. You may have been his assistant but that doesn’t mean you could just go on and suggest things. You don’t even know if it’s appropriate to do this. He didn’t even technically ask for your opinion. 
You’re about to apologize when he speaks.
“Those are great ideas. I’ll be meeting them about their development and professional goals soon. Maybe I could align expanded responsibilities and portfolios with that,” he hums. “And mentorship is good, too. Hoseok said he planned on doing that but he had to oversee so many projects that it got pushed back so maybe I can institutionalize that now. And yeah, I’m seeing now that we’d need another person to ease the load off the others. I don’t want them to be overworking and actually, neither should I.”
A smile forms on your face as the ideas come flowing. He probably had thought of those already but needed a sounding board outside of the team. That would usually be his assistant but if it’s about them, he’d need another person for it. 
“I’m sorry I’m bringing this upon you,” he shakes his head. “That’s… that’s not your job anymore. You’re not my assistant anymore. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you for that.”
You didn’t really think of it that way but you don’t blame him for thinking about it. You did accuse him of wanting you to stay for the convenience of it, and maybe that’s still weighing on him.
“I don’t mind,” you assure him. “This is new territory for us, I guess, and it’s something we have to learn to navigate but this is important to you, which means it’s important to me, too. If we treat it like that, then it’s all okay.”
You caress his hand to assure him, and his smile says he understands. He’ll seek advice from his father, he tells you, and you’re glad that he’s actively working on that relationship personally and professionally. 
“How are you feeling about your first day?” He asks, his hand on your bare thigh now while you eat the chocolate mousse dessert. “Do you feel like you’re ready?”
“I’m really excited. And I think I’m ready to just get on with it,” you smile. “Being there last Wednesday helped, and I just have all these ideas for the projects we’ve got lined up. I… I even thought of having book launches in the Arts Center. As long as, you know, it’s not a conflict of interest or anything.”
Your shy smile endears him, and he assures you that it’s not a problem. You’re just using your network. At the end of the day, it’s still the managing company’s call and your own boss’ decision. But you end up bouncing off ideas with him, too, like the Arts Center hosting writing workshops or spoken poetry sessions with the authors whose books you’ll be publishing. 
“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” He says after you’ve finished dinner and you’re walking to his car. “We’re out here just coming up with these ideas.”
“We work pretty well together so it’s not a surprise,” you smile at him. “I like that there’s no pressure, too. And that we could just share these things with each other, you know?”
“That’s true. I mean, I’m not assessing you or anything,” he laughs. “But I can openly admire you for it. And then think it’s sexy when you use publishing terms that I don’t understand.”
“So that’s what you want, huh?” You giggle. “I mean, I understand. It’s how I am with you.”
“Ah, so you find it sexy when I talk about the blueprints and design stuff, then?” He teases. 
“I do,” you smirk. “A hot guy with a big brain? Of course that’s sexy.”
“Hmm, that’s nice to know,” he says, caging you against the door of the car. 
His eyes soften as he takes you in and you mirror the way he looks. 
“I’m happy I get to be with you again,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours. 
“Me, too,” you whisper back. “And I get to sleep and wake up next to you.”
“That’s always a good plan,” he hums, kissing you deeply, something he could definitely do in an empty basement parking that he couldn’t do at a restaurant. 
You fall into him immediately, and all you want is to do this without worry. “Do you mind if we spend the night at my place?” You suggest. “It’s closer.”
He laughs when he pulls away but agrees that getting home as quickly as possible is a good idea. You both enter the car and his palm is glued to your thigh again and you feel the desire heighten now that you’re alone.
Once the door of your apartment shuts, his hands are all over you immediately. You’re undressed by the time you make the short walk to your dining area, and before you could breathe from your rough kissing, you’re whimpering already with how his tongue expertly laps up your sopping cunt. 
You’re bent on the table one minute, coming on his mouth and then the next, you’ve got your leg on it while he pounds you from behind, his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts. 
You go another round in your tiny bathroom, and then another one on the edge of your bed before you’re able to properly lie on it. You’re spent after another quick shower, but it’s worth it when he fucks you as good as he does, especially after not seeing him for a few days.
You’re laid on your side, facing him who does the same. The lamp from your living room is the only source of light you have, but it’s enough for you to see his face and the smile that paints it as you explain that your bed is not as comfortable and your sheets are not as soft as his are. He says that he’ll get used to it, but you insist on passing up on your apartment next time because it’s definitely not sex-conducive unlike his penthouse. He laughs at your comments, saying that he could have sex with you anywhere and it would still be amazing. 
But that cheekiness quickly fades away, and the anxious look in his eyes starts to worry you.
It takes a while but you hear it - the pitter-patter on your window that slowly starts getting louder. You turn around and watch helplessly as the drizzle turns to a downpour in seconds, and you rush out of the bed to close the curtains. 
Jungkook looks uneasy - his jaws are clenched, his eyes flit from the window to you, and his breathing starts to quicken. His body shrivels, as he pulls the covers tight around him and you can’t imagine how anxious he feels. You turn on your speaker and put on some soft music to hopefully drown out the sounds. It works only a little, and you’re reminded of all the times that you felt powerless and unable to give him comfort.
But that’s not the case now, as his words prompt you to move.
“Come here, please,” he mumbles. “I need you with me.”
You return to your spot next to him, and he loosens his hold on the blanket to let you in. 
“I’m here, okay?” You whisper, cupping his face and looking at him in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me, Jungkook.”
His eyes soften a bit before they close, and you cover his ears with your hands the way you did all those months ago to block out the noise. It works, as his breathing starts to slow down. But his hold on your arms tightens, and you feel that he needs you as an anchor to get through this, so you shift up and let his arms wrap around you. He finds purchase in your neck while you caress his back, and you pace your breathing with his to let him know that you’re with him, and that you’re not letting him go.
The thunder doesn’t come, but you hold Jungkook the entire night to tell him that you’re there to comfort him even when the storm has passed. You drift to sleep once you hear his soft snores, letting his warmth envelope you as well.
You awake the next morning laid on your stomach like you tend to be, with only the warmth from the blanket covering you. You’re no longer hugging Jungkook. He also isn’t next to you. 
You shift on your back and then find him by the balcony, the curtains open now, allowing you to see the clear skies outside. He stands looking out, with a faraway look in his eyes the way he had the day after his nightmare. You watch him for a while, wondering what’s on his mind, if the fear still remains, or if your comfort helped him get through the night.
He senses you’re awake, so he turns around and faces you. There’s a softness in his eyes now and you wonder where that’s from.
“Hey,” he greets. “Did the light wake you?”
“No. The empty space next to me did,” you say softly, sitting up on the bed now.
“I’m sorry. I… I had to exercise a bit to expend the negative energy,” he explains. 
“What did you do?” You wonder. 
“Just some push-ups and lunges. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep. You looked pretty peaceful,” he smiles.
“I don’t even know what time I slept. But it wasn’t long after you did. How do you feel?”
“Better. It was one of those nights, you know?”
You nod, suddenly overcome with a wave of sadness and regret. He notices the change in your expression and sits on the edge of the bed facing you. 
“Hey, is everything okay?”
You look at him with a pout. “I asked you to come here. Then it rained. And I know how you like to workout in the mornings and I have nothing to offer here.”
“You know you can’t control the weather, right?” He nudges your knee. “I would’ve asked if we could come here if you hadn’t because it was closer. And you… you were all I needed last night. I held onto you like a lifeline, ___.”
“You did,” you nod, appreciating his words, even if he’s not the one who should be comforting you after what happened. “I’m glad I could do that for you. I guess I’m just… a little ashamed because this is all I have and—”
“Baby, I’m gonna stop you there before you say anything else,” he says, scooting closer to you and tilting your chin so you could look at him. “This is your home and I… I know you don’t just let anyone in. I like being here. I like being with you. And last night, that will be one of many. I know I won’t be going through that on my own anymore.”
“I can’t control the weather, right?” You repeat his words. “What if it happens and I’m not with you?”
“I’ll just imagine that you are,” he hums. “And then I can head to you the next day and I’ll feel better. And that’s… that’s new for me.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thankful that you’re able to give him as much comfort and safety that he does with you. “I’m just here even if I’m not around.”
“I know,” he smiles, leaning close to kiss you. 
You give him a soft one then pout again, saying you still have to brush your teeth, so he lets you go and you scurry to the bathroom. You return to your bed with him lying on his back now, his arm folded behind his head as he gestures to the space next to him. You climb up and lay on top of his chest, kissing him languidly as his arms wrap around your waist to hold you in place.
He’s gentle with the way his tongue rolls around with yours, and with how his hands stroke your back as they’ve snuck underneath your shirt. There’s something about the rare cool morning that has you wanting to just lazily make out with him while you feel each other up.
And that’s exactly what happens. You hum and giggle against each other’s lips, and your hand maps his torso while he palms your waist down to your thigh. 
Laying on his chest now, you turn to him.
“I’m nervous about tonight,” you confess.
“Baby, you know my parents. And you know they like you,” he says, turning to you. “Even you think that they already approve of you.”
It’s true, you remind yourself. They have always been kind to you. You’ve had several conversations with CEO Jeon and he was the one who showed you the library. They also sounded excited about dinner when they called Jungkook last week, but being around them in a different context this time makes you anxious. 
“Approval is one thing but meeting expectations is another, and that’s what I’m worried about,” you explain. “They know me as an employee but not as the woman you’re, uh, currently seeing.”
“You mean dating.”
“Yes, that,” you shyly smile. “I worked for their family and now I’m… dating their son. And there are standards to that.”
“Standards that you already meet,” he assures you. “For all that my parents are, I at least know that what matters the most to them is that I’m with someone who genuinely wants me, and considering how you can’t get your hands off me, I know you do.”
You laugh at this teasing but you don’t deny it. 
“You’re quite irresistible, if I’m being honest,” you giggle. “I’m still getting used to the fact that I could, uh, do all this with you.”
“Well, I hope you don’t get tired of it. Because I won’t.”
“Look at you being good with words and all,” you smirk. “You surprise me, Mr. Jeon. I can’t wait to know what else is inside that heart of yours.”
“Me, too, actually,” he hums, realizing that there’s still so much he doesn’t know about what he’s capable of doing and feeling this time around. “I guess we can find out together.”
You smile at his honesty and think the same. You’re on this journey of learning what your heart can do and he’ll be the one to show you that. 
You lay in bed with Jungkook for the rest of the morning, having short naps and then lazy make out sessions before deciding to wash up. You eat at a cafe for lunch then head to his place this time. He works out for a bit then joins you on the couch as you watch a show before you both prepare for that dinner at his parents’ estate. 
Mr. and Mrs. Jeon warmly greet you when you arrive. They lead you to the dining room and you tone down your amazement at the spread before you. There are all types of meat and seafood and other fancy dishes that get you curious, something Jungkook seems to notice as he fills your plate and tells you to let him know what else you want more of. 
“Don’t be shy, dear,” his mother says. “Have as much as you want. We want you to feel at home and comfortable, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jeon,” you smile. 
You try to loosen up but still act proper, not wanting to give the impression that you’re uncultured and ignorant. Their family has so much experience of traveling the world and you want to show that you can keep up, that you’re worthy of sitting and walking alongside them and their son. You seem to be doing okay, but you don’t realize how nervous you really are until you feel Jungkook’s hand wrap around your own and then his fingers interlocking with yours.
He’s warm and stable, and when you tighten your grip, you see him smile from your periphery. You smile as well, wanting him to know that you appreciate the encouragement he’s giving. And it helps, as once you’re asked about your new job, you feel yourself relax in his hold, until he slowly lets you go, showing you that you’re doing well and can hold your own.
You talk with confidence and excitement about the publishing house and your responsibilities. Jungkook watches you beam when you mention your upcoming projects and the things you’re looking forward to learning, and he thinks you’re incredibly beautiful like this. It’s new and exciting for him, too, and it’s at this moment when all the pain and frustration from losing you the first time that it all feels truly worth it. 
Jungkook doesn’t expect to be as engaged as he is once his mother asks about his trips this past week. Oftentimes he’d give simple and straightforward answers, but with you around, there’s this new kind of comfort and feeling of openness towards his parents. Perhaps it’s gratitude that they helped you and your mom all those years ago. Maybe it’s also you, because being around you makes him want to be better. It might be both of that and more - it might also be him, realizing that he’s capable of receiving and returning the love of the two people who've given him the most. 
After dinner, you all proceed to the sitting room outside that overlooks the garden. You settle with a flute of champagne and sit next to Mrs. Jeon, appreciating the moon casting over the grand space filled with big trees and flower beds and a fountain. 
“I’ve added more outdoor lights,” CEO Jeon informs Jungkook as they sip their glass of whiskey. “I’ll show you the new ones.”
Jungkook nods and gestures to you that he’ll just go with his father. You watch them head out and walk around, with the older man pointing to different posts and seemingly explaining the lighting. Jungkook engages with him, and compared to what you’d witnessed in the past, his body language this time is no longer of detachment.
“You’ve done so much for our son, ___,” his mother breaks through your thoughts, prompting you to turn to her. “I hope you never doubt your place in this family. I know it’s all new and it’s just been a week but I want you to feel like you belong here, with him and with us.”
“That’s an honor to give me, Mrs. Jeon,” you respond in gratitude. “Please know that I won’t take that for granted.”
“I feel more grateful that you’re around,” she faintly smiles. “We’re just like most families, you know? I don’t want to be ignorant in saying that but we… We have our troubles. We never say enough, we say things we don’t mean, we let distance keep us apart, we love but we don’t show it the right way. But we try. We try with our sons but it doesn’t always get through. I always feel like too much has happened and we just never knew how to make up for it.”
“I think Jungkook’s seeing that now,” you assure her. “He’s told me about wanting to spend more time with you, to celebrate birthdays and holidays. It might take time but he wants to make plans. He won’t feel so far away from you anymore.”
“And we thank you for that,” she says. “We didn’t know how to make him open up to us and there are still things we don’t know about him. We lost so many years and I… I’ve been hoping that in being back here, he’ll give us a chance and now he has. And that’s because of you. You showed him the good that’s around him and you made him open up to those good things. All it took was you.”
“He did the same for me,” you point out. “I carried a lot of pain, too, and I’ve only started to embrace the good things around me because of him. Your son has such a beautiful heart, Mrs. Jeon, and regardless of what happened, I know he took that from you, too,” your voice cracks now. 
“Oh, dear,” she huffs, taking your hand in hers. “You have no idea how much it means to me to know that.”
She wipes the tears that form in her eyes and you give her a comforting smile. 
“He cares about you, Mrs. Jeon. And he’s slowly learning how to express that.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” she smiles. “I hope you always stay by his side, dear. It can get hard sometimes, as it is with all relationships. But… I hope you hold each other’s hands throughout all of that.”
“I’m sure we’ll learn that, too,” you nod. 
You turn to where Jungkook and his father are and see that they’ve gone a bit further down. You ask his mother where they might be and she answers that they’re probably by the playground, as new lights have been installed in that area, too.
“You should go to him,” she urges. “That’s such a special place for him and I’m sure he’d want to show it to you.”
You nod and head out, your heart warming at finally being able to be in his safe space this time. You get there without catching their attention, and you look back at the humble structure before you, seeing the love that created it for a man you hold so close to you.
“That’s such a lovely playground, Mr. Jeon,” you say, prompting both men to turn to you. “Did you build this all by yourself?”
“Oh, I thought you were talking to me,” Jungkook states.
“You’re only Jungkook to me now,” you playfully shake your head, although you don’t miss the teasing way he cocks his eyebrow because you definitely still use the formalities as you please.
CEO Jeon laughs but gets back to your question. “I did. It was the first time I ever designed and constructed one and it took a while to do it. I had to figure out how to hide it from Jungkook because he would follow me out here that I had his mother take him to one of our properties in the mountains for the weekend just so I could finish it,” he laughs at the memory. “But it was all worth it. He loved it as a child and it stood the test of time.”
“It’s because you maintain it, father,” Jungkook points out. “That’s, uh, that’s dedication.”
“I knew how much it mattered to you, and that mattered to me,” the older man hums. “I wanted you to have a place where you felt safe every time you were here. Maintaining it was my way of feeling close to you.”
You watch as both of them share a look of gratitude and acceptance, and though mending this relationship will also take time, you know that with this, it’s starting to.
“Well, I’m sure Jungkook would love to show it off,” CEO Jeon smiles. “I’ll leave you both to it.”
You’re left alone with Jungkook now, and with his hand around your waist, you rest your head on his chest and hug him tight. You imagine a young boy running about, excitedly riding the swing and going down the slide and then sitting at his favorite spot while he draws buildings and the sky on his sketch pad. That same boy stands next to you now and holds you close, in a way sharing those memories with you as you stand in silence and take in the beauty of a humble playground. 
Jungkook turns and kisses you on the forehead. 
“Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Always,” you smile. “Thank you for taking me here.”
You know that for him, it’s not just about how you managed the evening with his parents. It’s also more than just a celebratory dinner for the Arts Center. Tonight is a way for him to show his parents that he’s ready to receive all the good that they’ve been showing him. 
And it’s his way of telling you that as long as you’re both navigating your pains and your fears together, everything is going to be alright.
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You spent the rest of Saturday night curled in Jungkook’s arms as you both watched a horror movie on his living room couch. On Sunday, you slept in and cooked lunch together before he took you to a spa. He insisted on getting a massage to help you relax before your big first day, and with the steam room and afternoon tea included in the couples package, you couldn’t say no. 
He looked happy seeing you satisfied. There was something about the soft kisses and sensual touches that got you relaxed and definitely turned on. You had dinner out after that then he took you home where he stayed until you started dozing off, wanting to spend time with you as long as he can before another busy week. 
Your alarm goes off on Monday morning and you immediately get up, feeling that excitement of your first day rush through you. It’s a different feeling this time - you’ll be establishing a new routine, be around a different set of people, exploring new food places to eat at for lunch, and your days will be filled with new tasks and responsibilities that you can’t wait to get to. 
You’ll learn new things and manage a team this time, and it will challenge you in so many ways. You’ll also engage with authors and artists, and you suppose that's what you’re most excited about - you want to connect with your inner self and your surroundings more, and to find peace and strength in other people’s words. 
Looking at yourself in the mirror after your shower, you can’t help but smile. There’s that joy on your face that’s new. There’s a bit of fear, too, but even then, you wish Jungkook was here to see how excited you look, or maybe to remind you that things are going to be alright. He messaged earlier to greet you good morning and you’ll probably settle with texts for now, as he might be on the way to work with Lucas next to him. 
Wrapping a towel around your body, you head out the bathroom to dress up. But that’s when your doorbell rings, and you freeze for a moment because you’re not scheduled to have anyone this early in the morning. It might be your neighbor. But it could also be—
“Babe?” Jungkook calls from the other side. “Are you still there?”
You immediately open the door to let him in and you stare at him, all dressed and ready for work.
“Hey,” you say, returning his kiss. “What are you doing here? Did Mr. Ri drive for you?”
“No, I did,” he smiles. “I told him and Lucas that I’ll just meet them at the office and I won’t be in until around 9.”
“Why?”
“Well, it’s your first day. And I wanted to get you breakfast. And drive you to work,” he explains. “Maybe ease your nerves if you’re a little anxious.”
You soften as you watch him lay out the pastries and cups of coffee on your dining table. You were just thinking about him, and now he’s here, making sure he’s got your first meal and transportation covered on this pretty important day. 
“I’m actually quite excited,” you beam. “And I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Good,” he smiles, taking his seat. “I… I know you’re a grown adult and all but I didn’t want you to go through this on your own.”
You want to hug and kiss him at this moment but doing so while wrapped in a damp towel isn’t a good idea. So you ask for a second and quickly wear your nightgown from last night, then you scurry towards him. You sit on his lap and bury your face in his neck, taking in his scent while your arms wrap around him. 
His arms wrap around you, too, tightening his grip on your waist the more you curl into his body. He adores this giddy version of you, the one that melts in joy when he does something nice. It’s wholesome, he thinks. He always believed you deserved that kind of care and treatment. He’d spoil you with whatever you like, but it’s this tenderness that he learned from you, that he wants to try to keep showing. 
You cup his face with your hands and kiss him softly while he palms your outer thigh as your legs lay on his lap. You pull away before you start to want more, grazing your nose against his instead then going to your seat. 
The pastries look divine and you already feel energized. You thank him again for making the effort to buy all this and drive to you, and his proud smile makes the butterflies in your belly go off. 
“Dress up now,” he says once you finish. “I’ll clean up here and make you coffee to-go.”
“Okay,” you mumble, leaving him to finally get ready.
Jungkook puts away the remaining food and wraps it for your breakfast tomorrow. He uses the coffee machine that his office gave as a farewell gift to make your drink that you’ll be needing to get you through the rest of the morning. He glances at you and sees you choosing between two blouses. You turn to him to show both of them, your eyes asking which one you should wear.
“Blush,” he answers. “Pairs better with the green.” 
He gestures towards the shoes next to your closet, the ones he got for you last weekend. 
“Thought so,” you smile, turning around to put it on. 
He walks towards you as you tuck it in your beige slacks and look at yourself in the mirror. He watches as you tie the knot by the neckline of your top, aligning the bows constantly. You don’t seem to be satisfied, as you pull the tails then do it all over again, straightening the bows once more. He knows you can do this even with your eyes closed, but a bit of help won’t hurt, especially as he senses that something’s causing you to be quite jittery.
“Hey,” he calls out. “Let me.”
You meet his eyes in the mirror then turn around to face him. He tightens the knot and aligns it, and you watch him the whole time he does. Something about the way he’s focused on this makes your heart race, and you smile to yourself at how the roles have reversed. 
But unlike how both of you used to stand still and hold your breaths when it was you on the other side, this time, there’s calmness despite what you’re feeling.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous,” you admit, prompting him to look at you. “It’s just that… so much has happened for me to get here and I want to do it right. I want to do well. I don’t want to fail at this, Jungkook.”
“And you won’t,” he comforts, cupping your face now as he looks at you tenderly. “You worked hard to get here, to have this kind of freedom. You deserve to pursue what makes you happy, ___, and you deserve to want it, okay? You’re gonna go there and impress everyone with your beautiful mind and admirable work ethic and kindness. And that boss of yours is going to constantly be thankful that you gave him a chance and didn’t shut him out when he spoke to you at that bookstore.”
He thumbs your cheek as you slowly smile, and he mirrors your look of adoration. 
“I’ve seen what you can do,” Jungkook continues. “And this new role, this company… they’ll test you but I know you. You’ll make them believe in your capabilities and your vision. Your heart will make them trust you. And you’ll lead them well; I don’t doubt it one bit.”
“Okay,” you nod, feeling the warmth of his words all over your body.
You’re thankful that he decided to come today, as you probably would’ve stressed about so many things and then become anxious right as you’re entering the office. 
But you aren’t. You feel confident and excited and for the first time, you feel like yourself. It’s not because you’re tying your identity and purpose to a job again, which is what pulled you down before. But right now, you don’t feel the baggage of your past. You don’t feel like you’re performing a role. You don’t feel emptiness or disconnection from things and people around you. 
Perhaps this is when you start to really get to know who you are -  as a professional, as a leader, as a potential artist… Maybe as a lover and someone’s partner, too, as you take what Jungkook is giving you. This is when you get to know yourself as a person and what you can give to others and how much you can receive. This is when you get to know yourself outside of what you do and let it be about what you feel and think and enjoy. 
This is when it could be about what you love. And perhaps this is when you learn what your heart could truly do, and you can’t wait to explore all that with him.
“Thank you,” you mumble, exhaling a sigh of relief once you feel his soft lips against your forehead. “I’m glad I’m not doing this on my own.”
Jungkook just smiles, content on seeing that joy and calmness on your face. You stop him when he pulls you to finally leave the house, and you think there’s one thing you can do for him this time.
You align his necktie, and while he’s been doing it correctly recently, you can’t pass up on this part of your routine together. 
He smiles again and kisses your hand in thanks, then he leads you to his car where he drives the half hour to your office, all while your fingers are intertwined with his. It’s calming and everything you need before your big day, one that will start with a meeting to prepare you for your operations planning at the end of the week. 
Jungkook pulls over on the street and faces you. And just as you’re about to kiss him goodbye, he tells you that there’s something he wants to give you as an added gift. 
You look at him in warning because you said you didn’t want anything else.
“It’s nothing grand, I promise,” he chuckles, as he retrieves a bag from the backseat. 
He hands it to you and you excitedly peek in, feeling a wave of emotion as you hold up a snake plant. 
“I heard it’s good for positive energy,” he says to fill up the silence in the car. 
He’s right because you told him that. And he’s been taking care of the one on his office desk, the one that you gave him for his birthday. He also told you the other day that looking at it now makes him feel your presence, as if you’re rooting for him even when you’re not around. You suppose that’s what he’s trying to tell you, too.
“It is,” you smile. “I heard it’s also good at reminding its owner that someone’s always there for them.”
“I can confirm that saying,” he chuckles. 
You lean over and give him a soft kiss. 
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smile, feeling the calmness wash over you. 
“You’re welcome,” he smiles back. “Now go. You can’t be late on your first day.”
You laugh and open the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” you say before walking out. 
You turn back and wave him goodbye one last time. 
It’s quite symbolic, as you think about Jungkook as happiness, dropping you off at a new place that already gives you another kind of fulfillment. You used to think there was only one way to feel it, that it only consisted of one thing or person. 
You realize that happiness could be in many forms, and that the feeling of connection and intimacy is alive, it’s ongoing, it’s a constant pursuit that’s both tangible and elusive, and it requires vulnerability; it requires strength. 
As you enter your new office and greet your new colleagues, and as you place the plant with the ‘good luck’ note on it on your desk and retrieve the supplies that your former team gave you, you see all the things that connect you to your past and the ones that clarify your new present. There’s so much to learn and unlearn - how to be good to yourself is one of them, and you can’t wait for that, too.
“Ms. Cho,” a deep voice calls out. 
You look at the man in front of you and you both share a brief moment of silence before bursting in laughter.
“It feels weird,” Namjoon says. He straightens himself before turning to you again. “___,” he corrects. “Meeting time, let’s go.”
It’s casual and comfortable and everything you need. You don’t want the formalities either, and it’s this type of environment that you truly believe will make you better. 
You follow him to the meeting room and there’s a wave of nostalgia that hits you, especially once you start taking minutes that you shouldn’t be doing anymore. 
You laugh to yourself. Maybe there’ll always be that person in you, but you don’t pity her anymore; in fact, you admire her. It’s her strength and grace that got you here, and you know it’s the same things that will make you appreciate and protect and fight for all the things that you have now. 
That includes your job. That includes yourself. And that definitely includes Jungkook.
END.
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saintobio · 1 day
Text
blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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TWO YEARS LATER
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
811 notes · View notes
chunghasweetie · 3 days
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𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— part 1
— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk
— summary | after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, toxic fwb, lots cursing, jealousy, angst, ratchet behavior, dirty talk, angry sex, belittling, drinking, smoking🍃, womanizer behavior, breeding kink, both 🚩🚩 , daddy kink, degrading, slapping (face), false accusations, double standards
— word count | 6.2k words
— song suggestion | love you like me — william singe
He was blocked once again.
He didn’t even know for what this time.
Well, he had a good idea.
Running his mouth again. They always argued and he was always blocked and unblocked.
This time he think he actually irritated you.
“Goddamnit Y/n.” He cursed. He pissed you off once again but now his number and his Instagram was both blocked by you.
For some reason this time irked him more than the others.
“You’re still stressing over that girl?” Jimin plopped on the couch next to him.
“I can’t believe you still fuckin on her.” Taehyung walked in, taking a seat on the couch too.
“That’s my girl ya’ll know that.” Jungkook bit his lip, staring at his blank phone screen.
“You need to get like how you used to. 3 or more at a time. Always.” Jimin spoke, “You used to be like that. You used to make fun of guys like you. Now you’re giving out free shit to some girl.”
“I mean he does get pussy from it but like, only her bro?” Taehyung looked at Jungkook. “You used to have all these girls on you. Stephanie, Nari, Seunghee, Belle, Maya… What happened to you man?”
Jungkook thought about what they said. “Shits just different now.”
“Oh my gosh she’s ruined you.” Jimin groaned. “Nah man. We’re going to a Jackson party.”
“He’s having a party?” Jungkook looked up from his phone. “Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”
“Because you’re too busy stressin’ about some bitch.” Jimin shook his head.
Before Jungkook could correct him, Jimin corrected himself. “Some girl. Before you start.”
“Anyway, it’s tonight.” Taehyung spoke.
“So bring whatever cash you got and we’re definitely gonna send you home with a girl or two.” Jimin swung his arm around his shoulder.
“Oh shit I think she’s posting about you Jeon!” Taehyung was on her phone, immediately making Jungkook’s head snap over.
“Really?!”
“No man.” He laughed. “We really gotta get you more girls. You need more pussy than just her.”
“Yeah, no more Y/n.” Jimin shook his head.
“Whatever.”
༊—
“I’m so jealous.” Seungyeon swooned over the text messages on your phone.
“I don’t see why. This looks annoying as hell.” Elkie rolled her eyes.
Jungkook🍃
Wyd
Lemme come over
I got shit for you and your friends
Omg fucking answer
You’re mad annoying
I ain’t even mean what I said fr just reply 😭
“I think it’s cute. And hilarious.” Seungyeon chuckled. “What made you block him this time?”
“He was bragging about how many girls he sells to. How they’re all pretty and thick as hell. So I just said ‘cool’ and blocked him.” You shrugged.
You and your friends had been getting ready for hours for a Jackson Wang party they had personally been invited to.
“You better not hope he doesn’t pull up tonight.” Elkie spoke.
“Yeah Y/n. Taehyung’s going and I’m sure they’ll try to convince him.” Seungyeon told her.
“He’s probably too busy getting high in his room.” Elkie replied. “Or selling in the east side.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You shook your head. “I kinda do wish he would be there though.”
“Is his dick really that good?” Elkie asked you as she was baking her makeup.
“Unfortunately it is. Like, real good.” You started to get flashbacks.
“Here she goes.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes.
“He fucks me sooo good yall don’t get it.” You began. “Even though he’s annoying and shit I’ve never had dick like his. Once we started recording our shit I can’t stop rewatching.”
“You aren’t worried he’ll show people?” Elkie asked.
“They’re all on my phone. He only has a few. Even if he does show his homeboys it’s whatever. He’s damn near louder than me anyway.” You told her.
Your phone went off, making you look over at it to see the notification.
kplug🍃 has added you on Snapchat
“Oh my gosh.” You said out loud, immediately making the girls look over.
“He fucking added you on Snapchat!” Elkie laughed out loud, “He’s crazy”
“And on his plug account?” Seungyeon’s eyes widened. “He’s obsessed.•
“What can I say? This pussy makes him insane.” You jokingly boasted.
“Did you add him back?” Seungyeon asked.
“Nah not yet. I’ll wait until I’m almost done getting ready.” You tossed your phone on your bed.
“Yeah that’ll be better.” Elkie nodded.
“Ugh I need to hurry anyway. I’m tryna look good tonight.” You groaned, looking at your barely half done makeup.
No matter what it was, you loved to look good. You were a confident woman who took pride in her appearance.
Tonight mattered. You hadn’t took good pictures in quite some time and Jackson’s party was the best place to take them at.
You had just changed up your hair last night. You had a brown base with blonde highlights. And for tonight you decided to add gold and bronze tinsel to elevate your look.
Your friends always had the same energy, wanting to look as good as they could even if it was a simple occasion.
Seungyeon and Elkie definitely showed out with you tonight.
You all had skimpier outfits on tonight. You were a low cut brown latex top with a matching black mini skirt.
Your heels were black and the strings wrapped up around your mid calf. You sprayed your expensive perfume all over, making sure you smelt as good as you looked.
Your makeup was finally done for the night and it couldn’t have looked better. You looked incredible.
The girls had taken some pre party pics in your room, posting on all social media.
“Oh Y/n! Add him back.” Seungyeon told you.
You nodded, adding Jungkook back on Snapchat.
“He’s gonna see all our videos at the party. He’s gonna regret saying all that shit to you.” Elkie laughed. “Gonna see so many dudes all up on you and start punching walls and shit.”
“He probably already is and we haven’t even left the house yet.” Seungyeon laughed with her. “The pictures we posted right now are enough to make him tear his hair out.”
“Damn right.” You giggled. “Yall got everything? I’m about to order the Uber.”
Both girls nodded, making sure they had everything they needed.
kplug🍃 just sent you a snap
You looked at the notification, “Hm.” You hummed to yourself, not opening his snap quite yet.
Once the uber pulled up all of the girls climbed in, taking more pictures in the backseat on the drive there.
You lived in a nice area, but nothing compared to Jackson’s place.
The location was one of his many homes,
“Jackson lives so far from us.” Elkie looked at the map on her phone.
“Yeah but his area is so nice. It’s worth it.” Seungyeon added. “I wonder how many people are gonna be there.”
“Girl you know it’s gonna be so packed we gonna have to get dropped off damn near a mile away.” You laughed.
“You better hope Jungkook doesn’t show up.” Elkie looked over at you, who was just opening his snap.
The snap was him a car, sitting in a car full of tackily dressed women right corner of him. One of the girls was taking the picture for him.
“I should’ve just shut up.” Elkie covered her mouth. “They’re definitely going.”
“He’s petty as hell!” Seungyeon looked over at your screen. “What does he expect you to say to that?”
“Probably nothing.” Y/n turned off the phone. “He wants to be like that he can go right ahead.”
“You’re so cool about it.” Seungyeon looked at her in amazement. “I would’ve went batshit crazy.”
“I’m not trippin because I’m not holding back at this party.” She laughed.
༊—
“Why would you guys do me like this?”
“You’re so dramatic.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We found you a car full of girls to take to the party and you’re complaining.”
“Didn’t ask for it. Y’all make me look like a charity case. I could’ve gotten plenty at Jackson’s.”
“Whatever.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You know how much play she’s gonna get there? And you’re gonna have to watch it alllll.”
“Yeah man. You’re gonna have to watch all sorts of dudes kissing up on her and shit. You’re gonna look like a bitch.” Jimin added.
“Exactly. So let us help you bro.” Taehyung smiled. “Come on it’ll be worth it. Plus, you look great man. She’ll be unblocking you in no time.”
Jungkook and the boys got in the car full of women, instantly leeching onto them.
“Hello ladies” Jimin greeted, buckling up.
“Hiii Jiminnn” They replied in union, almost fighting to talk to him.
One of them turned to Jungkook, immediately biting her lip. “Hey Kookie.”
“Hey Oliver.” He exhaled.
“It’s Olivia” She laughed. “You’re like— so funny!” Her annoying voice rang in his ears.
“Oh— my bad.”
The girls had tried talking Jungkook the entire ride there, trying to get him to open up and talk to them.
“Ouuu look at his phone.” One of the girls motioned.
“Omg look!” One was quick to snatch his phone, “He added Y/n on Snapchat, let’s send her something!”
“You guys should!” Taehyung added.
“No one needs to do that!” Jungkook tried to take it back but they already snapped pictures and sent them to Y/n on his phone.
Olivia passed the phone to Taehyung who kept repeating ‘give it to me’
“Taehyung what the hell!”
“It’s for your own good!” Taehyung held onto his phone for the rest of the ride there.
༊—
“Yep. I’m definitely gonna get sloppy drunk.” Seungyeon announced as they walked inside Jackson’s party.
“There’s no way you won’t. This shits fucking cool.” Elkie looked around the home.

People everywhere and the music was booming in all corners. Girls dancing damn near naked on tables and guys dancing around with empty shot glasses.
“Oh my gosh they’re here!” One of the guys accidentally said a bit too loud, making some heads turn towards the girls.
“Seungyeon come dance with us!”
“Y/n come on we already have shots for you!”
“Elkie come get on the table with us!”
Multiple people were trying to holler at them in attempt to get their attention.
“Yeah it’ll be hard to stay sober tonight.” Elkie laughed.
“Uh huh. And when Taehyung gets here I’m dipping.” Seungyeon giggled.
“You’re still fucking with him?!” Both girls snapped their heads.
“Y’all don’t get it! He is soooo fine whenever he talks to me I just wanna do whatever the hell he wants.” Seungyeon swooned.
“She can’t be serious.” Elkie looked at you. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking on Taehyung and you’re fucking on Jungkook. Should I just dance with Jimin tonight? Since we’re the three musketeers all of a sudden.”
“Okay Jungkook was an accident!” You defended. “You wanted weed didn’t you!”
“Cut the crap! It was one time” Elkie shook her head. “I can’t believe you two.”
“Whatever.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “You should go with me when I go talk to Taehyung. Omg! We can all hang out tonight!”
“Uh, did you forget we’re not on the best terms?” You interrupted her fantasy.
“You never are. Get over it.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “Elkie pleaseeee.”
“I can’t believe you.” Elkie kept shaking her head. “You guys are sick.”
“Who’s sick?” A voice interrupted them. “I don’t need any illness spreading around at my party.”
“Omg Jackson!” Seungyeon gasped.
“Hey ladies. Hey Y/n.” He gave you a side hug. “I knew you guys would come showing out.”
“Always. You know us.” Elkie giggled.
Jackson knew the girls very well. They’ve been around since his early party days, helping him promote and build up his status for the parties.
You always went above and beyond for him, offering to even financially support the parties during the time.
Now Jackson was so rich his party budget skyrocketed. All because of those girls he was able to be where he was now. He was more than grateful.
“I know. I shouldn’t have expected any less.” He chuckled, “I’ll tell the security upstairs about yall so don’t sweat anything okay?”
“You got new security?” You questioned him.
“Fuck yeah I did. Last party the security was too drunk to even do their fucking job. I was pissed.” Jackson shook his head.
“Everything’s all good now though,” He continued. “Gotta nice new set up and it’ll do y’all real good. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You ladies have fun, okay?”
“Thank you Jackson.” The three girls bid their goodbyes. They didn’t expect to speak to him for long, especially since he was running a huge party.
“Let’s hang out down here for a bit and then make our way up yeah?” You suggested, earning a nod from the girls.
“Unless it’s too hard for Seungyeon to keep herself away from Taehyungie” Elkie teased her.
“Oh my gosh I hate you.” Seungyeon groaned.
“Speaking of Taehyungie,” You eyes behind her. “Here comes the man of the hour now.”
“With a shit ton of girls at that.”
Seungyeon snapped her head his way. “Oh my gosh.”
“Don’t look!” Elkie turned her attention. “Act unbothered. You can’t let him know you care. Like Y/n when Jungkook calls!”
“Yeah— Okay whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “But she’s right. He’s with hella girls. He’s not thinking about you right now. You can’t act like you’re waiting for him.”
“Look at you miss love expert.” Elkie teased you. “Let’s get you drinking Seungyeon.”
“Yes! Let’s drink! Finally.” You clapped your hands.
The girls walked off to the bar, plenty of people wanting to take shots with them.
The girls played a few drinking games and partied on tables just like the girls before you.
It would be a lie to say Jungkook’s eyes weren’t locked on you.
It was just him, Taehyung, and Jungkook in their own little section, a few guys coming up to talk to them here and there.
“Oh my gosh I hate you guys.” Jimin groaned. “Taehyung you can’t do this to me too.”
“She’s so bad Jimin. I’m almost as bad as Jeon.” Taehyung stared down Seungyeon.
“I thought you wanted to drown yourself in pussy! You were hyping me and Jungkook up earlier!”
“I’m a big fat liar okay!” Taehyung folded.
Seungyeon and you were both dancing on tables, lost in your own little world with drinks in your hands.
Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a minute. Simply staring.
Damn did you show out.
He watched as many guys threw themselves at you, begging you to come down so they could have a piece.
What could he expect? You were a beautiful woman blessed with a body others would pay millions for. You could actually dance and you had looks that could kill.
You were a heavily desirable woman. Especially at a party like this where everyone knew of you.
He knew you weren’t gonna go home with any of these guys. None of them stood a chance.
He didn’t understand how he had one if he was honest.
The way you two started— having intercourse was wild and random. Just a random string of flirty led to you giving it up for him.
Goddamnit he missed you. It was a petty argument like usual. Him getting blocked just to get unblocked in the morning.
This time bothered him more than the others. Especially seeing you like this.
“Shoutout to these lovely ladies right here!” Jackson suddenly announced, all three girls surrounding him.
“My day ones right here” He said proudly.
Jackson wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.
Interesting.
Jungkook hadn’t realized you two had become so close.
Was he the reason Jungkook wasn’t unblocked yet?
“Especially Ms. Y/n here. Shit would not be possible without her.” He spoke, making everyone cheer. “Everyone treat them well tonight alright?”
Elkie and Seungyeon cheered before Jackson walked off, finishing his announcement.
Why would it not be possible without you?
None of it made sense to Jungkook.
He downed a shot, hissing at the aftermath. It made Jimin look over.
“Someone’s mad.”
“Shut up.” Jungkook huffed. “I have no reason to be.”
The girls were laughing together and drinking a bit more.
Seungyeon kept stealing glances at Taehyung.
“Oh my gosh. She’s going insane.” Elkie pointed out Seungyeon’s constant tabs on Taehyung.
“Alright we’re going upstairs.” You motioned both girls to follow you to the next story.
“Jimin we have to follow them.” Taehyung watched as they left to go upstairs.
The man rolled his eyes.
Jungkook looked over, seeing Jackson look over that way too.
“Yeah.” Jungkook opened up his mouth. “Let’s go.”
The boys shortly followed them, heading upstairs.
This level was just as intense as the first floor. The only difference was that these people smoked a bit more than they drank.
“So many bad bitches in here.” Jimin looked around. “Nice move Tae.”
“Man who cares? Where the hell is she?” Taehyung looked over.
“Goddamnit.” Jimin cursed, forced to walk over to your friend group with Taehyung.
Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled either. Especially because he didn’t know how you were going to be like.
“Hey Seungyeon.” Taehyung approached her, making her instantly turn her head.
Poor girl had been waiting for that man to talk to her all night.
“Oh. Hey.” She kept it short, just like you and Elkie told her to.
“Let me get you and your girl friends some more drinks yeah?” He offered, making it harder to fight and say no.
“Please.” She caved in, making everyone follow them to the bar.
“Fucking great.” Jimin mumbled.

It was awkward as hell. Two odd couples and two random friends all forced to hang out together.
All because of Seungyeon and Taehyung.
Taehyung got all of them drinks like he said, everyone drinking together to ease up a bit.
Taehyung and Seungyeon were lost in their own conversation.
They were so corny it was making everyone extremely nauseous.
“Are you proud of her?” Jimin shook his head, speaking to Elkie. “Your friend single-handedly ruined my friend group.”
“My friend? Your boy here started it all.” She argued.
“Like hell he did. She took advantage of him.” He told her.
She laughed. “Who’s the one who’s supposed to just drop the shit off and go?”
“You can’t blame a man for just tryna get some.” Jimin shrugged. “Not his fault.”
“You’re delusional.” Elkie rolled her eyes.
“I like how you speak to me. You wanna go make out?”
“Sure.” Elkie shrugged, walking off with Jimin.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
You were alone with Jungkook.
“So,” You began to speak. “Which girl in the car was your favorite?”
“Is that seriously how you’re gonna start this?” Jungkook stared you down.
“Hell yeah.” You chuckled. “You’re a fucking prick. You’re childish and you’re just down right stupid. Sending me some photo of some bitches. Made you feel so good being with other girls huh?”
Started off strong already.
“You know what, it did. They didn’t have a fucking loud mouth like you do. Didn’t have to hear a bunch of bullshit every two seconds.”
“See this is exactly why you’re blocked.” You scoffed. “You’re a dick.”
“You block me all the time mama.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean shit.”
“Probably doesn’t mean anything because you’re too busy with all those other bitches.”
“Me? I’m not the one fucking the party host.” He argued back.
Your eyes widened at the accusation. “Oh wow.”
You weren’t going to deny it.
It wasn’t true. You never slept with Jackson.
But Jungkook thinking that you did was enough to satisfy you.
“We’ll come back to that.” Jungkook poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue.
He was obviously very irritated.
“You’re always so angry.” You groaned.
“Because you just manage to strike that one nerve.” He shook his head.
“You’re so aggressive all the time baby.” You eased him. “Let’s drink some more. Please?”
He shook his head. “Trying to sober up. Someone needs to take you home.”
“I can Uber back.”
“By yourself?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. Your friends are long gone and most likely gonna end up going home with Jimin and Tae. Who can’t drive.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Elkie and Seungyeon were going to town on them. The couples were drunken messes.
You agreed, continuing to drink. You two talked for a bit, somewhat civilly.
The both of you couldn’t help but check each other out.
For you, that alcohol came in through your mouth and went straight to your pussy.
Jungkook’s going straight to his dick. Probably why you two always had sex whenever you hung out.
“Let’s go to Jimin’s car.” Jungkook mumbled lowly to you, making you nod.
Jungkook lets out a low whistle as you walk next to him. He couldn't help but stare at your body.
You were so fucking beautiful, he thought to himself.
The car was a bit far from the entrance. The lot was big so the parking was a bit inconvenient.
However, it was hidden well enough.
He opened the backseat car door for you, waiting for you to get in.
You could sense he was still irritated with you. It was written all over his face and you could sense it in his body language.
His anger and irritation had the opposite effect on you, making your pussy wetter than it already was.
Jungkook started the car, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.
He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body. "You know, you make me so fucking angry sometimes..." He growled, his hand reaching over to grab your thigh.
“It’s not my fault. You started it this time.” You shook your head.
"I didn't start shit," Jungkook retorted, his eyes narrowing at you. "You did. You always fucking do."
He couldn't help but get more and more irritated with you.
The idea of you and Jackson weighed heavy on him.
You were fucking Jungkook for weed. Were you fucking Jackson for drinks and party invites?
“You did last night. That’s exactly why I blocked your ass. Always running your mouth.”
Jungkook's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He couldn't believe you just said that. "You didn't have to block me. You’re so fucking dramatic."
He snapped at you, his anger getting the best of him. "I fucking hate you sometimes."
“Fine. Just drop me off right here then.” You replied, just as irritated with him now. “I’ll fucking walk home.”
“You're not fucking walking anywhere. I'll take you home." He gritted his teeth.
“Whatever. Just drive me home and you can just get rid of me after. Since that’s what you want so bad.” You folded your arms.
He couldn't believe how much of a stubborn girl you were, but he still couldn't help feeling attracted to you. Even when you were like this. "Why are you so fucking difficult?"
He glared at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.
“I’m not even doing anything.” You grabbed your purse once he pulled up to your place.
It was natural for Jungkook to let himself in. He did so again, despite their arguing.
“I thought you would approach me at the party to apologize. But no, you’re just arguing with me because you’re jealous of some guy!” You huffed.
Jungkook scoffed at your words. "Jealous? Fuck no. I just don't like seeing you with other guys, that's it."
“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re annoying. Your stupid pride won’t let you just admit it.”
You lifted up the couch cushion, a small bag of pre rolls packed away.
“You know what? Fine. I was jealous when I saw you with Jackson. Are you happy now? I fucking admitted it.
“Gonna fucking smoke with me or what?” She looked at him, ignoring him. “Got your two favorite things right here. Weed and arguing.”
He ignored her, grabbing his own preroll and lighting it up with her lighter.
“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He scoffed.
“Do you want a fucking cookie? Congrats, you actually told me the truth for once.” She took a few hits. “So you were jealous”
“Yeah, I fucking was. I don't like seeing you with other guys Y/n. It makes me want to rip their fucking heads off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Especially him.”
“Isn’t Jackson your homeboy?”
“Exactly. Why the fuck would I want to be fucking on the same girl as my bro? That makes me look like a fucking loser.” He glared at you.
“We were just catching up. We’ve known each other for mad long.” You defended.
Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you as you took a hit from the roll. He felt a surge of jealousy, but he tried to push it down.
"Just fucking catchin' up huh? With his bitch ass?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I know what kinda guy he is.”
“I know you’re not talking. Tell me, Jungkook. How many girls do you sell to that don’t pay cash? Too busy selling with their bodies.” She looked at him.
“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking start this shit again?” He chuckled, anger written all over his face. “I’ve told you the same shit over and over Y/n. I’m not fucking anyone else but you.”
“Car full of sleezy bitches all climbing on you? Yeah okay. Find that fucking hard to believe.
Jungkook understands your skepticism. Especially with the type of guys he hung around.
“Tell me this Jungkook.” You began, “How come it’s an issue when I’m with Jackson but when you’re with all these other girls I’m just supposed to believe you.”
Jungkook leaned in, his expression more serious now. He muttered. “I don’t want to do you like that.”
"I just get fucking pissed when I see other guys trying to fuck what's mine." He cocked his eyebrow.
“You’re annoying.”
Jungkook's gaze never left yours face as you rolled your eyes. He could tell you were irritated with him, but he didn't back down.
"I'm annoying cause I don't like seeing other guys around my girl?" He raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t like all these fucking guys tryna hop on you.” His eyes darkened as he stared down at you.
“I get it.” She sighed.
“Mm I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.
Jungkook turned you around, pushing you against the couch. "Fuck you piss me off. You’re just so fucking sexy" He growled, pinning your hands above your head.
"You're gonna let me fuck you like this?” He looked at you. “Because I’m fucking angry. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that slow and lovey shit right now.”
You simply nodded. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was going to happen.
Weed made you horny.
Alcohol made you horny.
And you were definitely cross faded.
“Fucking open your mouth.” He moved his hand, now slapping you across your cheek.
It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a sting.
He seen your facial expression change. “No way. You actually like that shit?”
You two always had rough and angry sex. With the amount of times you two pissed each other off, it was like second nature.
This time was different. Jungkook was livid.
“I do.” You swallowed. “N-No condom tonight please.”
This was the first time ever. You never thought those words would ever leave your lips.
You needed it bad tonight. Real bad.
“Oh wow.” He laughed sarcastically. “You’re that sick? You get onto me every fucking day for asking to hit it raw. Now you want to?”
He almost couldn’t believe it. “Letting me toss you around like a fucking ragdoll. He fucking teach you about that shit?”
“N-No Jungkook.”
He slapped you once again. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I promise. He didn’t.” You pleaded.
Jungkook let out a deep breath, knowing you submitted to him.
He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing enough for you to feel.
“Fucking embarrassing me.” He slid his pants down. “Got all my fucking friends talking about you. That what you wanted?”
“N-No.” You swallowed.
He slipped your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side.
He forcefully pushed himself inside, giving you not a single warning. “You let him fuck you raw did you?”
Staying still for a moment, knowing he would soon start fucking you with all the frustration he had in him.
“N-No I didn’t Jungkook.” You honestly replied.
“Not my fucking name.” He warned.
“You clearly wanted his attention Y/n. You think I ain’t notice that shit today?” His grip on your neck got slightly tighter.
“Changed your hair. Spend money to look good for him. Didn’t look in my fucking direction once. Get some new dick and you forget what you already have? Forgot about daddy’s dick?” He scoffed.
Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.
“T-That’s not what I—“
Jungkook's grip tightened on your hips, as he started thrusting. "Shut the fuck up Y/n." He grumbled, as he started pounding harder.
He smacked your ass, leaving a red mark. "Didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight. Figured he stretched this pussy out.”
“H-He didn’t”
“You really have the fucking guys to speak to me right now?” He slapped her.
“Mmph— sorry daddy”
Jungkook grinned, hearing the slight tremble in your voice.
You couldn’t help but be turned on by how angry he was. How degrading he spoke to you.
Him expressing how jealous he was of Jackson definitely did a number on you.
Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.
"This.. is all yours, Y/n. It always has been." He slapped your face. "Don't.. you dare fuckin' look at him again. Don’t you fuckin’
dare question if I’m with other bitches or not.”
“Won’t— promise Daddy” She apologized.
Jungkook's expression changed to an angered confusion, as you apologized. "Sorry? You think.. You fuckin' deserve my mercy?"
He hissed as he stopped thrusting, grabbed you and forced you on all four. "I'll show you fuckin' sorry."
“You're mine to fuck. Mine to spoil. Mine to hug. Mine to love.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, as he started thrusting hard again. "And you just fucking gave that away?”
“No I— Daddy no I didn’t.” You whimpered.
Jungkook's thrusts became more violent as his anger continued to fuckin boil. "You.. You fuckin' slut," He growled and smacked your ass hard once again.
“D-Didn’t fuck him.” You confessed, swallowing. “N-Never fucked him.”
Jungkook stopped thrusting, his expression was furious, he looked at you with pure shock.
"You didn't fuck him?" He repeated between gritted teeth, not entirely sure if he should believe you or not. “Are you serious?”
“N-Never fucked him.” She hit her lip.
“So you lied?” His voice was low.
“I just never denied anything you said.” She confessed, a bit ashamed now that she was confessing out loud.
"Wow Y/n." He murmured lowly, making a pause in his thrusts, as he looked at you with confusion and shock. "And you made me do all this.”
“I-“ She felt her stomach drop.
Jungkook scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was still holding you by the throat, a little tighter now as his cock started to thrust intensely again. "Yeah, you did.”
Jungkook grunted, his thrusts became louder and more intense, holding you tighter. "You're a fucking slut.."
He whispered in a low voice, his hand starting to squeeze around your throat. He pulled himself out a bit to slap your face.
“Pulled all that just for some dick? Seriously Y/n?” He grunted into your ear.
“So sorry Daddy” She apologized softly, the sensual nickname slipping from her lips.
Upon hearing you call him "Daddy" his thrusts became more intense. Hearing it made him weak everytime.
A low growl sounded out from his throat again as your body was pushed back onto the bed with each thrust deeper into you.
He snickered, his hand reaching down to slap your ass cheek, hard. "You're a fucking whore.." He moans, his thrusts are so hard that he's smacking against your body. He leaned in to bite your neck.
“Finally got the dick you wanted? I can’t fucking believe you pulled that shit.” He grunted, utterly shocked. “Can’t fucking believe you did that.”
His thrusts became even more forceful, each hard smack against your ass echoing around you.
He moans as he bites into your shoulder, teeth grinding into your skin angrily. "Why'd you fucking lie to me?" He growls into your ear.
“Wanted you— Wanted your attention.” She whimpered. “Wanted to see how you felt.”
“Yeah? That’s how you fuckin’ wanted me to confess?” He roars out angrily, his grip tightening almost painfully.
“I-It worked…” She boldly whispered.
His glare is fire as he grabs your throat, pulling you back to look into your eyes.
"You like it when I get tell you how I feel? You fuckin’ like it?” He growls out, squeezing your throat tighter for a moment before letting go.
“I liked it Daddy” She bit her lip.
His jaw almost cracks from the intensity of his teeth grinding as he hears your response.
He begins to fuck you harder, losing his anger and going into a frenzy. "You’re so fucking lucky I love to abuse this pussy.”
“Shit feels so fuckin’ good Daddy— Fuck” She cursed repeatedly.
A low groan rips from his throat, feeling your walls squeezing around him at your curse. He liked when you talked dirty. “So fucking pretty like this.”
“Lying about other dudes is different for you baby..” He huffed. “You love this dick huh baby? Tell me.”
“Yes Daddy— I fuckin’ do.” You nodded quickly.
He leans back down, biting at your bottom lip and nodding.
"That's right, you love this dick, mama. Fucking take it then." He spoke lowly, encouraging you to get more vocal and naughty while he pounds into you.
“Feels so much fucking better raw.” She rolled her eyes back. “Should’ve fucking let you months ago.”
He lets out a growl, feeling how tight your walls are on him with no condom. He nods, agreeing and liking the feeling of you raw.
"That's right mama. You ain’t believe me when I said you were the only one. Should’ve been let me hit it raw.” He chuckled. “Gonna fuck you so good now though."
He's on the brink of losing it, he knows he's about to cum soon.
He looks down at you who’s absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.
He curses, slowing down just a tad. "You fucking loving that we're doing it raw now?”
“Feels so much fucking better now. W-Want you to cum inside too.” You begged, making his eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“W-Want it so bad I— Please.”
He groans, loving the idea at your request. “Pretty girl gonna let me cum inside, I couldn’t ask for more.”
He speeds up a little bit, slamming into you roughly and grunting. "That's right, fucking want my cum? Wanna turn mama into more than just a nickname huh?”
He dirty talked her so good.
“Mm yes Daddy yes.” She swallowed.
His eyes grow wide at the idea but he smirks while he continues to thrust into you hard, making a dirty scene in his head.
"That's right, I wanna fill your womb up with my kids, make them from your tight fucking pussy, don't fight it mama. So close” He mumbled in her ear.
“Shit I’m close too.”
He knows he's close too, groaning almost in pain from not cumming yet. He continues to fuck you relentlessly as you near the edge.
"Shit! Cum on my cock mama, you need to cum, you want to cum so bad don't you?"
“Cumming fuck” She immediately let go of the feeling building up in her stomach.
He's right on the edge with you, his cock swells up before he pulls out and shoots his hot load to the side of your stomach, he's not ready for kids, at least not yet.
He slumps backwards and curses. "Fucking shit.”
The two were panting on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths.
She panted. “I’m sorry for lying Jungkook. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”
He smirks and shakes his head but still looks at you with an amused expression.
"No need to apologize momma, we're fucking both dirty. Besides we both liked it didn't we?" He winks and wraps an arm around you.
“You’re really not mad?”
“I mean it irritated me a lot when I thought you fucked him.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved now.”
“When I told you I haven’t been with anyone else I meant it.” You told him. “That’s not
something I would lie about. Especially after I pressed you for so long.”
“I know. When I seen him touch you like that I just— I thought I lost you.” He looked at you. “I just kinda thought you were using me.”
“It’s not about weed for me anymore Jungkook.” You swallowed. “It hasn’t been for a while.”
“It was never about the weed for me.” He confessed. “I just wanted to see you since the beginning.”
“You thought that was a secret?” You couldn’t help but snort.
“Okay I’m never being vulnerable with you again.” He shook his head.
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whitexwolfxx310 · 1 day
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|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||
Pairing: Bucky x female reader
Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.
Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.
Word Count: 4.3
A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo
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Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.
“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.
“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.
“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.
He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”
Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”
“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.
“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”
By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.
He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.
"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.
Him and his messes.
He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.
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Three weeks later.
While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.
“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.
You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.
Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.
“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.
“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.
“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.
“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.
“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”
“Just… what?” He takes another bite.
“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”
“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”
“I already did that-”
“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.
Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.
“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.
“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.
“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.
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About a week later is when the phone calls started.
Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.
As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.
Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.
"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.
Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."
"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.
"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."
Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"
Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.
"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.
Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."
You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.
"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.
"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.
"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.
Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.
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That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.
"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.
"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.
"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.
"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.
"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"
"No, Buck I wasn't-"
His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."
"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.
He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.
The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.
You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.
"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"
"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."
Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.
"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.
"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.
Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.
Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.
Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.
Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.
Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.
"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.
Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.
As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.
Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.
"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.
The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.
"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.
Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.
The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.
"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.
"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.
Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."
"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.
"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.
"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"
Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.
You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.
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Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...
Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.
Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.
Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.
The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.
Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.
"Look at how good you take it,"
"Oh, God!"
"Are you gonna come for me?"
"Mhm,"
"I can't hear you, princess,"
"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."
"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"
The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.
The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.
The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.
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The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.
Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.
“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.
You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”
Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.
“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.
“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.
“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”
Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”
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Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.
“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”
You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”
“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”
“Hailee!!”
“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”
*Ding*
“Hang on, I just got a text.”
“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.
Together you read the message:
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Part 2 coming soon.
If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist
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@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
Text
Yes! So, Eddie decides to take his girlfriend on a fancy dinner date, maybe at Enzo's and clean up as best as he can, but he's still Eddie, and when they walk inside, the host is sneering at him and talking down to him because of that and it makes reader pissed of, giving him a piece of her mind, and perhaps then she tells Eddie "let's go get a burger or something instead, these snobs aren't worth your money!"
Can lead to them have sex in the van because Eddie is so in awe of her defending him. Request by @somethingvicked ❤️
Mdni, 18+, the reader is extremely protective of Eddie, a little smidgen of ronance, fluff, angst and comfort. A little bit of smut.
❤️
It was your fourth date with Eddie tonight and you couldn't wait. The anticipation had been building up inside of you all day, you could barely concentrate on your shift in Family Video, and you were so excited.
You had recruited Robin and Nancy to help you pick an outfit, discussed every moment of your last date with Eddie and listened to Robin gush about Vickie.
There's this look on Nancy's face when Robin is talking about Vickie that makes you intensely curious, the tightness of her smile and a flash of something in her eyes. It looks a lot like jealousy.
Oh, you two are absolutely discussing this development later.
Exactly one hour later you're ready for your date and hear the telltale sign of Eddie's van as it parks in your driveway. The sight of Eddie takes your breath away, he's dressed up. Not dramatically or anything, he's still undeniably Eddie but he's wearing a black button-down shirt, a leather jacket and black jeans, his hair is in a neat bun and he's carrying the prettiest flowers.
He looks amazing and you take the flowers, tug him close to you for a kiss and thank him for the gorgeous bouquet.
"Hello handsome" You grin and love the way he blushes, his eyes darken as he takes in your outfit and he groans.
"Princess, we won't make it to dinner with you dressed like that" he growls and it leaves you aching with want. You're seriously considering dragging him into the house and spending all night in bed but you don't think Robin and Nancy would appreciate that.
So you take his hand, wave goodbye to the girls and head out. He's a perfect gentleman while, opens his van door for you to get inside and kisses your hand before rushing to join you on the driver's side.
"I um, booked a nice place for us sweetheart. Enzo's thought we could go somewhere fancy, treat my princess" You melt at his sweetness and feel a thrill through you. No one has ever been so sweet to you, so willing to be romantic and treat you like a princess.
But Eddie is different to any other guy you've dated and you wish the two of you had met sooner, maybe in a scenario that didn't involve monsters and shit, but if the whole upside down stuff didn't happen then you wouldn't have found the family you have now or the man who you're going to spend the rest of your life with. You know deep in your bones that he's the one.
You're soon at Enzo's and that bubble of excitement has increased tenfold. This would be a magical night...
❤️
The host annoys you from the moment you walk in, the way he looks Eddie up and down and sneers at him, that's the asshole's first and second strike.
"Hi, I have a table booked here under the name Munson" Eddie's all smiles and clutches your hand, rubbing soothing circles on your palm. It grounds you and calms you for a minute but the host is quick to piss you off.
Magical night indeed you scowl.
"You have a table here? I think you're mistaken sir. This is an expensive establishment" Eddie frowns and looks confused, he clears his throat and speaks again.
"Uh, yeah. If you could just check" he trails off as the host snorts and looks down his nose at Eddie.
"Let me be clear. We don't have your sort at this establishment" Anger slowly builds in your stomach at the stupid, smug look on the host's face. Eddie is still smiling but there is a faint tinge to his cheeks and his posture is tense.
How dare this asshole act like he's better than Eddie, that Eddie is less than him. You try to hold your tongue but that resolve lasts for only a moment. Then you snap.
"Excuse me, sir! How dare you act like my boyfriend is beneath you, where is your manager because you bet I'll be telling him about this" The host pales and that smug look is wiped off his face.
"Ma'am" you cut in before he can say any more bullshit, quite frankly you're in no mood for it.
"Don't you Ma'am me. Eddie is an amazing man, he's kind and caring, and he doesn't deserve to be judged by assholes like yourself. Maybe you should have some self-reflection and realise who the horrible person is here because it's not my Eddie"
Eddie is staring at you stunned, the faint blush is gone and is replaced by a bashful grin and big brown eyes full of adoration.
"Come on Eddie, let's go get a burger or something, these snobs aren't worth your money, first things first though, I want to speak to your manager" the host mumbles under his breath but when he sees that you aren't leaving he nods and comes back with his manager.
The manager's name is Harry and you complain about the host whose name is Jeremy. You can tell the report is taken seriously but you still don't plan on sticking around.
With a last parting glare at Jeremy, you take Eddie's hand and you're out the door.
You're so angry that you don't realise you're crying, Eddie does though and his eyes widen at your tears.
"I'm so sorry princess, this is my fault. I just wanted this night to be perfect" he sighs and runs his hand through his hair frustrated.
"Don't you apologise Eddie. It's that asshole host who is to blame. I hate people like that, who judge without even knowing the person. How amazing they are. I never ever want you to apologise for being you. I adore you" Eddie blushes at your compliment.
"So uh I know this diner that isn't far away, burger and milkshakes sound so good right now" It does and you have an intense craving for chocolate milkshakes and maybe some waffles too.
Smiling you take Eddie's hand, kiss his cheek and the two of you make your way to the diner.
♥️
"You're a goddess" Eddie sighs in reverence as you straddle him. His hands work their way up your body and he's murmuring words of awe and tenderness.
The two of you are in the back of his van, in a clouded haze of lust. Eddie's mouth is everywhere on your body that he can reach, softly suckling at the skin and leaving little love bites.
You rock against him, enjoying the way his eyes roll back and the noises that leave his mouth are sinful.
The two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other and you had tugged Eddie inside the van the two of you giggling, giddy to be with each other, literally the moment that the two of you left the diner. Eddie was still gazing at you like you were some sort of deity, awed at the way you instantly spoke up for him.
No one got to treat Eddie like that, you would still be angry now if it wasn't for Eddie's very skilful tongue and fingers making you see stars. Now you were on top and in charge and Eddie was grinning up at you eagerly, brown eyes blown wide with lust.
"Hope you're ready to have your world rocked Munson" you tease and nip at his jaw.
...
Two hours later you and Eddie come out of his van still grinning like idiots and Eddie smirking like the Cheshire cat.
"World officially rocked sweetheart"
💌♥️
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6esiree · 2 days
Text
More Than Just A Sugar Baby Pt. 2
Summary: Imagine you’re Vox’s and Adam’s sugar baby and one of you start’s to develop feelings?
Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, penetration, rubbing, swearing, if you squint there’s a bit of angst in Adam’s part. Heaven bucks are void in Hell so he just protects you from the loan sharks. Sorry, I’m a sinner thru and thru. Anyway, MINORS DO NOT READ!!!
Vox:
A doll like you didn’t belong in the porn industry—that’s what Vox told you when you asked for Valentino. But he only offered you financial salvation to get back at the moth, tired of his on and off relationship with him. How could you not accept, though, especially when porn had been your last resort? When you took Vox’s hand, he never anticipated that your arrangement would turn into something more than a simple act of revenge, but that was entirely his fault.
“Always such a good girl for me—fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Vox had your legs folded against your chest, your eyes squeezed shut as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace, the room filled with the filthy sound of your squelching cunt. You let out a loud whine as his fingers found your swollen clit, trying to coax another orgasm out of you. One, two, three, four—you counted in your head, milking his cock for what might have been the fifth time that night, the man clearly pent up.
“Such a greedy little—” Vox said, his screen buffering, “—cunt.”
He was so, so close, his thrusts growing sloppier with every second. You reached out and grabbed Vox’s shoulders, bringing him in for a kiss, but then Valentino’s contact popped up on his screen. “Shit, Val’s calling…again,” You groaned, falling back onto the mattress in defeat. The moth had called Vox about, what, several times already? It was really starting to turn you off.
“Decline it, I’m—fuck!—about to finish,” Vox said, sighing in relief as you swiped your finger across his screen. “That’s better—don’t want to cum to that fucker’s contact.”
You understood his reaction, made aware of the pair’s history when Vox eventually opened up to you. But as far as you knew, whatever love they had for each other was dead. Well, at least on Vox’s end, because Valentino was still pestering him. “Yeah, I bet,” You said before interrupting yourself with a moan, the head of his cock hitting into that velvety spot inside of you.
“Val found out about you,” Vox suddenly said, catching you off guard. “He pissed me off, so I told him that I didn’t need him anymore because I had you.”
You blinked, clearly confused. Why would Valentino care if Vox had a sugar baby? Relationships like that were purely transactional, a mutual agreement with no feelings involved. Unless Vox was suggesting that he told him that you two were a thing—no, that couldn’t be. You were a nobody compared to the man on top of you, so why would Valentino care?
“I don’t get it,” You started, your brows knitted together. “Why would Val care about me when I’m just…you know, nothing serious?”
Throughout the whole time, Vox never let up on fucking you, but he did slow down his pace and abandon your clit with your question. A funny feeling stirred in your chest as he peered down at you with an unreadable expression, seemingly debating his response. But then Vox released your legs, your throat bobbing in anticipation as he grabbed ahold of your jaw, making you look at him.
“Come on, sweetheart, you seriously can’t be that dull,” Vox said, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
“I just didn’t want to assume, that’s all,” You stammered, looking everywhere but at him. “So, uh, are you going to want me to pretend as if we’re a thing from now on?”
“Pretend?” Vox grunted, burying his cock deep inside of your cunt as he leaned into you. “Wouldn’t it be better if it were real?”
The man was a powerful and influential overlord, so you would be set for eternity, but you also came to know him more intimately as the time passed by. He treated you pretty great with your arrangement, so surely he’d be better as a partner, right? “I—yes?” You said, your eyes fluttering shut when he rolled his hips, feeling rewarded for your response. “That’s my girl,” Vox said, his cock pulsating inside of your cunt.
“Your girl,” You repeated, unable to believe the turn of events, but you weren’t complaining.
Vox hummed, leaning down to give you that kiss you had tried to give him earlier, his hand relaxing against your jaw. “How about we take a shower after this, hm?” He spoke against your lips, his eyes flitting down to see your cunt swallowing his cock, your juices dripping down your thigh. “You won’t electrocute me?” You joked. It was funny until Vox pulled out of you dragged you off the bed by your ankles, telling you “Why don’t we find out, sweetheart?” as he picked you up and took you to the bathroom.
Adam:
For an Angel, you found Adam to be pretty selfish and egotistical, saving you from the loan sharks pursuing you during the extermination in exchange for the ‘privilege of getting fucked by the first man alive.’ You only agreed because you needed an easy way out of your situation. When you nodded your head, he shoved his tongue down your throat, one hand on your breast while the other slithered past the waistband of your panties, whatever happened afterwards lost within a random sinner’s apartment.
“Fuck, babe. I just got here and you’re already so wet.”
Your face was pushed into your pillow, Adam’s chest slack against your back while he entered you from behind, your cunt eagerly swallowing every inch of his cock. He groaned into your shoulder, the edge of his mask digging into your skin, but the way he slowly massaged your clit as he bottomed out compensated for the slight discomfort it caused you.
Adam wasn’t usually this…attentive, his movements quick and sloppy as he tried to make the most out of your little meetings. But tonight, he was being gentle with you, seemingly focused on your pleasure by the way he slowly started to thrust into you, his free hand toying with your nipple. Your cunt fluttered around him, overwhelmed by all the different sensations.
“You like that?” Adam rasped into your ear, goosebumps littering your skin at the sound of his voice. “What about this, huh?” He continued, rolling the hardened bud in between his fingers.
You tried to answer him, you really did, but you were only able to muster a moan as he pulled out of you completely, the head of his cock pushing past your slick folds and back into your hole with a slow, hard thrust. “Shit, well, I guess that’s good enough,” Adam chuckled, your face flushing in embarrassment. “Shut up,” You said, but then he squeezed your nipple, making you yelp.
“Don’t tell me to shut up, bitch,” Adam grunted, lifting himself from your back, a whine escaping your throat as his hands moved to your hips.
“Call me a bitch one more time and the deal is over,” You said, glaring at him from over your shoulder, but you didn’t actually mean it.
“I don’t think that’s in your best interest, babe,” Adam said, picking up the pace and finally fucking you properly. “I’m the one who’s keeping you alive with every extermination—isn’t that just fucking ironic?”
The sound of skin slapping against skin enveloped your room, including your cries and his groans of pleasure. You constantly thanked Charlie for making the walls thick, Adam driven by the fact that he was doing something so…forbidden. But that wasn’t the only thing—he had developed a soft spot for you, feeling a distant ache in his chest whenever he heard the clock tower ring, his cue to leave.
“I can—ah, fuck, right there!—take care of myself just fine,” You said, his thrusts growing more unforgiving. “Sinners can’t truly kill each other anyway.”
“Yeah, but you can still feel pain,” Adam said, pulling out of you completely, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing.
Before you could think about asking him why he had stopped, Adam flipped you onto your back, your eyes widening as you stared back into his face, his mask nowhere to be seen. He rarely ever took it off, so of course you were surprised. “Come on, baby, I can take care of you better,” Adam said, the head of his cock brushing against your clit as he leaned in to kiss you—now that was a first, but you accepted it anyway.
Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips glided against yours, the stubble on his chin scratching at your skin, but you couldn’t care less. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling your bodies together by grabbing onto where his wings connected to his back, swallowing the yelp that escaped his throat. Apparently, they were sensitive, because he suddenly plunged his cock back into you.
“Adam! Fuck, slow down!” You cried out, your grip on his wings tightening.
“You’re so lucky I can’t impregnate you,” Adam panted, putting his forehead against yours. “Fuck, why do you have to be a stupid fucking sinner?” He added, sounding disappointed. “You don’t belong here—you should be up in Heaven, with me.”
“You don’t—what?” You said, slightly taken aback. You thought Adam had told you that he could take better care of you just to continue your arrangement, but no, there was more to it. “You don’t actually mean that, Adam.”
“Is it really hard to believe that someone like me wants more than just a simple fuck?” Adam said, sounding pained, but he still reached down to massage your clit to help you finish alongside him. “I guess that’s my fault, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” You said, and you would have offered him more words if your orgasm hadn’t hit you. “Fuck—‘m so sorry.”
Adam thrusted into you one last time, his hips stilling as he emptied himself deep inside of your fluttering cunt with a heavy sigh, his fingers withdrawing from you. “Don’t be, babe,” he said before capturing your lips with another kiss. As much as you enjoyed it, you couldn’t help but wonder where you stood with Adam—until he told you that he’d figure out a way to see you more often, and not just for sex.
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studioghibelli · 2 days
Text
right person, wrong time.
| a joel miller x reader
summary: you had loved him since you met him. as the years pass, he never leaves your mind, and the next time you see him- he's someone else's.
warnings: a lot of angst, professor!joel, aunt's husband!joel, age gap (unspecified), no outbreak!au,cheating, literally just angst i am not sorry y'all i'm sick and want people to suffer too ok thanks by love u bitchez (jk obvs for legal purposes)
author's note: for @janaispunk's 1.5k celebration! enjoy "kissing in the rain" with joel miller.
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The chilling rain was pattering against the cold car window, the heavy hand of December tugging at the wind outside. Your taxi driver was blabbering on about something or another, but you were too focused on the here and there of what was about to come.
Of the absolute shit show that was about to go down in your older brother's home.
Family Christmas in cold, lonely, crowded New York City. It was supposed to be wonderful, wasn't it? The thought made you want to throw up.
You weren't looking forward to this year's holiday season. Not one bit.
The Facebook posts were engrained into your head. They sat there, sizzling like raw meat on a grill, burning alongside the nasty coals of resentment until they were scorched like charcoal. The longer you thought about them, the worse the storm raging around in the rooms of your mind grew.
You unlocked your phone, staring down at the screen that it had been settled on for hours.
Your aunt- beautiful eyes, dazzling smile- standing in front of the Empire State Building with a handsome, and familiar, man behind her, his arms around her waist, and a subtle grin pressed to his mouth.
207 likes.
"You two are so cute together!" An Aunt Linda typed.
"OMG. Who's the Stud Muffin?" A Tiffany Hollis asked.
Fourteen heart eyes and thirty two green heart emojis from your nearly-senile grandmother.
"AHHHHHHH. Is this the guy you were telling me about? He is HAWT!" From none other than your dear mother.
You felt the familiar bubbles of jealousy brewing within your stomach. You stared at the screen until your eyes burned with the familiarity of tears, until your stomach acid was climbing and crawling up your throat. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to scream.
But when all was said and done, all you really did was press your lips together and toss your phone into your purse, shoving it all down deep inside of you.
"Is this the correct address, miss?" The driver asked, stopping the cab outside of a brick walled house. The golden hue of light twinkled out from every window, and the sound of old school Christmas music filled your ears as you opened the door.
"Yes, thank you sir." You handed him a twenty as he helped you grab your suitcases. "Happy Holidays." You chimed as happily as you could manage, walking towards the entrance of your brother's apartment.
Your whole nervous system was aflame as you stepped into the elevator. You had no clue what awaited you, but you knew whatever it was, it was going to be awkward, and it was going to be hard.
No one knew the truth. Not your aunt, not the handsome man in the photo, not your mother. And if they did, all hell would break loose.
For that man was none other than Joel Miller. Your former teacher, mentor, and most importantly to note- your old lover. You and Joel had spent many nights together, studying, fucking, talking. He taught you so many things about yourself, and entered in to your world exactly when you needed it.
In one of the darkest and most uninspired eras of your adult life, he filled it with joy and light. He sparked your interest in philosophy, introduced you to music you had never heard before, and helped you come in to your own as a young woman navigating the world for the first time.
Joel was there for you while you struggled with your mental health concerning your college graduation, he was there to help you pick out master's degree programs, he was there to comfort you when your childhood dog was put down and you couldn't be there- case in point, Joel was always there for you.
For three years of your life, he was always by your side.
Until he left.
Five Years Prior
"-And when we look to Nietzsche, many wrongly label him as a nihilist. If you are truly daft enough to believe his works are that of a nihilist, you need to learn to read better. Which is a shame considerin' y'all got into one of the best universities in the country.”
Scattered laughter echoed throughout the wood paneled room.
It was fall semester at the small liberal art's college you attended, and you had chosen Introductions to Existentialist Philosophy because you loooved philosophy.
Not.
In all truth, you were dragged in there by your best friend who refused to take it alone, and ended up staying in the class.
Not because of the subject matter of course, but because of the professor.
Dr. Joel Miller.
A rugged academic, a silent brute, and above all- an absolute dreamboat of a man.
The moment you had laid eyes on him, everything changed. You had never felt that way about anything or anyone so quickly. In a moment's notice your entire world was turned upside down. He snuck in to your dreams, trapped inside your brain like a life-sucking tadpole. You thought of him at dinner, while you were doing homework, when you went out with friends- he was everywhere all the time when it came to your thoughts.
And if you didn't do something about it, you were going to lose your mind.
So, you put on your favorite outfit, made sure your hair looked perfect, and made your way to his office for a one-on-one talk concerning your academic performance.
"I just want to know if there's anything I can do to stay on track better." You had lied straight through your teeth while you were emailing him. "Your class is important to me, and I want to make sure I excel." Another lie.
At the end of the day it didn't matter how hard you tried to look good for him, you ended up soaked to the bone by the time you reached his door, a stray rainstorm thundering down on you on your way there.
You knocked, teeth chattering, mascara running, sniffling to yourself as you blew hot air onto your hands. You honestly weren't entirely sure why you were still going through with your plan, considering the current state you were in, but something in your guts was telling you to keep going. Something deep within you just.... knew.
"Come in!" He shouted from the other side, and you heard the clanking of a keyboard as he typed away at his laptop.
You took in a deep breath, steadying yourself against the door frame.
You can do this. You can.
And you did.
You pushed the door open with a smile, and when he looked up at you, his eyebrows slowly raised.
"You're wetter 'n a water slide, girl." Oh fuck. Your knees were already weak. "Sit down, I've got a blanket around here somewhere."
"Oh, no I couldn't possibly-"
"Sit." He ordered sharply, before sending you a softer smile. He stood behind you, draping a blanket around your shoulders, before walking back to his desk. "They've invented these new things called Umbrellas. You might be interested in one." Joel teased, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Oh, have they? This is my first day off the compound, and Papa forbade me from keeping up to date with the news." You joked back. Something panged within your belly. What if he didn't like your humor? What if you sounded stupid?
You slowly looked up, and Joel was smiling at your joke. "Good sense of humor." He quipped, before grabbing his glasses that hung off his shirt. "Let me just pull up your grades here, then we can begin."
"Yes sir." You whispered. Joel cast a glance your way at the words, clearing his throat as he shuffled around in his seat.
"Alright, says here you've got a 97% in my class. I... well. Um, alright now. You did say you were lookin' to stay on track in my class, right?"
You felt your face grow hot. If only you were a worse student.
"Yes?" You squeaked.
"I don't know what to tell you, darlin'. Seems like you're pretty on track to me."
You closed your eyes for a moment, sucking in a sharp breath.
"What I'm about to say is going to...well, it's not going to be- some might- I- okay, so-fuck." You groaned.
"Come on now girl, spit it out."
Fine.
"Would you go on a date with me?"
When you garnered up enough courage to open your eyes and look at his reaction to your question, you were met with a grin. "You didn't have to do all that in your email, you know. Could've just stopped on by and asked."
"Oh. You're not going to kick me out? Yell at me? Tell me to get lost?" You were completely surprised, shocked beyond belief.
"Have I yet?" Joel asked softly, and you shook your head no. "Then I don't think I will." He took in a deep breath, picking up his cup of coffee to take a long drink, no doubt thinking to himself.
You sat there trying to catch your breath, unsure of where this sudden burst of confidence, of forwardness, came from.
Perhaps it was the universe.
"Look- I would say no... to anyone else. But..." He trailed off for a moment, his eyes tracing over your features. Joel swallowed something that became stuck in his throat, shaking his head. "But somethin' about you- I don't know. I don't know what it is."
You couldn't help the smile that had stretched across your face. "Okay, great." Were the only words you could manage to breathe out.
"How about we go downtown, away from wanderin' eyes? There's a fantastic bookstore there, and a great Mexican restaurant, if that interests you."
"Yes, yes it does. One hundred percent. Um... when?"
"I'm free now."
"Me too." You closed your eyes for a moment, unable to believe that all of this was coming to fruition.
When you opened your eyes, you were standing at the door of your brother's place, Christmas boxes in hand. You were coaching yourself on what to say when you saw Joel.
"Hi, nice to meet you. My name is... no, no. That wouldn't work."
"Oh! You must be new around here- no, dammit! This isn't a workplace. Fuck."
"Hey there, silver fox! Do I know you from somewhere? Like the six thousand times we've fucked? No, no. UGHH!" You screamed out right as the door was opening, and a group of people in the foyer stopped talking, all turning to look at you in unison as your mother fully opened the door.
You stood there like a deer in front of the headlights of a car, too stunned to speak. Hopefully, if the Holiday Spirits were on your side, they would have not heard any of what you just said.
"Oh!" She pulled you in to a tight hug, and soon you were flooded with lavender perfume and hugs from all sorts of relatives. "Your siblings are in the kitchen, grandparents are on their way. We're so happy to see you!"
You smiled, dropping your backs at the entrance. "Yeah, me too." You lied through a dazzling smile, taking off your scarf and hat.
"How has Austin been treating you?"
"Who?" You asked, looking up as you were kicking off your boots.
"Austin.... Texas?"
You could have slapped yourself in the forehead. "Oh-oh, yeah. Austin is great. Not cold like here!"
"It's so funny, you know. Aunt Marie's new boy toy- oops, did I say that? I'm so bad. He's definitely something though, rawr." Your mom giggled through the rim of her wineglass as you took off your layers.
"Mom!"
"Sorry, sorry. Like I was saying, Marie's new boyfriend is from Austin too. Maybe you know each other!"
"That's great, mom."
"Do you want to go meet him?"
"Can I take my things upstairs first?"
"Oh, don't be silly. It'll only take two minutes!" She exclaimed with a tipsy smile.
You stopped, staring at her for a moment. If you resisted, she may think something was up. If you went ahead and met this 'stranger', perhaps you could just get it over with and spend the rest of the night with an upset stomach and a glass full of whatever liquor you could tolerate.
"Fine. Fine."
You followed her, feet dragging behind with every step you took, until you reached the den. You saw your father sitting on a leather couch with a cigar and a glass of bourbon, accompanied by your aunt, your brother, a cousin, and him.
Thank the Heaven's above he wasn't looking up.
You were about to vomit all over the place. Your ears were ringing, fingers numb- oh, God. How were you going to do this?
The voice of someone or another made you come down from your thoughts, and that's when you were met with his gaze.
Just like Pavlov's dog you felt the familiar hug of warmth coursing through your veins at the sight of those honeyed eyes, knees buckling- with nerves or affection- you weren't quite sure. You grasped ahold of your father's arm as he went to hug you, holding on for dear life.
"Whoa there!" He laughed, holding you steady. "You drunk already?"
"Um..." You were doing everything you could to blink back tears. "I-"
Your dad pulled you in to a tight hug, standing by you as you held on to his arm. Joel stood up from his chair abruptly, his bourbon spilling on his gray sweater.
"Oh no, honey! Your cashmere." Your aunt spoke, before turning to you. "Hey there niece! Come give me a hug." You wobbled over to her, eyes wide and lips parted, your heart beating so hard against your chest you would be surprised if they couldn't hear it.
"H-Hi." You hugged her lightly, pulling away. For a long moment you stared at her, and a sudden urge to slam your fist across her face overtook you.
The countless thoughts of her and Joel, hugging, kissing, fucking, going to bookstores together, talking late at night- every horrible scenario you had tried to drown out for months filled your head and poured out of your ears like locomotive steam, and you were unsure of where to put all of this anger you felt.
So you gritted your teeth, slowly turning to him.
He was beautiful. He always had been. His broad shoulders pulled his sweater taut against his flesh, and a familiar golden necklace dangled from his neck, reflecting the absinthe lamp of the room.
You had given him that necklace. Your eyes filled with tears, and you quickly blinked them away. Not quick enough for Joel to miss- his face flashed with a pang of hurt, of guilt.
"I-I'm.... I'm-" You tried to introduce yourself, each time choking over your throat. It retracted like you were choking, closing in on itself each time you tried to form any sort of thought.
"Spit it out!" Your brother called with a laugh.
"We know he's attractive, but there's no need to be scared!" Marie laughed, and you saw a subtle wince prick at the corner of Joel's eyes.
You finally said your name, as quickly as you could.
Joel extended his hand, and you shook your head at him in a silent form of disbelief.
"I'm Joel." He spoke quietly, curtly, sadly. You reached out with a shaking write, and his warm, calloused palm wrapped around your own. When he went to let go, his fingers dragged down your knuckles, across the ring you wore on your middle finger that he had given you many moons ago, the ring that matched the charm on his necklace.
"Okay, I'm going.... I'm going to go and put my things away."
You pushed your way out of the room and ran up the stairs, gasping for air once you got to the hallway. You sobbed out loud, your hand covering your mouth as you fell to the carpet, rocking yourself against the dry wall. You had never been more thankful for loud, obnoxious Christmas music before.
"Thank you, Mariah Carey." You muttered, throwing your head back against the wall as you wiped off your cheeks.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You whispered, the back of your hand dragging across your nose. "Fuck."
You stood back up with a vicious sniffle, grabbing your bag and tossing them onto your bed that was a few feet away. Closing the door to your bedroom slowly, you fell face first into the mattress, screaming into it. You weren't sure what emotion was overtaking you the most. Sadness? Rage? Guilt?
There was a knock at your door.
"Go away mom!" You called out.
"Ain't your momma."
You gasped out at the sound of Joel's voice, slowly standing to your feet. It must have taken you five minutes to reach the door, your whole body moving in slow motion against the caution your brain was screaming out.
When you opened the door he quickly stepped in, leaving you no time to process what was happening. He locked the door behind the two of you, his hands falling to his hips as he stood and stared down at you.
You didn't have the courage to meet him face to face, instead staring at the golden stain that had stained across his chest.
"Oh no, your cashmere." You bitterly mocked the voice of your aunt, finally looking up at him through wet lashes. "Why are you here?"
"Because your aunt and I-"
"I meant here, Joel. In my room."
He blinked a few times, taking in a quiet breath. "I ain't too sure why."
"Wha... okay." You threw your arms up in silent resignation, turning your back to him as you began unpacking your suitcase. "Then leave."
He was quiet for a long moment, before you felt a palm on your shoulder.
"Look at me, darlin'." Joel's voice was soft. He was... pleading with you.
Tears welled into your eyes again. "I can't." Your voice cracked, nails digging into your palms. "I can't." An ugly sob left you, and soon his arms were tight around you.
"Shh, s'alright now. Shh." He rocked you in his arms, his palms dragging up and down your back. "Shh, it's okay."
"It's not." You whimpered. "It's not." You pushed yourself away from him, stumbling towards the balcony. "I need some fresh air."
You stepped out onto the porch, holding on to the rails.
It was freezing, and rain was soaking you to the bone, but you had to breathe in something other than his cologne. His cologne. His woody scent that had burned its imprint in to your nostrils, never to leave.
Joel walked beside you, taking your hand.
"I didn't know she-"
"I know."
"I would never do that to you-"
"I know, Joel."
"Please look at me." He begged, and you couldn't help but look up at him. His hands moved to your face, his dark eyes full of sadness.
"Joel?" You asked quietly, a bought of worry crashing over you at his sudden silence.
"I-" He stopped himself, and you saw the tears growing in his eyes. "Every day I think about you. Every single day."
You nodded. "I do too, Joel."
"You were.... I loved you. So much. More than myself. And I- well, it took me so long to realize how selfish I was being. You're so young, you have so many possibilities ahead of you, you know?"
"Joel, I-"
"Let me finish." He whispered, his rough thumb brushing over the height of your cheekbone. "Please, let me finish. I have to."
You nodded, a shiver snapping through your body.
"And I just couldn't stop thinkin' about what would happen if we kept goin'. I was scared. I was scared of stoppin' you from fulfillin' your dreams, scared of tyin' you down. I'm an old man, honey, and I'm only gettin' older, and I just... it was selfish of me to take you away from what's supposed to be the best years of your life. Hell, give it another decade or two and you'd be takin' care of me, wipin' my ass and spoon feedin' me." He let out a sad laugh, and you followed suit, shaking your head.
"For what it's worth, Joel, I never...I never saw it like that."
"I know. I know you didn't. You never saw the bad in me. You're so patient, so kind, so.... just, you're everythin' I ever wanted, who I had always been dreamin' about."
"Then why... if- I just. I don't understand. I would have stayed with you, even when you got old and grumpy- grumpier." You corrected yourself with a sniffle and a laugh, wiping both the tears and rain off your cheek. "Why leave it all?"
"You say that now, but thing's always end up turnin' out differently. Right person, wrong time. Just like everybody always says."
Joel pushed a strand of wet hair behind your ear, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."
"Please..." You let out a soft whimper, your bottom lip quivering.
"Don't give me none of that now, honey." Joel dragged his thumb across your lip. "Don't waste no more tears on me."
"Can't make any promises."
Joel rested his forehead against yours, his liquor stained breath fanning hot across your face. Your arms wrapped around his waist as he held your face, his eyelashes brushing against your own.
"Let me kiss you." You whispered, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "One last time."
Joel nodded in agreement, his plush lips molding in to yours perfectly, the way they always had, the way they always would. You kissed him deeply, with a hunger you had never known before and a sadness you had never felt before, his sweater bunching up between your fingers. Joel let out a quiet grunt into your mouth, his fingertips imprinting upon your cheek as he pulled you closer.
If he could, he would have morphed your bodies together from this kiss, never to be apart.
But he couldn't.
This was goodbye.
His tongue swept across your lip and you parted your mouth, your tongues tangling together, tasting, exploring, tangling up together in a maelstrom of emotion neither of you were prepared to feel. With the cold rain pouring down, chilling you straight to the core, the dichotomy of heat and ice made your chest compress, the wind swirling around your bodies, nearly freezing you together.
You wouldn't mind being frozen against him, you wouldn't mind thawing out together beneath the spring sun, only to do it all again the next time Winter approached.
But you couldn't.
This was goodbye.
You both pulled away at the same time, and you couldn't help the cry that escaped you, the realization that you would never feel him again surging through your blood.
"None of that." He whispered, pulling you in for a tight hug. "None of that." His hand held on tightly to yours, his fingers tracing shapes across your fingers as he soaked in your face.
Your teeth chattered, and you walked towards the entrance back into your room.
"Goodbye, Joel." You whispered, your lip catching between your teeth. It was a stupid thing to say, considering you would see him at every family gathering. He wasn't actually going anywhere.
But he knew what you meant. He knew the weight your words carried.
"Goodbye, darlin'." He held on to your hand as long as he could, your fingers untying as you walked inside and out into the hall, heading for the bathroom.
Joel heard the shower running, and he walked back inside, his knuckles dragging across the bathroom door as he walked past. With a heavy sigh he went to go change, making his way back downstairs.
You spent the rest of the night trying to feel better, but an anchor had lodged itself into your chest. Just as you predicted, you drowned yourself in cranberry mojito's and tried to find solace in karaoke with your siblings, stories from your grandma, anything you could get your hands on, really. But nothing helped. Each time you thought you were feeling just a bit better, you would catch his gaze, and the world around you would come to a complete stand still.
It took months to start to feel at least a little bit better, yet the thought of Joel always lingered in the back of your mind. He would visit your dreams, sit with you and your thoughts at breakfast, dance with you to the music you would play while cooking. He haunted you like a ghost, and to be honest- you would rather a ghost be following you than the echo of his memory.
After all was said and one, you truly thought you were managing to cope well, until you got a letter in the mail from your aunt.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Joel Miller and Marie-
You didn't remember much after that.
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rustedhearts · 1 day
Text
just friends (again) (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: you’ve convinced everyone around you that you and steve are just friends. now you just have to convince yourself—but it proves difficult when steve finally admits how he feels.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ just friends (part one) ✶ the library
tags: pining, yearning, they want each other so bad they're so stupid, little angst/hurt/comfort, oh steve harrington the man that you are. didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes oops.
buy me a ko-fi! (my blurb commissions are also still open!)
“I’m having a little carpet picnic.”
Julia Roberts’ voice filled the living room with a familiar warmth. The pinks and whites of the Beverly Hills hotel room from Pretty Woman coated the coach and the surface of your face with a gentle glow. The Chinese food you ordered a few hours ago was starting to stink. Even Ted, who was curled at your feet for most of your movie marathon, could no longer stand the vegetative life and scampered away.
It had been a week since Eddie broke things off. After Steve punched him, you spent the Sunday post-knockout calling and texting, hoping to sort things out. But Eddie never picked up. Eddie never replied. You figured stopping by the shop was a bit too far—if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve by now.
So here you were, spending another weekend on the couch. Single. Broke. Lonely.
“He thought I was cheating on him,” is the excuse you have for getting dumped.
But the look on Theresa’s face when you told her is the first time it made you recoil. The first time you doubted that Eddie was 100%, entirely out of his mind.
Theresa winced into the overpriced lattes you were drinking at a curbside patio on Wednesday. “Well…I mean…”
And you gasped, mouth agape and heart hammering in your chest. What the fuck did that mean? Because you were just friends. All Steve ever was and is: your best friend. Why did everyone act like you were having a secret affair when the doors were closed on the public?
“You’ve gotta be kidding me—“
“I’m not defending the prick,” Theresa justified. “He was an asshole for talking to you like that. But I can see why he might have thought that. You and Steve are really close. Like…very close.”
“We’re friends,” you insisted.
And Theresa dropped it, holding her hands above her latte with innocent agreement. But her words haunted you the entire week. Every time Steve filled your coffee and had it ready on the counter for your commute to work (he even used your favorite travel mug). Every time he came home with a bag of peanut m&ms when he dropped by the store because it was the little treat you always asked for, but he didn’t even need to be asked anymore.
But like any other Saturday, the apartment was void of him for most of the day. He mumbled some excuse about going to the mall through your door this morning, and when he came home twenty minutes into Pretty Woman with an Abercrombie shopping bag, you knew he’d been date shopping.
“Hey,” he called to you, door clamping closed behind him. His keys jingled on their toss toward the table cluttered with half-opened mail.
Cheek squished against a throw pillow, body splayed flat on the couch, you cut him a glance sideways and adjusted the volume. “Hey.”
Steve kicked off his shoes and set his bag near the door, making your chest tighten when he immediately sauntered toward the couch. He turned to the tv with his hands on his hips.
He asked what he always asked, despite his eyes watching the very thing. “Watchya watchin’?”
“Pretty Woman.”
“Did you already watch Mystic Pizza?”
“Yep.”
Steve sighed. “Damn. Alright, well, scooch over.”
When he plucked your feet up and flopped down under them, he smelled like the sickeningly sweet butter of a soft pretzel, and the overwhelming stench of Abercrombie & Fitch. You couldn’t believe he still shopped there.
His hands were still resting on your ankles, bracing your feet against his jean-clad thighs. His touch was warm, soft, all-encompassing—and suddenly all you could think about even as Richard Gere came on screen. Steve's touch, his heat, the body those hands came attached to resting just inches away. He was wearing blue today. He looked so good in blue.
You swallowed and coughed, cheek rubbing on the pillow. Steve’s finger twitched around your calf.
“You okay?”
“Mhm,” you croaked.
His eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned back to Julia Roberts. "Notting Hill or My Best Friend's Wedding after this?"
Your lips parted to reply, but then his finger began tracing shapes into the patch of skin between the bottom of your pant leg and the elastic of your sock. Air choked in your throat. Your eyes bulged on the glowing television screen. The muscles in the center of your body knotted and squeezed like nausea.
In your stock-still state, it didn't even occur to you that Steve somehow knew your entire I'm-sad-and-can-only-watch-Julia-Roberts-movies marathon setlist, but it certainly crossed your mind later on. You and Steve are really close. Maybe Theresa had a point.
"Um..." Your tongue darted out to lick your suddenly-dry lips.
"You good over there?" Steve chuckled, head tipping to gauge the features and their current predicament on your face.
You buried it further into the pillow, as far as it could go without hiding completely. "Yes, Steve, I'm fine."
Steve pulled back, settling into the couch again. "Jeez, oh-kay."
He waited a moment, and you inched free from your pillow enough to bring your eye back to the television, doing your best to focus on the movie you'd seen a million times and not Steve's hand sweeping under your pant leg. He'd done that a million times, too. Touched you. Felt you.
He held your hand when you crossed the road like a child that needed guidance. He braced your back to move you which way he wanted, and to pull you close when public situational occurrences arose that made him uncomfortable. He brushed your hair once when you were victim to an ungodly illness that had you picturing death. He removed your makeup on your birthday last year when you got so drunk you puked in the doorway.
His hands were always so gentle. His touch was always so soft.
But, God, why did it feel so different right now? Why did it feel so good?
"Want a mall haul?" Steve asked, too uncomfortable in the sudden silence of the living room. He was already standing and placing your feet back on their own before you could reply.
In your periphery, he headed toward the door to retrieve the bags he neglected. "Got a couple shirts to try. Also, am I too old for that store? I swear, everyone in there was like a little Taylor Lautner wannabe from 2012—meaning they were fourteen and on steroids—"
"Steve!"
He stopped. Standing at the edge of the rug with both hands on the corded handles of his Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag to pull it open. The snicker gathering in his throat hitched into a snort, smirk drooping into wide-eyed surprise.
You never yelled. Not at him. Not at anyone that didn't deserve it, like the neighbors when they were arguing too loud again and you were trying to nap. Like the guy that tried to steal Steve's package a few months ago that you nearly tackled down the hall.
But never Steve.
You shot up on the couch, hands flying to your pounding head. "Just...please! I don't want a mall haul, I don't want to talk, I just...—I just wanna be alone."
Steve blinked, cheeks colored pink. He closed the bag slowly, paper crinkling as he went. He took it in one hand and backed up, stepping off the rug foot by foot. He glanced at Ted, who skittered in surprise at your outburst and was standing with an arched back and black pupils near the tv stand.
"Uh...yeah, okay. Sorry," he mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck.
Your shoulders slumped, deflating into the couch as Steve turned his eyes to the floor and tugged at the back of his hair. That stress tick again—the one you hated causing. He turned slowly, caution stiff in his spine. You watched his finger twist and wind into a lock of chestnut hair as he trudged into the hall. His door clamped closed a moment later.
A heavy, moaning sigh shuddered from your mouth as you flopped back on the pillow. Two arms locked over your head, pressing down on your eyes to blind them and the horror you created.
"Slippery little suckers," Julia Roberts snickered on the screen.
"It happens all the time."
✶ ✶
You ate dinner separately. It was the first time you'd ever eaten dinner separately within the same four walls. Even the night you moved in together, when you were nothing but a pair of strangers gauging how weird it might be to live with the opposite sex without something romantic or sexual in the undertones—even then, you ate a greasy cheese pizza together on the living room floor with an empty box as makeshift table.
He asked all the right get-to-know-you questions, and when he successfully made you laugh with all his snarks and quips, you knew Steve Harrington would be an alright roommate. You never figured he'd become your best friend.
Tonight, you pouted into the salad you regretted purchasing yesterday because a "healthy" lifestyle was born and had died within the span of your forty minute shopping trip. And now, you wanted nothing but another wet, shiny pizza, and Steve Harrington's dumb jokes.
He ate in his room. Shuffled out while you were finishing Notting Hill and made another bland chicken-rice-and-broccoli dinner. And then he shuffled past you, shut his door, and ate it alone. Never even giving you a chance to tease his unseasoned plate for the purpose of "gains." You thought he could remain just as toned and handsome with flavor on his food.
By the time you were showered, redressed, and gurgling with lingering hunger, you were properly sour with guilt.
And maybe the black sweatpants with the bedazzled jewels on your ass were pulled on with manipulative purpose before you shuffled to Steve's door. You lingered there a while, gnawing on the skin around your thumbnail and glancing between the wood grain of Steve's door and the plush surface of your yellow slippers. At this proximity, you could hear the low hum of his radio behind the door. He had a strange affection for the 70s and 80s station.
If only you knew that it was because Steve knew "the all time hits of the 70s and 80s" were your favorite.
The radio dimmed, and a moment later Steve's voice called through the door. "I can hear you lingering out there."
You jumped, stepping away from the door. Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth piercing the skin to nibble it away. The shuffle of feet and jingle of the doorknob came too swiftly for you to evade, and then the door swung open to reveal Steve in grey sweatpants and a tight red t-shirt. He looked good in red, too.
"Oh. Hi," you murmured, hand instantly dropping to your side.
Steve caged the doorway, biceps bulging on either side. You averted your eyes with a swallow.
He sighed. "Hi."
Steve watched you sweep a slippered foot back and forth like sloshing through water. He tipped his head and bit away a smile when he caught the edge of a jewel on your hip. His favorite sweatpants.
"Are you mad at me?"
Steve sighed again, this time a little shaken with laughter. "No, kid. I ain't mad at ya."
To prove his point, he nudged the door open with his palm and motioned toward the bedroom behind him. "Come on in."
You flopped on the edge of his bed, bounced up and down by old springs. Steve swung the door closed and joined you, easing back against his wooden headboard to reassume his rumpled position. He reached toward the nightstand and turned the knob on the radio to lower the Elton John song playing.
Steve snatched the small plastic basketball from behind the radio and tossed it in the air. "So, what's goin' on?"
You watched the ball soar into the air and come back down into his palm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just...cranky."
Steve quirked a brow, catching your eye over an orange blur when he threw the ball again. "Yeah? That all?"
The corners of your mouth pulled down. "Yeah...? What else would it be."
Steve shrugged, chin turned up toward the ceiling as he watched the basketball fly toward it. Elton John died down and switched to Def Leppard. "Hysteria" was one of Steve's favorite songs.
"You tell me. You were having a Julia Roberts marathon."
"So?" Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth ripping at the skin.
"You only watch Julia Roberts when you're sad."
"Not true."
Steve fixed his head straight again, eyes narrowing into a pointed look. The basketball sat in his right palm against his chest. You huffed, angling yourself toward the door to glare at it instead of your roommate and his smug, all knowing expression.
He waited a while, like he always did—waiting out your stubbornness and refusing to let it break him. You could talk to him, you knew that. He wanted you to know that.
"I guess..." You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed with your arms locked over your eyes. "I guess I'm just upset that Eddie still hasn't called. I've been calling and texting him, but...he doesn't wanna see me."
Steve immediately felt every blood cell in his body curdle. Like they were burning and festering, irritated under his skin. He swallowed, bringing the basketball to sit between his knees where he could pick at the design with blunt fingernails.
"And you want to see him?"
You dropped your arms, letting them plop to your sides. "I mean...yeah."
Steve couldn't help it—he scoffed.
The sound had your head turning, brows furrowed his way. His head was shaking, eyes focused distinctly downward to avoid yours. All the smugness of his expression dimmed into something distasteful and angry.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Nothing."
"You scoffed."
"I sighed."
"No, you scoffed."
"Well—"
This time, Steve did sigh. He took the basketball in his hands and chucked it toward the door, causing it to boomerang off the wood and catapult back toward the mattress again. The sharp smack had you jolting upward, and your eyes widened on Steve when he hopped from the bed and stood to his feet.
"What the hell—"
"He's not good enough for you!"
You paused on weak wrists used to push you upward. Steve stood a foot away from the bed with pink cheeks and outstretched hands. They curled back toward him to sweep through his hair and tug hard at the roots.
"Steve—"
"He sucks. Alright? All your ex boyfriends sucked, but especially Eddie. He didn't understand you, he didn't appreciate you. He made you cry, for fuck's sake, and you want him back? I just don't get it."
Your lips parted, but it felt like gulping for water on dry land. And Steve watched, helplessly, as you stammered for words in the face of his impending and inevitable confession. Inevitably painful, he knew, but he could no longer stomach the tireless routine of finding the body closest to yours in another dark bar, hoping she would comfort him enough to soothe the ache he had for you.
You, who slept across the hall and shared the sofa with your head on his shoulder. You, who looked at him like some sort of light source with those little round eyes. You, who made his heart pound and weep endlessly every second that you were near, and every moment you were away—leaving him in a constant, centrifugal loop of torture.
So—knowing it might ruin every bit of good the pair of you worked so hard to keep—Steve stepped closer to the bed and swallowed. He prepared himself to form the words he'd practiced a million times over in his head.
"I just figured that eventually...you'd get tired of all the wrong guys, and realize that...I'm here. That it was me, that you loved me. Because I love you—don't you love me?"
He paused, but it would never have been enough time for your mind to process his proclamation. He had a look of such anguish embedded in his features, all scrunched and screwed together with wet, shiny eyes.
"And I figured it was easier to sleep my way around than sit and watch you waste your time with these idiots. But they were never you. And I never bothered to get to know them, because I only wanted to know you."
Your breath hitched when Steve crowded your corner of the bed, hands clasped over his chest. You had to tip your head back to meet his eye, and you felt your arms shake in their locked position holding you up. The sight of him blurred with the onset of your own hot, salty tears.
Steve sniffed: a wet slurp proceeded by a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly and sank to his knees before you on the bed, hands coming to cradle your bent knees.
"I just can't take it any longer," he whispered, and his hazel eyes were like shiny coins gazing up at you.
His lips were wet with his own tears. His tongue swept them away. Every breath inhaled rattled in his chest, and every exhale shuddered his cheeks full. He chuckled when he rubbed his palm into his eye and turned it red, sweeping his forearm over his face to clear the tears again but they just kept coming.
"Fuck, say something, please," he huffed, lacing it with laughter despite its absence of humor.
Your throat felt like it swelled to twice the size. Sickness rolled in your stomach. But it only grew at the thought of breaking Steve's heart with your silence. Because the longer he looked at you with those almond eyes, and the longer he sniffled and massaged your knees to comfort himself—the more your heart crumbled.
"I...I don't know what to say," you croaked.
Steve inhaled again, stuttering through a sniffle. He wiped his cheek on your knee and chuckled again. "Yeah. Yeah, of course—it's okay."
"Steve—"
"It's okay," he insisted, scrambling to his feet. He backed away toward the door and you finished pulling yourself upright.
"Steve, wait—"
"Really, it's okay, honey. I'm just gonna...—we ran out of ice cream, so 'm gonna g-go—go get some. Mint chip, yeah? Okay."
He sniffled again upon his exit, slipping through a small crevice he opened the door to. The front door slammed shut moments later, and you rolled onto your stomach to unleash a scream into Steve's mattress.
"Stay tuned for more all time hits of the 70s and 80s!"
✶ ✶
Steve did not return with the mint chip until nearly midnight. It came in a plastic bag that announced his arrival even before the clamber of keys. Yet, it was the squeal of old hinges that woke you from your couch slumber, and you jolted upright as the door swung open.
Steve closed the door and stood there for a moment, spotting you in the dimness of the living room. You rubbed your eye and he shifted on his feet. Ted scampered off the couch and butted at Steve's calf.
He held up the plastic bag. "Got the mint chip. It's uh...it's all melted now, though."
You wanted to reply, to make him feel better again. His eyes were still pink and puffy, and you hated the thought of him spending hours in his car or another dark bar agonizing over what you might be thinking. Worst of all, regretting any of what he said.
Because you spent the past few hours doing plenty of thinking. You laid in his bed, curled on your side, and looked at all the pictures pinned to a cork board above his desk.
The sepia toned film strip from a wedding last fall where you took him as your date. You were smiling in every one, and to the unbeknownst you might have already appeared as a couple.
The Polaroid from his most recent birthday, where you were sitting on his shoulders and clutching onto his hair for dear life. His sister took the picture.
The black and white he printed from his phone of just you on a park bench, feeding the ducks. You never even knew he had that one.
And when you shuffled to your room, you suddenly stopped. The clack of hard-bottomed slippers caught your attention, and you looked down at the plush yellow footwear around your toes—a gift from Steve.
You stood on the other side of your bed and stared at the windowsill full of miscellaneous yellow items all gifted from Steve. The movie ticket stubs shoved in your mirror and the hundreds thrown in a box on your dresser because you'd probably seen a thousand over the years with Steve, who loved movie theater popcorn and sitting close to you in the dark.
The birthday cards he wrote extensive messages of well wishes and gratitude for your friendship in with terrible penmanship. The purse he bought you for that you said you liked in passing but would never spend that much money on, and the note still tucked inside the zipper that came pasted to the bag on Christmas morning:
Because you deserve it.
Love, Steve
And then you ended up on the couch, falling asleep watching the door and waiting for it to open.
Steve trudged to the kitchen while you were lost in thought, and you hurried to catch up as he swung the freezer open. He wrapped the plastic bag around the pint of the ice cream and stuck it on the top shelf, hand reaching to close the door—when he was pushed forward by a force crashing into him.
And then there was warmth around his stomach: two arms curling around his ribs. Two hands pressing to his stomach and pulling him in. Steve stopped, immobilized in the open freezer door.
"I'm sorry," you breathed into his shirt, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I was just so stunned. And I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, Steve, for letting this go on for so long. Of course I love you, of course you love me—God, I just never wanted to ruin everything. But you make me so happy, and I—"
Steve spun around, causing your head to lift off his back. You went to drop your arms, but he instantly brought them around his neck. Two hands, still frozen from melting ice cream, braced your cheeks.
"You mean it?"
You nodded in his hold, happy to see his hazel eyes free and clear of tears. "Yes. Yes, of course I mean it—"
"Oh, thank fucking God," Steve breathed, and then his mouth descended on you.
You curled to the tops of your toes to press into his kiss, whimpering at the warmth and softness of his lips. It felt exactly as you thought it would—anticipating their plushness every time he pressed his lips to your cheek over the years.
It lasted until the pair of you were breathless, and you heaved for air upon release. Steve brushed his thumbs over your bottom lip, smearing spit and hemming your airless grin.
He kissed you all night, and let his hands roam where they could not roam before. You fell asleep in his bed tucked under his arm, and when you woke you shared the refrozen pint of mint chip with one spoon.
And when Steve called his sister while you were showering to share the good news, all she did was laugh.
"Jesus, about fucking time."
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scribblesofagoonerr · 21 hours
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— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?
pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader
summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.
Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.
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Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.
Let me know what you think!
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"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.
It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.
You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.
Would you be good as you were when you come back?
Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.
Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.
It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.
Could you blame your dad for that though?
Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.
The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.
You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.
The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.
"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.
Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"
"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.
"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.
You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.
"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.
"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.
You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.
So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.
"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.
"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.
The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.
"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.
"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.
After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.
"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.
"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.
"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.
"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.
At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.
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As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.
At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.
Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.
They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.
Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.
You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.
You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?
"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.
Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.
"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.
"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"
Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.
Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.
You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!
If only it was that simlpe, right?
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Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.
It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.
You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.
In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.
Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.
Damn stupid knee injuries.
It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.
"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.
You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.
"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.
"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.
Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"
"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.
Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.
"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.
"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.
"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.
"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"
You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.
How could you be so careless, though?
You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.
Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.
"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.
"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.
"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.
You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.
You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.
"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.
"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.
"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.
Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.
"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.
The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."
"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.
"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.
"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.
"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.
You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.
Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.
"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.
Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.
"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.
"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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eroselless · 1 day
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PATO - FIVE
series masterlist | part 3 | part 4
[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]
warnings: pregnancy, angst, breastfeeding, spanish and google translated french
note: Yikes, the way I wrote charles is lowkey toxic, mb lol. This part reminded me of a picture i saw ages ago about how men and women deal with breakups, dudes moving on immediately and end up being sad after a few months and women being sad for a bit and then moving on after a few months. 
Anyways, shoutout to my baby sisters for being my main inspiration behind Lucero and for helping me figure out what babies do at 13 months lol I apologies in advance if some things don’t make sense, I tried my best to imitate the way they used to speak and use that for Lucero. 
Although not necessary, I listened to this playlist while I did all my writing and editing. It’s a nice bittersweet blend. If you guys wanna give it a listen, I think it would enhance the feelings in this part :)
We’re bouncing a little with the time jumps again but as always, they have the dates so its easier to track :) Happy reading!
MEXICO, OCTOBER 2024
Charles staggers into the hotel room, chest heaving as if he’s been sprinting miles without rest. His chest constricts,  each breath coming out in shallow puffs as he struggles to recompose himself. 
“Mon cœur?” he hears come from the bedroom and he no longer has it in him to hold back. Alexandra peeks out, eyes full of concern as she approaches the sobbing man. His face is buried in his hands and he would give anything to blend into the wall he’s leaning on. Guiding him to their room, she sits him down, slotting herself between his legs as he grips tight around her middle. His tears soak through her shirt as his body wracks with loud sobs. 
Frustration, anger, sadness – they all jumble together in his mind. Alexandra runs her fingers through his hair, murmuring comforts and feather light kisses into his hairline and waits for the sobs to soften before speaking. 
"Mon cœur, que s'est-il passé?" she asks, gently pushing his face away from her torso. My heart, what happened? She cradles his face as he looks up at her, silent tears staining his face. “That little girl we met today... she's my daughter. I didn’t know.” His voice is hoarse when he whispers, full of regret and guilt.
Alexandra’s eyes widen at the admission. “Charles, comment a-t-elle pu te cacher quelque chose comme ça? C'est... impardonnable," she says, her tinged with sympathy and indignation. How could she keep something like this from you? That's... unforgivable.
Charles shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut, a few tears still escaping down his cheeks. His sobs are fading in quiet hiccups as he slowly regains his breathing. “No, Alex. It’s not her fault. I’m the one who wasn’t there, it’s all my fault. I didn’t care enough, I left.”
She’s puzzled at his confession, lost in the depth of his sorrow. “What?”  
​​*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
MONACO, DECEMBER 2022
You’re lying partially on your side, arm draped over your bare chest as it rises and falls at a steady pace. He watches as you turn away, hair cascading over your back. The sheets are wrapped just over your middle, your upper body completely exposed to the air. The soft morning light filters through the room and Charles can’t help but think of the events last night.
He can still hear your voice as it echoes through the room, begging him not to stop. He can feel the crescent moons you’ve pressed into the thick muscles of his back. The ghost of your lips still lingers on his skin, like the stain of red lipstick on the collar of a white shirt. 
He leans over your sleeping figure, dragging his nose over your shoulder and pressing a ghost of a kiss there. It rouses you just enough to murmur a drowsy protest. “Don’t go,” you whisper and reach out for him, the tips of your fingers barely catching his skin. He is already on his feet. 
"I'll be back soon," he lies, slipping out before you can say anything else. He busies himself with mundane tasks, filling his day with errands that could be left for later. He thinks of you, all on your own, in your shared apartment waiting for him to come home. As you always did. He drives across the city, glancing at his phone as your messages roll in, swiping them away almost as quickly as they came. 
The truth was, being at home was proving to be increasingly difficult as time went on. His home with you, once a sanctuary, felt like a pressure cooker ready to pop. He loved you, doted on your every move but the constant fear of his career and unrelenting scrutiny of the public had slowly started to suffocate him. He couldn’t bear to break your heart and burden you with his overwhelming amount of feelings. What if he’d never be good enough for Ferrari, good enough for you? With every moment he spent away, he kept sinking into his own mind, choosing to ignore you and your attempts at breaking down his walls. He hated being away from you but he couldn’t help but pack you away into a corner of his mind, where he knew you’d be waiting for him, day in and day out. 
He comes home late that night, the guilt of having to face you gnawing at him. It's well after sunset and the night air is cool, the breeze turning icy. He walks through the door, expecting the lights to be off but is surprised to see you leaning over the sink, rinsing off dishes. 
Your face lights up when you see him, a tender smile he knows is only for him.
“Cha, you’re back,” you exclaim, turning to face the counter closest to the wall. You pick up a plate, filled generously with a meal that he could tell you spent a great deal of effort on. It’s gone cold in his absence. 
He only gives you a small smile, pressing a light kiss to your temple. He can’t help but feel a little surprised at your good mood. But he can’t bring himself to match the enthusiasm you carry in your voice.“I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, eyes not meeting yours. “I think I’ll just shower and head to bed.”
Your smile falters as he moves towards your bedroom, hurt flickering across your face. “But.. I made this for you. You’ve been out all day, I thought we could eat together.” 
He forces a smile, trying to appease you and end the conversation quickly. “I appreciate it amour, really. I’m just really tired.”
He can feel your eyes on him as he turns away, heavy with unspoken words. If he knew then what he knows now, he would've stood in that room and held you close. He would’ve tried harder to keep you by his side. He would’ve told you that he loved you. But he didn’t. 
She’ll come back, it’s okay, his thoughts echo while he stares at the door as you run into the night. You’re his rock, his anchor. His home. Weeks trickle by slowly and he can feel you slip away as more time goes by. He eventually stops thinking that he can hear your keys jingle in the lock at the front door. Your scent no longer clings to the bedsheets and the lush scented detergent you would buy gradually runs out. He slowly begins placing your things in boxes and taking them into storage where he hopes one day you’ll come to get them. Soon enough, he erases you from the apartment completely and it's as if you were never even there.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Charles shakes his head, his breath hitching. “I would do that often when I was home. I would lavish her with affection, trying to make sure she knew that I loved her with my whole being but…” he stops, pressing shaky fingers to his lips as if his breath is completely depleted. “I would find reasons to leave, seeking comfort in anything that wouldn’t make me think of what I was feeling inside.”
"Why?" Alexandra asks softly, her hand gently stroking his back. 
"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing her, of not being enough. I thought keeping my distance, both physically and emotionally, would protect the both of us, but it only drove her away."
Alexandra's heart aches for him as he confesses. She knows Charles loves her but as his emotions spill out before her, she can’t help but feel like the other woman. She feels guilty as this new feeling is born and grows quickly. He’s confiding in her and the only thing she can think of are the doubts beginning to spiral in her mind. Trying to mask her discomfort she wraps her arms around him, his body relaxing against her as his breath gets smoother. 
"You did what you thought was best, Charles. You made mistakes, yes, but now you’ve learned and can move to find a better way forward," she says as her hand rubs up and down his back. 
Charles shakes his head. "I was selfish, Alex. I was so focused on my fears that I ignored her needs. I wanted to build a life together, to have a family. I pushed her away, and now... now I have a daughter I've never met."
Alex swallows hard as tears begin to bead in her eyes. She tries not to think too much about what he’s saying. She tries not to think about how this could make or break them. Would he still want to build something with me? Have the family he’s always wanted with me? 
“But you're here now and that’s all that matters. It’s not going to be easy but you can still be part of Lucero’s life and maybe, in time find a way to make amends.” She meets his gaze once again. The whites of his eyes are now red, only making the green around his iris look more brilliant than it did before. “Thank you, mon amour. For being here, for listening. I don’t deserve you.” 
She gives him a small smile, pushing away the feelings of insecurity that are now growing in the back of her mind. “Nous allons nous en sortir. Juste… ne m'exclut pas, d'accord ? Je ne peux pas t'aider si tu ne me laisses pas entrer.” We’ll get through this. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.
“Je promets,” he nods, pulling her into his arms again. I promise. 
Charles is exhausted as he lays in her arms later that night, face pressed into her chest, snug against her heart. Alexandra lies awake in the darkness, the thought of you overtaking her mind. Her hands tenderly brush over Charles’s hair, his deep breaths tickling her skin slightly. There will always be a part of him that belonged to you. And it makes her wonder, with Lucero and you beginning to take your places in his heart, would there still be room for her? 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sun gently peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir from your sleep, eyes heavy as you turn to the sound of Lucero’s cries. You begin to pull yourself up, pushing the sheets off of you. You hear a string of tsks next to you, Carlos gently pulling you back to bed.
“Tu quedate aqui,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “Yo voy por ella.” You stay here, I’ll get her.
You mumble a slurred ok, nodding with eyes still very heavy as you settle back down. Eyes still puffy with sleep, you settle on now propped-up pillows. Pulling at the straps of your sleep shirt, you slip the top off. You watch hazily as Carlos moves to Lucero’s makeshift crib, his steps quiet and measured. He coos at her and you can see her little hands reach out for him, legs kicking in frustration. “Buenos días, mi patito,” he says, cradling her close. “Ya vamos con la mamí, no te preocupes.” Good morning, my duckling. We're going with mummy, don’t worry. It makes your heart flutter as he stares at her with his gentle eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand as it goes to poke at his chin. 
He makes his way back to the bed, watching as you adjust yourself in your spot. Lucero babbles, her initial upset fading into a groggy murmur as she nestles into the crook of Carlos’s neck. Her thumb catches on her lip as she tries to suck on it.
Carlos chuckles as he watches her latch onto it, gently pulling it from her mouth. “No, señora,” he says teasingly. No, ma'am. “No thumb-sucking, little miss.” His gaze is warm as he hands her to you. 
The room fills with a peaceful silence as Lucero latches on, her small body relaxing in her mother’s arms. She holds on tightly, almost insatiable as she feeds. Carlos climbs back into bed, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze is fixed on the two of you, eyes soft as he sees how devoted you’ve become to your little one, the love and connection strong between you. 
He can’t help but feel a sense of awe as he continues to watch you. He can’t help but admire how far you’ve come, the bond between you and Lucero beautiful and pure. The feeling of protectiveness and devotion to the two of you grows every day. He catches him thinking of the babe as his own, his daughter. She meant everything to him and he can’t bear to even imagine his life without her in it. Yet, he knew that Charles had a right to be a part of her life too, no matter how much it hurt to have to share that role. It's a thought that fills him with warmth but follows with a pang of bittersweet reality. 
With Lucero’s cries ceased, you gaze down at her. You're engrossed with how peaceful she looks, her little nose pressing into the flesh of your breast, little hands holding you as close as she can. Her eyes are beginning to droop again as her tummy fills up. She sighs in her stupor, pausing briefly before continuing.
You can feel Carlos’s gaze on you. He looks at you in adoration, fingers ghosting over Lucero’s chubby legs. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, sitting up as he does. Taking a deep breath, he breaks the silence. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” he asks gently. “And what comes next?” 
The question hangs in the air briefly, heavy with the weight of this new reality. You take a deep breath, mind coursing with different thoughts and emotions. “Not really, no.” You confess with a dry chuckle. If you could stay in this moment, just the three of you, you would without a second thought. “But we need to.”
He takes another deep breath, nodding. His expression is thoughtful as he threads his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I know,” he says quietly. “I was thinking… If we’re going to do this, maybe we should also think about involving Alexandra.”
You blink in surprise, your eyebrows furrowing. “Alexandra?” you repeat, voice uncertain. 
Carlos nods, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I know its complicated, but she’s a part of Charles’s life. If he’s going to be in Lucero’s life, she might be too.” 
Your expression is still a puzzled one as you respond. “I hadn’t thought about that,” You admit. “Do you think it's a good idea?”
Carlos sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I think we should at least be open to it. Lucero deserves to know everyone who loves her. And I’m here, i know it’s not the same but I feel that because of that, she should be there too. We can’t ignore that.”
Your heart aches slightly at the thought, fear and hope swirling in your chest. “I’m scared, Carlos,” you say, voice beginning to tremble. “I don’t want to make things harder for her.” 
Carlos leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know,” he whispers, eyes trained on her little figure, still sucking away. “But we need to think about what’s best for her in the long run. We’ll take it slow and be there for her every step of the way.”
Your eyes begin to fill with tears, your grip on Lucero tightening slightly. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if it hurts her?”
Carlos’s eyes soften, and he cups your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure she’s okay,” he says firmly. “We’ll protect her. But we can’t shield her from everything. She deserves the chance to know her family, even if it’s complicated.”
You nod slowly, heart heavy with the weight of the decision. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll try. But we have to be careful. We have to make sure it’s what’s best for her.”
Carlos smiles, his eyes filled with love and pride. “We will,” he promises. He presses his forehead to yours.“We’ll figure it out together.”
Lucero had finished feeding, her eyes now drifting closed as she snuggles against your chest.  You look down at her daughter, feeling a swell of emotion as you cradle her closer. Her jaw trembles slightly, a sign she was tired once again. “I just want her to be happy,” you whisper, voice breaking slightly.
Carlos wraps his arm around you, pulling the two of you close. “She will be,” he says gently. “She has you. And she has me. And now, she has a chance to know her father too.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
BRAZIL, NOVEMBER 2024
The sun is high over Sao Paolo when you arrive to the paddock. The air is electric with excitement, spectators slowly filling up the stands around the track. Their conversations create a gentle buzz that echoes above the garages. 
Carlos makes his way into the paddock, smiling at photographers and journalists as they wait for his entrance. They don’t miss the small body he holds in his arms and the woman that trails closely behind him, fingers intertwined with his. 
Your eyes scan meet the people waiting for you to enter, a delicate smile gracing your lips. Once in the Ferrari garage, you take release a breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding back. 
“Are you sure this was a good idea?” you ask Carlos as you’re settled in the back of the garage. A sudden wave of nerves washes over you as you can see a couple photographers clicking away around the garage. “Bringing her here?”
Carlos leans on one of the tables with you, nodding, fingers gently brushing over her wispy tufts of brown hair. “She seems to like it,” he points out as she squeals happily, pulling at the wire that connects to the big headphones Fred passed to her as you entered. “Besides, it’s good for her to see where Charles and I spend so much time.”
You smile, the concern still evident in your eyes. “I just don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Carlos says, fingers going to lovingly pinch at your arm. You know he’s referring to her but the look on his eyes makes you think he might mean you too. 
Lucero spots the red car being worked on and babbles excitedly as she sees the garage technicians checking around the car. 
“Cah-loh!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of wonder and determination. “Sí, Lu, un carro,” you correct gently. Yes, Lu, a car. Her attempt at say carro was endearing, the R sound still elusive for her baby tongue. Car. “Es rojo. Puedes decir, rojo?” she claps her hands, ignoring your request. Its red. can you say red? 
Carlos chuckles, leaning down to kiss her head. “Lolo’s going to drive el carro rojo, mi amor.” he says to her, pointing to himself and adding a soft vroom as he begins to imitate a car with his hand. He makes almost a flying motion with his hand in front of you before gently whooshing it towards the bubbly baby, tickling her tummy. She giggles, managing to grap his hands and pulls at his fingers. She holds them up to her face, a soft gargle of buh buh buh falling from her lips.
Lucero catches the eye of Charles as he makes his way into the garage, his eyes lighting up as he approaches you. He’s wearing those god-awful bleached jeans again, the odd stripes something you always teased him about. You just don’t see the art yet, he’d often say.
He gives Carlos a side hug before hesitantly leaning over you and wrapping his arms around you. It sends a wave of nerves through the both of you. He lets go quickly before he can think much of it and crouches slightly to meet Lucero’s eyes. 
“Bonjour, ma petite amour,” His voice is soft as he speaks to her. Hello, my little love. There’s an eager smile on his face, one that masks the nerves that were bubbling just beneath the surface. It’s one you recognize. 
Lucero looks at Charles, suddenly clampering into your arms, tucking her face into your neck. Charles’s heart clenches at the sight. “Muñeca, dile hola a Cha,” you say, his nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. Doll, say hi to Cha. 
You poke gently her little tummy, pulling her attention to her father. He smiles at her as she peeks out from behind your hair. You guide her hand gently towards Charles and she meets him in the halfway, her little fingers wrapping around his. “She’ll warm up,” you reassure. “It’s a lot for her, all these new faces and places.”
Charles nods, a slight flutter of uncertainty vibrating through his chest. “I understand,” he says. “I’m just happy to see her.”
Carlos observes the exchange, emotions swirling in his chest. He can’t help the protectiveness and understanding that bubble up as he sees this. He moves away from the table only to have Lucero reach her arms out for him. 
“Vienes conmigo, estrellita?” he asks as she pulls away from you and Charles, oblivious to the emotions of the adults around her. Are you coming with me, little star? She points excitedly at the car again, prompting Carlos to get near it. Buh buh buh she tries quietly.
“Bah bah,” she finally manages, voice loud as she proceeds to bury her face into Carlos’s shirt. He lets out a giggle as she does so. “Bah bah, vlum.” he looks at her with wide eyes, bouncing her in his arms. He glances over at you, jaw slack as he identifies what she’s trying to say. 
Charles’s smile falters momentarily. She means papa, he thinks. He masks his broken-heartedness quickly and turns to you. “She seems to really like the cars.” He comments, trying to keep his otne light.
“She does,” you say, glancing between the two men. “Maybe she’ll be a driver someday, like her father.”
“Maybe,” Charles says, his voice sounding like it’s far away. The word father hangs in the air, shrouded in a veil and he’s not sure if you mean Carlos or him. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Unraveling the Ferrari Enigma: Carlos Sainz Arrives with Mystery Woman and Baby, Spotted Again with Charles Leclerc at Brazilian GP
In an unexpected twist at the Mexican Grand Prix, Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz was seen arriving hand-in-hand with a mystery woman and a baby, sparking widespread speculation and intrigue within the F1 community. The woman, identified by sharp-eyed fans as Y/N L/N, the elusive former girlfriend of Sainz’s teammate, Charles Leclerc, has rarely been seen publicly, adding to the mystique surrounding this revelation.
Y/N L/N, who maintained a low profile throughout her relationship with Leclerc, has remained a figure of intrigue among fans and the media. Leclerc, known for his privacy regarding personal matters, never publicly acknowledged L/N, making this unexpected appearance alongside Sainz and the child even more startling.
Adding to the speculation, L/N and the baby—whose identiy remains undisclosed—made a second appearance at the Brazilian Grand Prix, further capturing the attention of the F1 world. Observers noted that not only were L/N and the child seen with Sainz, but they were also frequently spotted around Leclerc, intensifying curiosity about the current dynamics within the Ferrari team.
The repeated public appearances of L/N and the child have ignited a flurry of questions regarding their connection to Sainz and Leclerc, and what this means for the Ferrari drivers off the track. Could this development cause tension between Sainz and Leclerc? With the high stakes of the racing season and the close-knit nature of the F1 community, the unexpected appearance of L/N and the baby has undoubtedly raised eyebrows and sparked numerous questions.
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a/n: Hi friends! If you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! Any feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated, they seriously keep me so motivated <3
What do you guys think about this little news item? I enjoyed coming up with the one I made back in part 2, I thought why not make one for this part? Should I keep adding them in every now and then?
tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy @honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux @jeondeluxe111 @dessxoxsworld @xoscar03 @emryb @yl90 @poppyflower-22 @a-distantdreamer
strike through => tumblr won’t let me tag you!
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exhaslo · 2 days
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Miguel who meets Reader in Alchemax, and learns that she's in the tech department and become friends.
Miguel that with the help of Reader (and Lyla) build the Gizmo to travel across dimensions, after revealing his identity as Spiderman.
Miguel that invited Reader to work for the Spider-society as he didn't want her to work for Alchemax. (He can't loose her too.)
Reader who becomes a safe space for Miguel, someone who to trust when the burden of the multiverse becomes too heavy.
Miguel who starts to fall in love with Reader, and is scared to get too attached because he might loose her.
Miguel who often thinks about Gabriella, and how much she would've loved Reader.
Fluff and angst? Sign me in.
SIGN ME UP TOOOOOOOO!!! Also, just going to make a small change for plot hehehe
Warning: None, just fluff. Slow-burn, angst, please give Miguel some love, mentions of death
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I can't lose this again!
I can't lose another person I care about!
The day you entered Miguel's life was honestly a godsent. Miguel had felt like his life was crashing down. He had lost his motive to do much after losing his one shot at a happy life. After losing his daughter. After losing what he thought was everything.
Miguel had been sitting alone in his lab, contemplating everything he has done.
Why can't I be allowed to be happy?
Miguel was ready to call it quits, but that was before you showed up. Lost and confused on your first day. Honestly, this was probably for the best. A good distraction for Miguel.
By the end of the day, you had thanked Miguel and wondered if you could possibly get more of his help in the future. Unable to say no, Miguel agreed.
You had brought a little light to his day.
--------
Each day you appeared before Miguel was another 'joyful' day. You were so kind and caring that no matter how Miguel was feeling, you just managed to make him feel better.
It felt almost selfish, but Miguel had requested you to work under him. He needed someone who could distract him. He wanted you to need him so that he felt useful. So that Miguel felt like there was still a reason to go on.
You were quite helpful. Miguel was honestly surprised by how well you knew your way around a machine. In his eyes, you were the best hire since him.
Don't leave me too.
------
As the days turned into weeks, Miguel had started to grow attached to you. You were making his life better by just being around. You had gained his trust and he with yours. It was purely by accident, but Miguel had started to reveal secrets to you.
It was embarassing.
But you just smiled and shared yours. Miguel had to resist a groan as he craved your smile; your attention; your being. You had become part of Miguel's life and he didn't want to lose you either. So, Miguel gave you an offer...
"(Y/N), I want you to work for me...at my other job." Miguel whispered as the two of you walked around the city of Nueva York.
"Ohhhhh, I get to be Spider-Man's helper! Count me in~"
"Huh? What? Since when have you known?" Miguel asked, quite shocked by your reaction. You just giggled to yourself,
"I got quite the eye, Miguel. I noticed quite a bit ago, buuuut, I was waiting for you to tell me."
Miguel was at a loss for words. You were just staring at him with a big ol' smile on your face. Feeling as if a heavy weight lifted off his shoulder, Miguel thanked you. You were giddy with joy and jumped onto Miguel, giving him a big hug.
Don't let go.
Miguel forced a chuckle as he held you, almost afraid to hug you back.
---------
Having you at the Spider Society was a great addition. You were like an angel for Miguel. Always there when he needed you. Always there when Miguel NEEDED you.
It was hard for Miguel to admit anything, but he knew for a fact that he loved you. You were always there for him when he needed a shoulder to lean on. When Miguel needed to vent his stress, you always gave him your ear.
The way your hands stroked his face whenever you tried to calm him down...was intoxicating.
The way your eyes sparkled as you kept eye contact with him was ever melting.
The soothing sound of your voice just made Miguel want to close his eyes and fall asleep in your embrace.
But what if I'm the only one who feels like this?
Miguel felt like he was standing on a lone mountain, watching everyone from above. Making sure that nothing fell out of place. His reach for you, ever so far.
"Hehe, Miguel, get down here and try out my new gadget," You called out.
"Gizmo," Miguel corrected.
Not wanting to waste a second, Miguel jumped down towards you. As you ran to him in glee, an image of Gabi took your place. Miguel shuddered as the blood drained from his face.
"Miguel? Are you alright?" You asked, your hand resting against his cheek, "You've look like you seen a ghost."
"Aye...for a moment...I did,"
Miguel held your hand, enjoying the warmth you gave. All of this was to protect you. Miguel could not fathom the thought of losing someone else he loved. If anything were to ever happen to you, then Miguel might just-"
"Hey, it's okay," You whispered, pulling Miguel into a hug, "You're hurting, but you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you."
Don't let go, please.
Miguel inhaled sharply as he allowed himself to wrap his arms around your waist.
Don't leave me.
His head buried in your shoulder, inhaling your scent to calm him down.
Please, you're all I have.
Your soothing words calming him, bringing him back to his senses.
Miguel was going to make sure nothing ever happens to you. He was not going to have your blood on his hands. You had to stay alive for him. As much as Miguel wanted you, he knew that protecting you was more important than anything.
-------
You had gotten close to Miguel. Each day, Miguel craved more and more of your touch. You were perfect. If only Miguel had known better, than you would have been perfect for Gabi too. The two of you would have loved each other.
"You're overthinking again," You cooed as you planted yourself on Miguel's lap, "C'mon, help me fix this giiiiiizmo," You teased.
Miguel withheld a breathe as you placed yourself on top of him. His hands trembled slightly as he slowly placed them against your waist. He was hesitant, but Miguel rested his head against your shoulder, watching you tinker with the object.
"You seem to have it done," Miguel muttered. You turned your head to face his,
"I know, I just needed a comfy spot."
Miguel's eyes widen as you snickered towards his shocked expression. Almost at a lost for words, Miguel tried to think of something, but then you stopped his brain once more once you pecked his lips.
"Lyla, looks like I broke Miguel~" You chuckled.
I'll break for you. Anything for you.
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GIVE THIS MAN SOME LOVE PLEASE!!!!!!
Hope you enjoyed~
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ironunderstands · 17 hours
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Dr. Ratios predictions, theories and ideas I have for his lore BECAUSE SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED AND I AM INSANE ABOUT HIM AAAAAAA
‼️INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF LEAKS SO BE WARNED‼️
So, I’m sure if you like Dr. Ratio even a little bit or have kept up with what leakers are doing, you have heard of a little something.
That little something being our new planet in coming in 3.0 is Ancient Greece inspired 
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Oh boy.
And oh it gets better, thanks Sparkle for playing genderbend Ratio during Cosmoddesy because 
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Yup, this is his planet.
I’m well aware it will be like 7 months before we start getting proper leaks about this place, but for now, let’s do some speculation shall we, because if there’s anywhere we are gonna get his backstory/lore/a story centered around him, it will be here.
So let’s begin 
Whatever the hell I think is gonna happen during 3.0
A) He will serve as a guide for the Astral Express in navigating this planet 
I don’t think he will immediately go to them to help, or they will immediately seek out him, but rather coincidentally or through the connivence of circumstance he will end up helping lead us around, at least partially until we really get roped into a conflict.
Or, it’s the other way around, where we kinda are left to our own devices a bit and then something happens and either by his own decision or something that’s forced upon him, Dr. Ratio now has to supervise from now on.
Personally I find the second option way more interesting and I think it has way more potential for angst so I’m going with that one let Ratio be dragged around by a malicious entity or his own experiences I’m so here for it. 
B) Something happens.
Wow, descriptive. 
Ok, what I really mean is that something bad happens like a prophecy comes true or the express breaks something or a stellaron comes to eat people’s grandmas and Ratio is implicated in it. 
And this is where the fun begins, as the nature of what this something is can completely shift the story in very interesting ways.
Perhaps he was prophesied to doom Amphoreous’s civilization with his presence or something, and was abandoned by his parents on another planet?
Perhaps he has connections to the leaders there who desired for him to be their puppet/tool, so he left to find his own path and now they are trying to force him back.
Perhaps he failed at a test of theirs when he was younger, some universal trait on the planet that he couldn’t live up to and was exiled because of it. Now that he’s back, they blame whatever bad thing happens on Ratio. 
I actually really like these particular theories as Ratio has a lot of themes about creating your own destiny, so seeing him resist one forced upon him would be compelling. Moreover, I feel as though an arc demonstrating how exactly he wanted to become a Genius/where he got all his insecurities and motivations from is not only necessary for his character but would flesh out the way we see the path of Erudition in general, even if I already really like the way they have gone with it so far. 
C) Resolution/Self acceptance 
I doubt they will permanently kill him, it just doesn’t suit his character at all.
However, do I think is he gonna get messed up by whatever that “something” is? Yes. 
If the story centers on this remains to be seen, honestly, I doubt it will considering we have the entire cast of the planet and its own lore to meet and learn about, but I do think Ratio will be a major player and I hope how he feels gets some of the plot’s focus as we have quite literally only have 1 full scene of him where we see who he truly is, and it’s all the way back in 1.6 (Ratio-Screwllum conversation my Roman Empire). 
Like guys I needed this man bleeding out screaming dying crying throwing up clutching his wounds looking up at the screen like a kicked puppy losing all hope in himself and others YESTERDAY 
I NEED SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO HIM FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BECAUSE RATIO IS SO HIGH STRUNG THAT ANY AMOUNT OF PRESSURE WILL CAUSE HIM TO SNAP SO PLEASE HOYO LET HIM BREAK!!!
He needs another scene where he’s being sincere, he needs a scene where he’s being vulnerable, Ratio’s marble facade needs to crumble to reveal the man underneath and I need that man to pick himself back up again knowing he can allow himself to be human as well AAAAAAAAAA
His connections to Acheron 
If you have seen my other posts I have already talked about this at length, however the brainrot for this particular detail is all consuming so let me just demonstrate:
Dr. Ratio has the same philosophy as Acheron, an emanator of Nihility.
Look.
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Essentially, they both believe that only in desperate situations will humans reach their full potential and begin to truly live for themselves. Moreover, they also both try and offer the tools to help people save themselves, Ratio with knowledge and Acheron with destroying the dreamscape, and that even if people can only become their true selves through struggle, it is the guidance and love of other people that will allow them to pick themselves up. 
Interestingly, pre-2.2 I also believed Ratio was walking the path of Nihility, due to how he engages with knowledge. That very viewpoint spawned from the 1.6 conversation I just showed you, as Ratio demonstrates to the audience that he does not care about knowledge in of itself, but rather the value it can bring to people.
Now, this sets him apart from the Genius Society members, who believe knowledge is inherently valuable and that it is what brings the universe meaning to them. Every person Nous has acknowledged has expressed this belief, which is why they were acknowledged and Ratio isn’t.
Before you say it, no, it’s not that he isn’t smart enough, quite the opposite actually.
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Screwllum himself acknowledges his genius and time and time again are Ratios myriad of accomplishments brought up. In universe plenty of people believe he should have been instated into the society by now as well:
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These are just the ones that implicate the society directly, as so many of Ratio’s character stories also mention just how accomplished he is.
Moreover, in 2.3 we are getting a new Sim Uni update made by Ratio himself, centered on humanity because of course it is, therefore he’s even smart enough to do the same things the GS members do, even collaborating with Screwllum to work on their favorite pet project.
So, what does this have to do with his lack of acknowledgment, and the path of Nihility?
I have established Ratio is smart enough and that he doesn’t view knowledge in the same way the other member’s do. Therefore, this difference in mindset is why Nous has never acknowledged him, because as much as Ratio thinks he is walking the path of Erudition, his personal philosophy and behaviors have never aligned with that, even if he thinks they do.
I mean, the man says it himself, even if he doesn’t realize the implications of it:
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“The Path of Erudition has neither reason nor logic. While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary can’t even trace their footsteps.”
That is the path the Genius Society members walk, the path Ratio is criticizing in this sentence, the path he refuses to travel along himself, because what defines Ratio is that he will never leave the ordinary behind to stumble alone.
That is the path of Erudition.
And Veritas Ratio does not follow it. 
So what does he believe in?
Finding your own path. Forging your own future, in the face of a meaningless universe, that is the only thing we should do, the only thing we CAN do. 
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“even a life marked by failure is a life worth living”
That’s what Ratio believes.
It doesn’t matter if the masses cannot escape their mediocrity, if they will never be geniuses, if their efforts will go unacknowledged, because the universe doesn’t care, therefore they shouldn’t either. There is no grand test, no final destination, no perfect goal people must attain.
Destiny is uncertain, and people’s fates are theirs to choose. 
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Dr. Ratio believes people can still improve themselves, and that it doesn’t matter if people cannot reach the ceiling of knowledge, as they should still push themselves off the floor and stand up. 
He doesn’t think anything confines people from bettering themselves, and that it’s pointless to deliberate over whether one can achieve perfection or not, they should strive to improve themselves regardless and live their best lives because why not? Sure there’s nothing saying they can, but there’s also nothing saying they can’t, and in the face of a meaningless universe, devoid of purpose, one must create their own, and he dedicates his life to aiding others in realizing this.
Ironically, Ratio does not take his own advice. He can recognize the merits of the masses, but he cannot appreciate his own. Ratio is forever walking forward, but he cannot see the path ahead of him, or appreciate the lengths he has gone, the distance he has traveled, and the lives he has improved. 
Ratio spreads knowledge across the universe, believing that is what Nous desires, what the Erudition means, or rather should be, which is partly why he views himself as mundane, as a failure. 
Not just because he is as ordinary as any other person, but because Ratio thinks he hasn’t succeeded in his goal without Nous’s acknowledgement. I think he believes that he hasn’t done enough, that he isn’t smart enough, that he will never be good enough, therefore no matter what has happened, Ratio is doomed do be as mundane as everyone else, and his accomplishments will never be worth the gaze of the entity who inspired him to help others in the first place, as that’s what Ratio believes they would want.
However, helping others is not something Nous cares about, it’s something Dr. Ratio cares about. Even if he doesn’t understand or acknowledge it, Ratio’s accomplishments are meaningful, and he has walked his path further than most ever have. 
However, that path just isn’t the path of Erudition, it’s the path of Existence. 
Initially I believed it to be the Nihility, and in a way I’m not wrong, considering one must cross underneath the shadow of the Nihility to find the Existence, so in a way he is still approaching them.
However, as always, Acheron clarifies everything.
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The Nihility envelops all, therefore it is meaningless. And before our final ending, our predetermined destiny (death), we have so many choices to make, therefore we should make them, as it makes both our life and death develop a completely different meaning.
As I have stated, this is what Ratio believes in, even if he attributes it to the Erudition, rather than the Nihility.
Ratio’s entire goal in life is to help others bring meaning to their lives and guide them in the right direction so they can begin to choose for themselves, using knowledge as his means to do so.
Which is exactly what Acheron does, “on the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls,” isn’t just a line she says because it sounds cool, rather, that is her goal as well. An emanator of Nihility, whose goal is to help others find their meaning in the universe. 
But Acheron doesn’t just want that. She is looking for the Existence, and to kill the Nihility (meaningless) forever.
Which is significant, because if Ratio believes the same exact thing she does, and is walking the same path as she is, then like Acheron, he is heading towards the Existence, not the Erudition.
And Nous will never acknowledge him, not because he isn’t smart enough, but because he never followed them to begin with.
In fact, we know what Ratio is, or rather, what he might end up becoming.
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So far no Doctors of Chaos have succeeded in their goals, but perhaps Dr. Ratio, Dr VERITAS Ratio, will be the one to do so. After all, who else could it be but him?
How fitting that the man named after truth would be the one to find it.
That fuckass owl 
Glaux I want to throw you into a blender 
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This is Professor Glaux, one of the figures from the Hanunue-Clockie Era of Penacony who did some things like bring the stellaron there, was a scholar of the Intellgenica Guild, became the first dreamweaver, inspired the paper birds, did some shit with the Nightingale Family and presumably died.
I know, horrible explanation, especially considering I haven’t even done the quest this guy is from, but hopefully that’s all the information you need for now so I can introduce you to this theory (which I did not create, sadly I don’t remember who did but it was someone on twitter somewhere so shoutout to them)
That being… Dr. Ratio is Glaux
I hate it I’m sorry. But I will attempt to explain where it’s coming from.
A) Glaux has very similar references to Ratio, aka they are both associated with Greek culture, wisdom and owls 
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Glaux is the Greek word for owl and they are heavily associated with Athena, the god of wisdom.
Now Ratio has extremely obvious owl, Greek and wisdom association if you have looked at him for any longer than 2 seconds so I’m not gonna bother to demonstrate it, they have similar references, moving on.
B) The Intelligencia Guild + their titles 
They are from the same faction, and both are referred to as Professors (ratio gets called that more in the CN version I think), and at least Ratio dedicates his time to spreading knowledge, which I think is something Glaux shared.  
C) This occurrence in Gold and Gears
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You know, the one where a student kills themself because Ratio thinks they are an idiot.
Well, it’s complicated because apparently the story told in Gold in Gears takes place a long time ago?? 
How long I don’t know as my brain melted in my skull when trying to piece it together, so please do correct me if I’m wrong, I’ll try to make sense of it later.
Moreover, this is also complicated by the fact that this particular occurrence was used by Herta to teach the trailblazer some mechanics of the sim uni, which makes me thing it’s not a part of the lore/timeline in it in general, and just something funny she added in anyways. Continually, there are also occurrences from characters like Argenti and of the Genius Society members themselves, so I don’t think every event is set in the distant past.
However, I think this idea comes from the other person in that occurrence, Dr. No5, but he also kills himself in it, and I can’t find anymore information on it, so I doubt it. (also apparently in the Chinese version the Ratio they refer to isn’t in the way they refer to Dr. Ratio/the one we know so idk)
Either way, what this means is that if this occurrence did take place a while ago, then Ratio must be super fucking old and he must have been part of the Intellegencia Guild during that time, like a certain owl aka Glaux, who was part of it.
D) Ratio’s weird origins
By weird origins I mean we know jack shit about his past (although we finally know the planet he’s from!) and for all we know the man could have spawned in one day, with some other theories even coming to that conclusion, like the infamous worm theory.
Essentially, if you put this all together, Ratio was once an owl-humanoid named Glaux who was from the Amphoreous, and then became part of the Intelligencia Guild a while back, which is when that occurrence happened. He then went to Penacony, did some stuff, faked his death and like came back as Dr. Ratio on that planet again, which is why we don’t know anything about his origins.
Can you tell why I hate this theory as a concept.
I find it to be dumb, nonsensical, a waste of potential and just straight up random as hell. However it is also objectively valid and could have happened within the plot of the game which is why I hate it so much because please hoyoverse do not go in this direction I will skin you.
However, I do not think Ratio has nothing to do with Glaux.
Rather,
A) The stuff Glaux did on Penacony is meant to parallel how Ratio acted there, as both served as a guiding figure for people on their respective timelines 
B) Ratio is the same species as Glaux/ they are from the same planet (Amphoreous).
Now this I fuck with heavily. Yes, Glaux is way more owl looking than Ratio is, however more human versions of his species could exist, and Ratio could just have the ability to like shift forms or something.
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He also looks extremely similar to the owls on Ratios design, which I now deem it appropriate to show to you the metric fuck ton of owls in Ratios design.
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(there’s a few more btw I just couldn’t fit them due to the image limit LMAOO)
Why do you have so many, and why is it the same fucking owl, same culture, same goddess referenced, same symbolism???? 
Like even if I hate the 1 : 1 Glaux-Ratio theory, they are clearly connected, and this is no accident on behalf of the developers. 
Therefore, I would keep an eye out for Glaux mentions in the future, especially on the planet coming in 3.0, as I 100% believe that they are from the same planet. There’s no way they can’t be connected in some manner, and if I am right about this I will be annoying about it for the rest of time. 
I can’t believe owl Ratio might actually be a reality. 
So uh, let’s put this all together.
We go to Ratio’s planet in 3.0, problems happen and we learn both his past and his connections to that owl species Glaux is from which likely causes even more problems. Bbg probably gets his ass handed to him in 3.0 and 3.1 and gets to make up for it in 3.2, ending the arc off more fulfilled as a person, and perhaps making some realizations about himself including that he isn’t actually following the path of Erudition. Then we skip all the way to endgame when the trailblazers are fighting Nanook and him and Acheron come in with the steel chair hopped up on Existence juice to give the trailblazer enough of a will to live as to not succumb to the Nihility because oh my god how can you defeat the embodiment of Destruction. We somehow win and Dr. Ratio gets married to Aventurine and they ride off into the sunset roll credits we all cheered. 
So, yeah.
If I’m even a little bit right about this I will be the most insufferable person on this planet. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this, and even if these theories don’t end up being true I do still think the speculation gives a lot of insight into his character.
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atinyslittleworld · 2 days
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Beneath the Western Sky
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cowboy!san x f!reader
Summary: Choi San, a charming cowboy, frequents a saloon in the small town of Red River, where he falls for Y/N, the younger daughter of the stern saloon owner. Despite San's persistent efforts to win Y/N's heart, her father disapproves and warns him to stay away.
Genre: a little angst, mainly fluff
Warnings: mention of guns
The sun was beginning to set over the dusty plains, casting a warm, golden hue over the small frontier town of Red River. Choi San, a rugged cowboy with a reputation for being both charming and reckless, sauntered down the main street, spurs jingling with every step. He adjusted his hat and glanced around, his eyes inevitably drawn to the bustling saloon at the end of the street – the place where he spent many nights with his mates, and more importantly, where the object of his affections worked.
The younger daughter of the saloon owner, Y/N, was a vision of beauty and grace. She had a laugh that could light up the darkest of rooms and a smile that made San's heart race every time he saw her. Despite his best efforts to woo her, Y/N remained elusive, always managing to slip away just when he thought he was getting close.
San pushed open the swinging doors of the saloon and made his way to the bar, where Y/N was busy serving drinks to the rowdy patrons. She glanced up and caught his eye, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Evening, San," she said, her voice like a melody to his ears.
"Evening, Y/N," he replied, leaning against the bar. "How's the night treating you?"
"Busy as always," she said, pouring a drink for a nearby customer. "What brings you here tonight?"
"Same as always," San said, his tone teasing. "A drink and some good company."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Is that so? Well, you'll have to work for it."
Before San could respond, the saloon doors swung open again, and the burly figure of Y/N's father, Mr. Cruz, strode in. His stern expression and imposing presence were enough to make even the toughest of cowboys think twice about crossing him. He caught sight of San at the bar and his eyes narrowed.
"San," Mr. Cruz said, his voice gruff. "What are you doing here?"
San straightened up, trying to appear casual. "Just enjoying a drink, Mr. Cruz. No harm in that, is there?"
Mr. Cruz’s gaze shifted to Y/N, who was watching the exchange with a hint of amusement. "As long as you're not bothering my daughter, I suppose it's fine."
San held up his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir."
With a final, suspicious glance, Mr. Cruz turned and headed to the back of the saloon. San let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and looked back at Y/N, who was stifling a laugh.
"Your father's a hard man to impress," San said, shaking his head.
Y/N shrugged, still smiling. "He means well. Just looking out for me, I suppose."
"Can't blame him for that," San admitted. "But it does make things a bit difficult."
"Maybe that's the point," Y/N said, leaning a little closer. "Keeps the wrong kind of men away."
San's eyes sparkled with determination. "And what about the right kind of men?"
Y/N's smile widened, but she said nothing, turning back to her work. San watched her for a moment before deciding it was time to up his game. He couldn't let her slip through his fingers again.
Over the next few weeks, San made a point to visit the saloon more often, always finding an excuse to talk to Y/N. He helped around the place, offered to fix things that were broken, and even took on some of the rowdier patrons to keep the peace. His efforts did not go unnoticed, least of all by Y/N.
One evening, as the saloon was closing up, San found Y/N sweeping the floor. He approached her, tipping his hat with a grin.
"Need any help?" he asked.
Y/N looked up, surprised but not displeased. "Sure, if you don't mind."
San grabbed a broom and started sweeping, working alongside her in companionable silence. After a while, he cleared his throat, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"You know, Y/N, I've been thinking..."
"About what?" she asked, not looking up from her task.
"About you," he said simply. "And how much I'd like to get to know you better."
Y/N paused, leaning on her broom as she studied him. "And what makes you think I want to get to know you better, San?"
San shrugged, his smile never wavering. "A man can hope, can't he?"
Y/N shook her head, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."
"I'll take that as a compliment," San said, stepping closer. "So, what do you say? Give me a chance?"
Before Y/N could respond, the door to the back room opened, and Mr. Cruz stepped out. He took one look at San standing so close to his daughter and his expression darkened.
"San, I thought I told you to stay away from my daughter," Mr. Cruz said, his voice low and dangerous.
San straightened, meeting Mr. Cruz’s gaze without flinching. "I mean no disrespect, sir. I just want a chance to prove myself."
Mr. Cruz crossed his arms, his eyes cold. "And why should I give you that chance?"
"Because I care about her," San said earnestly. "And I think she cares about me too."
Mr. Cruz looked at Y/N, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of surprise and hope. Before she could say anything, a loud crash came from outside the saloon, followed by shouting and the sound of galloping hooves. All three of them turned toward the noise.
"What's going on out there?" Y/N asked, worry etched on her face.
San quickly moved toward the door, peeking outside. "Looks like a gang of outlaws," he said grimly. "Causing trouble again."
Mr. Cruz's face hardened. "We need to keep everyone inside safe."
San nodded, his mind racing. "Y/N, get the women and children to the back. Mr. Cruz, you and I will hold the front."
Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She quickly ushered the few remaining patrons to the back rooms while San and Mr. Cruz readied themselves. The outlaws were getting closer, their shouts growing louder.
The door burst open, and a group of rough-looking men stormed in, guns drawn. San and Mr. Cruz sprang into action, their own weapons at the ready. A tense standoff ensued, the saloon filled with the sounds of shouting and gunfire.
San moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned cowboy, taking down several outlaws while protecting the saloon and its occupants. Mr. Cruz fought alongside him, his fierce determination matching San's. The two men, despite their differences, worked together seamlessly.
In the midst of the chaos, San caught sight of Y/N peeking out from the back room. Her eyes widened with fear and concern as she watched him. He knew he had to end this quickly to keep her safe.
With a final burst of energy, San disarmed the remaining outlaws, sending them fleeing from the saloon. The noise died down, and the dust settled. San and Mr. Cruz stood in the now-quiet saloon, breathing heavily but victorious.
Y/N rushed out from the back room, her eyes searching for San. When she saw him standing there, unharmed, she ran to him, throwing her arms around him.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Thank you for keeping us safe."
San held her close, his heart pounding. "I'd do anything for you, Y/N."
Mr. Cruz approached them, his stern expression softening as he looked at San. "You proved yourself tonight, San. Maybe I was wrong about you."
San nodded, grateful for the older man's words. "Thank you, sir."
Mr. Cruz glanced at Y/N, then back at San. "You take care of her, you hear me?"
San tightened his hold on Y/N. "I will. I promise."
With the danger passed and the saloon slowly returning to normal, Y/N looked up at San, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and admiration.
"You really are something, San," she said softly.
San smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Does that mean you'll give me a chance?"
Y/N pretended to consider it for a moment before nodding. "Alright, cowboy. You've got yourself a chance."
San's grin widened, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. As they stood there, surrounded by the remnants of the night's chaos, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.
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newwritergirl · 2 days
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Starting over | Part 17
Masterlist
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Summary: The evening with Bob und Javy at the Hard Deck is destroyed by a Welsh. But unfortunately it's just the beginning of the cruel man's plan.
Trigger Warnings: 18+!, Minors DNI!, past abusive relationhip, throwing up, previous assault, language, angst
Word Count: 2k +
A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter, but I wanted to post it before going deeper into the angst and drama.
With a worried look Pete turns around and makes his way over to Bob and Coyote. He doesn't let some prick destroy the whole progress the young woman made since she lives in Miramar, only because of the loose tongue of that Welsh guy.
"Bob, Coyote. A word." Maverick interrupts the men's conversation rather impolite but he needs to get this off his chest before y/n comes back to their table.
"Captain? Take a seat. What's wrong?" Javy was the first one to speak after the surprising arrival of their Captain.
"I just interrupted Welsh while he had a - conversation with y/n. She looked very uncomfortable. Just, please have an eye on her, I'm not trusting this guy, as you know." Welsh's reason for his assignment on their base is classified but everyone knows by now that something must've happened at his old base. Even with the details unknown for all of them except for Bradshaw and in parts for Seresin, they all assume that Welsh's transfer has to do something with his behavior towards women. With Nat he already bit on granite, with her strong and confident attitude he soon learned that he should shut up in front of the female fighter pilot. But with the shy It-specialist it's a completely different story.
Both pilots share a look before giving their Captain the affirmative to look out for their female friend and to put Welsh under their observation as well.
---
The cold water making contact with her hands helps a bit to stop the tremble she still has in her hands. In no case she is able to continue the evening at the Hard Deck with Bob and Javy. The nausea is still lingering in the back of her throat. The cruel nightmare, the daunting messages from that unknown number and now the repeated encounter with Welsh left her feeling worse every minute she stays longer in the packed bar. She just hopes that her two friends wouldn't be mad or disappointed when she is going to announce that she wants to go home.
With a ghostly pale face and cautious steps, always looking out afraid to once again stumble into Welsh, she makes her way over to the table where Bob and Javy still sitting and waiting patiently for their drinks.
"Hey, there she is." Bob immediately sees that something is wrong with the young woman. Her nearly ashen face gives him a reason to worry even more. He immediately stands up to offer y/n his chair so that she doesn't have to round the table to take a seat. But she touches his arm in a soft grasp as to steady herself.
"Hey, I'm sorry guys, but I call it a night. I'm really tired. Gonna call an Uber and…" She doesn't get to finish her sentence before Javy also stands up grabbing his jacket and looking at her.
"Bob and I just thought the same. Let's go home, sunshine." He wraps his arm around her shoulder in a protective manner, he already noticed her being a bit unsteady.
---
Y/n knows that some wounds never truly heal, especially the deep ones her ex inflicted on her soul. When Welsh grabbed her at the Hard Deck she felt herself catapulted into the life she once lived and she asks herself why she seems to be a magnet for men like that. Under normal circumstances she would seek comfort in her two boyfriends. They're the exact opposite of Welsh and her ex. They're protective, lovely and never had the intention to make her feel small or less worthy. How she misses them, especially now. A sob is bubbling out of her mouth and echoing in the master bathroom where she's currently kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up everything which is left in her system. She still feels the piercing gaze of Welsh looking dangerously deep into her eyes, his strong and rough grip on her arms, she still hears his words. 'I knew you have a thing for pilots' is playing in her head in that scary tone he said those words. Does he know about their relationship? She knows that their secret relationship would probably not be a secret forever, but she doesn't want that disgusting man to spread rumors at base. She doesn't want Jake and Bradley's careers to be in jeopardy. Another painful gag bubbles out of her throat, tears of pain streaming down her cheeks when she hears her phone chirping in the otherwise silent house.
---
Utterly exhausted she stands up from her position on the bathroom floor she is certain that there's nothing left to bring up. On shaky legs she makes her way over to the sink, her pale face is reflected in the mirror when she sees another sticky note from her boyfriends.
You're the most beautiful woman that we've ever seen.
We love you. JB
Y/n doesn't know how long she looked at the Bradley and Jake's message but another trill of her mobile brings her out of her thoughts. Her heart is beating painfully in her chest afraid of another scary message of an unknown number. When she finally finds her mobile in the living room area where she abandoned it after coming home she's not sure if she is brave enough to open the two unread messages.
A sigh of relief escapes the young woman's mouth.
Bobby: Hey y/n, just wanted to ask if you're doing okay. You didn't look too good when we left the Hard Deck.
Bobby: Y/n, I'm worried. Please text me when you're awake.
Y/n: Hey Bobby. Sorry I was already asleep. I'm good, just tired. Thanks for checking in. I hope you and Javy are not mad for calling it a night so early.
Bobby: No way! We're not mad :-) Please call me, if you need something. Gonna check in with you over the weekend. Sleep well, sunshine.
Y/n: Thanks Bobby! Have a good night!
---
The bar is finally emptying, the last few patrons are finishing their drinks and the buzzing chatter is slowly quieting down. Pete Mitchell sits at his usual spot at the bar where he usually watches his girlfriend Penny preparing to close the Hard Deck. But today he is deep in thought frowning and playing with the label of his beer bottle.
A warm hand stops him from shredding the paper label further.
"Hey, stop making a mess on my bar, I already cleaned it an hour ago." Penny smiled at the pilot in front of her. "What's wrong with you, the last time I saw you frowning like that you thought about how to scare Amelia's boyfriend away."
Pete looks up from the mess he made unconsciously. "Something like that… I'm worried about y/n."
Penny looks at her boyfriend puzzled. "Y/n? What's wrong with the poor girl?"
"You know my dear, some things are classified, but for you I will make an exception." Pete says while grabbing the smaller hand of his girlfriend planting a kiss on the back of her hand.
"With Rooster and Hangman gone… I think she has a hard time. I mean, not because she's alone, but… I caught some sleazy guy harassing her earlier -"
"HARASSING? HER? In my bar? Pete Mitchell, where's this scumbag? You should've told me, I would've kicked his ass out of MY BAR." Penny nearly shouts. Her bar is a safe haven for the Navy and for other people who earn and give respect to other human beings. There's absolutely no room for scum, especially not for men harassing women.
"Slow down tiger. It's not that easy. I will kick him out…out of base and out of town. But I need to form a plan, I need the Admiral in my corner. Well, he also hates this guy, but we need to play it by the books." Welsh is a red flag, that fact is clear since he and the Admiral read his file. But until now they don't have enough in their hands to kick him out of base and out of the Navy for good. But Pete is sure that it will happen in the near future and until then they need to have a close eye on this guy.
"It's someone from the base? Don't tell me it's this new guy… I'm going to kill him." The younger woman wrings the rag in her hand as if she's imagining Welsh's neck.
"Penny, my love. This is absolutely confidential."
---
The rest of the weekend was a blur for y/n. To get through it she found herself in some kind of cleaning madness, not that the house was dirty beforehand, but until Sunday evening she has cleaned some places of their cozy home more than three times just to exhaust herself out enough to sleep for some hours.
Now, fortunately in the middle of the week she sits outside on the base sipping the hot beverage Bob brought her minutes ago and enjoying the crisp air and the morning rays of sun on her face she's miles away with her thoughts. She's relieved that she hasn't seen Welsh the whole week and that she could distract herself with a huge load of work. She helped the Admiral with another computer problem and started on programming new software for the Daggers which should help them with teaching and training the recruits.
"Hello y/n…"
The young woman flinches as she hears the familiar voice. She was lucky enough to not cross path with the nasty aviator the last three days. But today, she's not that lucky. He sits down beside her, too close for her own liking which makes her shrinking into herself even more.
"No greeting, today? I thought you were well-bred. Seems like Michael was still too soft with you." He chuckles.
The moment y/n hears the name of her ex, that man that inflicted so much pain on her, that man who nearly killed her and scarred her soul in so many ways, she feels panic bubbling in her chest. How does Welsh know her ex' name? How does he even have the balls to confront her with her past? With a loud thud her coffee cup falls to the floor, splintering in thousand pieces swimming in the still hot brown liquid. She feels her chest tightening and breathing gets more difficult every second. She jumps up from her seat beside the cruel aviator, feeling his bigger hand squeezing her forearm to prevent her from fleeing. But y/n is able to wiggle herself free and starts to sprint toward the office building. She doesn't notice where she is running, completely trapped in the panic and shock which is swirling in her brain.
---
Some hours before:
Daniel can't believe his luck when the lock finally opens with a click. It's dark outside when he arrived at the base this morning. He didn't want to risk to be seen when he breaks into the Admiral's office. Is it a bit too much to break into the Admiral's office? Probably. Is it too damn risky to steal some information? Hell, yeah. But he needs some more information about this young and sexy IT-specialist and with her two guard dogs gone it's the best time to start his little blackmail show. With the right information about her it will be easier to intimidate this slut further.
"No way…" He talks to himself in a hushed voice when he starts to read y/n's file which is securely stored in the Admiral's office. She had a bad ex-boyfriend who assaulted her? Perfect, this is just perfect. She was a little bruised obedient girl and he will get her there once again. She is just the perfect woman for him. Hopefully his plan is going to bloom before these morons are back from their deployment. But he's in cheerful spirits now that he knows all the little sad details of y/n's past. And he will launch his offensive today. The stupid girl is already afraid and nervous in his presence and this is the best point of departure to go from there. Soon she will be his little toy and her aviator boyfriends are forgotten. She needs a man with a strong hand and not these two sissies. This slut needs him and he knew the first time he laid his eyes on her that she will be his.
@djs8891
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@abaker74
@crazyunsexycool
@itsarabellebabes
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Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 8
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Masterlist
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstances keep them apart? A/N: I'm going to be real with you guys--this chapter was just for me. It's disgusting, cheesy, romantic nonsense and I absolutely love it. I hope you do too. :)
Writing an amateur poet's love letter was so ridiculous and fun, but I also may have f'ed myself up a little bit. Save me pathetic, handsome, unabashedly romantic gentleman who respects me as a human being with deep thoughts and valued feelings but also compares my eyes to flaked amber in the sunlight and treats me gently like a beautiful flower laid softly on the shrine of a solitary goddess...you're my only hope.
My dearest Beatrice,
These nights we have spent apart have been perhaps the longest of my life.
I had not realized just how completely you had made yourself at home in my heart until you were no longer here with me. I look to the space you have carved in my soul, and I find it empty. You have gone, and taken a piece of me with you.
At night I sit in the windowsill searching the streets below, desperate to see any sign of you waiting there for me. I pray for just a glimpse of your shrouded form, bathed in the silver light of the moon. As I wait, I know I would have forever been happy to be your Leander, swimming across the sea each night, guided by your light.
I have found my days as listless as my nights, waiting to hear any mention of your name. I dread what news time may bring, yet cannot stop myself from wishing the hours to pass as minutes. Time may yet be my enemy, but it still remains the one bridge that leads me to you.
I hope you are well my darling. I see an image of you sat alone with your worries, and it haunts my every thought. I hope to find some relief in the knowledge that my family will be with you soon, even if I cannot be. I hope your brief time with them will bring some measure of comfort to you, as they have comforted me.
When my mother and sisters return, I pray they bring good news. But know that no matter what, my feelings will not waiver. I am willing to stand steadfast against any tide we may yet face, so long as it is your wish to stand alongside me.
I worry now that perhaps my lack of interest in the movements of the aristocracy may have translated poorly. You must know that my distaste for their grandstanding, their rigid adherence to proprietary, and their many pointless rules means nothing in the face of my feelings for you. So now I shall be clear, so that there can be no misunderstandings between us.
I love you Beatrice. I will love you for as long as you will have me, and then one hundred lifetimes more.
Yours eternally,
Benedict
---
Beatrice sat in her nightdress, curled up in the armchair nearest the windows of her room. She clutched Benedict's letter close to her chest as she gazed out across the moonlit garden. It looked so similar to the place where she and Benedict had first met. It was not so long ago, yet it felt like a lifetime had past since then.
She turned her attention back to the letter. In the dim candlelight it was difficult to make out his flourished words, but that hardly mattered. Beatrice had read it so many times already that she could all but recite it word for word. She ran her fingers over the last line, smiling as she thought of the man that had written it.
I love you.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her forehead io her knees as she blushed. She could hardly contain the emotions that threatened to burst forth from her chest. Even having read it dozens of times, she could hardly believe it was real. And so she read it once more, then again, only to make sure she was not dreaming.
The feelings between them had always been clear. She did not need words to know Benedict cared for her. But to have it articulated so beautifully? To have him decalre it so boldly? That was a different thing entirely. Perhaps it was best then that it was written and not spoken. If she had heard it first from his lips, she surely would have perished in an instant--her heart too overcome with feeling to possibly be contained.
Her letter expressed her worries and her desires. Now she almost felt foolish thinking of the words she had written, having believed his choice rushed. And perhaps, regretted. Still, they needed to be said all the same, and now she could rest soundly knowing she had not in some way entrapped him in a life he did not want.
She prayed they would be allowed to see each other soon, but resolved herself to do whatever she must if she was not. She would see him again, no matter what.
She sighed, taking one last look out into the night before readying herself for bed.
As she laid in the dark, Benedict's letter tucked safely under her pilllow, she smiled to herself. She drifted off to sleep, knowing she would have sweet dreams.
---
My Dearest Benedict,
I hope this letter finds you in comfort and good health.
I have wished desperately to visit you these past nights. I have longed to be near you, to see your face and to hear your voice. The thought of never seeing you again forever stalks my every days and nights.
We spoke so little about my deception before we were forced to part. I know you have assured me all is well, but even so I must beg your forgiveness just once more. It was a crime committed completely for my own selfish desires, and I made you my unwitting accomplice.
And while I cannot in good conscious condone my actions, nor can I condemn them. For if I had been honest from the start, I believe we would never have been able to grow to know each other so well. For that time we spent free of society's eyes and expectations, I will apologize, I will accept the consequences, but I will never regret.
I know you must be worried for what is to come. The truth of it is I do not know myself. There are many possibilities, all reliant on many choices made by many people who care very little for the hearts involved. Ultimately, it comes down to this: Will I be permitted to see you again and if so, will you wish to see me?
I have not forgotten what you said as we danced. That you were willing to openly pursue me in spite of my title and any trouble that may follow. I was glad to hear you say so, gladder still for you to show your resolve and declare your intentions to all with every dance we shared. But I ever worry I have put you in a difficult situation, where you made a choice in the heat and haste of a moment, and now feel you must continue to honor your word and protect my feelings.
It is the knowing you care for me, but yet surely not wanting the burdens that I will place upon you, that haunts me so. That you may one day wake to a feeling of resentment towards me for your confinement, and wish in vain for release. I know you to be a free soul my dearest, and you do not belong shakled to a crown. And so I wish to be clear that I would never disparage you, even if it should be that you choose to place your freedom first.
But if this is to be the time I lay bare all my truths, I shall do so in full and know for certain I have said all I wished to. Then, regardless of what outcome the future holds, I can live contented by the knowledge that I have spoken every wish that lives in my heart.
I love you, Benedict. I have loved you since the night we met, and I will continue loving you every night and every day that follows for the rest of our lives and beyond. Whatever choice is made, regardless of who makes it, know that my feelings for you will never change.
And while it is so that I would never blame you for chosing to live your life a free man, the truth is I desperately ache for you to instead choose to spend it locked away with me. Together in a prison made for two, with no direction or purpose other than to be forever by each other's side.
I find I am only filled with such selfish thoughts when I am with you, and so it is with such selfishness that I reveal my deepest wish. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my love, forever and always until the day we die.
Yours always,
Beatrice
---
Benedict sat on the windowsill, reading over the letter held tightly in his hands.
While in his own letter he had chosen to make his feelings know beyond all doubt, he had not expected Beatrice would do the same. It is not that he questioned her love for him, but even so it made it no less of a shock to see it written so bodly in her own hand.
Benedict had of course been certain she shared his feelings, but Beatiece was by nature more reserved than others. Certainly more than he had ever been. Her feelings had never been uncertain, but even when they were alone it was clear that she held herself back.
Not that he minded, of course. He found her shyness enduring, and never considered her in any way insincere. Quite the opposite; he truly thought her to be the most genuine person he had ever met.
So it was not a surprise that Beatrice felt she had to be so forthcoming with her concerns for him.
That she had been so worried for him in spite of her own feelings was an unwelcome revelation. Benedict had never wanted her to feel pain over any aspect of their relationship. And that she knew his choice, but still wished to convey he was not bound by to it made his heart ache. He felt it all the more when he considered that she did so in direct opposition to her own feelings, all for his sake.
But then she had followed it all with such a bold declaration of her love. Whatever pain he held was lessened considerably by her uncharacteristicly assertive words. Despite her feelings of guilt for her actions and the weight she believed she had placed upon him, she still chose to make her wishes known.
Beatrice loved him, and she had made it clear she wanted his love in return.
Benedict was soothed then in the knowledge that she had received his letter. Whatever worry she had about his choice were surely dispelled the moment she read it. There could now be no doubt between them that they both desired the same thing.
He only hoped this separation would end soon, so that he might show her the depths of his resolve.
He loved her, and she loved him. Regardless of what choice was made by others, he had already made his decision.
Benedict smiled as he folded the letter gently, sliding it back into the safety of its envelope. He prayed, as always, that tomorrow would be the day he received the news he so desperately longed to hear. But if he must continue waiting for a word that he could see her again, he would do so safe in the knowledge that Beatrice now knew his true feelings. And that wherever she was, she was waiting for him too.
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Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229 @mhmoony @mmmunson @iamcailin08 @mads198-9
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glitterjay · 3 days
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ENEMIES TO LOVERS | 이희승.LHS
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summary: heeseung finds himself drawn to the girl he initially clashed with. two competitive rivals notice the sparks that fly every time they encounter each other. beneath the surface of their hatred lies a hidden chemistry drawing them closer despite their efforts to resist. could love possibly fire up from sparks?
genre: feuding families, a little bit of everything (smut, fluff, angst), enemies to lovers
warnings: will contain smut (slight), heeeseung and reader are in their late 20s, more to be added.
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heeseung had called you early in the morning, asking if you had made it home. you didn't, in fact, and spent the night in the building. luckily, you were able to ask one of your workers to bring you a change of their clothes as a favor.
the blazer you had woken up with draped around your shoulders was hanging from a clothes hanger in your office. you found yourself staring at it from time to time as you recalled how heeseung had called to check in on you before mentioning that he had a meeting later to sort out your ideas together.
you tried to keep it professional, but the burning ache in your heart persisted. how could he act so naturally after having to work with his greatest enemy?
To Heeseung, you were just another person in his life. You weren't his enemy; you were his family's. It's true that he would get irritated, but that was because, in the back of his head, there was this thought that lingered, pointing out how good-looking and just perfect you looked.
-
the time for the meeting had arrived, and heeseung proposed that they meet at his apartment. the comfort of his own home helped him concentrate better, and he knew it was probably a better option for you rather than having to be stuck in that building again.
he didn't know why, but he turned on scented candles around the house, prepared a small cheese board that he set up in his living room, and played some soft music on a speaker as background noise.
there was this weird spark within his core again. It was confusing. he thought it was hate at first, since he would always get such a feeling when you'd win clients. but it was accompanied by a strange bubbly sensation in his stomach, and he swore again his heart had stopped for a mere second when he heard his phone buzz.
heeseung shook off every sense of nervousness that was invading his body and checked the message that had made his screen light up. It was you, saying you were standing in front of his door.
once he opened up, you offered him a smile of courtesy, which he reciprocated. little did you both know it was genuine joy in seeing each other.
having to deal with the same person for years was not only convenient when finding the other's flaws and weaknesses, but it also made you notice small details. heeseung knew you never drank coffee and went with tea instead. and you knew he only drank black coffee—no sugar, no nothing.
-
hours had passed of you sharing thoughts on how to make this alliance work and how it could benefit both of you at the same time. you had let your guard down without noticing, laughing and cracking jokes with heeseung as he tried to lighten up the mood. the tiredness in your eyes had faded the moment the conversation drifted from work.
he seemed like a nice and genuine man. you had learned that he loved singing and, like you, was forced to keep the family business running. the only difference was that heeseung's family wasn't as harsh as yours. he had a lot more freedom, and the decision to go on with the alliance was made by him.
"i'm basically doing this without my father knowing," you blurted out. he nodded in agreement, offering a piece of cheese he had taken from the board. "you're very respectable, you know. I hate that about you."
you froze in place, a sudden tension seeming to fall only on your shoulders. heeseung kept eating, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him.
"i hate that you knew how to hide everything you were going through, and how, despite everything, you looked fine."
"do you hate it, or do you envy it?"
it was heeseung's turn to tense up. he let out a sigh and let his shoulders relax. "both. and now there's this weird feeling in my chest that just won't go away."
your eyes widened at his words, igniting the spark in your chest as he spoke. for a moment, you could see tiny beams of light forming a string that connected your chest to his.
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