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lemonjoonah · 3 years

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Wrapped Together (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Rating: M Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism. Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi and @ladyartemesia thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t.

You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later.

“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.

“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.

“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”

“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”

“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.”

“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...”

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot.

Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights.

The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-

“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression.

“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.

He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?”

“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves.

“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall.

“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”

“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”

“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?”

“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”

“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return.

“So we're in the same boat?”

“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.

Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.”

“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by.

“Yes, thank you so much!”

“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist.

“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?”

Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present.

The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.”

Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’

As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin.

“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination.

The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill.

Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts.

You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved.

“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”

“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”

“No, they don’t!”

“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.

“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”

“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”

It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”

A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”

When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”

“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”

You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.

“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.

“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”

“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.

“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”

“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright.

...

Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.

“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”

“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.”

“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”

“Even the gift cards?”

“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”

“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown. “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”

“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”

“You’d be willing to show me?”

“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.”

After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another.

The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop.

“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation.

You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”

“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”

“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”

Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time.

“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”

You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”

His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”

After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon.

Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road.

“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?”

“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”

“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”

“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.

“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?”

You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence.

“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-”

“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”

“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.”

When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle.

...

Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat.

With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now.

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”

“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”

“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”

“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”

“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”

“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”

You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”

“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.”

You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.

Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.

Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape.

“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”

“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”

Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors.

“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation.

“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.

You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”

“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.

Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”

But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat.

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.

“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”

“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”

You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper.

Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt.

“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”

You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.

...

The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation.

“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart.

“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”

“Not because you would love a drive?”

“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”

You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.

“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”

“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car.

You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.

This was the only phone number I actually wanted. See you tomorrow, - Namjoon

...

You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.

You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in.

KNJ: Are you awake?

You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?

You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can.

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”

“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”

“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm.

“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”

“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”

“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”

You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.”

Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”

“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”

“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”

“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”

“Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”

“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”

“I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.

“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.

“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”

“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it.

All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away.

...

You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn.

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?”

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”

“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.

“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”

“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?”

“Eleven okay with you?”

You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”

...

You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down.

But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk.

“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”

“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”

“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”

“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”

Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art.

“A win-win.”

“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.”

“Which do you prefer more?”

“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”

“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection.

“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on.

While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers.

You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?”

“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”

A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?”

Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Can I help?”

“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.

“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.

“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”

Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”

The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is.

“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.

“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”

Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.

The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you.

Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear.

As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips.

“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces.

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”

While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible.

It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.

He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?”

“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before.

“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”

“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”

“Really? You would do that?”

When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you.

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.

“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”

“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”

The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”

“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm.

“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”

“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”

You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior.

After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.”

He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”

He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.

With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.

“I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.

“That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.

On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text.

“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”

“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”

“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.

“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment.

“Next year? You already promised to work it?”

“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”

“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”

“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”

You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”

“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.”

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor.

You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself.

The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”

“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”

“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.

“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”

“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”

He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d’oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.

Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.”

Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome.

“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”

“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”

“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.”

The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”

“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”

Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend.

You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink.

“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.”

“Valerie...” Eric growls.

“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?”

“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.”

Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you. “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?”

You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”

“Oh, does she- do they-”

“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”

“Why would he be cautious?”

“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again.

“Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”

Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”

“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”

“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia.

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon.

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size.

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer.

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid.

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.”

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to.

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms.

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”

Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall.

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays.

...

-Christmas Eve-

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning.

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver.

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along.

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised.

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk.

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.”

“It’s the holiday sea-”

“I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!”

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer.

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover.

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.

“I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.”

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.”

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him.

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...”

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive.

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.”

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first.

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left.

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.”

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned.

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow.

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party.

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.”

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.”

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift.

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time.

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?”

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person.

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.”

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.”

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.”

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look.

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait.

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds.

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not.

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you.

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear.

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in.

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground.

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air.

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth.

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile.

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.”

“I want that too. I want you.”

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.”

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft.

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch.

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes.

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

#bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #bts x reader #rm #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts christmas au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts wrapped together

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jamielea81 · 3 years

Text

Conversations

Bonus Chapter: Colorado

Description: Takes place a year and a half after the first bonus chapter Back to the Beginning. The reader and Chris are married with life changes ahead. Original description for the series Conversations: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader, Scott Evans

Warning: Slightly NSFW (18+ only!), cursing, talk of pregnancy, fluff, Grumpy and Sassy shenanigans.

A/N: Look who finally wrote a bonus chapter for Conversations! This girl, right here! Just a little timestamp in the reader and Chris’ life. And of course we needed some Scott time. You do not have to read the series to read this one shot, but it doesn’t hurt. Reblogs, comments, asks, what have you, I enjoy.

Italics are internal thoughts

“Honestly, love, it’s fine,” you spoke softly into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice even. The last thing you want is for him to feel worse than he already does.

“I don’t know…” Chris trailed off. “Usually, when women say the word fine, they really don’t mean, fine.”

“Such a guy,” you chuckle. “I promise, Scott and I are going to have a terrific time. He’s taking care of me and promised not to get us into any trouble.” You raise an eyebrow at your travel companion seated next to you in the hired car.

Chris laughed and then followed it up with a groan. “That does not make me feel better. Put me on speaker.”

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked or rather demanded. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Scott, you better take care of my wife. She’s precious cargo. And she’s carrying precious cargo. So, it’s extra precious cargo.”

You laughed; hand automatically going to your stomach. You were four months along and just starting to show. Family and close friends knew the two of you were expecting your first child, but the tabloids had not caught wind. The two of you had been going back and forth on whether to let People Magazine do an exclusive cover shoot when baby Evans is born. The money earned from People would be donated to charity which was the only reason you were even considering it. Plus, the whole you two breaking the news rather than the public finding out when you weren’t ready. Chris wanted to be the one to introduce his child to the world rather than having paparazzi sneaking into your backyard to get a picture. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“Would you relax! You’re going to give yourself a coronary and then I’d have to take care of both precious cargos and you don’t want that.” Scott shouted.

I really hope the driver doesn’t recognize Scott.

You smacked his arm, taking the call off speaker and bringing it back to your ear. “Chris, we are both going to be just fine. The plane ride was as relaxing as any plane ride can be and we are almost to the hotel. Scott and I are going to pamper ourselves and eat lots of great food. Work is important and I completely understand.”

Chris got called back to Los Angeles for reshoots that he couldn’t get out of. He planned a couple of mini babymoons and this was going to be the first one. Because of your advanced age – insert eyeroll – your doctor had mentioned it may not be safe to travel a lot once you were six months along. Chris took this seriously and booked a trip to Colorado at a gorgeous snowy mountain resort. There wouldn’t be any skiing, just loads of alone time and cuddling by the fireplace. When Chris had to cancel, Scott stepped in and volunteered the cuddles.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you. I’m just disappointed our romantic getaway is now being shared with Scott. My brother,” he said, voice in mock disgust.

“It’s fine. Scott and I haven’t hung out just the two of us in forever.” Scott reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Have a great time and rest please.”

“You know I will. I love you, babe. Say hi to Pedro for me,” you said, smile evident in your voice.

“I will. Love you too.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans?” The check in clerk, Barbara according to her nametag asked.

“That’s right,” Scott chimed in, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Newlyweds.”

You forced a smile and bit the inside of your cheek so that you wouldn’t laugh.

“Congratulations!” she replied with a sweet smile on her face.

She tapped her chin with her index finger before going back to her keyboard. “Let’s see what I can do here,” Barbara replied, typing away on the computer in front of her. “We have you in a one-bedroom suite with a mountain view, but,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I’m moving the two of you to one of our honeymoon suites.”

Scott gasped and slapped his hand on the countertop. “That’s mighty nice of you,” he spoke in a fake southern accent.

Where did that come from?

“Me and the misses really appreciate it. Don’t we honey?” he asked, turning his attention back to you.

“My pleasure,” Barbara said before you could reply, laying two room keycards on the counter next to Scott’s hand.

You smiled brightly but kept your mouth closed, so afraid of letting a chuckle out or saying the wrong thing. Scott steered you away from the counter, placing a hand on your bottom.

Once you turned the corner to the bank of elevators, you yanked Scott’s hand off your behind.

“Newlyweds. Really?”

“It got us an upgrade, didn’t it dear?”

The first night you were fine. Scott kept you occupied with stories of the single life and the wonders of online dating. You weren’t sure how he did it. Or rather, how he didn’t. After he told you about the guy who wore Barney the dinosaur underwear in a child’s size husky, you laughed until you cried.

“But did you still sleep with him?” you asked wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Sassy! Of course not. Barneeeeyyyy,” he drawled out.

Shrugging your shoulders, you got up to grab yourself a tissue from the bathroom. Coming back in the room, Scott was on his phone, fingers swiping feverously. You plopped down on the couch, tucking one leg under yourself.

“Here,” Scott said, handing you his phone. On screen was what you would refer to as tall, dark, and handsome.

“He’s hot,” you said, passing the phone back to him.

“Barney.”

“No,” you gasped.

Scott sighed before he started to laugh which got you going once again.

The second day you weren’t so fine. The two of you ordered breakfast in the suite. Pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy thick cut bacon, sausage links, a bowl of mixed fruit, and decaf coffee because Scott was in solidarity with you on your caffeine hiatus.

“Let’s go for a walk. There are tons of trails that the resort clears of snow. I need to work off this breakfast,” Scott said patting his stomach.

“You and me both,” you said, getting up to put on actual clothes instead of the pajamas you were still wearing.

“You are so lucky. Get to eat whatever you want and can just blame it on the baby.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face him, lower lip slightly wobbling. Since the minute you found out you were pregnant, you found it really hard to control your emotions. You knew Scott didn’t mean anything by the commit, but your brain couldn’t help itself.

“I have to work really hard to be healthy. It’s bad enough the doctor said I’m old.” A sob escapes your lips. The tears already starting to roll down your cheeks. “I can’t have any caffeine, can’t eat a lot of my favorite foods, have to cut back on my salt. My salt! You know fries are my jam. Doesn’t help that my husband is built like a fucking Greek God. I’m not a model or an actress. I already feel like Dodger’s poo compared to him.”

Scott was out of his seat before you could utter another word. Strong arm pulling you to his chest while one hand cradled your head.

“Stop that. You are fucking beautiful and frankly my bonehead brother is lucky you agreed to marry him. Do you even know how many times I have had to leave the room in the last two months when he starts talking about you growing his child inside you and that it turns him on?” Scott pulls away slightly an emulates puking.

“Stop,” you said, burying your head in his neck.

“Why is my neck wet, Sassy.”

“It’s snot,” you said with a chuckle, wrapping your arm around him and holding on tight.

“You two are meant for each other.”

After a minute he pulled away and grasped both of your hands. “I’m with you in any way you need. If you need a healthy eating buddy, I am your man. If you want to say ‘to hell with it’, I’ll pick up McDonalds for the two of us every day if you like.”

You wiped at your eyes and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I love you Grumpy.”

“Love you too,” he replied and then clapped his hands together. “So, are we napping or are we walking?”

“Walking,” you stated, making your way into the bedroom to finally get changed.

That evening, the two of you got dressed up and went to your dinner reservation at the hotel where you were addressed as Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Scott stuck to sparkling water even though you encouraged him to get an alcoholic beverage.

“I don’t need to drink to be the life of the party. You know that.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d kept you entertained even without the raspberry liquor he force fed you years ago.

“I think we need a dance party when we get back to the room. For old time sakes. Before I am too big to shake it.”

“Done and done.”

The night ended in a bubble bath with both you and Scott in your swimsuits in an oversized soaking tub. Dozens of pictures were taken with many going to your husband. Rather than a text in return, he called.

“What is this? My brother movin’ in on my wife?”

“Babe! You know that it was me and Scott from the start,” you teased.

Chris chuckled. “You go away for a couple of days and it’s like that.”

“You know you are my one and only. Scott’s just making me smile.”

“I know baby. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you said.

The next day you were weepy. As much as you tried to put on a happy face, you were missing Chris. Pregnancy hormones or not, Chris had been working a lot and you had barely seen each other. This romantic babymoon wasn’t what you had in mind. Yes, spending it with your best friend was great, but it wasn’t the same.

The fire place was roaring while Magic Mike was queued up on the flat screen. You and Scott were dressed in jeans and cable knit sweaters with fuzzy socks on your feet. The snow was coming down heavy which was fine with you since neither of you had any place to be.

Pop in hand, though you wouldn’t let Scott hear you call soda that, diet for you, regular for him, the only thing you were needing was Dodger’s wet nose on your stomach and Chris.

“You know, Chris can do that,” you said pointing at the screen where one of the dancers picked up an audience member like she weighed a pound.

“No. Stop. Do not ruin this movie for me. I do not need to picture what you and my brother do.”

“Scott, you do know where babies come from, right?”

“Gross.”

You chuckled, standing up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Why you brought up Chris when you already cried twice this morning was beyond you. After using the bathroom, you cleaned up your face and stepped back into the living room of your suite.

Scott draped himself over the couch, phone in hand, eyes shifting between the screen of his phone and the TV.

“I think I’m going to take another bath. Need to relax a little bit.”

Scott looked up. “Not too hot.”

“Yes, dad,” you said, offering him a mock salute.

You kept the bath water warm, but added extra oils and bubbles to make it feel more luxurious. The lights were off but a few candles were lit and your phone played 90s R&B. You snapped a pic of your soapy legs and sent it to Chris. Within a few minutes you had a reply.

Chris: My brother better not be in there

Y/N: I’m all alone

Chris: We can’t have that

You heard the door open and you scolded yourself for not locking the door. This text conversation seemed to be heading into rated R territory. You did not need Scott to witness that.

“Scott,” you drawled out. “I’m not wearing my suit tonight. Get out of here.”

When you heard the distinct sound of a belt buckle, you turned around. Rather than Scott dropping his pants, it was Chris.

You gasped, mouth hanging open.

“Room for one more sweetheart?”

You nodded your head unable to form words but those tears had no trouble forming.

Chris continued to undress while you tried your best to compose yourself. He joined you a moment later slipping in behind you.

“How? I thought you were working.”

“I put in some long hours so that I could get to you. I was miserable without you.”

“I know that feeling,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest. Chris lightly rubbing your stomach before sliding his hands up to your breasts, fingers tips rubbing against your nipples. “Babe, did you lock the door?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, I got Scott another room.”

You reached your left hand behind you grabbing on to Chris’ head bringing his mouth to yours. Chris kissed you deeply, your back automatically arching at the taste of his tongue.

“Was he mad?” you asked.

“I don’t even care,” he replied, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Neither do I.”

Tagging: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @xoxabs88xox @heartislubbingdubbing @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @ab-baybay @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @dangerouslovefanfic@kelbabyblue @sweetlittlegingy @dont-need-another-fandom @chrisevansforever @evansxxx @southerngracela @bitterstar88 @squirrelnotsam @kitkatd7 @marvelislove10 @the-doctors-fallen-angel @hista-girl @cocomel0613 @also-fangirlinsweden @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @lakamaa12 @deidrashouseofpain @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @zestygingergirl @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee

#chris evans #scott evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans imagine #conversations

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dantelionwishes · 3 years

Text

"Watanabe."

Sato spoke in a firm tone as he leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed with difficult-to-read expression across his face. He was never a fan of lecturing his students like this, but it needed to be done every now and then. Kids were getting more and more stubborn nowadays, and he's not sure who to blame.

"We've discussed this in the past during our classes. Have you forgotten? Tell me." The teacher waited for an answer from the injured boy, his voice loud and clear with instruction.

A soft huff came from the boy. He felt like he was somehow dying and dead at the same time. Everything hurt. Everything felt terrible.

"... I was winning." He croaked. Whether that was really true or not didnt seem to matter. Maybe he fried his brain a little...

"You were winning in a losing battle with yourself, Watanabe." The teacher had raised his voice a little with urgency, "So many times. I've told you to never overuse your quirk like that." Even while wearing the mask it was clear how loud his voice was getting as he spoke, a growing exasperated appearance on his usually calm face.

"Do you understand the risks you physically take when you pull of stunts like these, Watanabe? Do you?"

....

He turned his head away from his teacher, grunting lightly. Hell, even that simple movement hurt like hell-- "Everyone's quirks b-.. Backfires somehow." Sniff. "... 's not my fault-... Not my fault mine sucks." If he had just gone a little further he could have knocked her out of the ring. Could have proceeded. Hell, he might have won the entire event!

A sigh.

He was crying. Sato took a deep breath to calm himself down and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"You're not listening to me, you can't even answer my question." His brain really was that close to getting melted, his student's basically delusional at this point. He can't think of anything else. Sato really is grateful to have a co-teacher like Lucca to act as referee. Their special class of unique students were a bit stubborn, almost comparable to the current third years when they were younger.

"I've told everyone in class to not overuse their quirk, not just you." The teacher leafed through Taishiro's medical papers, briefly going through the history of his quirk. "Do you understand where I'm going, Watanabe?" Based on the student's expression alone, he knew he wasn't listening.

Previous records of burns. Overuse. Overheating in summer. Some brief notes about malnutrition and possible neglect from a few years back-

"......"

Was he listening? Tired? Or did he fuck himself up and needed longer to think? Oh lord.. ".... Ss.." ow

".... Sato-sensei... I-- gh... You don't get it at all." sniffle. Ow existing is painful. "... I-i have to."

"You don't." His voice stayed unyielding, but kinder. "You don't have to, Watanabe."

Sato set the papers beside away, handing it to Recovery Girl who watched with a worried expression. "It's...a high school event," he approached, sitting at the foot of the bed where his student rested. "Watanabe. It's a sports festival. You are a sixteen years old teenage student who shouldn't be focusing on studies and making friends."

"...."

Sniff

".... You d.. you don't get it-" It felt like no one did "You just-- S-sometimes you just gotta deal with a little pain- UGH-" Yoshie look what you did you fucked up the kid- He squeezed his eyes(?) Closed. "T-... To get where you need to.."

"A little." He repeated, "A little pain." Sato felt a nerve pop at how Tai's words, but let it slide. Take a deep breath, you're past your prime, Osamu. It's his story, not yours. Don't make it about you. The kid needs this. He needs you right now.

The teacher pointed to his pitch-black hands, his injuries, his bandages, his current state of being. There was even a constant, soft whirring of a fan as his student recovered in bed. "You're going to get yourself killed before you can get where you need to, Taishiro. I can't let you do this."

His hands twitched. There was an attempt to ball his fists, but the pain didn't do any favours.. If he kept this up then he'd lose the functions in his hands entirely, if not the hands themselves.

"W-" An attempt to sit up. Very short lived though. "Y-you're not kicking me out of the tournament are you?!" Owie his throat. "You can't do that!"

"Stay still, Watanabe-kun!" Recovery Girl raised her voice from her seat, upset. "You shouldn't move around so much in your condition. You're going to stay here until you've stabilized." She crossed her arms. "Anything happens to you, and it's going to be on me!"

"You heard the boss," Sato turned back to his student, putting a sympathetic hand on Tai's blanketed knee. "Please, you need all the rest you can get. You need this more than anything else right now."

B- but that's not fair!!!" He shook a little. Pain? Anger? Who knows. "I was so close-- You can't do this to me, Sensei!!!" Oop tears ahoy

"Close to dying, if that was your goal." The teacher's expression was solemn, serious. This conversation was getting nowhere, and his student continued to be stubborn and in denial. He wished he could stay here for him, but he's got his job as a homeroom teacher cut out for him. He has other students to tend to, but this one...he might not be enough for Tai.

"I don't want you risking your life out there, against your own classmates. It's. A sports festival. You're supposed to be having fun out there." Sato pointed to the window, where the stadium could be seen from the clinic, "You enrolled here to become a hero, didn't you? What's the point if you don't make it to fighting villains? You won't be anywhere close if everything ends here."

"If I can't handle a sports festival how am i going to handle villains?!??" Angy.. "I-its not my fault I was matched with someone powerful!!"

"No hero gets to choose who they'll fight on the battle field. That's exactly what you're here in UA, Watanabe." Sato raked his fingers through his own locks, giving his student a meaningful glance. "To learn."

The usually tired teacher's eyes began to blaze with passion. "You're going to exactly learn how to, without endangering yourself. I've been teaching you how to, haven't I?" He didn't enroll into education for nothing, after all. "Or perhaps my classes really are that boring, hm?" Sato passed a joking glare towards Taishiro, recalling his grades and current standing.

".. I was winning" Huff "You should be happy about that... One of your students was doing good.. And now you're blocking him from winning"

He's not listening. Teenagers really are a different breed, huh?

The bed shifted from Sato's weight as he slowly moved towards the other student before gently, softly, enveloping Taishiro in the warmest hug he could give without adding pain to his injuries.

"You've done amazingly, well beyond my expectations...and now you need to rest. I'm so sorry I have to stop you here, when you're so close. I really am." Sato brings a hand behind Taishiro's head, carefully caressing his brightly coloured hair. He strokes the back of his head gently, speaking in a voice just as tender.

"I'm more than happy, Watanabe. Thank you for being a proud, strong student of Class 1-X."

He flinches a little from the pressure. Ow- Injury--

Whens the last time someone pet his hair like this? Not since he was tiny, probably. It was nice. Reminded him of snoozing on his dads lap on the way home from the park.

...

Sniff.

Sniff sniff-

The tears were already there, of course, but this just made it worse, thick black tears pouring from his eyes(?) Mann.. Even after all of that. After almost melting himself alive. After being so stubborn..

He was still just a teenager.

Hic-

He trembled, hiccuping as his lip trembled... And finally fully giving into his tears. Wailing onto his teacher. Sorry Sato your shirt is gonna get stained

It's not the first time Sato's shirt got stained with black tears. If anything, he's just happy to be there for his students in their time of need. He continues speaking what's on his mind, all the while hugging and comforting him via headpats.

"You kids are going to be the future. You guys are going to protect us when the time is right," voice low and soothing, he kept going. "So as your teacher, I can't have you risking your life as early as now. It would be my fault if something bad happened to you, it meant I didn't teach right."

He leaned back, breaking the hug. Even with the mask, Sato's smile was evident as his eyes crinkled with encouragement and pride towards Taishiro. "So with that, please continue being a good student, 'kay? Study well and become a great hero."

Hic hic hic--

Oh he's a mess. Aw man the bandages are gonna get stained too. :C

He kept shaking. Pained. Both emotionally and physically. God he was so tired-- "I-i'm trying!!"

"Trying a bit too hard, I'd say." Sato laughed softly, if not a bit cocky.

"You'll need some extra remedial classes if you want to be a good hero. And maybe some extra focus." Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Ah, right on time. Recovery Girl glanced as Sato put away his phone into his pocket, did he contact someone?

"Come right in, sir. The door's open."

Sniff...

He lifted his head. Another doctor maybe? Who would- ...

"Taishiro-!"

Oh lord-

Yoshie wastes no time. He's still in his pizza place uniform. Pizza smell. Pizza man.. He dashes over to grab and hold his son, of course causing the kid a little more pain but- Hey he could deal. Proabbly-

"D- Dad?!"

"Tai- Taishiro i saw everything--" He grabbed his son by the shoulders, face full of concern.

"How could you do that to yourself?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!?!"

"Dad...-"

"No! You can't-- Son. You can't keep doing this!!"

"I was winni-" "YOU WERE KILLING YOURSELF, TAI."

...

Tai is pulled in for a tight hug again, his father tearing up as he holds his son protectively, tai looking stunned for a moment.

"You can't do that-- Why would--" A sniff. From Yoshie this time. "..You're my only son, Tai! You can't do that to yourself!"

The father turned his head a little, looking at the teacher. ".. I-is it possible for me to take him home? Watch over his recovery?"

Sato hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well...it's a miracle the match ended before things for irreversible. It's another miracle that we've got such an amazing nurse on our side, too." He glances over to Recovery Girl for an opinion. "What do you say, Ma'am?"

"He's still a bit unstable, so we need to watch over him a bit more. He did too much work this festival, so..." The school nurse herself huffs, always with the tendency to scold those she heals up. "Learn to control yourself, young man! You're still a teenager, don't risk yourself at this age!" She raises her cane, gesturing to all the other students in the ward. "And that goes for all of you, too! Got that?!" A collective groan from the injured students follows, sounding like a "yes, ma'am."

The teacher decided to continue for her, "He should be okay to bring home by tomorrow." He placed a hand on Yoshie's shoulder, kind but firm. "Don't worry Watanabe-san, your son is in good hands."

"...."

A small nod, before he turns back to his son, cupping the students face.

"Tai.. I know it's not been easy. I know-.. I know i've not been the best father to you-" Two idiots be crying "... But this-..You can't do this. Not for my sake.." Looks like he saw the rin match. oop. "You have to do things for yourself. Make friends! ignore your work-- Hell, get another piercing- Just.. Don't give up your youth for me, Tai."

"D..."

All of this was for him.. All of this was.. All... "

... D-daaad-!!"And back to wailing he goes, his father chuckling a little through his own tears, holding him close. and letting his son cry it out. There was a lot of healing to be done, but at least this time he'd fight like hell to be around to help with it.

Sato watched as the two cried in each others arms, relieved that things turned out pretty well in the end. He excused himself from the clinic, waved goodbye to the nurse, father, and patient.

Now, then...

As soon as he closed the infirmary door behind him, Hikari, the redheaded girl from the other class was clutching her cellphone anxiously as she stuttered to find her voice. He wasn't well acquainted with her, but knew she did rather well in his class knowing that she received some sort of prior training from her pro hero relatives with that unfortunate quirk of hers. And she's the last of Class 1-Y standing...if anything, he's a bit worried considering Lucca's most anxious student is going to fight his scariest, angriest student.

"It's okay. He's doing well." He craned his neck as he looked up at the towering high schooler, "It's not your fault."

Taishiro didn't know Hikari's immunity to heat and fire. Trying to pull off a stunt like burning himself up in the inside to try and fry her only backfired completely. She couldn't do anything either, doing her damnedest to keep herself in the stage even if he kept rewounding time. Lucca must have noticed her student's distress in trying to get close to Taishiro to stop him. I really have to treat her to drinks sometime, it's tough being a teacher.

"S.....S-Sensei...."

A broken whimper stopped his trail of thought.

"Ah, sorry. You want me to escort you back to the stadium? Don't worry, I know Fuwa is scary and all, but--"

"........it's not th-that...."

Sato raised a brow and observed her movements. She's always trembling, but...she's shaking pretty badly. The student looks like she just finished crying, puffy eyes, nose and all. She clutched her phone close to her body before opening her mouth again. Hikari recalled the conversation she had on the phone and mustered up all the courage she had.

"I...I need to go home."

#bnha oc comeback #hikari kamino #Osamu Sato sensei #bnha oc #drabble #others ocs

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 2/3

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

You got up really early despite staying up late and only getting five hours of sleep max, but once you woke up, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to bed so you prepared for the day, waiting for Sukuna’s call. You went to the patio which faced the backyard, carried a small blanket and brought your battered copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s prose collection with you.

A few hour later, you heard stirring in the house and it wasn’t long before Satoru found you. He sat on the lounge chair opposite yours and just stared at you through sleepy eyes. He looked all disheveled, eyes bloodshot and yawning several times. He really couldn’t handle his alcohol and when he wakes up after drinking more than he could take, he always ends up befuddled and unable to make sense of his surroundings, not to mention irritable.

When he just sat there without saying anything and staring at you, you snapped your book close. “What is it?”

He snapped out of a seeming trance. “Oh. You have a guest.”

“Huh?”

“Ieiri said it’s Howard.” He yawned again, stretching his arms.

“Sukuna?”

“Yes, him.”

You scrambled off the lounge chair, nearly knocking it to the side with your weight as you half crawled, half-ran towards the door, suddenly remembering your agreement the previous night. You were mentally slapping yourself as you made your way into the hallway, planning to go up to your room to have a change of clothes. You weren’t sure what he wanted to do because he did not exactly specify that bit.

However, your plans did not come into fruition when you passed by the lattice wood and glass partition between the kitchen and the hallway and saw him.

“Y/N!” Ieiri pretty much yelled your name out, calling your attention and making you jump, startled. “Howard’s here.”

Sukuna glanced at her momentarily, probably catching the name she referred to him with.

The protest died in your throat when you saw Sukuna standing by the counter, looking so out of place in such a domestic setting although he was dressed casually in a black tee with a wide collar that exposed his collarbones for the world to see and faded jeans, similar to the one he wore that time he came to your school.

You grimaced at the realization that you were just standing there like an oaf, checking him out. It was evident in the way his smile morphed into a shy one as he bit his lower lip while Ieiri and Suguru grinned evilly at you. Feigning ignorance to their reactions, you entered the kitchen, brows knit together, shooting Ieiri an inquisitorial look after nodding at Sukuna’s direction. It was a dumb way of greeting people, but that was about what you could manage with the way your brain was being fried at the mere sight of him.

“I didn’t know we received guests in the kitchen now,” you commented, noticing the number of grocery bags on the counter. “You did the shopping?”

“I did,” Sukuna answered you. “I told you I was going to do something for you.”

“'You' being the technical term,” you said with a smirk when you realized what he was planning. “So you’re gonna cook for me?”

“Yes.”

You eyed your two friends who were eyeing Sukuna in anticipation. “Just me?”

“Stingy,” Ieiri commented, pouting.

Woman, you thought, eyeing her sternly in case she had plans to say something embarrassing. You spoke before she could say more, approaching Sukuna who was suddenly just looking at you, your eyes in particular. Out of a sudden, he reached out and touched the spot just under your left eye, making you step back at the sudden contact. He was touchy, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting him to be so candid in front of your friends on such a setting.

“Your eyes are swollen. Is something the matter?”

You smiled at him then, shaking your head. “I didn’t sleep enough last night.” You busied yourself by checking the things he bought. “So…” You looked at his pretty hands then at him. “The Spring God can cook?”

He gave you a funny look at the nickname you gave him. “Watch the Kitchen God work!” He chuckled then turned his attention to Ieiri. “I was just asking Ieiri if I could borrow the kitchen.”

“It’s more Suguru’s kitchen than hers,” you sniped at her who was now sitting on the counter, chin on the heel of her palm as she looked at the pair of you as if she was watching a really cheesy romance drama.

“Then it’s settled. I have to cook for them, too.” He ruffled your hair then. “Mind helping me?”

“I’ll leave you kids then,” she said sounding like a mom, leaving the kitchen and blocking Satoru’s progress when he was about to enter, leading him out into the living room much to the latter’s annoyance.

You shook your head, snickering. You really couldn’t wrap yourself around the fact that Sukuna could cook. “Should I get you an apron, chef?” you asked, meaning to taunt him, but then he took out a rolled-out piece of black cloth from a black case he brought along with the groceries and said, “I brought my own.”

Knowing that you can’t say anything else to annoy him about cooking, you started sorting out the things he brought, taking them out of the bags and fixing them in an organized way on the counter while he proceeded to take the foodstuff to the sink. All the while, you were watching him as he cleaned everything, his dexterous hands moving with precision and unmistakable expertise.

After fixing everything and putting away the bags, you stood beside him on the sink. “You do this a lot?”

“Pretty much.”

It was fascinating to watch him work so you didn’t say anything else until he took the case again and produced a professional-looking set of knives with customized handles. “Okay, now I’m scared.” You arched a brow at him. “Why the hell do you have a knife set?”

“I love to cook,” he answered, laughing slightly without taking his eyes from what he was doing.

“I figured, but I thought, you know just cooking at home, following online recipes and stuff like that.”

At that, he laughed. “Those recipes don’t work half the time.”

“Oh, okay,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his sentiment but then you saw how he was cutting the ingredients on the chopping board like a pro. “I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“Now I mind assisting you. I refuse.” You felt a bit miffed about his mad skills in the kitchen, and you knew it would be foolish to even question how his dish, or dishes rather, was going to turn out. It got you thinking about every other thing he can possibly do, and you found yourself falling deeper. “I’m shit in the kitchen. You can have Suguru to help you.”

“But I already asked him for help yesterday to plan all this.”

“Did you now?” Your eyes flicked over to the counter that divided the kitchen and the living room and glared at your friend, remembering your conversation with him. He threw you a rueful smile.

Sukuna pouted. “You can’t take it back. Surely, you can chop onions.”

“I guess.” You took out a knife from the rack and grabbed an onion. “How do you like it?”

“Minced.”

“Okay.” You started chopping the thing rather slowly, trying to be precise, but since you were taking too long, your eyes started watering before you could even get it halfway done. “Ah, shit!” you grumbled, putting the knife down rather harshly.

Sukuna laughed, turning you around so you were facing him. “Are you okay?” he asked in between laughter, wiping your tears away with some paper towels. “You were too slow.”

You screwed your eyes shut, still feeling the sting behind your eyelids. “Well, I don’t cook.” When you opened your eyes, you almost stopped breathing when you saw those dark orbs of his directly in front of you.

“Oh no, sweetheart, you’re crying,” he cooed.

“Onion…” You took the paper towel from him and started wiping your eyes yourself, turning away from him when you saw the teasing beam on his face. “Shut up.”

“You’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m cooking for you, and I’m annoying? Let’s see how that opinion changes once you taste this masterpiece.”

You did not say anything about the matter anymore and instead watched him work, handing him this and that and doing as he tells you. Sukuna was kinda scary to work with since he obviously had a fixed process about how things should be done, but at the same time, you found yourself mesmerized by his fluidity as he moved around as if he had been in the kitchen his whole life.

“What are you making anyway?” you asked as you were putting away the things he didn’t need anymore.

He looked over his shoulder as he stirred whatever he was making. “That’s a secret.”

You shrugged, looking into the pot. “Just tell me already.”

He placed his free arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, seemingly oblivious to the three pairs of eyes which looked towards the direction of the kitchen every so often, spying on the two of you. “Patience, sweetheart. You’re gonna spoil the surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whined.

He planted a quick kiss on your forehead. “You’ll see.”

By the time Sukuna was done, your dining room looked more like a five-star restaurant than that of one owned by four university students. Well, the table did. You weren’t really familiar with the dishes he prepared since he won’t tell you what they were. You only recognized the lobster thermidor, but all the others were a mystery.

Your friends were thrilled when they saw the table and you were just stunned. You pretty much just watched Sukuna, but he didn’t let you see what he was doing in the dining room, making you promise to sit down in the pantry while he prepared. He went overboard, but you loved it, too.

“I feel like I’m going to pay with all the contents of my bank account after this meal,” Suguru said as he sat down at the edge of the table, making Sukuna laugh.

You sat to his left while the chef sat beside you, explaining the dishes to you and the three other people with you with such technical terms, half of which you didn’t really understand. Suguru did though. Sukuna plated the first dish and offered it to them.

“I hope you would find them to your liking,” he said.

“Y/N’s grandpa would be super impressed if he was here to see this,” Ieiri asked.

You snorted. “Oh my god, Ieri, what are you being such a pain for?” You turned to Sukuna then who looked at you questioningly, but you pretended not to notice. “And you, chill and eat. They can get their own food.” He grinned at you but instead of serving food for himself, he started putting food on your plate. You watched him pointedly. “I can do that myself. Eat!”

“In a bit.” He finished by placing sauce on the lobster then smiled your way before getting food for himself.

“This is phenomenal cooking, man,” Satoru commented delightedly at the first bite, seemingly forgetting about his headache, and Suguru made a sound of approval, eating with gusto. “Will you cook for us every day?”

“Suguru!” you protested.

Sukuna laughed at that. “Maybe not every day.”

You shot him an annoyed look but ate as well. They were right. His cooking was beyond good. “On second thoughts, I don’t mind you cooking for us every day, too. This is totally great!”

“Told you.”

The meal was rather pleasant with your pals engaging Sukuna, obviously taken by him. The deal was sealed where he was concerned. You knew it had nothing to do with the food. They just liked him. He mostly conversed with them while you just pitched in once in a while, too busy eating. Besides, you wanted them to get to know him, too, and you were more than glad that Sukuna was making the effort to be acquainted to them.

After lunch, Suguru and Satoru volunteered to do the dishes, in a very good mood after the magical meal while Ieiri tidied up, leaving you and Sukuna alone. You decided to tour him around the house although there was nothing much to see, leading him into the upstairs hallways. Your house was quite big for only the four of you, but not stately or anything. It was just a normal house with too few inhabitants and too many rooms.

You walked towards the west hall. “Those are all guest rooms and those at the end of the hallway are Satoru and Suguru’s rooms.”

“Where’s yours?” he asked.

You cocked your head towards the east hallway, beckoning him to follow you as you led the way to said room, pointing out the other rooms you passed by, just three of them until you reached the last door. You pushed the door open and gestured for him to enter.

“Huge space,” he commented as he looked appraisingly around, his feet leading him to the large, framed posters of your favorite book-based films and games. “You are a nerd.”

You just watched him, leaning against one of your bookshelves as he ran a finger over your "Harry Potter" movie poster. “Guilty.”

Sukuna then went look at your book collection. “It’s not bad.”

“I’m a literature major. I think it makes sense.”

“Books and more books. How many of these have you actually read?” he asked, taking your volume of "Twelfth Night."

“All of them.”

He eyed you, evidently impressed. “Shakespeare?”

“Yeah. That’s basic in my field.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Beautiful, cultured and smart. I like it.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

“It’s true.” He returned the book on its place. “So, apart from literature, what else are you interested in?” He glanced at the glass case at the opposite end of the room where your scale-model figures and rows upon rows of console games were. “Well, apart from action figures and video games.”

“Hmm.” You pretended to be brooding over it. “Well, recently, I’ve just been interested in one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

He chuckled, pulling you towards him, the warmth of his hands burning through the fabric of your shirt, making you all giddy. “Alright, sweetheart. Your brutal frankness is really scaring me.”

“Door’s wide open. You can run.”

“You won’t chase after me?” he asked.

“You’re gonna wanna see me after anyway, so no.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” But then, he seemed to have thought of something. “Why does Ieiri call me ‘Howard’?”

You retreated from him and slumped down one of the beanbags while he sat on your swivel chair, turning it a hundred and eighty degrees repeatedly. “You caught that, huh?” You couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled from your throat at his question. “I didn’t know your name the night we met but Satoru told them about you and I kinda just used the name to refer to you. You know, from the book I was reading at Maki’s.”

“The architect.”

“That one.”

“I see. I don’t mind then since you told me you’re in love with the character.” He winked at you. “But yeah, I was wondering if you enjoyed the meal at all. You haven’t said anything.”

“That speaks volumes of how much I enjoyed it.”

“I’m not really good at this whole impressing anybody thing, but I wanted to make the effort for you and your friends.” Sukuna sighed in relief. “I’ve only ever had one girlfriend after all, and I didn’t really do much in the relationship. And I never really went out with other women after that either save for some casual dates.” He smiled sheepishly at you, but he was confused at your reaction.

You just stared at him quizzically and in disbelief. There was no way you will ever believe that he only dated steadily once and didn’t go out that much to paint the town red. It was inconceivable for the obvious fact that he was so beautiful it was inhuman along with that great personality he has. Women will be lining up for him for sure.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

You shook your head, looking dubiously at him. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Nope.” He shook his head as if to punctuate his statement.

“Everywhere we go, girls look at you and you expect me to believe that crap?” Hell, you wanted to pounce on him more often than not.

His expressions turned smug. “You care enough to notice, I see.”

It was unbelievable but you had to take his word for it. “You don’t sleep around either?”

“No. It just isn’t my thing.”

You just stared at him, your lower lip jutting out, not in disbelief anymore but in wonder. He’s a sensitive soul, you’ve figured that out, but you didn’t know it ran deeper than what you’ve seen so far.

“Don’t look so sad there.”

“I’m not. I really just don’t see it happening.”

“Should I be flattered?” he asked, but before you could answer, he said, “How about you?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly thinking hard about what you’re going to say to him. You didn’t really have a good track record where dating seriously was concerned. It was just not your cup of tea. “I’ve never had an exclusive relationship...” you began, eyeing him cautiously, “…ever.”

“Never?” He seemed to be having difficulty processing that.

You shook your head, your gaze guarded as you tried to gauge his reaction to your revelation. Somehow, you did not expect him to ask about the matter, and when he did, you didn’t really have a clue as to how you would address it. You realized just how different you were from him on that department. He seemed to value the emotions that come with engaging in physical intimacy while you just didn’t care enough for anyone to notice it.

“Now you’re shitting me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You frowned. “I think I mentioned this to you in passing the second time we met. I don’t date, at least not steadily.”

Sukuna obviously couldn’t wrap his head around the thought. “So you haven’t had a steady commitment with anyone?”

Again with the negative response. “Uh-uh.”

“Is it a matter of choice or is it a matter incapability, this I-don’t-date thing?”

“Both?” You shrugged, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. “I don’t for the reason that I don’t want to make a steady commitment. I just don’t see myself being invested with such intensity in anyone in a romantic way.”

“And why can’t you?”

“I get sick of people I’m involved with. In that manner, at least.” You chuckled humorlessly. “So…yeah.”

“But you’ve dated, right?”

You nodded. “Openly, yes, but I don’t stay long enough to really get into the whole relationship thing.” Talking about it was excruciating. It wasn’t something you discussed even with your friends. Suguru thought of it as you playing the field, but really, you had issues with the prospect of staying in an established bond with one person for a long period of time. You didn’t really know what to do with the information although you understood the mechanics.

He frowned then, looking deeply troubled. “So, you don’t date?”

“I did not date.” You made sure to emphasize on the past tense, knowing well what he would be assuming. “'Did not' being the operative term.”

“And now?” he asked, standing up when you did, too.

You stepped towards him. “What do you want it to be? It doesn’t just depend on me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said patiently, coming to meet you halfway and cupping your face as he tilted his head down to look at you squarely in the eyes. “But I do want you for the long run.”

“For now, it’s just that you’re slowly changing my views about it,” you returned. “But I like you, Sukuna. And I care about you. A hell lot. Does that answer your question?”

He nodded.

You reached up, touching his face, running your finger over his jawline. “Can we work with that?”

He pressed his lips onto your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. “Count on it.”

***

"How do I look?" you asked as you walked into the living room in the black, long-sleeved, backless, lace mini cocktail dress that Ieiri chose for you, your pencil heels of the same color clacking on the tiled flooring. You found your three friends lined up on the couch like expectant parents who were sending off their daughter to her first dance, making you laugh.

"Stunning!" Satoru complimented without hesitation, jumping up the couch to make his way to you. "Our daughter's grown up, Suguru."

"Last time I checked, I'm the only one who was raising her," the other male replied.

"You did a good job."

"I did a good job," Ieiri chimed in.

You shook your head, checking the contents of your clutch. It was hopeless trying to get a proper answer from them, but you needed their output since you were new to the whole dressing-up for dinner thing because you never really allowed anyone to wine-and-dine you; never wasted time and resources on anybody you knew you weren’t exactly interested in for the long run. Still, you were more than happy to say yes to Sukuna when he said he'll be taking you to dinner after your exams.

He's been hanging around you almost every day since he cooked lunch at your place, making good on his words to you where the status of your relationship was involved. He would either come see you in the morning before he went to work or meet you at night for a quick drink at Maki's pub. At times, he'd be dropping by at your school during his breaks. And on the previous weekend, he came over, satisfying himself by sitting quietly on the couch with you leaning against his chest while you studied, even going through lengths of helping you out. At some point, you gave up cause he was distracting you, telling you about his plans while playing with your hair.

"You're gonna cook for me," you assumed.

"No. I'm taking you to that fancy restaurant in town."

You agreed without protests even when he refused after you suggested to split the bill knowing how expensive the place could be. You didn’t want him to think you were mooching off him just because he was older and you’re a broke university student. He seemed excited about the whole thing, so you didn't argue further.

Just then, you heard the sound of a car stopping in front of the house, and you made your way to the door despite Ieiri's tirade about you supposedly making the man walk to your door and ringing the bell, probably make him wait, too. Knowing Sukuna, he'll do just that but you didn't want them to pull their antics while that cliché scene by the doorstep unfolded. But she beat you to it, running a lot faster than you to open the door when you were halfway through the short hallway. Just as you were afraid of, Satoru and Suguru were also standing at the other end of the hallway.

"Guys!" you growled.

"We just wanna see you off," Suguru whined just as Ieiri said, "Hi, Howard."

"Hi," Sukuna returned the greeting, even waving at the boys behind you, looking debonair in a smart-casual charcoal grey ensemble over black, collarless button-downs.

Your annoyance died down at the sight of him and you felt yourself melting when your eyes finally met and he beamed brightly as he took in your appearance, looking like he was seeing color for the first time.

"Ready?" he asked and you nodded, stepping around Ieiri. "We're going" you told your friends, shooting them all warning looks before breaking into a nervous smile anyway as Sukuna led you away.

He opened the door to the passenger side of his... "Where's your Jeep?" you asked him, noticing the matte black sports car for the first time.

"At home," he told you. "I thought I'd switch it up for the occasion."

You shook your head as you climbed in, not really expecting him to go to that extent. You appreciated it but you weren't really high maintenance nor did you want the finer things. "So you just happened to have a Porsche 911 lying around?" you asked him when he finally made it to the driver's seat.

He nodded innocently. "I got it on a whim last year, but I decided it's too flashy so I had it stored at an exclusive garage and only took it out whenever I felt like it. I think this is a good time to take it for a spin."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He reached out to caress your cheek. "You're a vision, by the way."

You felt heat suffuse your cheeks at his gentle touch, but you held his hand in place as you faced him. "I could say the same for you."

"I always wear suits though," he said.

"Well, you're much too impatient with your blazers and you get rid of them when we meet," you began, "And you don't wear those for me."

He flashed you a cheeky grin. "Oh, so you want your men to dress for you?"

"Man, Sukuna. Singular."

It was his turn to blush. "I'm the only one, huh?"

You tilted your head to the side, smirking. "You wanna add someone else into the mix? I didn’t know you were into that."

He was flustered. "No?"

"If you have an exact replica, I wouldn't mind."

Sukuna burst out laughing. "You're crazy."

"It's your fault for hijacking my brain all the time."

Dinner had been great with the both of you pretty much making fun of the numerous silverware before you and making up stories of the haughty guests who came into the same fancy restaurant, some of whom were looking towards your direction.

"That one's a trophy wife," you told him, furtively glancing at the couple that entered. "She's all iced up but look at how her husband is interacting with the waitress."

"You can tell just by that?" he asked.

"I'm guessing they're regulars here and the waitress is one of those he is having an extramarital affair with just judging by the way she looked at him and how she's being all cozy with him." You chuckled. "Ah, now Mrs. X is unhappy. Pretty and bejeweled but very unhappy."

"What about that man there?" He mimicked the way you looked at the couple earlier, this time referring to that one by the glass walls at the corner.

"Oh that one? He's that demanding type who only wants to sit on his usual spot. He's hypochondriac. He's been wiping all the silverware."

Sukuna was obviously amused. "You observe people like this all the time?"

"I aspire to be a novelist if not a literature professor. I watch people to come up with stories, so it doesn't always mean what I'm saying about them is true. I just make it up as I go." You laughed. "But Suguru is a better writer than I am."

"Is he now?"

You nodded, eyes scanning the area. "That old lady is a rich widow who is keeping tradition alive."

He followed your line of vision. "Because she's wearing traditional garb?"

You shook your head. "Because she is alone with that sorrowful look on her face, and she has an extra serving of a meal across her which had been untouched since she ordered in. She's on a date with her dead husband. The empty seat is for him. It's their anniversary." You cocked your head towards the empty chair. "She placed that blazer on the backrest which is obviously not hers, and she just opened a wrapped-up present and made a show of presenting it to whoever should be seated there. Looked like men’s watch to me."

That same old woman stood by your table later in the evening to say, "You are a lovely couple. Cherish each other." And she also paid for a bottle of expensive wine which Sukuna asked to be wrapped for the two of you to take home.

"Looks like you're right about that one," he said as he drove you back to his place.

You nodded, smiling to yourself. "She was right, too," you murmured.

He blinked then looked at you. "Did you say something?"

"Nope."

If you were impressed with the Porsche, his place was even more amazing. The whole place was in scales of black, white and gray but nothing was monotonous about the space. He toured you around the house and it looked uninhabited if it weren't for the signs of life around. But what caught your eye was the shelf full of music, all in vinyl with his gramophone plugged in to a modern sound system. He liked old stuff, his collection ranging from 1903s music to more modern ones here and there.

His living room was strategically placed by the glass walls, providing a view of the cityscape where you found yourself standing, in awe of the sights before you. Just then, the familiar bars of Ben E. King's "Stand by Me" started playing in the background.

You were about to whirl around, but you felt him behind you, wrapping his arm around you as he made you face him. He extended a hand towards you then. You took it without hesitation although you didn't know what he was up to, surprised when he placed your arms on his shoulder while he held onto your waist.

"Dance with me," he said in a low tone as he pulled you closer.

You giggled at that, letting him slowly sway you to the beat while you just looked up at him, drowning in his eyes, his warmth and everything that was him. "I love this song."

He arched a brow at you. "You know Ben E. King?"

"I grew up listening to old music," you told him, nodding as you smiled fondly. "The perks of being a grandpa's girl. You get exposed to great music."

"The movie is my favorite, too."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

He threw his head back in mock annoyance. "Let me guess. It's your favorite, too?"

"Yes!" you squealed excitedly.

Sukuna clucked his tongue. "You make it hard for me to resist you when you have great music and movie tastes, too."

You looked away, swearing you were beet red now. You playfully smacked him on the chest. "Don't say things like that with a straight face."

His laughter reverberated on his chest when you leaned your forehead against it, hiding your face from him. "Now, you're getting all shy around me?" he teased.

"Shut up," you mumbled, pouting at him but having a hard time as you fought the smile that played at the corners of your mouth.

"Seriously though, Y/N, you don't run out of surprises for me." He leaned his forehead against yours. "Every time, you put something new on the list of things I like about you."

"You have a list?"

He nodded. "It's getting hard to keep up with how long it has become."

"Where does it begin?" you asked out of curiosity.

He raised a hand, his finger tracing the point between your eyebrows. "Your brows furrow just around here when you're concentrating. Just like that time I met you at Maki's."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "It's impressive how you're caught in a world of your own even in such a busy, crowded place."

"I’m just good at ignoring people. But stopped reading the moment you sat beside me." You snickered. "You make it hard to focus, it's an insult to the author when her characters are all beyond just interesting."

"How was I even distracting you? You weren’t even looking at me."

"That's what you thought." You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's your hair at first, but then you also smelled too good to be true. That did it for me. And before I knew it, every word on the page I was reading became Cyrillic or something."

You didn't even realize that you've both come to a standstill, chuckling as you met his gaze again, only to feel his hand sliding behind your head, his fingers tangling with your hair as he dipped down and seized your lips, tilting his head slightly. It was a gentle kiss, his skilled lips light on yours, introducing his rhythm and flavor of mint mixed with the faint flavor of the wine you've both been drinking as you moved in sync with him.

It drove you crazy how his scent and taste filled every crevice of your being, desensitizing you while also pushing your senses on overdrive at the same time. The feel of his large hands as they secured you to him while his mouth did all the magic made your blood grow hot, the rush you felt inside consuming you. You visibly wobbled when he let go of you, making him look at you in amusement.

"Stay the night?" he asked, breaking into a grin. "I have a copy of our favorite movie. We can finish the wine that kind old lady gave us, and I'll make you pizza."

"You had me at our favorite movie," you said, still a bit dazed and drunk from the taste of him. "I'll stay."

Sukuna stood at the foot of his bed as he neatly placed everything you might need on it, running out of his unit to get stuff for you at the nearby convenience store. He glanced over at the door of the adjoining shower, smiling when he heard you humming. Well, he couldn't stop smiling all night seeing how beautiful you were in that black dress. He marveled at how you managed to be even more gorgeous when you were already driving him insane even when you wore sweats to school.

He found beauty in every little thing you did, feeling himself being overwhelmed with amazement even when you were just sitting there reading to how you spoke eloquently about things you were passionate about, the way you told the stories you made up despite how they leaned towards sad things. He found it attractive how you lacked complications and always gave him your honest opinions, how you tell him what was going on inside your mind without bars held.

He loved how kind and loving you are to your friends. It wasn't outward affection but he did notice the small things you did. How one word – "breathe" – would calm Satoru down, how one reassuring squeeze of the hand would pacify Ieiri and how a single look would convey your thoughts to Suguru. He would be jealous of it given any other circumstances, but you did so much more for him by just smiling and cheering him up when you sensed how tired he was from work which was often.

You were sensitive like that, appeared stronger and more resilient than you looked, but he and your friends couldn't help it but dote on you. It was kinda funny how they all referred to you as their daughter at first but when he found out they were doing that because they're the only family you had, he understood why. He understood why you tended to look at things the way you did. It only strengthened his urge to take care of you and protect you at all costs.

“Don’t give me that look,” you’ve told him then when he found out your grandfather, your only guardian and family, passed away three years ago, and you’ve only been living on the small fortune he bequeathed to you upon his death. Your parents were long dead, too, and you were basically alone in life.

He found it amazing that you could talk about the matter without being uncomfortable when he couldn’t even imagine how his life would be if he lost his mother at his age. He understood your independent nature, how you would give him funny looks whenever he volunteered to do something for you and why you were always so insistent on splitting the bill when you went out.

Still, when you said you didn't date steadily, it got him worried. Apart from the possibility that you might not stay with him for as long as he imagined – which made him afraid to breathe at times – he thought you might have issues from being alone too much; that maybe, the reason why you didn’t want to commit was because you didn’t want to open up only to be left alone again when things don’t work out. The way you spoke about the old woman at the restaurant and the way sadness crossed your features as you told him the story you’ve just made up sort of solidified his notions.

That’s exactly the reason why he was happy you weren’t pushing him away or refusing to stay with him. When you said you’ll stay the night, although he found joy in all the times you’ve been around him, he still felt unbelievably happy. Perhaps you were giving him a chance, giving whatever it is that’s between you the opportunity to blossom and just going with wherever and whatever it brings you. He liked that thought.

You came out of his room just as he was taking out the pizza he made, dressed in that oversized, white shirt he brought out for you, the collar askew on your shoulders. You walked into the kitchen running a towel on your hair, leaning on the counter. He almost dropped the pizza when he saw that you’ve forgone the sweats he’d given you, your legs bare from halfway down your thighs.

“I gave you pants, you know.”

You laughed at his words. “They’re too big for me. I returned them in your closet.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be finished here in a bit.”

You did as you were told, much to his relief but still went to the extent of getting you a blanket in case you wanted to cover up, not that he minded looking at your legs. Nevertheless, he preferred not to with all the thoughts running amok in his head. He wanted to take things slow with you even if you were proving to be his kryptonite. You thanked him for it, happily munching on the pizza he made as the movie started.

“I can’t believe that woman gave us this expensive wine,” you said as you took a sip from your glass.

“I can’t believe we’re having pizza with it,” he said as he sat at the other end of the couch. The two of you laughed at that, but then he stopped when you did, noticing how you were looking at him with a confused look on your face. “What is it?”

“Why are sitting so far away from me?” you demanded, but instead of him moving towards you, you crawled on the sofa closer to him.

Sukuna reveled in how naturally you took his arm and placed it on your shoulder, leaning against him before adjusting your position and covering the two of you with the blanket. He was glad your guard was down where he was concerned, the fact that you smelled like his shampoo and were wearing his clothes making him all warm and fuzzy inside. He pulled you closer to him, eyes trained on his massive flat screen.

“Sukuna…” you said a few moments later.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re too stiff.” You looked up at him, snickering. “I won’t steal your virtue if that’s what you’re scared of.”

He just laughed but it was taking everything he had in him not to do anything when you were tempting him in the most sinful ways, but he forgot all about that when your head lolled against his chest and found you sound asleep. You looked so serene that instead of taking you to bed, he sat there, cradling your form until the movie finished, his fingers playing with your hair.

Sukuna looked down at you, feeling like his chest was about to explode as he breathed in, realizing the depth of how much he felt for you, and although you couldn’t hear it, he said, “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

***

The crisp morning air blew past the open balcony doors, into the bedroom, rustling the white sheets on his bed that momentarily served as the sanctuary of a tangle of limbs and blankets, cradled by the softness of the mattress and feather-filled pillows. Even breaths rose and fell in sync, filling the wide room. Languid fingers twined with the silkiness of long locks of hair and smooth, bare skin. The bed creaks and Sukuna’s eyes open to the brightness of daylight.

He took in his surroundings, and the first thing he noticed was the pressure on his leg, his left arm just by his shoulder and his chest along with the warmth that was coming from his side. His eyes wandered down to his body to the sheets barely reaching his waist, until finally he found the source of it all.

On his left side was none other than you, pressed to his side with no quantifiable distance separating your bodies but the measly fabric of the shirt you wore. Your hair fell on the pillows and his shoulder which was cushioning your head, your leg crooked across his thighs while your hand lay on his chest in a stagnant caress that suddenly made his whole body burn from the inside. Peering down, he noticed how your brows knit together in an unconscious frown while your thick lashes cast shadows below your closed eyes. Your long, lean legs were exposed to him up to your milky thighs as his shirt which you were wearing rode up, and he could only pray that you won’t move that limb any further or else…

Cursing at himself, he diverted his gaze and realized how his left hand had been running up and down your back. The feel of your warmth against the pads of his fingers sent him to the edge while your scent intoxicated him until he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He knew he was being shallow, but he couldn’t help it either. He was still human. Still, a smile made its way across his mouth. He was only able to think of the moment and how he wished to wake up to it every single morning of his existence. He decided to stay still and hold onto it while it lasted.

“Why are you so pretty?” he whispered, then pulled you closer while he closed his eyes, meaning to go back to sleep, but it wasn’t long before he felt you stir against him, your leg moving upwards. In the process, said limb swept higher, touching that particular spot between his legs. The weight of your leg didn’t help with the carnal thoughts that were already running amok in his mind.

You suddenly moved, groaning as you shifted, the drawn-out sound doing things to him.

Sukuna’s eyes remained shut, fearing what might come next after you discover the compromising position you were in, but it didn’t come. Instead, you just very slightly distanced yourself from him, remaining within reach, but he was startled when he suddenly felt cold fingers brush across the skin just below his lower lip.

“If I were an artists, I would have painted you,” you said quietly while your fingers travelled lower. “Just look at that jaw line.”

Sukuna felt himself shiver when your other hand began working its way from his collarbones, going all the way down to where his chiseled stomach was. The titillating sensation filled his brain and before he knew it, his eyes were half open while his hand had already grabbed you by the wrist. His other arm worked to topple you over, back to the comfort of the pillows, while he rolled on top of you, staying still while completely rendering you motionless by pinning your arm down.

The reverberation of your chest against his whilst you chuckled albeit his weight sent him to the edge, almost falling off, but he held still and stopped himself from doing anything.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whispered, tapping his back slightly.

He wondered whether you liked being there with him, too, or what. “L/N Y/N…What’s with the formality?” What, indeed? The two of you were in a very intimate position and yet he addressed you that way, sounding agonized even to himself. “Don’t do that.”

You scoffed good-naturedly. “Am I giving you strange feelings?” you questioned, ridiculing him early in the morning. “I knew you were pretending to be asleep. Men just can’t say no to a woman’s touch, huh?”

He supported his weight with his arm and drew himself up, the rest of his weight pushing down lower against you. He smirked then. “So you were also awake.”

“Yeah.”

“And you let me hold you anyway?” he murmured, his face almost closing in on yours.

You ignored the tone in which he spoke and its implications. “I was just too lazy to move. Besides, I thought you were a pillow. You’re so warm.”

“That sounds fishy, Y/N.”

“And what’s fishy about that?”

He broke into that crooked grin, feeling his evil streak resurfacing. “Hmm. The fact that you’re liking this as much as I am.”

You removed your hand from his grip and lightly slid it down his inked rib, going lower as you traced the patterns of his tattoo, your eyes remaining on him, a sultry smile swathed across your lips.

A moan nearly escaped his parted mouth, but he wasn’t able to hold back the sudden closing of his eyes and slight parting of his mouth as your hand reached halfway down. “S-stop…”

Your hand stopped where his pelvis was, but your fingers continued to draw circles on his skin. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”

Sukuna panted and nodded at you feeling his hot blood rushing southward.

“Yeah?” You laughed softly, your eyes widening a bit in amusement while your leg kicked faintly underneath him, feeling something stiffen against your thigh. “Something else tells me you don’t,” you purred into his ear.

Sukuna bit his lower lip, peeking at you through half-lidded eyes. He knew you felt that and he was getting embarrassed with every second he stayed there. He knew your effect on him and you were more than just aware of it. You were even going to the extent of toying with him, making him feel like a goddamn teenager with raging hormones.

“You’re baiting me,” he played along, brushing your hair off of your neck and twirling the strands with his finger.

You smirked. “Am I?” you said slowly, hand sliding on the garter of his sweats. You withdrew your hand and rolled the two of you over despite his weight, turning tables on him. You touched the tip of his nose, taking in the disappointed look on his face all to your amusement before getting off.

“You’re funny, Sukuna.”

Your leg wasn’t even halfway off of him from where you were sitting astride his torso when Sukuna decided he was going to take his chances with making you succumb to him somehow and he finalized that by stopping you. Grabbing your waist, he rolled you over once more and without second thoughts, dipped his mouth against your, just pecking you on the mouth at first to see what you would do.

Too stunned to react, you were only able to stare at him, but Sukuna didn’t just stop there. He pressed his mouth against your sensuous lips in numerous fleeting touches until he felt you respond to it in the same gentle manner. Those small gestures, along with the closing of your eyes, ignited the fire that had been coursing through him until he thought he would explode if he didn’t comfort himself with the feel of you against him.

Unable to hold back anymore, he crashed your lips together in an urgent, scorching and passionate kiss, nibbling on your lower lip. You responded in kind, possessively holding onto his taut shoulders as he lifted you both in a sitting position so you were kneeling astride his lap. Sukuna pushed his fingers into your hair, holding you against him while his mouth moved downwards to your neck, seductively biting on your collarbone, marking his trail of fire up the columns of your throat before returning to your mouth.

Opposite to his aim to escalate the heat and passion, you placed both of your hands on either side of his head, cupping his cheeks with gentle hands and pulled away slightly, still with your foreheads against each other, hands intact on his shoulders and your waist, both panting for air.

You flashed him an apologetic smile, swallowing hard as you pulled back and sat down on the bed, looking down at your hands which you were wringing. Silence fell over the room and when you came to your senses again, you met his gaze.

His eyes rounded at the realization of what he just did. “I’m sorry, I don’t what came over me.”

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “Sukuna, I…I shouldn’t have…”

He smiled at you then and pulled you close, giving you a soft peck on the forehead, eventually taking you into his arms, soothing your back as he embraced you. “That’s not it, sweetheart. I can’t keep my hands to myself even when you’re not doing anything.”

“I’m sorry…”

He looked at you at arm’s length. “Don’t be.” You diverted your gaze, but Sukuna lifted your head with a finger, making you look at him, holding you in his gaze “I’m willing to take it slow if that’s what makes you comfortable.”

“Look, I just want to be sure about how I feel. I don’t want to be doing this half-baked because I don’t want to hurt you –”

He placed a finger against your lips, still raw from his kisses. He didn’t want to hear what you had to say just yet but he smiled slowly at you. “I’m willing to give you time, and for now, I just want us to stay like this. Is that okay?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

You found yourselves lying in bed until the sun was high in the sky and it was just too warm to stay there. Endless talks led to teasing which eventually led to laughter. He was glad that you were back to your carefree self again, even happier that you were considering his feelings.

“Should we get something to eat?” you suggested to him.

“Are you hungry?” Sukuna asked.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

Sukuna chuckled. “Starving.” He stood up first and pulled you with him, leading you out of the room with a happy grin on his face. “Let’s make breakfast together?”

“Sure…” You beamed at him. “I’d like that.”

-end of part 2-

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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joheun-saram · 3 years

Text

January Rain (jjk)

word count- 1.5k

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x secretary!Reader

rating- PG

genre- angst, fluff

warnings- none! :)

an- for the cute 🍒anon! I hope you like it!

You looked at the email your boss’s mother had sent you and felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew what you had with Jungkook was too good to last. It was a cliche really, the secretary sleeping with the CEO, but every time he looked at you, it was like you forgot your own name. The way his big doe eyes traced your features right before he devoured you, or the way he called you in his office for some paperwork, when really he just wanted to kiss you silly.

I'm not sure if Jungkook mentioned this to you yet, but can you please check when he is available for his date with Jisoo. Any time from Wed to Fri would work.

As you reread the email asking you to set a time for a date with his fiancee, you knew starting something with the handsome man across from you was a mistake. You would never be able to call him yours, never be able to hold his hand in public, and the thought made your eyes sting. Looking through his calendar, you did your job, quietly resolving to no longer fall for his charms. There was a reason he made the number of deals that he did, he was great at getting his way, but that would no longer be the case with you.

It was when you added the event in his calendar that he called your name. He was settled behind a large desk, the dark oak a contrast to the light cedar of the cabin. He had rented the chalet for the weekend, wanting a getaway to work on the new expansion proposal for the board. It was an added bonus that the large cottage came with a room with a king-sized bed and a hot tub on the back patio. Initially, you were looking forward to spending the weekend tangled up in the sheets with your boss, but the sound of your name on his lips just irritated you now.

He called you twice before you graced him with a glance in his direction.

"Why did you send me this?" He asked, eyes narrowed in your direction and jaw set. He seemed annoyed. Good.

"Your mother emailed me. I'm just doing my job," you replied with a huff, rolling your eyes at his demeanor as he sighed.

"Come here, baby." Jungkook spoke softly as he rolled his chair away from his desk, tapping his lap in an invitation. An invitation you would've jumped at a mere twenty minutes ago, but now it just caused frustration and hurt to bloom in your chest.

"I'm sorry. I think that would be unprofessional, sir." You remained straight-faced, averting your eyes towards your laptop as you continued to work through his emails and schedule for the week. He scoffed, turning to his true-tried method of humour to lighten the mood.

“Come on. I dare you.” He smirked, moving around his desk to lean against it, arms open, expecting you to grumble but make your way to him as usual. But you avoided looking at him, your full attention on your work, as you tried to pretend he wasn’t even in the room. In the attempt to shield your feelings, you missed the look of hurt that clouded his features as he lost his earlier confidence and fidgeted with the many documents strewn across his desk.

"Baby, look at me. Please?" Jungkook pleaded, the pout on his face evident through his voice. You couldn't look at him even if you tried, you knew the effect he had on you. It was the same adorable pout that had made you give him your heart the first time he aimed it at you. It was your kryptonite. The way he would be extremely polite and professional to all your colleagues but turn into a puppy whenever the two of you were alone. It was something that made you want him more, deluded you into thinking that he was only this open in front of you. But clearly, his change in character wasn't as special as you thought.

Ignoring his request, you swiftly stood from your seat on the couch, walking firmly to the main door into the cold rain outside. The freezing raindrops pelted your skin, making goosebumps rise in their wake as your teeth chattered. Although you had forgotten your coat in your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you didn't regret it one bit. You welcomed the chill, letting it cool you to the bone as you walked away from the fancy chalet. You didn't care that you would inevitably have to go inside in a few minutes and that you would also probably get a headache from the way the almost frozen droplets pelted your head.

Before you could walk too long though, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle you, the warmth of a firm chest molding to your back like a comfortable blanket.

"You're going to get sick," Jungkook murmured in your ear, his grip tight around your waist, as you tried not to give into him yet again.

"Stop worrying about me. You have Jisoo." You tried to push him off you, but his strength outmatched you by miles as he clung to your back, the two of you drenched and shivering.

"I don't want Jisoo. I want you." He whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. His words sent the butterflies in your belly a flutter, but your brain refused to let them win. You shoved him off you, turning around to stare at him.

His hair was in his eyes, the black curls obstructing his eyes, as he shook his head to see you clearer. He was drenched, his white shirt almost invisible, highlighting the contours of his body. He moved closer, rubbing his hands on your arms in an attempt to warm you up, but despite the way he looked at you softly, you shrugged him off once again.

"So what? You're gonna break off your engagement and run away with me?" you questioned, arms folded as your gaze hardened.

"Absolutely." There was no hint of hesitation in his eyes, and his determination broke down your defenses. Before you knew it you were staring at the ground, willing the tears to go away. You were never more thankful to have the rain soaking you through.

"Don't do this to me. I can't take this anymore," you spoke quietly, unsure if he could even hear you.

"Do what? I told you I don't want her. I want you." Jungkook held your arms, bending a little to make the eye contact you were so adamant in avoiding.

"But your mom -" Jungkook scoffed, cutting you off. His hands cupped your face as he tried to pour as much of his feelings through his gaze as he could, his warm chocolate eyes entrancing you like they always did.

"Do you think I care? I did my part, took over the company like a good little boy. I'm not going to let her control me anymore." His gaze hardened as he spoke and it reminded you of your resolve. Even though he was determined right now, you knew Jungkook. Knew that he would always pick his mom over anyone else, knew that he would never want to disappoint her. And above all, you knew that she would never accept you.

"Jungkook, I think it's best if we end this." And although your words spoke differently, you moved closer to him, your hands over his arms as you held on like he would let go.

"No. How can it be best if I can't be with the woman I love?" His forehead met yours as he confessed and your heart felt like it could explode. In the year you had been part of this fling, he had never told you he loved you. Jungkook wasn’t one for words, he would instead buy you extravagant gifts and take you travelling. You had always hoped he felt what you did but you never thought you’d hear those words escape his lips.

"Love?" you asked in a daze, your resolve falling like crumbs to the wayside. Jungkook smiled at your confusion as if it was the most endearing thing in the world. His nose scrunched a little as it grazed yours and he giggled.

"I love you."

You couldn’t stop yourself from crashing your lips to his. How could you, when the man you had been in love with for years finally spoke like he had in your dreams. His kiss warmed you up, making you forget about the rain still pelting from above and the chill in your bones. His arms encircled your waist once again, pulling you close, chest to chest, as yours found home around his neck. Kissing him was so easy, it was like your body was finally at peace in his arms.

"Tell me you love me too. Please?" He pleaded when you finally broke for air and the uncertainty in his voice made you want to do anything in your power to assure him.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." You kissed him with every confession, your heart finally being allowed to pour through your actions.

You didn’t remember how long the two of you stood kissing in the cold January rain, but it was worth the stuffy noses and headaches that plagued you both for a week afterward.

Like this? Check out my other works.

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #btsnoonanet #thetruthuntoldnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook angst #jk fluff #jk angst #jk x reader #bts imagines #bts drabbles

287 notes · View notes

ruzek-halstead · 3 years

Text

meet me in the afterglow: first date

request from @felicitysmoaksx: i would like to see a continuation of the “i’m so stressed out during finals that i show up to the exam in my onesie and you tell me i look cute” university au. maybe like their first date?

read the original fic here

Luke and Julie ended up at a 24-hour diner a few minutes off campus. There was a light wind blowing through Julie's curls, and she was glad her onesie was so warm and fuzzy. Luke seemed perfectly at ease in his sleeve tank, but then again, she could feel his warm skin every time her wrist knocked against his arm. Her hand was still loosely clasped in his. She expected it to be slightly awkward; she had just met Luke and this was unlike anything she had ever done before. In her past four years of studies, she didn't have much time for a social life, much less a boyfriend. But there was no way she could've turned down his invite after the entirety of the situation.

When they reached the exterior of the diner, Julie spotted various empty booths. There were a few students who were quite obviously studying, what with their textbooks and highlighters strewn around the table, but it was generally quite empty. Even though it was relatively empty, Julie was still hit with a wave of anxiety with being seen in this onesie by everyone in the diner. It was dumb, she knew that; she had completed her exam in front of people with this onesie and even walked across campus with it. But for some reason, she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling. When Luke moved forward to open the door, he stumbled back and realized Julie had stopped walking. Their intertwined hands pulled him to a stop. He noticed Julie's worried eyes and moved closer, ducking his own head to catch her gaze. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" God, Julie wanted to scream. This is not how their first date was supposed to be going. "This is going to sound weird," Julie laughed nervously. "But I'm feeling super self-conscious about this onesie right about now." Luke's facial features softened, and he stepped even closer. He let go of her hand to bring it up close to her face; Julie's breath hitched and he stopped his movements. "Julie, believe me when I say this, you look stunning in that onesie. Honestly, I’m too distracted with your beauty to even notice anymore.” Her brain was short-circuiting and no words were coming to mind. His green gaze was so captivating, she couldn't look away. But they were standing outside the diner and she had to do something. His hand that stopped mid-air dropped back down, outlining her arm through the onesie to intertwine their pinkies. Julie felt her knees begin to shake. She swallowed hard. “Well, I am pretty hungry.” That was the most her incapacitated brain could come up with currently, but the comment sent a brightening smile to Luke’s lips. “Great,” he added, once again pulling open the front door. Julie took a deep breath to regain her confidence. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought; it only mattered how she felt. And if she was being honest, she felt pretty damn good after hearing what Luke had to say. There was a sign at the front saying ‘seat yourself’ so Julie slid into a widow booth. Luke slid in across from her, his vibrant smile still on full display. It had been quite some time since Julie went on a first date. It was also pretty obvious that she was out of her element, but Luke seemed perfectly okay with taking the lead. “So, what’s your major, Julie?” He waited until their waitress came over to hand them menus and bring two glasses of water to ask his question. He was casually perusing the menu, but inside, he was dying to know more about this mysterious girl. “You mentioned something about an Evidence course?” Julie glanced up from her menu with a soft smile. She hadn't really gotten a chance to celebrate the fact that she was officially finished her major, (however, she couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than a date with an incredibly cute and caring guy). "I was in Criminology. That was my last exam ever, actually." Luke's eyes widened comically, a large grin spreading over his face. "Congratulations, that's amazing!" He cheered, reaching over to softly squeeze her wrist. "Wow, I should be taking you out to a five course meal — not this." Julie's eyes snapped up to meet his. He was grinning and he looked confident, but Julie could see the underlying insecurity beneath. It was intriguing to see, given how comfortable he had been since they'd met. "This is perfect," she replied evenly, meeting his eye with assurance. Luke matched her smile. The waitress came back to take their order, smiling knowingly at the adorable couple. Luke ordered a chocolate milkshake with a cheeseburger and fries, while Julie also ordered a chocolate milkshake and a chicken caesar wrap with sweet potato fries. “Perfect. I’ll put that order in right away and it’ll be out soon,” their waitress assured them with a bright smile. “What about you?” Julie asked, straw between her lips. She didn’t miss the way Luke’s eyes flickered down for a nanosecond; it gave her all the confidence in the world. “Your major?” Luke took a moment longer to reply (yes, he was composing himself, what about it?). “I’m actually a music major.” Julie’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, really?” “Yeah. I was just taking that course as a filler,” he explained. “That was my final exam too.” Julie’s face lit up in excitement. “Doesn’t it feel great?” “Unbelievable,” he chuckled. “A little scary because what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Julie’s smile dimmed a bit. She was in the same boat and she had been avoiding thinking about it for as long as possible. However, she was still young and there was always the possibility of going back to school (although, her current outfit and mental stability would argue against that). “But we’re not going to think about that right now,” she replied with a coy smile. Luke opened his mouth to rebut, but he was instead distracted by the mouthwatering scent of their food arriving. He was mesmerized, but Julie was straight up emotional about it; she truly thought she might cry. “Oh God,” she mumbled, her senses completely overloaded. “It’s been so long since I’ve had proper food. Does coffee count as a food?” Luke was already shoving fries into his mouth. “Definitely not,” he replied through a full mouth. It definitely wasn’t first date etiquette but Julie was so hungry, she couldn’t be bothered to notice. Not that she cared anyway, she was quickly gnawing down her wrap, nearly forgetting to breathe. Once Julie was satisfied that her hunger was appropriately satiated and she could finally multi-task again, she took a sip of her milkshake and turned her attention to Luke once again. “So, music. How’d you get into it?” Luke was momentarily surprised at the question, but he was more than happy to speak about it. Music was everything to him; he could talk about it all day. “Honestly, it kind of just happened. A cousin of mine used to have a guitar and we taught ourselves to play.” “Are you any good?” Julie meant it to come out teasingly, but it really ended up sounding more flirty than anything. “Maybe you should find out.” Luke very easily matched her tone and Julie found herself sweating before him. “How do you propose I do that?” Well, she may as well continue with the ruse. She had leaned forward in the booth, resting her chin in her hand. “Lucky for you, I have a band.” Julie’s brain immediately stopped all function. He was attractive, he had amazing biceps, he was sweet and respectable and he was in a band? “You — you’re in a band?” Julie cringed at the obvious fumble in her words. He can’t just drop that on her and expect her to be okay though. An unconscious smile spread across his features. “My best friends and I are in a band. We try to play gigs whenever we can; you know, exposure.” “Oh — you play gigs,” Julie swallowed. God, her throat was dry. “Does that mean you have original songs?” Luke nodded again; he looked so excited. “My band calls me the Shakespeare of songwriting. Can’t help myself.” Julie’s brain started screaming at her again: HE WRITES SONGS. Julie grabbed her glass of water and drained it halfway. “That’s awesome. Uh — so, are you the guitarist?” “Lead guitarist,” he smirked with pride. “I’m also the lead singer.” Julie squeezed her water glass so tight, her knuckles turned white. Luke’s eyes dropped to her hand and his smirk only widened. He was full-on torturing her now and he knew it. “How the hell are you even real?” Julie was never known for her subtlety. Luke should know that by now since she basically went off on him in the exam room already anyway. He wasn’t, however, expecting that random question. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but Julie didn’t elaborate. Instead, she seemed to be almost glaring at him. He laughed, a hint of nervousness in his tone. “Excuse me?” “You’re a guitar player in a band, you write songs and you sing them. You’re ridiculously sweet and kind and I haven’t seen any red flags yet, which is literally unbelievable nowadays. You’re somehow interested in me and you’re ridiculously hot. There must be something else going on here because there is no way in hell that this is real.” Luke could only blink at her. He took a moment to mull over his next words before he relayed them with a frown. “If you’re impressed by my kindness, which should just be basic human behaviour, then men clearly need to do better.” Julie bit her lip as she sighed. “Sorry. That was a lot. I just mean—” Luke interrupted. “You seem to be really surprised that someone like me could be interested in you and I just don’t understand,” he explained, brows furrowed together. “What you and I see is clearly different. I see someone intelligent and dedicated enough to her studies to block out everything else and get it done. I see someone beautiful, no matter what they're wearing. I see someone who doesn't think as highly of themselves as they should because I've only known you a few hours and that's enough for me to know that I want you in my life." Now it was Julie's turn to blink. "Sorry," Luke popped out a smirk, "That was a lot." "Listen," Julie breathed, openly avoiding eye contact as she started her explanation. "I'm not, nor have I ever been, that successful in the dating department. This," she motioned between her and Luke, "Has never happened to me before and I'm not entirely sure how to handle it. So, I'm sorry if I'm butchering this." Luke instantly reached forward to grab her hand. "You're not." "Are you sure?" She laughed nervously. "I've given you more than one reason tonight to think I'm certifiably insane." Luke looked up from their conjoined hands with an earnest smile. "I hate to break it to you, but it's going to take a lot more than that to drive me away." Julie considered it for a moment. "You know what, I'm okay with that." "Good," he laughed. He stood up from the booth. "I'll be right back." Julie took this opportunity to momentarily reflect. In the span of twenty-four hours, she had gone through a range of emotions like something she'd never experienced before. But she had successfully completed her exams, and thus, completed her major. She could now take a break from school and decide how she wanted to proceed. Somehow the worst week of her life ended up as one of the best. Luke returned a few moments lately, shoving his wallet back into his back pocket. "Alright, we're all squared away. You ready to go?" Julie nodded with a smile, easily following him outside. "Thanks for the meal, Luke. I needed it." "Of course." He was unable to lose the grin from his face. "Hey, is it alright if I get your number?" Julie almost tripped over herself in taking out her cellphone from the pocket of her onesie. They exchanged phone numbers with a smile. "I live just around the corner over there," Julie motioned with her index finger. "But tonight was great, and I had a lot of fun." Luke's eyebrows furrowed together. "Oh, that's great. But I'm walking you home." "You don't need to do that," she replied automatically. "I want to." Well, Julie couldn't dispute that. Luke once again reached for her hand and Julie led the way. She knew it would be an exceptionally short walk, but he kept the conversation going for all of it. It felt like he couldn't get enough of talking to her and it seriously made Julie's heart squeeze with affection. When they reached the doorstep of Julie's building, she turned to him with nervous eyes. "I would love to take you out again," Luke murmured quietly. The energy around them had suddenly changed and Julie was hyper aware of his thumb stroking her palm. "I would love to see your band," she replied, because honestly, she still hadn't gotten that image out of her head. An immediate grin broke out on Luke's face. "Then it's decided," his eyes softened once again as he took a step down. "Get some sleep, Julie. Celebrate your achievements by forty-seven hours of sleep." "You know what?" Julie threw her head back in a laugh. "I think I just might." His eyes were sparkling as he observed her laughing. It was the best sight he'd seen in ages. Julie could see his hesitation and decided he'd done enough already (especially through her multiple freak-outs over the course of the day). With his small step down, he was finally at her height. She took a small step forward and pulled him closer with a soft hand of the back of his neck. She met his wide eyes as she moved closer and pulled a smile as she pressed her lips dangerously close to his lips. She kept her hand where it was and only moved back to glance in his eyes. His own hand slid behind her back and she savoured every moment of his touch. No words were needed. All they needed was the mere presence of each other. Julie finally pulled away, throwing a shy smile in his direction. "Goodnight, Luke." He was grinning the widest she'd seen since they met. "Goodnight, Julie."

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #juke fics #jatp fics #juke au #jatp au #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke #luke x julie

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years

Text

who in svt would agree to platonically kiss you

maybe you're a writer and would want to know how it feels to have peppered swipes of love gently sprinkling your face for the piece you're trying to write. or maybe you're trying to fake having a boyfriend to get your ex off your ass. or maybe you're just weird and/or read too much fanfiction and hope for your own 100k f2l love story with your best friend. whatever your dumb reason is, here's a list of who will agree, who will smack you upside in the face, and who will permanently delete you from his contacts!! let's find out!!

seungcheol: dude he'd agree to (platonically) marry you in order to get your nosy relatives off your ass for being single for so long. just give him a signal and he'd be ready to make out in the middle of a bunch of greasy bodies in a club just to get some weirdo to fuck off because duh?? that's what friends do?? right??? | rating: 9/10 minus one point simply because he'd probably fall in love with you and that would ruin the platonic bit.

jeonghan: "about time you gave in, babe ;))" a little shit. would tease you relentlessly about your apparent, subconscious desire to punch him for him. angel is all talk though, because once you're already inches away from him, he'd panic and chicken out because holy fuck ahaha this shouldn't happen. pulls away from you last minute. would tell you your breath stank of cilantro as a cover up | rating: 3/10 he's a fucking loser don't even try.

joshua: he'd laugh, crinkling his nose and say wow that would be wild haha, but proceed to ignore you. he may have turned into the bare-armed, testosterone monster that he is now, but joshua still wouldn't want to kiss anyone he isn't in a relationship with. that's what his mother taught him and he isn't gonna disobey her cause of you. maybe try asking him out first <33 | rating: 1/10 the one is there because wow you might get him as your boyfriend.

junhui: sorry, but jun would ask you first. you'd be sitting in his living room, watching netflix at god knows what the fuck am and he'd be like "hey. movie's boring. wanna make out?" and you'd be like sure until all of a sudden oops you're not only platonically kissing anymore wow what a slip up | rating: 10/10 you're both a matchmade in horny heaven.

soonyoung: look. soonyoung is wild. soon is down for anything. soonie will probably stab himself with a fork just because you told him he can't. but that's the thing— he'd only do it if it was a challenge. ask him to kiss you because you've been lying to your friends that you had a boyfriend and they wanted evidence? his cheeks will start flaring. tell him "oh i that's fine. i knew you'd be too much of a pussy to agree" then damn you've just unleashed the tiger | rating: 6/10 because of the extra effort you have to put in.

wonwoo: jeon is a simple man. he is a classy man. a simple "no" without even looking at your direction is the only thing you're getting from him. you'd whine, telling him please— i wanna write this story for one of my classes perfectly and the main guy is a nerd and you're the only loser i know. he'd close the book he was reading, leaning into your face ever so slowly, right before smacking the fucking book on your head because wow. the audacity of you | rating: 0/10 but 10/10 if you wanna come back to your senses.

jihoon: what the fuck why would you even consider asking him you evil monster you just wanna watch jihoon shrivel up like a dried grape painted in a fresh coat of red | rating: invalid. error. don't even try unless you want to get guitar smacked when he finally recovers from shock.

minghao: if you were a stranger, yes he'd agree. but you're not. you're his friend and he knows about your gross habits and that's just a no for him like ew. unless you're desperate for whatever the fuck reason. only if you agree to be his poor PA during his monthly, ig outfit photoshoot this weekend and you start to wonder if this is really worth carrying three bags of outfits, one for his accessories, and the amount of muscle pain? thought so | rating: 4/10 if you're crazy and actually go through with it because if he's gonna do it, he's gonna do it right.

mingyu: he'd agree. mingyu is a sweetheart of course he would. the only drawback is that he'd be a huge fucking mess and be like "kiss??? kiss me?? you want?? ahaha o-oh yeah sure totally i'd love to ki— i mEAN since u asked haha" his brain would start whirring like a broken microwave when you do and start thinking is this okay?? do friends do this?? oh my god?? | rating: 7/10 but i doubt he'd even be able to look at you in the eye after this lmao. you got to kiss him but at what cost ://

seokmin: "omg!! sure!!! let's kiss :D" okay, maybe you suggested it because you're a demon and you wanted to see him flustered but oops, seokmin is actually down for it because he is so full of love and would kiss you again if you asked. you're like???? wait i didn't plan it this way, seokmin i— OOPS he already gave you a tiny smooch. he's smiling, asking you if you want another one and smoke is literally emitting from your head rip | rating: 8/10 your brain is fried but at least he's cute.

seungkwan: "excuse me?? you want to kiss me?? know your place, loser" kwan isn't gonna tolerate this kind of troglodytic behavior. you haven't even asked permission from his parents, court him with a million bouquets, chocolates, and vitamins and you're expecting him to agree to kiss you?? wow the sheer shamelessness of some people smh | rating: 2/10 tiny chance that he'd agree if you tell him it was for attention.

vernon: he didn't hear you the first time. second time. wait is this the fifth? until you're literally up at his face asking him for a smooch because you wanted your roommate to believe you actually went out to get laid instead of playing animal crossing at vernon's place because the vibe of his room matched the cozy atmosphere. she would start clowning you if she found out. poor vernon is surprised. frozen. but he manages to stammer out a "sure" and you've already left but vernon was still thinking of you | rating: 6/10 bcs oops haha didn't mean for it to turn angsty

chan: would say yes without giving it much thought until he realized what you were doing and he's like oh shit you were actually serious okay we're doing this. but wait we're in public y/n what the fuck. and you're like shut the fuck up the guy that's been bothering me is here and he's like oh okay. would be embarrassed for the next few days but let's say you got into a petty argument and chan would be like "ooh you wanna kiss me so bad" and you're like "fuck no" and he'd say "you already did" and you're like god damn it | rating: 7/10 because he's gonna use it against you lol.

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readwritejayy · 3 years

Text

The Name of the Minotaur

“So you’re sticking with that. You were out with Sammy Tuesday night?”

“I was.”

You would have liked Sammy. You would have liked reading me and Sammy meeting in 7th grade, when we were the only two not pretending to be horses or hanging out in the dugout by the baseball field during lunch. You would have liked reading me and Sammy sneaking out at 3am to kick rocks down Parks View Lane, sweating in the sticky summer heat, laughing about everything and anything—the way we couldn’t during sleepovers without risking my father’s wrath. You really would have liked reading me and Sammy finally graduating, sharing a dorm at “U of C”, me an Anthropology major and Sammy in Psychology.

But we didn’t graduate. And I have to tell You, instead of letting You meet Sammy Yourself.

“Are you sure you want to go with that? It’s your last chance, kid.” He taps his pen against his yellow notepad. One long grey hair juts out from his bushy eyebrows, catching the light when he looks up.

I pick at the loose skin around my thumbnail to tamper down the urge to pluck it. “I don’t really have a choice, considering it’s what I was doing.”

He sighs, setting his glasses down and rubbing his eyes. His voice sounds weary from repeating the same things over and over. Or maybe that’s just how he sounds, I’ve never heard him anything other than weary from the first time I was ushered into a room like this.

“You know that’s not a great alibi, right? The only person who can corroborate your whereabouts the night your father was killed is reported missing the next day?”

The AC clicks on—the hair dances back and forth.

I breathe: four seconds in, hold for four, five seconds out. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I say, clasping my hands together under the table. “I’ve lost both my father and my best friend, and now I’m being accused of both crimes?”

“Lost? You sound convinced Sam is dead, not just missing.”

Sitting up, I blink. “Well don’t you? I mean, with the shoe on the front porch, and that note Sammy wrote—”

“We still have handwriting analysts looking over the note, but we haven’t confirmed it’s a match for Sam’s writing.” He flipped to another page in his folder. “I just wanted to go over what we’ve got one more time.”

“Because you have no actual evidence I had anything to do with either event.”

He ignores this. “You said you left your house at around 6pm, met up with Sam and stayed out all night until you came back home at 2am, where you found your father beaten and stabbed with a kitchen knife in the living room. Could you walk me through what you and Sam did that kept you out for eight whole hours?”

“We met up at Mixie’s—Sam had a coupon from the football game Saturday, just had to mention we go to Valley High and we’d get a free side of fries—ate outside for about an hour, went to the park, and then just walked around Sam’s neighborhood until I went home.”

“See, now that’s interesting, because we saw you two on surveillance footage across the street from Mixie’s around that time, but that’s it. Nowhere else do you or Sam appear on any footage for the rest of the night.”

I cock my head. “I don’t think they have CCTV at the park, or in a residential neighborhood.”

“And for eight hours? You told Sam’s mother you two would be going to the library.”

“I just said that so she’d let me and Sam hang out. She doesn’t like me, my father didn’t like Sam. To get what I want I lie. A lot.”

He hums. “Sam seemed pretty agitated in the footage, did anything happen between the two of you?”

“I mentioned my father had come home angry, again. Sam was upset.”

“Oh right, the defensive marks around your neck.”

“Yes, except he didn’t make them as I was killing him, like you keep suggesting. It happened when he came home, before I left.” Be glad You’re reading this, You don’t want to see two large handprints around a sixteen year old’s neck.

“It just seems a bit convenient for you to be out for such a long time the same night your father is killed. And for the weapon to be something from your own kitchen.”

“I was out for ‘such a long time’ to avoid going back home, since my father beatme. Maybe someone was waiting for him to be home alone. Maybe someone stopped by. They got to talking with him, didn’t like the things he said or did. Maybe as they sat there, they realized they couldn’t stand his drivel for single second longer and lashed out the way my father was so prone to doing himself.” I clear my throat. “My father angered a lot of people.”

He clicks his pen once, twice, a third time before setting it down. “So all you have is a shaky alibi.”

“That’s true, I don’t have any proof that I didn’t kill my father or do anything to Sammy. But I don’t think I need to. I think you need proof I did kill my father or had anything do to with Sammy’s disappearance.”

“You’re acting pretty antagonistic, aren’t you kid?”

“I’m grieving.” I stand up, shoving the chair out. “If I’m not being arrested, which I’m assuming I’m not or you’d have done it the last time we were here, I’d like to leave.”

He says nothing but doesn’t stop me as I throw open the door. I zone out as I leave, the route to the parking lot already imprinted on my brain. After climbing into my car, I fish out the bracelet from my cupholder. Identical to the one on my wrist except two of the beads are cracked.

You want me to give You more information. You want more clues, more context. You want more because You want to know if You should sympathize with or vilify me.

Well, too bad. You don’t get any more information. This is the end—for You and for me. But to You, it’s just a story; you’ll finish this and walk away, maybe make lunch or go to class or fall asleep. But I can’t escape from this. You’ll find another book, another character to either care about or project onto and then you’ll move on.

I’m stuck in this cycle. So I’ll exercise the only amount of control I have and say:

Am I to be sympathized with, or vilified?

Figure it out.

#hi guys i wrote a #short story #original writing #apologies if the formatting is off i still cant seem to figure out how to make it not look weird

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danicarosaline · 4 years

Text

Green is not a good colour on you ya know?

𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

The anon request: hi your writing is adorable, can i have jj x reader maybe she gets jealous of a new girl that joins the group bc jj is suddenly into the girl? but thats only bc his hiding his true feelings for reader😌 thank yu have a good day✨💕

Warnings: swear words here and there

A/N: so this fic wasn’t suppose to be as long as it is but i was bored and got carried away okay🙄 hope you like it though, its not the best but since its done ill post it anyways!!

Your ears perk up at the sound of an annoying, girlish giggle, making you cringe internally. Even with the heavy feeling in your gut and the tightness of your chest, there is a dainty smile plastered on your face as you turned your body to face Pope and laugh along with whatever he was saying.

It was about 1:30pm, sun shining bright and hot as ever out here in the Outer Banks and JJ had an arm thrown over a pretty brunette you have come to know as Minnie, Sarah’s cousin.

The seven of you are all situated together in a circle on the massive picnic rug you bought for sale the other day and it was surprisingly a cheap sale, despite the quality of its material and sizing. Recalling the groans of the boys when you tossed the heavy thing on top of them and the stunned expressions on Kie and Sarah’s face when they saw the cute blue picnic rug. You smiled at the memory.

It was definitely one of the best purchases you made, fitting all of you on the rug and the group has been using it for beach days ever since.

You turned away from Pope and joined in the conversation that Kie and Sarah were having next to you whilst Pope distracted himself with John B.

The topic was getting interesting and you were about to voice out your opinion when the sudden sound of Minnie’s loud laugh distracted you. Making your eye twitch in irritation. Minnie laughed as JJ began to tickle her.

Sarah noticed your hasty change of demeanour, the sour look on your face was evident, as clear as the sky and it would have made her laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that she saw the usual twinkle in your pretty eyes disappeared when your gaze on JJ and Minnie lingered a tad bit too long, reaking of obvious jealousy.

The group was well aware of your feelings for JJ.

The hot headed idiot has feelings for you too, they assumed, since he’s always been unnecessarily protective of you the most and had constantly flirted with you but even so, no one knows how the blond truly feels.

Especially now that Minnie started hanging out with the group.

Sarah was beyond excited at the news of her favourite cousin visiting the Outer Banks for a few weeks. She immediately introduced her to you and the pogues when Minnie arrived but now that excitement is slowly dying down when she’s been observing her best friend's mood shift from joyful to bitter whenever Minnie glued herself onto JJ.

Though you did try to hide it at first but Sarah knew you and saw right through the facade, having to be your best friend since kindergarten, there was nothing she did not know about you and eventually Kie caught on aswell.

Sarah wasn’t expecting JJ and Minnie to hit it off quite well though, Minnie had mentioned a supposed boyfriend when she called a month ago and now Sarah is just confused. They must’ve broken up? The Cameron girl thought.

“Lookin’ a little green there Y/n” Sarah blinked, eyes turned away from you to Kie who has a smirk set on her lips. You tore your attention away from the two losers flirting and looked at Kie.

“What? Kie, shut up” you scoff, instantly understanding what she meant. Sarah then begins to giggle, flinging a grape your way and joining in on the teasing.

“Green is not a good colour on you, ya know?” Sarah adds and you roll your eyes, bringing the bottle of beer up to your lips. Eyes steady set on the waves ahead crashing onto the shore with a soft hiss, hoping for the waves to get bigger and swallow you and only you, whole.

“you’re lookin’ alot like this grape right here babe” Kie quips and the said grape is thrown at your head. you groan and shove her with your shoulder, only making her laugh.

“Green? But Y/n looks good in green” JJ declares as he now joins in on the conversation, interrupting Pope who was in the middle of discussing his thoughts on a rare plant that he discovered on the internet. Your heart flutters at the compliment. “Forest green goes well with your skin tone the best” he continued.

Messy blond hair shining golden under the sun and his baby blue eyes are lighter than usual but it must’ve been that perfect tan he’s got going, making the colour of his eyes pop and more apparent. Blood rushed to your cheeks and you’re not sure if it was from the compliment: or from how beautiful JJ looks at this very moment.

Having caught on JJ's stare and his sweet smile, you miss the knowing glances the pogues shared with each other and just as you were about to reply to the blond, Minnie broke the silence with a giggle, making you cringe internally for the thousand time.

“I agree with JJ, i really liked that green crop top, long sleeved you wore the other day!” she said genuinely.

Head tilted to the side and showing off a toothy smile, the whiteness of her perfect teeth blinding you a little. You don’t hate Minnie, not at all. Hate is such a strong word and you would never use it on anyone. Maybe except Rafe, the guy was a douche.

Minnie has been nothing but kind to you and the others the whole three weeks she’s been here. She’s the definition of charming. Minnie holds beauty and grace, she’s talented and smart. You would say that she was everything you aren’t but that's a load of BS.

You are just as beautiful from head to toe, just as talented and smart, and a sense of humour, the kind that fits well with all different types of personalities of others.

You don’t have a single bad bone in your body so why were you jealous of Minnie? A girl who is not gonna be in the Outer Banks for any longer than a month? It is because she has JJ Maybank wrapped around her pretty finger just after a day of her being around.

Whilst for you, it had taken JJ a month to get properly used to your presence and another month for him to warm up and get to know you better.

It had taken two whole months for you to prove to him that you weren’t just some privileged, snobby, all good for nothing kook and after a while it had led you and the boy to a much closer, deeper friendship.

Then eventually you fall in deep. Deep into his captivating eyes and exciting personality. You fell in love with JJ Maybank.

You gave one of your best smiles to Minnie and thanked her kindly, eyes darting back to JJ who was still peering at you with a tender smile.

Minnie quickly caught on the lingering looks held between you and JJ. She didn’t like that, not one bit. She likes you, don’t get it twisted. She just saw you as a competition.

“so Y/n.. I saw you with Todd the other day?” She interrupted your moment.

You raised a brow with a slight tilt of your head, confused. You try to relive all the times you’ve bump into Todd recently but the only time you could remember was last week, when you both bonded over milkshakes and fries.“Wait Todd? As in, Todd Nelson?” Pope questioned.

“Why were you with Todd Y/n?” John B’s voice piped up, tugging Sarah closer to his body so she was practically sitting on top of him.

“Isn’t he kinda weird?”

“Yeah! i heard he has some kind of foot fetish but i dunno?“

“He’s pretty hot though?”

“Well i think you would make a cute couple-“

“Oh my gosh guys would you shush!” You announce, waving your arms in the air. “He’s not a weirdo and no he doesn’t have a foot fetish Sarah, what the hell?”

“Well it’s what i heard from Rafe-“

“Can we not talk about Todd right now?” JJ groaned in frustration, running his clad ring fingers through his tousled hair. A tight grip on the beer in his left hand.

“Aight JJ chill, what’s up your ass?” John B laughed as he found the annoyed look on the blond’s face quite funny, the pogues thought JJ’s disdain for Todd was amusing as heck because the male was obsessed with you and it irritated JJ (not that you knew that) and when John B pointed it out, JJ just shrugged it off with a dumb excuse that was “he’s too jacked up with muscles, he looks like a cloud” you laughed at the blond comparing Todd to a cloud. You honestly found JJ adorable when he was annoyed.

Your heart twisted when you saw Minnie linking her fingers with JJ’s and caressed his arm, comforting him like she was his girlfriend or something. Your face felt hot and you knew you were mad. You felt ashamed of feeling this way but it wasn’t like you could help it.

As a good friend of his you should be supportive and accepting, you should have been happy for him in finally opening up to someone as beautiful as Minnie because he was happy with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel happy knowing that he’s better off with someone else, but you weren’t a child. You swore you will congratulate the both of them if they do decide to get together and just cry yourself to sleep every night until you move on. That's the spirit!

JJ being in a relationship with Minnie, a stunning girl who could pass as a model. The thought weighs heavy on your mind and it hurted.

Minnie caresses his cheek lovingly and you almost gagged. Minnie just told a lame joke and now their bonding over it.

You held a breath behind pursed lips and before you could get up to move towards the salty waters and drown yourself in it the words that escaped Minnie’s lips left your brain in stutters for a moment as your eyes take in more light than expected, every part of you goes on pause while your thoughts try to catch up.

“I love you JJ”

The world seemed to stop moving, a heavy silence settled over all of you, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced around swiftly, to avoid catching other glances that passed by. Pope’s jaw is slacked and Kie and John B shifted uncomfortably in their seat as Sarah has never cringed so hard in her entire life.

Your mind was completely blank, brows furrowed as you stared at Minnie with displeasure and pure jealousy. Your heart screams at JJ to reject the pretty brunette.

He was bewildered, blue eyes about to pop out of their sockets. Lips shut tight in a straight line.

“Minnie what the fuck?” Sarah was the first to speak up and break the tensed silence. Your friends' eyes land on Sarah then back to Minnie and JJ, until finally landing on you to examine your reaction.

“Yeah Minnie what the fuck?” You seethed, the anger in your voice caught you off guard and the others too. You catch JJ’s eyes for a second before focusing back on Minnie who held her face in her hands and began to sob like a toddler. You rolled your eyes, arms crossed against your chest.

“I’m sorry everyone, i've just never felt this way about anyone before and JJ.. well he’s cute and I just couldn’t help but tell him how I felt. How i truly felt!!” she expressed quite dramatically.

In the corner of your eyes you can see Sarah pinch the bridge of her nose, Kie is covering her mouth with her hand and John B’s head is tilted back, eyes closed.

“You don't love him Min! you barely even know the dude?!” Sarah hoots, throwing her arms up in the air to get her point across.

“i just- i need a minute” Kid mutters to herself as her brain tries to comprehend what Minnie just said to JJ. John B’s head is still tilted back with his eyes closed, not saying a word, just sighing.

Pope is taken aback with Minnie’s confession and begins to shake JJ’s shoulders like a maniac. JJ grabs his wrist and shoves him away. “Minnie i-“ he pauses, not really knowing what to say.

JJ doesn’t feel the same and he wants to say it but with the way the brunette is crying heavily onto him made him stiff. He gawks at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her frame, only because he felt bad and comforting her until she stopped crying was something that felt right to him in the moment.

He pats her back awkwardly but you saw this as a sign that he feels the same way she does and that he was only embarrassed to tell her that he loves her too.

You untuck your legs from under you and stood up so fast you blacked out for a second. You bend over to snatch your beach bag that was behind Pope and allow your feet to drag you away from the group.

“No Y/n! Get back here!”

“Y/n!”

You are being childish but you didn’t care. You mentally shrug off the embarrassment creeping up on your spine for storming off like that. Knowing that you will cringe later at your own dramatics. You thought you have walked far enough so the others won’t follow but the sudden hand in yours pulling you back forcefully made your heart jump and your chest bumping into a harder chest.

“Stop. Where are you going?”

The emotion in his eyes was fathom deep, heavy and blunt but yet still full of emotions. The striking blue colour held you in place. You sighed.

“I’m tired i guess? I’m fine J, just go back and i’ll-“ he attached his lips on yours before you could even finish the sentence and after a few seconds of not feeling you reciprocating the kiss he pulled away and leaned his forehead on yours. You stared up at him with confusion. A thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled. “JJ?” You murmur.

“I'm sorry”

“For what exactly?” He ignored the sarcasm.

“Were you jealous of Minnie?” He asked stupidly, as if he didn’t already know. You begin to shove at his chest but he keeps you in place, arms wrapped tightly around your smaller frame. The cons of being a small girl. Your vision is blurry as it wells up with up-coming tears and you feel weak.

“Of course I was jealous of her, you buffoon” you cry. His heart ached at the sight of you unraveling in front of him. “I thought it was you and me? But she comes along and all of a sudden I don’t matter to you anymore?”

“Hey stop! that's-“

“No JJ you stop!” You find the strength to push him away this time and he stumbles back, almost losing his footing at the forceful shove. “I feel like an idiot for thinking that there was something between us, that you felt the same-“

“I do feel the same!” He steps forward and tries to reach for you but you take a step back. “You can’t just kiss me and expect things to be fine and dandy when all you did was pay attention to her and barely spared me a single glance!” His footsteps light as he moves closer, moving slowly and reaching out for you again.

“I felt as if i wasn’t good enough. Like you just got bored of being with me all of a sudden and it broke my heart cause i swore that we had something special even when we didn’t get along at the start!” Your lips wobbled as you sobbed harder.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” you jumped like a frightened rabbit when his voice echoed through your ears loud and clear. “Look i’m not great at expressing my emotions okay? It's just not easy for me to do sometimes and i'm sorry but i do feel the same. I saw you out with Todd last week and thought it was a date so i’ve been leaning on Minnie to forget about you. I fucking love you, im fucking inlove with you and im sorry okay?”

Your heart races when you look at him. Jaw clenched and his own chest heaving, fist bawled to his side. His little rant left you stunned and you wiped a few tears from your cheeks before pulling him into your embrace.

The arms that held him were soft, yet strong. The feel of your body so close to his soothed him and within seconds he pulled away only to kiss you again, and this time you reciprocated. You whisper plentiful of ‘i love yous’ against his lips and he feels his knees tremble at the sweetness of you.

☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ 𝔹 𝕆 ℕ 𝕌 𝕊 ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎

“So..green huh?” JJ intertwines his hand in yours and begins to lead the way, heading to the direction of the chateau. “What?”

“When Sarah said green wasn’t your colour did she mean it metaphorically? Because you were jealous of Minnie?” He’s teasing. “Shut up”

He throws a heavy arm over your shoulder and pinches your cheek with his fingers making you fake groan in pain. You lightly punched his side and sprint off, laughing loudly as he chased after you and almost tripped on nothing.

507 notes · View notes

mooniefics · 3 years

Text

in the grand scheme of things [ 2 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren / reader

word count : 6.2k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 25 / 21 on ao3 —

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you were already halfway back to campus before you noticed your phone was missing.

you'd completely forgotten about your desire to message sasha after you stepped out of the shower, taking a good, long look at your naked body in the steamed mirror. starting from your shoulder and ending around your sternum, your skin was scattered with deep marks that you were sure would be printed onto your skin for the rest of the week, maybe even some of the next, seeing as the worst of them were accompanied by the faint bordering of teeth. you wanted to be embarrassed, ashamed, anything that showed the slightest bit of maturity on your end, but you couldn't deny the feeling like you'd gotten a weight off your chest, like you'd reclaimed your emotional freedom by getting the chance to cry it out—and get it fucked out of you, too.

the only concern you held was whether eren would ever know. zeke didn't seem like the type to kiss and tell, he was laidback and easy-going enough to let you come in his home, drown away your sorrows in his alcohol, rightfully take your side despite your weak, albeit still there, insistence for him to take the middle ground and not feel angered on your behalf. plus, you didn't really know how to broach the topic of "can you please refrain from mentioning to your younger brother that you fucked me" without completely embarrassing yourself, but your dirty little secret felt safe with him.

you didn't know exactly how you'd make it up to him, you'd have to figure out some way that was feasible for a broke college student such as yourself. although, he was making it incredibly difficult to chart this incident off as a one and done sort of endeavor when you exited the bathroom just to find your clothes, cleaned and freshly dried, neatly folded on the bed, and the ibuprofen you'd requested with a glass of water waiting for you on the adjacent nightstand. zeke was being nice—a little too nice—but you couldn't help but feel your heart skip at his apparent concern. perhaps it was because you'd been emotionally neglected for a while, or maybe it was because zeke was an impossibly attractive older man who you wouldn't think would ever give you the time of day, or maybe a combination of both.

whatever it was, you allowed that stupid, giddy smile to stay on your lips as you tugged on your clothes, gulping down the two pills, mouth uncomfortably dry until you'd finished off the entire glass in one go. you chatted with him over your plate of eggs, noting that he'd changed out his sweatpants for a much smarter pair of dark trousers, white button up ironed and pristine, brown corduroy coat in one hand and mug of coffee in the other. you quickly finished up, noting the way he kept checking the expensive looking silver watch that fit perfectly over his wrist, accentuating the fine contour of his large hands.

you couldn't say that you were thrilled by the butterflies still fluttering about in your stomach, not at all made any better when he'd once again made an attentive offer to you. "it's kinda chilly out, the jacket you brought isn't really all that suited for the weather today.. wanna borrow one of mine?"

and so you left that morning wrapped up in a leather bomber jacket that was a size or two too big, having to stop yourself from breathing in the wonderful scent of his cologne still lingering on the collar as he walked you out of his apartment, so distracted that you hadn't even bothered to check if you had all your belongings in your purse until something reminded you of your desire to message your roommate.

you'd been driving past one of the shopping plazas you frequented when you had enough time—and money—to spare, catching sight of the many drive-thru restaurants open and quickly thinking of sasha. you owed her a bit of an apology for ditching out on her last night, especially after you'd assured her you would be back in time to watch the new episode of her favorite show when it premiered, but when you'd dug your hand into your purse to reach for your phone, you came up empty.

"fuck." you muttered to yourself, turning into one of her favorite restaurants anyways to get her something.

you didn't exactly have any phone numbers memorized aside from your mother's, you didn't really think anybody did these days, and it wasn't like you could go back and wait the entire day for him to get home. so you settled on roughing it until then, hoping that it'd just fallen out onto the floor of his apartment rather than in the parking lot of his complex where it could be stepped on, run over, stolen—any myriad of things that would assure your phone-less-ness for an irritatingly long time.

by the time you made it back to campus and up to your dorm, sasha was already awake enough to immediately pounce you at the site of the paper bag in your hand, nearly crying with gratitude as she unwrapped her double-patty burger, with extra cheese, as you'd remembered her emphasizing the first time you'd watched her place her order, and two large fries on the side.

"an' yuu ev'n rem'ber'd muh ord'r!!" she spoke around large bites, practically halfway done with it before she properly swallowed. you'd never met a girl who could eat like sasha could eat.

"it was the least i could do after completely ditching out last night." you said as you settled down on your bed with a sigh, shedding zeke's jacket.

"don't sweat it, i invited meeks over so i wasn't completely alone." she assured, then froze, glancing nervously at you like she expected you to be angry.

you weren't entirely thrilled with the fact that your roommate happened to become great friends with mikasa, but it wasn't your place to tell her to stop hanging out with her for the sake of some stupid rivalry over the boy. although, the situation had changed. she'd technically "won" at the end of the day, if she considered such foul play as a win, so you guessed that there really wasn't anymore reasons for tense silences and unnecessarily aggressive glares to be exchanged any longer.

"i'm glad you had fun last night," your smile seemed to ease sasha as she bit into a handful of fries, "even if i couldn't make it."

"so what happened? you went over to talk with one of eren's other friends right?"

you'd told sasha you'd been going over to see someone who knew eren, not exactly bringing in the detail that the said individual was his brother, but it was technically true. the blurry memory of last night flashed through your head, his lazy grins, full lips kissing and nipping over your skin, fingers and cock spreading you open so perfectly for him—

"i-it was nothing..! just got kind of carried away drinking, and he was nice enough to let me crash on the couch for the night."

oh, he let you do something on his couch alright. you hoped your face wasn't incriminating you as her gaze flickered down to the jacket.

"let you borrow his jacket too?" you nodded a bit too quickly, earning a crooked, teasing smile from the girl. "anyways.. what's the consensus? figure out anything new?"

that his best friend you hung out with last night and him cheated on me. "just talked about basic stuff, nothing's really set in stone yet, still mulling it over."

she nodded, already done with her burger and working through the first carton of fries. "did you have your phone on silent? i was worried you got kidnapped or something."

you chuckled through your nose, wandering over to your dresser as you began to unbutton your blouse, jerking to a pause when you remembered the very damning evidence of your own infidelity last night. "don't laugh, ok? i had my phone on silent, we ate dinner and drank, then i passed out, and i guess it fell out of my purse or something, because it wasn't in there when i went to text you if you wanted anything to eat."

"and you still got me something.. you're an angel." you rolled your eyes at sasha's wide, adoring gaze, laughing at the fact that the food took priority over your missing phone, "do you remember the guy's number..?" she wracked her brain for a moment before smacking around her mattress, tapping into her phone, "oh! i got it! he's one of eren's friends, right? if that's the case, mikasa'll have his number for sure."

you felt your back stiffen up, biting at the inside of your lip as you floundered for an excuse. "o-oh no, i wouldn't wanna bother her.. you know we're not on great terms, what happens if she asks why you need his number?" sasha's disgruntled frown encouraged you. "if she hears that you're only getting it for me, she probably won't give it to you."

"come on, she's not that bad." you shot her a look as you pulled a set of clean clothes out of your dresser drawers, opting to change in the closet, "alright fine... maybe she is that bad sometimes. but it's not like you killed her dog or something, and plus you're, like, her best friend's girlfriend-"

"for now." you interrupted, shutting the door and putting a barrier between you and your roommate's prying eyes, "and we barely even act like a couple anymore."

"for now." sasha repeated mockingly, mouth obviously full of fries, "but anyways, i'm sure she'll do this teeny favor for you—especially if i'm asking—so c'mon, give me a name!"

you tugged the long-sleeved sweatshirt over your head, checking yourself on the mirror hanging onto the back of the door to make sure you were entirely covered. "no, sasha. she already doesn't like me enough as it is, no need for us to interact and antagonize each other even more."

you walked out after pulling on your pair of athletic shorts, loose and comfortable around your slightly sore legs, laughing softly when she stuck her tongue out at you. "fine. be like that. keep secrets from your best friend in the whole wide world."

"ha-ha." you enunciated wryly, sitting back down onto your mattress and pulling your laptop from beneath your pillow. clicking through your itinerary for the coming weeks, you internally groaned. ironic how being a psych major could make you need a psychologist yourself.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your password had been woefully easy to guess.

he'd tried the classic 1-2-3-4, almost thankful when the text at the top of the screen prompted him to enter a different combination, but a slight disappointment came when he tried your birthday and the phone opened without a problem. he'd at least expected to get locked out for a minute or two, but there he was, scrolling with free reign through your inordinate amount of apps at his seat.

he had plenty of time to laze around, seeing as the library didn't have many patrons at the moment, plus the elevated desk concealed the fact that he wasn't truly doing anything from the average passer-by. the sense of power he felt almost made him smile. these days, everybody had everything on their phones, and it made him wonder what secrets you could be hiding in this little device of yours. it was a few generations behind, not that he expected the latest and greatest from a college freshman, but still mostly intact with a obviously aged case, a few dents here, a scratch in the metal there, small cracks webbing from the corners of the screen protector, but all and all it functioned perfectly fine.

he was tempted to snoop further—maybe scroll through your contacts list to see if you had any mutuals he didn't know about, check to see if you actually cleared your browser history or just left out all your dirty laundry for anyone who tapped into your search engine to find—but he maintained some semblance of self-control, opening up your messages app and checking to see what his brother had said.

eren <3 10:53 am hey babe where are you right now

you missed a call from eren <3 (2)

eren <3 10:57 am i know we haven't gotten a chance to talk lately but please pick up

you missed a call from eren <3

eren <3 10:58 am youre making me nervous pick up

you missed a call from eren <3 (3)

zeke couldn't help but chuckle at his younger brother's emotional incompetence. your last message had been days ago, and from scrolling back in the texts he could see how you were attempting to initiate a majority of the conversation, and the sparse replies here and there from eren were nothing short of pathetically uninterested.

zeke pitied you—the desperate, doting, undeniably adorable college girl who wanted nothing more than to make eren happy—his brother didn't deserve such devotion. even if he wasn't truly sure if eren had really cheated on you, what he was sure about was the fact that this relationship was entirely weighed against your favor.

eren <3 11:03 am fuck i know i fucked up but i didntnfucking deserve that please tell me that wasnt you fuck please fuckign pick up i love you

you missed a call from eren <3 (4)

eren <3 11:08 am did you seriously fucking shut your phone off what the fcuk

eren <3 11:10 am you know what me and armin are coming back next week we'll talk then.

that's right, he'd gone out of the country with that scrawny little blonde kid that always flinched when zeke intruded on eren's hangouts, probably on his dad's dime too. zeke scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he tapped through your text conversation, quickly finding the "delete messages?" prompt and selecting all evidence of eren's one-sided correspondence, tapping the bright red "delete all" button at the bottom of the screen, and finally blocking his number just for good measure. all your old chats were still there, and he was sure that you'd gotten used to eren not messaging anyways, meaning he wouldn't have to worry about him reaching out to you for the time being.

slipping your phone back into his pocket with a sigh, he could feel that warm, smug feeling bubbling up in his chest. he knew he was only postponing the inevitable, that you'd find out the whole, horrible truth eventually, but it was almost fun to dance around the consequences like he was doing so right now. you were fun to play with, unassuming and prim one moment and brazenly shameless the next. there were layers to you, hidden bits that he was sure that he could coax you into revealing to him, slowly but surely bare your raw, unconcealed essence.

his thoughts were interrupted by someone at the counter, a girl who looked about your age with a shirt that was far too low for the way she was leaning toward him, pushing forward her library card with a single dainty finger and setting down a small stack of books. and somehow, he was thinking about you again as he flashed a charming smile that had convinced many other women before into getting a library card of their own.

that was the difference between you and everyone else, you didn't throw yourself at him, you didn't so blatantly vie for his attention, but instead silently appealed for it with your shy glances, small shifts in your posture when he drew near, and all those pretty little sounds that he could earn with a few gentle touches in just the right place. he could feel himself stirring in his pants just thinking about last night, glad that he'd made such a good first impression on you as he swiped the girl's card and scanned her books under the sensor next to the computer.

"all set for the next two weeks." he offered a small grin, passing back her things.

"thank you," she paused, making a show of dragging her eyes down from his face to the name tag pinned over his bicep, "zeke. i'll see you then."

she bit her lip as she stepped away from the counter, sauntering away towards the door with an obvious excitement. easier girls always held a place in zeke's heart, but there was nothing like the thrill of the chase that he found in you.

he heard the quiet swoosh of the automatic doors sliding open, glancing over absentmindedly to check out the newest patron. but he felt himself perk up in his seat at the sight of you, large canvas book bag hanging off your shoulder and, much to zeke's delight, still wearing his jacket. it took you a moment to notice him, but the change in your features enthralled him nonetheless, going from bored and almost tired-looking to surprised, then flustered as you froze, wide eyes trained on him. he chuckled to himself, nodding his head at you, almost beckoning you to come, and the self-satisfied smirk that drew across his lips was impossible to contain when you actually began your quick advance up to the counter.

"z-zeke, hi. i didn't know you worked here.."

"and i didn't know you came here." he rolled his chair closer, "i thought i would've seen you around by now."

"i usually go to the library on campus, but," the way you peered around, almost looking nervous to gaze directly at him, was strangely endearing to zeke, "i was just kinda looking for a change of scenery."

"fair enough." he said, remembering the weight of your phone in his pocket, "oh yeah, i'm glad you're here. my roommate called me earlier, said he found your phone on the floor back at the apartment."

you leaned forward at the mention of your phone—the complete lie he'd come up with just now—lips parted in surprise. it looked a lot like the expression he'd envisioned when he had his arms around you last night, pressing teasing kisses over your warm skin, but zeke held off on that thought for the moment.

"ah, i almost forgot about that..! well i'm glad it was that rather than it getting stolen or something.."

he checked his watch, very cognizant of your expectant gaze falling onto him the second he took his eyes off you. "i get off for lunch in about half an hour, if it's not too much trouble we can swing by my place, then i can bring you back here, maybe get you some lunch?"

you flushed brilliantly at that, barely containing your almost giddy smile as you nodded. "yeah thanks, that'd be really great actually! but you don't have to worry about getting me lunch.. i already owe you for dinner last night."

just dinner?, he thought, internally smirking, but he kept it to himself. "don't worry your pretty little head about it," your flustered reactions were addictive, "just go have a seat over in the working area and i'll come find you after i clock out."

you nodded, offering another small "thank you" before you obediently turned to traverse the scattered expanse of tables on the library floor and find yourself a spot to sit. the next thirty minutes felt unnecessarily long for zeke. he'd answered a few phone calls, worked through recording the stack of books he'd recovered from the "returned" box when he clocked in for his shift, but ended up giving into the temptation of shelving them himself instead of handing them off to the page to sneak a glance at you.

you'd settled at a long table nestled between the large shelves, entirely alone aside from another college student that zeke recognized from the frequency of his visits, but the modest amount of seats separating you let him know that you were strangers. you didn't seem to notice him when he drifted by, headphones in, entirely focused on your open laptop in front of you, jacket now zipped up halfway. he'd forgotten how cold the library was, mostly used to it after having worked there for nearly a year, not lingering in the aisle for too long before he finished up putting away the last of the books remaining in his arms and returning to the front.

"willy, i'm clocking out for lunch, can you watch the desk?" he called out when he caught the man emerging from the back.

"yeah, yeah, i've got you. but actually come back on time, alright?" he said, tying up his long blonde hair into a messy ponytail, "magath got on my ass last time i covered for you when you were late."

"can i make it up to you with some coffee?" zeke offered, grinning when his coworker grunted affirmatively, "text me your order, i'll get it to you on my way back."

and with that, he logged out of his account on the work desktop and left the chair for willy to sit in, wandering back out onto the floor to circle back around to where you were sitting.

he alerted you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you. "ready to go?"

you nodded, quickly packing your things away into your bag and following him out of the library doors to his car. he opened the passenger door for you just to see that cute smile that always seem to draw across your lips when he did something you liked, slipping into the drivers' seat and syncing his phone to the car before he pulled out of the parking lot.

"the smiths, huh?" you mused from beside him as "heaven knows i'm miserable now" played across the radio's screen.

"you still listen to them?" he asked, remembering when he'd seen you in his parents' kitchen in their merchandise.

"sometimes." you replied, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

"a little cold to be wearing a skirt, don't you think?"

"what? it's cute, isn't it?" you protested, prompting him to reach over the console with one hand to give the exposed skin of your thigh a few affectionate pats as he laughed softly.

"it is cute."

you fell quiet after that, obviously pleased with his attention but clamming up with that endearing introversion once again. he was content with watching you nod along to his playlist, smiling to yourself when something you recognized came up in the queue. the ride to his complex was short, and the walk up the staircase was silent, but he could feel your eyes lingering over him as you followed behind him, just as they had flickered over to glance at him when you thought he was focused on the road ahead. something about those tiny looks, shy smiles, the face of someone sheepish yet eager to please, it set zeke on fire.

he knew that he shouldn't be bringing you back to the apartment again, but he also knew that he had just about an hour to kill, and reiner was occupied with his own job and away once again, and you really did look great in that skirt and his jacket—

"give me a sec, i'm pretty sure my roommate put it in his room," zeke said, nodding over to the short hall across from the kitchen, knowing he couldn't just pull your phone out of your pocket right here and give it to you, "feel free to check the fridge if you're thirsty or something."

you gave an affirmative hum, wandering toward the kitchen as he turned to enter reiner's room. he was sure that his friend would throw a fit if he figured out he was in his room without his permission, seeing as he was such a stickler for personal privacy, but he wouldn't have to know, zeke was good a keeping secrets. or at least that's what he liked to tell himself, that he was good at lying and sneaking around and pretending like he wasn't bothered by things that made his blood boil, eren being a prime example of such a thing. nineteen years, and somehow in all that time he'd never matured past the age of twelve.

zeke rolled his eyes at the thought, pulling your phone out and wiping away his finger prints on the front of his shirt. the notifications from your assumed roommate were still on the lock screen, joined by a few more miscellaneous ones from earlier in the day, looking entirely untouched for the hours that it had been out of your possession. that lack of accountability he held for essentially stealing your phone eased him a bit as he ventured back out into the main space.

but he couldn't help the burning desire he felt for you when he saw you seated on the island in the kitchen, open water bottle in your hand, peering at him excitedly in expectance of your phone, jacket now hanging off of you from the warmth of the apartment. you didn't shy away like he thought you might as he approached, simply screwing the cap back on the bottle and straightened up your posture, hand outstretched with a smile on your face.

"here you are." he said, sliding your phone into your hand, legs nearly bumping yours from how close he was.

"thank you." you murmured in reply, turning it on for a quick check of your notifications just for your eyes to gravitate right back over to him.

there was something intoxicating about the way you gazed at him, with a meek yet faintly awe-struck look that always seemed to stroke his ego in just the right place. he usually liked confident women, who were well-aware of their beauty and prowess, but there was something about the way you hid yourself away, only showing what you felt necessary but still caving when he peeled away the layers concealing yourself one by one. you weren't desperate initially, not exactly standoffish either, just the perfect balance of reserved and alluring to draw him along after you. especially how you didn't seem to shy away from a challenge such as himself, despite how easy you were to fluster.

he checked his watch before he spoke, his voice low and full of intention. "we've still got about forty minutes before i have to get back." you licked your lips, eyebrows cinching upward just the slightest bit, head unconsciously tilting upwards towards his. though the height of the counter closed an inch or two of distance between the two of you, he still stood taller than you, pressing forward the smallest bit, able to feel your soft breaths fanning over his cheek. "so, what do you say..?"

you didn't speak, only giving a small nod, and that was all it took for zeke to close the space that was barely there between you, lips melding easily over your own. you let out a small sound of surprise, sending a jolt of heat straight through him, determined to make it happen again. your hands grasped at the front of his shirt, clenching at the fabric when his own rose to grip your thighs, spreading them to accommodate his presence and urge himself even closer to you. the feeling of your bare skin, pliant flesh that his fingers sunk so easily into, the knowledge that the only thing keeping him from you was your underwear under your skirt, was enough to make him even more impatient than he already was.

"didn't get enough last night, huh?" he breathed into your ear after he'd pulled away, grinning at the sight of your shaking head and your whispered "n-no".

he maintained enough control to not mark the skin exposed by your shirt when he reached it, but still nipped with enough pressure to pull more little moans that made his cock ache in the constraints of his pants. you didn't protest when the hands on your thighs slid further inward, gasping softly when he let a finger slowly stroke over your clothed cunt.

"and i've barely even touched you.. naughty girl." the way you bristled at his shameless words was endlessly enthralling to him, "already so needy for me..."

you squirmed as he palmed you through your underwear, attempting to speak, but your words always stammered off into an incoherent whimper, hips already rutting up as subtly as they could manage into his hand. "p-please, zeke. i w-want.."

"what do you want?" he pulled away from your neck, hazy, low-lidded eyes gazing directly into your own, "want my fingers in that little pussy of yours?"

you flushed brilliantly at his crassness, but nodded all the same, following up with a whimpered "yes, please..!"

you were begging with your mouth and eyes and he'd only just started, the fact that you were so eager from just the slightest touches made him impossibly hard. he lowered himself to his knees as quickly as he could, letting your heels rest on his shoulders to push yourself up off the counter long enough for him to peel your underwear off of you, sucking air between your teeth when you lowered your bare skin back down onto the cool granite.

he loved how compliant you were, how you let him adjust your position as he pleased, balancing yourself on one hand after he'd settled you on the edge of the island. he made sure to admire the way your face shifted when he ran a finger across your slick skin, thumb drawing across your clit to tease you for just a moment before he slid one finger into you.

"fuck.." he muttered to himself, admiring how you just barely arched toward him when he curled it inside you, retracting his hand and pushing in with a second finger.

he was sure that he could watch you all day, spread out on the kitchen counter, bottom lip reddening from being bitten so firmly between your teeth, eyes glassy and completely fogged over with lust. but he knew that he only had this single hour, regretting offering willy his promise of apology coffee, but deciding to take care of what he'd started and still having time to spare.

plucking his glasses from his nose, he set them on the counter beside your phone, pressing a lingering kiss over one of the thighs beside his head as a silent way to let you know his intentions, pleased to see nothing but anticipation etched across your flushed features as he proceeded. his first lick was intentionally slow, savoring the full body tremble you gave and the flavor of you on his tongue, grasp on your flank fastening to hold you apart while he continued.

he groaned at the hand that shakily clenched in his hair, the one clasped over your mouth doing little to contain the whines and baseless pleas spilling from your lips. zeke was certain his neighbors hated him by now, but he could honestly care less about such a menial detail like that when it was you moaning loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall, solely because of him. and a part of him had to wonder if eren had ever been able to satisfy you the way he had last night—the way he was now—if he'd ever gotten to fully explore and appreciate all the little things you had to offer. his younger brother was juvenile at best in his eyes, and, as far as he knew, entirely inexperienced until he began dating you. but zeke didn't mind showing up the kid, especially not when you deserved to feel as good as he made you feel. after all, he still had just about a week until ramifications were entirely inescapable, he could keep having fun with you for those couple days at the very least.

he pushed the more complicated thoughts from the forefront of his mind, choosing instead to focus on you in front of him, eyes low-lidded and unfocused, now biting onto one of your knuckles, hips rolling into his mouth and fingers in an obvious chase for your release. he rolled his tongue across your clit in quick, ruthless strokes, grinning against you when you whined, eyes rolling back into your head as it felt back toward the ceiling, your hold in his hair almost painfully tight. he could feel the tell-tale stiffen of your muscles, curling his fingers to rub at that part that seemed to drive you wild, catching the stammered end of his name on your lips as you came.

even from his place on the ground, he could see how your chest heaved, legs still quivering, wearing an almost dazed expression until you'd blinked away the fogginess in your eyes. your sheepishness returned when you watched him lick his lips, still slick with your arousal, whimpering softly at the departure of his fingers. he adjusted himself in his pants before stepped away, allowing you to recollect yourself while he proceeded over to the kitchen sink, washing his hands and patting away the remaining stickiness from his chin with the paper towel he used to dry them, watching with a close-lipped grin as you slowly lowered yourself back onto the ground and pulled up your underwear.

he checked his watch after he'd situated his glasses onto his face, frowning. only the better part of twenty minutes left in his break. "ready to get going?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back down, his casual tone seeming to ease you.

"mhm." you replied, straightening out your clothes and beginning to shrug his jacket back onto your shoulders before you glanced over at him, "do you want this back? i didn't mean to steal it from you.."

"keep it." he said, plucking his keys from his pocket and proceeding towards the door, "it looks good on you." he didn't even have to look back at you to know that you were smiling.

the car ride was once again mostly silent, seeing as you were tapping through your phone and looking at everything you'd missed in the time you were away from it. but when he'd pulled into the starbuck drive-thru to get willy his unnecessary complicated order and turned to ask if you wanted anything, he caught you looking at your text conversation with eren before you shut your phone off and asked for a chai latte and a butter croissant, and he felt an odd twinge in his chest as he delivered your request and his own of an unsweetened cold brew to the speaker beside his rolled down window.

was it irritation? jealousy? possessiveness? for the first time in a while, he was unsure of how he felt. it was a bit unnerving, but also fascinating all at once. he could've never expected this sort of outcome from the situation, but it wasn't entirely unwelcoming. now that he thought about it, his life had been a bit dull lately, a cyclical routine of attending his job, going out for drinks on tuesday, the occasional sexual conquest here and there with women he met but never remembered, but your call had been a break in the routine, an expected opportunity that he was determined to not let slip through his fingers. and while he would've probably just been satisfied with allowing your name to join all the others in the blurry recesses of his memory at first, he knew now that there was much more for him to discover.

so he let you finish up the lunch he'd gotten you, turning up the radio and escorting you back to the library, feeling far too satisfied with himself as he watched you disappear between the shelves, proceeding back behind the desk and setting willy's coffee down beside him. "don't get up yet, i have to piss."

he groaned frustratedly at that. "why didn't you fucking do that on your break, you ass."

"i got your coffee in the drive-thru." zeke replied absentmindedly, already stalking off to the staff bathroom in the back with the thought of you on the counter playing over and over in his head.

only after locking the door and settling on the toilet did he finally let out a heavy sigh, tapping into his camera roll and quickly finding his picture of you from this morning. just the sight of your half-exposed body made his pants feel tight once again, and he regretted not taking more photos when he had the chance, but this would be enough for now, especially with the memory of you begging for him not even an hour ago fresh on his mind.

he didn't feel any sort of shame as he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out of his boxers, the tip of his cock already slick with pre, ready for the release he'd denied himself for the sake of time—and your satisfaction, of course—the release he'd be granting himself right now, with you just a couple meters away, entirely unaware that it was all because of you.

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