#this is kind of my love letter to the series too almost
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I Want You to Stay (12) | JJK
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (18+)
Chapter Word count: 24.7k
Series Masterlist
Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
A/N: Hiii so this took a while but thank for being patient and showing so much love! This might sting a bit but I hope you enjoy it. We're close to the end so don't lose hope! 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by someone you’ve given your all to. This doesn’t feel like that, but it’s close.
It’s so damn close that you feel your chest tightening, the unfamiliar feeling of loss of a person you never even had overwhelming you. You press your palms on your ears to block the sound of your heart breaking, but even that doesn’t do anything.
You let go, your fingers now shaking as you type away. Jungkook has asked you to send him your resignation letter so he can forward it to HR for documentation. It’s like saying goodbye to him all over again, and it doesn’t hurt any less.
This is all on you though, you remind yourself. Wanting him was wrong in the first place - he’s your boss, the man who pays you, who needs you so he could do his job, so you could make his life easier. But he’s also the son of the man that your family is indebted to; a man who, in a lot of ways, shaped the way you approach life and determine what you want out of it. Jungkook stands as a reminder of who you are and where you came from, of the childhood you had, and the decisions you made to get to where you are now. You let your guard down and let him in, and you let yourself fall for a man whose own past was always going to intertwine with yours.
You don’t know what you were thinking, kissing him and believing that things would fall into place. That was the thing - he kissed you and you kissed him back, a moment of weakness that you had no business having, as if almost doing it the first time wasn’t bad enough. You planned on leaving, and you hoped that you’d get to tell him on your own terms, that you’d have time to process your feelings and then explain yourself to him, that you’d be able to process his feelings and see the sincerity in them.
But life doesn’t always play out the way you want to, and you can keep thinking that people would react the way you hope they would but you’re human. You fell into his touch and wanted so much of it that you couldn’t think properly. He asked you to stay - expected it actually, which is the last thing you wanted him to do.
And now you’re left here with a lot of emotions that you don’t know what to do with - all conflicting, all overwhelming, and all seemingly out of your control.
You can’t deny what you feel for Jungkook. The thought that he feels the same should be something you welcome, but with how you both learned about it, and with him now knowing the secret you’ve been keeping, it’s hard to think how you both could move forward without those feelings of doubt, perhaps of distrust. You know enough that those aren’t good starting points for any relationship.
You’re doing what you have to do. Resigning was always the plan, but doing it this way wasn’t. You also didn’t expect you’d be leaving so much more than just a team you enjoy being a part of and a boss you’ve come to admire, a man who’s come to mean a lot of things to you.
And so even if this is the decision you’ll make every single time, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you to be making it. Perhaps it’s now just dawning on you that you’re truly walking away from this job, and that may mean walking away from, too. This is when you realize just how big that loss is gonna be.
Jungkook made you braver. He made you feel understood and less alone. He showed you that beautiful things do exist, that you can capture them so you could hold onto the good memories, and doing that is one way to move on from the things that hurt.
Without realizing it, he’d become the person you were willing to crawl out of your walls for. But just like him, maybe your timing wasn’t right either. No matter how strong the feelings are, something just happens to be more important than being with him - feeling free is one, knowing that you’re able to do this for yourself is another. There’s wanting sincerity, too, on his end and on yours.
You know you need time to sort yourself out, to know what you want outside of all this, but the way he goes on about his business is affecting you more than you expected. He’s essentially giving you two weeks to stay in the office. He’s having Lucas fly in immediately. The implications are breaking you even more - perhaps you’ll be kept out of the projects; maybe you’ll no longer do your morning routines with him.
Perhaps he’s still overwhelmed about everything he knows. And perhaps he’s realizing he doesn’t want that complication in his life anymore. Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with you and the mess you created, given all the stress and pressure he’s under.
Maybe you were that easy to let go, too.
The thought feels like a slap on the face.
But you’re the foolish one who wanted to leave but who also hoped he’d go after you. He didn’t do it last Friday. He’s not going to do that now. You doubt that after your last day, he would do it either.
The tears dance around your eyelids. Everything becomes blurry, and after the first one falls, you stand from your desk and head to the washroom. You give yourself just 10 minutes to silently cry. You hadn’t prepared for this enough, and now the thought of saying goodbye to the team and leaving Jungkook during a big project launch weighs heavily on you.
You calm yourself down, thinking that if you’d chosen to delay it, everything else would be harder - seeing him, being close to him, knowing you both feel the same way but not knowing if that’s enough. Or if it’s real.
You get to be selfish this time and leave for your own reasons. You get to choose which heartbreak you’ll face and for how long you’ll feel it. You get to decide which burdens you’ll carry and what you’re walking away from.
The team will understand. You’ll give your all for the next few weeks you’ll be around and make sure that Lucas guides them well. Hoseok will be supportive. You know that he’ll always encourage you to go where you’re happiest. You just hope he won’t carry any guilt for being one of the reasons why you stayed now that he knows the truth. CEO Jeon might still ask you to wait, or he might just not want to see you again if he knows what really happened with his son, and that’s something you’ll have to learn to deal with as well. You don’t want to think you’re burning bridges with this decision, but you also know that those who truly care would want this for you, too.
But despite all that, the guilt and the sadness don’t go away. You’d once thought you could be happy with Jungkook. He’d given you a peek into a life where you could be, and he’d given you a taste of what it’s like to feel that all-consuming desire for someone. You don’t know if you’ll have that or feel that again for another person, but you at least now know what you’re searching for.
Maybe you’ll get over yourself and find the words to tell him what you feel or hope for both of you. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other someday. You might also have to face the possibility that this decision is what pulls you apart for good, and the thought breaks your heart again.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think of the comfort of your morning routines and the shared silence. You think about the warmth you felt from all the food he’d sent when you were sick and injured. You think about that night you felt brave because he’d been with you when you were scared. You think about the tranquility of being in his presence as you gazed at the mountains and felt free being outdoors. You think about feeling understood during the times when you’d been honest and so had he.
These are the good memories he gave you, the ones you’ll hold onto as you go through all this. You wonder if he keeps them in a nook in his heart the way you do, and if he’ll hold onto them as well as you walk away from him and from what you could’ve been.
The thoughts are enough to suspend your sadness for a while. You fix yourself up and while it wasn’t a big cry, your slightly swollen eyes could still give you away. You decide it’s not much of a problem. Until, of course, when you make it back to your desk, about to sit down to resume your tasks, and Jungkook opens his door and locks eyes with you.
There’s a moment where you hold each other’s gazes, and you see his face fall a little, softening briefly before he looks away, the seriousness coming back again. He attempts to say something but he stops, looking down at the papers he’s holding instead and asks you to photocopy them for distribution to the team.
You nod in confirmation, and as you’re about to walk out, Hoseok shows up.
“Are you free?” He asks Jungkook. “I need to run some things with you.”
“Sure,” Jungkook replies, glancing at you before walking back to his room.
Hoseok finally turns to you and sees your glassy eyes. His face falls, unsure how to comfort you during this time. He was never sure how to do that before, and he feels heavier thinking that so many times when you still worked for him, you probably wanted to quit but couldn’t. And that maybe his claims of needing you around to help him helped keep you here, in a place that wasn’t giving you that joy and satisfaction that you deserve.
“___,” he calls out. “I got the notice. How are you feeling?”
“Well, I see that word travels fast,” you giggle, an attempt to avoid a somber conversation. You also don’t know how to explain whatever it is you’re feeling so it’s not something you’re keen on addressing.
“HR was actually the one that informed me and uncle,” he explains. “Losing you is a big deal so they thought to let us know right away. And I only mean that because you’re an integral part of this company. And you… you matter to my family. You matter to me, and I know you matter to him.”
Hoseok gestures towards Jungkook’s direction, prompting you to look away. The man in front of you sighs and apologizes, adding that you’ve come to mean so much to the people he cares for, including his wife.
“You welcomed me to your family, Hoseok,” you respond. “You and A-yeong treated me like one and I always will be. But none of the sadness yet. I’ll still be here for the next month.”
“I’ll take my time in saying goodbye then,” he says, his genuine smile serving as the comfort you badly need. “And I hope it’s not for good.”
“Not to you,” you assure him. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Good,” he says, his eyes softening in understanding and acceptance. “I’ll just meet with Jungkook. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” you say. “And uh, thank you.”
Your smile holds in it a lot of emotions for the man who’s become your friend all these years. And you know that whatever happens with Jungkook, Hoseok will always be a person you’ll treasure.
You walk out while he enters the room and closes the door.
Jungkook’s eyebrows are scrunched as he gives instructions over the phone while also typing on his desktop. Hoseok can sense the stress and tension all over his cousin, and he hopes that especially with this, the younger man finds it in him to talk about what he’s feeling. There’s fear that he’ll keep it all to himself again, and in doing so, he might just push you away even more.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Hoseok asks after the call ends.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Jungkook huffs.
There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok speaks again. “So, you already have a replacement for ___, huh?” He says, having just heard Jungkook’s conversation about Lucas’ work visa requirements over the phone. “Isn’t that too fast?”
“The Arts Center launch is in a couple of weeks. I can’t have delays,” Jungkook explains. “Sending Lucas here will require less time than looking for a new assistant. He’s familiar with the project and he’s used to working for me so he can take over with the preparations. I’ve received father’s approval for his transfer.”
“What about ___, then?”
“What about her?” Jungkook asks bitterly. “She’s resigned. I’ll have her focus on turning everything over and documenting key projects and practices. She has vacation leaves to use up for the last month she’s here.”
“Just like that?” Hoseok questions. “She resigns today and then you’ve gotten everything sorted out for her departure, just like that? As if you can’t wait for her to leave?”
“She wanted this,” Jungkook counters. “You heard what Mr. Ri said. She’s been wanting to do this for years, and I’m just making sure she’s not bothered by what she’s leaving behind. Having Lucas here will assure her that the team will continue to function and that she’s not delaying anything by deciding to leave. She doesn’t have to worry about anything.”
And it’s the truth. Hearing what you went through and that you’d thought of resigning several times before makes Jungkook think that you haven’t been happy here for a long while. He’s unsure if you’d always planned on leaving before the Arts Center launch, or if what happened last Friday prompted you to do this now. But still, it seemed so easy for you to make the decision, as if you can’t wait to leave him, as if being around him hurts you that much, as if you know that whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.
Jungkook spent all of last weekend replaying that night in his mind - from the way you pulled him close to you and to the way his heart broke when you pulled away. He doesn’t know what you want from him. You kissed him as if you wanted him. He felt your desire as your hands danced around his chest, as you moaned against his lips, as you thrusted against him like you wanted more, and he would’ve given it all to you, he would’ve given you everything, but the words he’d never told anyone slipped from his mouth and somehow, that’s what made you create that distance.
Perhaps it’s what made you not want to stay.
But he wouldn’t have known because he didn’t ask. At the thought of you no longer being by his side, he faltered. At the thought of losing the routine you’ve both created and the comfort you’ve been giving him everyday, he caved in. He lost all sense and just wanted to keep you. He’d disregarded every rule, crossed every boundary he created, and thought of nothing else but to be with you. He made the mistake of not thinking about you, the person he wants.
He naively believed that your expression of desire meant that nothing else mattered - you’d be with him regardless. But he realized that maybe he doesn’t know you at all. He would’ve risked everything but maybe you wouldn’t. You make him happy and that’s all he cares about but maybe he’s not enough for you. He’d do anything to be with you everyday but maybe that’s not what you want.
The thought that that moment made you realize that maybe, he’s not what you wanted after all creates another crack in his heart. That cold, stubborn heart of his hasn’t felt much in years but it betrayed him this time. It called out for you and he’s afraid to find out that it still will, after everything.
“Have you spoken to her?” Hoseok pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. “I gave her my recommendation letter, told her about Lucas replacing her, and that she still has leaves to take.”
“I meant about both of you,” Hoseok clarifies. “About what you both feel, about what that means and what happens after that.”
“What is there to talk about?” Jungkook groans. “She left me that night. I come here today with a resignation letter on my desk. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you,” Hoseok says.
“It doesn’t mean she does,” Jungkook counters. “Clearly, her happiness outside of this company is her priority. And it should be. She doesn’t have a reason to stay here anymore.”
“And what if that happiness could include you? Did you even think about that?”
“Then she could’ve said that if she wanted to. It was her decision, it was her call.”
“You think it’s that easy to say that? Then why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you feel and want?”
“I did!” Jungkook almost yells now, thankful for the thick walls of this room. “And she pulled away! She said she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t do this with me. That tells me everything I need to know, Hoseok. Whatever she feels for me isn’t that strong. I was stupid to believe an overheard conversation. I heard that she liked me and I thought, all I had to do was tell her that I felt the same way. But it wasn’t enough. I asked her to stay and she said she couldn’t. I don’t matter to her. Not in the way that she matters to me.”
“Why did she cry, then?” Hoseok asks. “Did you notice that?”
Of course Jungkook did. He’s seen you cry a few times, a sight he never wants to see again, and seeing your puffy eyes earlier made him want to just forget everything and hug you so he could help make the hurt go away. It’s something he’s wanted to do before and there’s a reason why he never did. Today, he knew that doing so would make it harder for him. So all he could do was look away.
“She wouldn’t be that upset if all this didn’t matter to her. If you didn’t matter that much to her,” Hoseok adds.
“This job mattered to her, too. You and I know how she works. Maybe there’s guilt or worry that she’s leaving at this critical time, which is why I’m trying to make the transition easy,” Jungkook reasons. “She’s leaving a lot of things and people behind and that could be hard for anyone. She’s crucial to the team but I don’t want there to be anything else that would hold her back. Not anymore.”
“But all these arrangements… it’s as if it’s so easy to replace her,” Hoseok sighs. “Are you even giving yourself time to just process all of this?”
“And then what? Give myself time to realize again that I can’t do this without her? I already know that I can’t, I can’t replace her, not in any way but I…” Jungkook heaves. “I can’t give in to those feelings and end up asking her to reconsider her decision. She has a life to live outside of this but this is mine. I have a project to launch, a name to uphold…”
A broken heart to live with, he doesn’t say.
“I don’t know what else to do but this,” he adds, his head bowing down as he pinches the corners of his eyes. He’s just trying to deal with losing you in more than one way, and trying to maintain whatever professionalism he has left after everything.
Hoseok sighs as he watches his cousin stop himself from falling apart. It’s true that everything feels so sudden. Perhaps for you, the best decision you could make after what happened last Friday is to leave and he wouldn’t fault you for that, especially after what you gave up to be here. And maybe Jungkook is just trying to deal with that pain of losing you as his assistant and the possibility of more in the way that he knows how - distance, detachment. It’s how the younger man has always chosen to deal with things he can’t control, and as someone who’s seen him try to move on from his own past, it’s hard for Hoseok to stand by and watch Jungkook hurt this way when he knows that you care about him, too.
It wasn’t always obvious, but at one point, Hoseok started to notice things; he just never questioned them. You were always competent. When you were his assistant, you paid attention to every detail and made sure that he was always at his best. But this past year, Hoseok had seen you pay attention to Jungkook in a more meaningful way. He’d seen you care for the younger man, showed him kindness that no one’s bothered to do before. And that’s done so much for him as he learned to open himself up, to allow himself to feel a different kind of vulnerability, to feel like he could be himself again, and that he’ll be accepted for all the scared and flawed parts of him.
All Hoseok can do is at least help his cousin be honest about what he feels and help him not lose you completely. But much as he wants to figure this out with Jungkook, life continues, and right now, there are some executive decisions both men have to make. So he redirects the conversation, and it’s half an hour later when they come up with a policy statement that they send to CEO Jeon as instructed.
That’s at least one other important thing that Jungkook can tick off his list. He’s determined to just focus on all work matters for today, hoping that would keep his mind off of you.
But that’s impossible when you still have a role to play in his life, as you enter his room after Hoseok exits, avoiding the older man’s worried gaze. You glance at Jungkook just once, placing a folder of documents on his desk for his signature.
He’s past the second of a dozen pages when he speaks, his eyes glued to the papers, not wanting to look at your face.
“I intend on telling the team about your resignation during tomorrow’s meeting,” he says. “I’ll release the company-wide announcement on Wednesday, followed by an email to other partners and contacts. The Arts Center launch is happening in a few weeks and we can’t have delays, so I’ll be endorsing Lucas soon after.”
“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, trying to stabilize your voice. “If you need me to draft anything—”
“There’s no need, I will do that.”
“That’s noted, sir.”
You remain standing in front of him, watching him go through each page and feeling like you could burst any moment. Somehow he seems like that man you met almost a year ago - focused yet detached, close but so far away.
“You’re also no longer required to come to my apartment every morning,” he continues. “I’ll only need you to come on Thursday so you could give Lucas your access and brief him about the building and where things are. Mr. Ri could still drive you to work until your last day.”
“That service was extended to me for the purpose of assisting you every morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice sounding firm this time. “That is no longer necessary.”
You see him stop his movements for a second before he resumes and nods in acknowledgment of your statement.
As you watch him sign the last few pages, you allow yourself a brief moment to wish that you’d just left much sooner, during a time when he wasn’t around so you didn’t have to feel this agonizing pain of him slowly slipping away. Everytime you remind yourself that you made this decision, you’re pulled back by the thought that leaving didn’t have to mean that you’d lose him completely.
But with the way he acts now, with how he’s distancing himself from you and everything you shared, you’re starting to think that maybe he’s decided on this, too - that this is goodbye and that there’s nothing for both of you after this. It’s a hard pill to swallow but one you suppose you should - this was your call and you didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with your departure as well. That’s something you can’t fault him for doing.
That leaves you with no choice but to deal with the pain, too. You don’t know exactly how. You’ve never really gone through this before. All your breakups didn’t hurt like this, probably because you knew from the beginning that they would end anyway, that you wouldn’t care more than you planned.
But Jungkook is different. You didn’t expect him to be the one you’d care for, that you’d yearn for, that you’d want with all of you. But you watch on as he slips right through your fingers, and whatever hope you had of finding your way back to him in the future withers away. This is how you lose him, and you’ll try hard to keep only the good memories with you.
He finishes signing the papers then he hands them over to you, his eyes only briefly meeting yours. He turns towards his desktop but he speaks again.
“HR requires me to have an exit interview with you,” he says. “But due to our personal circumstances, I don’t think that’s appropriate. I’ve asked Hoseok to conduct it instead. You may just schedule it with him within the next week. You’ll also be provided with a list of all the things you need to submit for your clearance. Just let me know what you need from me and I’ll work on it right away.”
It takes a while for you to respond, as you notice him slowly look your way.
“Understood, sir,” you manage to say, so softly like a breath, even you could barely hear yourself.
But the words come out, almost emotionless now as you just take in all his instructions. You gave him your letter only a few hours ago and now he’s got everything organized for your departure, almost as if he wants the complication, that is you, dealt with immediately.
You’ve disrupted his routine and messed up a lot of his plans. He’s always said he hates change, and you’ve caused one of the biggest ones he’s ever had to deal with. You don’t blame him for not wanting to do anything with you anymore.
You nod and head out, knowing that you’re slowly losing your place in his life, even as his assistant. He doesn’t call for you the rest of the day, even for coffee. You’re tempted to knock on his door and ask if there’s anything else he needs for you to do before you clock out, but you decide against it, slowly feeling like you’re no longer welcome.
You mindlessly walk out the building and down the street, feeling the weight of everything drag you down. You’d thought that finally doing this would make you feel liberated, like you’d be relieved of your burdens and even of a secret that you no longer have to keep. But as the minutes pass by, everything is just getting heavier and heavier. Your heart doesn’t loosen up, either.
And as you stare at the barely eaten sujebi from your favorite noodle house and the piece of choco pie that you bought from the convenience store that you now have no appetite to eat, you feel yourself falling apart. You don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t this. You hated doubting Jungkook’s sincerity about what he felt but now you’re faced with his seeming apathy. It makes you wonder once more if he really felt anything for you, or if he just mistook his practical need for you as something more.
Maybe you’ll never know. At this point, he’s just your boss who’s running a company and preparing to launch the biggest project of his life. All you can do is respect that and support him the best way you know how. If it’s distance he wants, then it’s what you’ll give. You suppose it’s the most you could do for him after making the decision to walk away.
Sitting in the meeting room the next day with the management support team chatting around you is a little unnerving. You try to engage with them and put on a smile that doesn’t feel real. The nervousness and guilt slowly creep in, especially when Jungkook arrives and orders for the meeting to begin.
“Before we start, I’d just like to make an important announcement,” he says, quieting everyone down as he sounds serious. “Ms. Cho has tendered her resignation and will be leaving the company in a month. I wanted to tell the team immediately so we could all work on the necessary adjustments. Lucas, my assistant during my time in Singapore, will be replacing her. I made this decision with the approval of the CEO to ensure a smooth transition. His first day will be on Thursday.”
In the silence, you look up, afraid of how the team is taking it. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have a mix of sadness and acceptance on their faces. Yohan has his head bowed down. And Do-hyun sits there, silently crying.
“Do you… do you not like us anymore?” She mumbles through her sniffles.
“Of course I do,” you say, your eyes softening. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it?” She asks. “Why… why are you leaving us? Why are you leaving Mr. Jeon?”
“I…” you start, looking at him for approval, and he nods as if to say that you’re free to say whatever you want to say. “I’ve been here for a while. This job is all I know and the years just flew right by. I feel like a new environment and a change of pace would do me good.”
Chin-sun turns to you, her look of understanding giving you the comfort that you need. She told you once that you deserve to live a life outside of work, that you need to find yourself and what makes you happy, and that she knows what that could mean. You’ve always looked up to her and how she’s handled everything in her life with such grace, and seeing her give you that nod of encouragement tells you that she gets it, and that despite the doubt that’s slowly crept in, she’s that hand on your shoulder, saying that you’re doing the right thing.
“Do you have to go this soon?” Do-hyun asks, her voice so unusually soft that it makes you feel like crying, too.
“I had initially planned on resigning after the Arts Center launch,” you say, the words hitting Jungkook as you see the way he clenches his jaw. “But the company I’ll be moving to requested for my start to be in two months. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up on, so I decided to leave early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You had emailed Namjoon last night and inquired if the production officer position is still open. He responded right away to say that it is, and that he’s been hoping for you to officially apply, so you did. He insisted that based on your resume and your mindset and approach to work that he’s picked up from your conversations, the role is meant to be yours. He scheduled an interview in the next two weeks during your forced leave - for formalities’ sake, he told you - and you can start next quarter.
“I’m just… I’m just really sorry that I’m leaving in the midst of all the preparations,” you add, your nails sinking in your skin once more as you try to deal with guilt. “Things just happened so fast and I had to make decisions right away.”
“We’re gonna be okay,” Chin-sun assures you now. “You and Mr. Jeon trained us well. You, especially. We’ve been working together for over four years and I may have been in this longer but I’ve learned so much from you, ___. This breaks my heart more than you know but I’m proud of you, and I’m happy for you. I can at least say on behalf of the team that we don’t want this decision to burden you. You’ve held the fort for everyone for so long, you deserve to pursue whatever makes you happy.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the words getting caught in your throat as you try to keep yourself from breaking down.
Chin-sun isn’t always this sentimental, so you know it means just as much to her that she’s able to say these things to you.
“I agree with her,” Manager Lee says. “It’s gonna be different and definitely hard but the team will manage. You’ve given this company so much, and I know that wherever you’ll go, they’ll be so lucky to have you. Just… just don’t forget about us, okay?”
“Never,” you assure the team this time.
“Remember when I was being stubborn and didn’t want to go to the hospital when I was sick?” Yohan speaks up, looking at you now with glassy eyes. “You took half the day off so you could drag me there and then visited me everyday after work when I was confined for a week. The doctor said things would’ve been worse if I’d gone there even just a day late.”
You remember that incident clearly. It was the month before Jungkook arrived. The entire team was busy preparing everything but you noticed that Yohan looked unwell, and you insisted on taking him to the hospital so he could get checked and you’re glad you did. You can’t imagine how things would’ve turned out if you hadn’t.
“I was trying hard to keep it in because I didn’t want to be a burden,” he continues. “But you noticed, you always do. And I’ll always be thankful. Chin-sun may be my wise auntie but you’re my ever dependable older sister and I’ll miss you so much. No one can calm me down the way you do, and no one will tell me and Do-hyun off when we’re being whiney or ungrateful. I just hope that whatever you do brings you all the peace and happiness you deserve.”
At his words, Do-hyun sobs. Covering her face, she mumbles onto her palms, muffling her words that you can’t understand. She briefly looks up at you, pouting as she catches her breath, and then she cries again. Even when she’s being emotional, her child-like way of showing it is every bit endearing.
You remember the first time you met her, a brilliant fresh graduate with so much passion and energy. She was a little too bubbly for you at the beginning. She was always curious and lacked filter most of the time. But you got to know her genuine heart, one that often sought you, that wanted to get your approval, that hoped you’d return the affection she always gave you. She was like that bratty little sister that you enjoyed looking after, and seeing her be affected this way is affecting you more than you expected. You can’t make out what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure that they’d make you cry either way.
And that’s what you’re trying hard not to do, as you bite your lips to stop them from shaking, hoping you won’t break down in front of them, especially in front of Jungkook.
Chin-sun comforts Do-hyun who’s calming down a bit now. Manager Lee and Yohan wipe their eyes. It’s a little too quiet, and you know they’re waiting for you to say something, too. Wanting to return their honesty, you start, trying to find the words that would capture everything you feel.
“You all know how much of myself I give to this job,” you start, your lips trembling as you try to get it together. “And from the beginning, I thought I would just come to work, do what I have to do, go home, and do it all over again. It’s the corporate world and we’re just trying to survive. You were all supposed to be just colleagues, people I had to just tolerate but that’s clearly not what happened. Without meaning to, you’ve all become such a big part of my life, more than I can ever express.”
You glance at Jungkook, hoping that he knows it includes him, but you see him clench his jaw and look away, and at this point, you don’t expect him to believe anything else you say, no matter how much you mean them.
“I know I’ve never been good at accepting and especially returning your affection,” you continue. “I’ve missed out on a lot of post-work dinners and weekend get-togethers. I’ve just, uh, I’ve just never been good at mixing work with my personal life. But even then, you never took it against me. You keep up with all versions of me, you encourage me when things get hard, and you never fail to let me know that I’m doing a good job. And that’s done so much for me more than you know.”
You take in deep breaths as you feel your tears dance around your eyes, and you blink to let them fall then quickly wipe them away.
“We’ve gone through so much together and I’ll always treasure all those moments and everything we shared,” you manage to say. “Leaving doesn’t change anything. At least, I hope it doesn’t.”
“Not to us,” Chin-sun assures you. “You’ll always be a part of this team.”
You mirror her smile, hoping your gratitude gets across.
The clearing of throat catches everyone’s attention, and you turn to Jungkook, remembering that you’re all gathered today for a meeting, and not some sentimental goodbye that’s turned into a cry-fest. You doubt he’d want to be around for this, so you apologize and say that he can continue on with the agenda.
“It slipped my mind that I have a call with one of the artists that Mr. Saito introduced me to,” Jungkook answers, looking at his phone then turning back to the team. “It’s in 10 minutes. We can resume tomorrow morning. It’s close to lunch anyway so you can all have your break.”
The whole team nods in acknowledgement. Except for you. He doesn’t have any scheduled calls today, as he was adamant on having this meeting done as soon as possible. He would have remembered if that call was that important and if it wasn’t, you know he wouldn’t have rescheduled this because making all the arrangements for your departure seems to be his top priority.
You suspend the thought, knowing that dwelling on how much he’s distancing himself from you will take away from the moment you shared with your team. Right now, they’re who matter. Jungkook had always insisted he wasn’t part of it, and you always disagreed. But with him stepping away, maybe he’s right.
He steps out, and with him no longer in the room, Do-hyun takes the opportunity to hug you. It’s not something you always return but today, it’s everything you need, as her warmth gives you the comfort you’ve been badly craving since last Friday. All you had was your pillow and that didn’t really do much. With Do-hyun wrapping you in her arms, you’re able to breathe, and she holds you tightly as you silently cry, as if she knows just how much it means to you to have a shoulder to cry on this time.
“Yah! Don’t cry,” she says in that mocking tone to tease you when you pull away.
Everyone laughs and you shake your head in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to cry this much.”
“Chin-sun started it,” Yohan says, earning him a nudge and a playful glare.
“I just knew it mattered that you knew that it was okay,” she says, prompting you to look at her. “We may be crying and going on about missing you and things not being the same but… what you leave behind doesn’t make your decision any less valid, or even wrong. Only you would know what doing this could do for you, and there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You mumble your thanks again, feeling a bit of weight off your shoulders with the assurance that the team will be alright without you.
Outside, Jungkook looks on as everyone gathers around you, hugging you and wiping your tears, something he held himself back from doing.
There’s no call to be had. He’d intended for today’s meeting to be about discussing the plans moving forward, the added responsibilities that each member would have as Lucas adjusts, and how they could help in his transition. Jungkook didn’t expect for it to turn out the way it did, with each person expressing their gratitude to you, comforting you, and sharing stories that show just how much you matter to them.
This is who you are - someone loved by the people around her, despite the distance she keeps. There’s just always been this warmth about you that’s reflected in your ability to notice things, in your stubbornness, and in the way that you make every person feel cared for. It’s something he always admired about you. It’s also what he likes the most about you, and for all that you are, all that warmth and comfort that you deserve aren’t things he can give. Not when he’s trying to keep his own distance, not when he’s trying to keep himself together, and not when he’s trying not to hold you back any more than he already did.
In a way, he’s glad that the team was able to express themselves to you. He likes to think that their words at least relieved you of whatever guilt you were feeling about leaving, something he’s also unable to do. They were able to assure you that they understand and only wish for your happiness. On his end, he’s ensuring that you don’t have to worry about all the work you’ll leave behind. It’s his way of telling you that it’s okay.
Jungkook steps away when he hears you start to pack up. He walks back to his room and hears the team’s plans of grabbing lunch at the dining hall then eating it at the floor’s outdoor space. Do-hyun tells you to ask him to join everyone, and Jungkook hates that he’d have to turn the invitation down. He does so by pretending to still be on a call when you peek into his room, and at this point, he’s unable to read your face.
He can’t think that you were hoping he’d join you, as he can’t feed the illusion that you still want him after everything. He’ll just believe that it was relief he saw in your eyes and that just like him, you’re creating distance because that makes it easier for both of you.
But the truth is, it doesn’t, as an hour goes by and he spends it zoning out in the midst of sending emails and coordinating with Lucas about his move. Jungkook catches sight of you from his window, seated with your chair turned around, facing the shelves. He’d seen you do that a few times - in the midst of a busy day, or that very first time after he’d gotten mad at you. He wonders what it’s about now.
Maybe it’s your decision still weighing heavy on you, or that you still have so much to do for turnover. Whatever it is, Jungkook fights the urge to go out there and ask you, to tell you that you could take a break if it’ll help. Or to hug you if that’s what you need.
At this moment, he lets himself wish that the world would just suspend for a while and he could do all that without any consequences. He wishes you’re both in some alternative universe where you’re still you and he’s still him but without the baggage, without the secrets, without the intertwined past. He wishes he could just be with you without any of the burden nor the doubts, and you could just go on and be honest with what you both want, and feel what you feel with no reservations, and that all that would be enough.
There’s so much he wants to do for you but he can’t let himself be weak this time. You made your decision and he won’t hold you back. What he’ll do is try to make things easy for you, although the sullenness in your eyes - that he briefly sees when you turn around to face your desk - tells him that it doesn’t seem like it’s working.
But detachment is all he knows when it comes to things he can’t control. He can’t control you with the decision you made. He can't control how he’s taking it. And even after all that, he still can’t control the way he feels or the way his heart breaks seeing you like this.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
You look up from your desktop to a pair of questioning eyes, and you fumble for your tea and ask why he’s asking.
“Just curious,” Yoongi shrugs. “Jungkook’s been cross-copying Lucas in some of our emails and I don’t recall that ever happening before.”
You glance at your screen, seeing the messages that have the said man now looped in, all just today.
“Uh, yeah. Jungkook’s including him in the communications already,” you answer. “I… I tendered my resignation yesterday, Yoongi. I leave in a month.”
You knew that Yoongi would always be supportive. So many times before, he’d asked you how you imagined your life to be and what you were going to do once you thought your time in the company was over. He’d talked about his own plans, too, like opening up his own architectural firm in Daegu because that was always going to be his home. You knew that when the time came, he’d be proud of you because it would be your decision, and the look on his face right now tells you that he is.
“You finally did it,” he smiles. “How does it feel?”
“A lot of things,” you sigh, not wanting to give too much away. Not here at least. “There’s just a lot to think about. Maybe when I take one of my remaining leaves, it’ll finally sink in.”
“And how’s Jungkook taking it?”
You’re about to answer, trying to formulate in your head how you can explain how Jungkook has been. But it’s that moment when said man opens his door with papers in hand, his eyes flitting from Yoongi to you. You ask him if there’s anything he needs but he shakes his head and says he can handle it before closing the door. You stare at it for a while, hoping he’d come back out and say that he does need you to do something, but he doesn’t.
“I guess not well,” Yoongi points out, prompting you to return your gaze to him.
“He is, actually,” you counter. “He accepted my resignation with no questions asked, gave me a recommendation letter, organized everything for my replacement, told me to take my remaining leaves… he hasn’t given me more workload than I expected. He just wants me to focus on turning things over.”
“And that’s ‘taking it well’ for you?” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow.
“Well, he hates change. The last time that happened and he got shipped to Seoul but couldn’t bring his old assistant with him, he acted out. We both know how that went,” you say. “And now I’m causing another big change. We had a routine going. The Arts Center opens in less than two months. And then I decided to leave. He could be letting out his anger and frustration on me but he isn’t.”
“Hmm,” Yoongi hums.
After knowing you for 10 years, he’s come to realize that you have your ways of coping with things. So does Jungkook.
“I think I know what he’s doing,” he continues, earning him a questioning look from you. “He’s distancing himself. How else does he deal with anything that hurts or terrifies him? He’s losing you, ___. Even just from a professional standpoint, that’s a lot for him. On a personal level, even more.”
You look away, not wanting to think about the implications of Yoongi’s last statement. He picks it up, knowing that it’s probably hard for you to talk about right now.
“You may not agree, but you’re important to him,” he adds. “If you think this is easy for him, I’m telling you now that it isn’t. You know him. He’s… he’s not good at expressing how he feels. He just shuts everyone out. It’s his default. Even if the person he’s pushing away is probably the one he needs the most.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” you sigh.
You relate with Yoongi’s statement though. You pushed Jungkook away when all you wanted was to have him close. You decided to leave the company even though you hoped you could be with him. You may mean a lot to each other but it also doesn’t mean it’s enough.
“Is it really?” He questions.
When you really think about it, it shouldn’t. Jungkook likes you. You like him. For two people who are used to being on their own, finding comfort and strength in each other and then wanting that to last is simple. But how you both got here isn’t. You kept a secret from him that may have tainted his trust in you. He pursued you in a way that made you doubt his sincerity. You’re unsure how both of you could navigate all that, especially given the way you are.
Your silence prompts Yoongi to say that you don’t have to tell him anything, but that he’s there should you need anyone to talk to. He leaves, and suddenly, the silence is too loud.
The rest of the afternoon feels too long, with time ticking by so slowly. You always liked how your desk was separated from everyone else, as it gives you the peace and quiet you need to focus on your tasks. You’re also accessible to the VP, which makes everything easier and more efficient. But now, you hate it. There’s no sound but your thoughts ringing at you that you hear. And there’s no Jungkook calling for you to give you things to do.
Not speaking to him nor seeing him makes your day incomplete. You used to enjoy your shared moments, like when you’d enter his room with his cup of coffee and you’d remind him to take a break. All those times when you’d make him sign documents, with him groaning at something he’s frustrated about and then telling you what you can do after you ask if you can help him with something. Those instances where he’d look through portfolios on your shelf and do small talk with you, and those times you thought he just needed a break or a friendly smile or a hum of encouragement.
It’s only been the second day but there’s none of those now, and you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. You let yourself be selfish for once by resigning. But you feel even more selfish by wishing he didn’t act so unaffected, that he’d still ask for you after what you’re putting him through.
You clock out at 6, initially considering letting Jungkook know but then deciding against it, knowing that his nonchalance will just cause a crack in your heart. The rest of your evening feels lonely even with your variety TV show on, so does your commute to work the next morning that you now have to get used to. It didn’t feel right to still have Mr. Ri drive for you, even though he messaged and insisted that he still could.
It’s Wednesday, and there’s something about the middle of the week that makes you feel uneasy - the week is halfway done; it feels like it flew by but it also can’t end fast enough. There are documents on your desk for review and some emails that you need to get to, but Mrs. Myung calling to say that CEO Jeon wants to see you is what does your head in. You suppose he’d want to speak with you at one point; you just weren’t prepared for it to be today.
The CEO’s office is like a personal museum, with photos and blueprints framed on the walls and miniature replicas of some of the company’s earliest infrastructure being displayed in the large room. The view of the city is stunning from all angles, and you can only imagine how much creativity it inspires. You’re still unsure how he thinks about you, but you bow shyly once he greets you and you take your seat when he asks you to.
“Jungkook said he’ll be announcing your resignation today,” the man says. “It seems that he has everything organized already and ready for your departure.”
“He has, Mr. Jeon,” you confirm. “I feel quite bad that I’m not helping him with the arrangements. He, uh, he seems to have wanted to handle all of it all on his own.”
“Well, he’s pressed for time. He had to make quick decisions with the Arts Center opening in a few weeks.”
“I… I apologize for leaving at such a critical time,” you say, bowing your head in shame once more. “I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You made a decision that was best for you. I guess I was just in denial that you’d do it so soon, or at least before the Center is revealed. You’ve worked hard on that, too. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to let that go as well.”
You look up and see the gentleness in his eyes, the same ones that looked at you the first time you met him - in this room, over 20 years ago. He was a stranger to you, but he was kind. There wasn’t much you remember from that day nor that period, but you’ll always remember the soft way he greeted you and introduced himself.
You look back at the years after that. He didn’t reach out much but you still felt him looking out for you and your mom. When you entered the company as an intern, he had that look of recognition, and then of pride.
Working here all these years, you’ve seen him be the critical, perfectionist, and passionate man that he is. People stopped what they were doing when he entered the room, they listened when he spoke, he commanded fear and respect, but you’ve seen his moments of tenderness and empathy, too. This is a man who commits himself to everything he does, something his son took after him. It’s probably why with his years of experience, he knows that for you, walking away from the project you poured your soul into is just as hard.
“It’s a sad parting, I would say. But I know it will turn out just as beautiful as your son had hoped. He really put his everything into that and I’m glad I got to see it almost completed,” you say, having visited the site not long ago. “Though I’ll no longer be here when the rest of the world sees it, I know it’ll give him that satisfaction and pride that he managed to bring to life all that he envisioned.”
“I don’t know about satisfaction and pride if you’re not around,” Mr. Jeon hums. “You’re leaving a big hole in his life, ___. And I don’t mean that just professionally.”
You turn away, unsure if you’re ready to address your feelings for Jungkook in front of his father.
“Looking back now, I was being selfish to you all these years,” he continues. “You had a hard time when you first started and that all happened under my watch. I encouraged you to apply for that EA position because I knew that Hoseok would choose you by your own merit, and he would treat you well. He would train and mentor you and I selfishly hoped that my family would be redeemed in your eyes. And Jungkook… he… he reminded me of myself when I was younger. And you had the spirit of your mother,” he adds, his eyes softening at the mention of her. “You had her heart and I hoped… I hoped that whatever gentleness you’d show my son would allow him to heal a little. It was unfair of me to give you that responsibility, especially given how he treated you at the beginning. I’m so sorry, ___. I feel like I was holding you back and I never intended that.”
“Please don’t apologize, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your eyes blurring a little with his honesty. “I still made the decision to stay every time. Even when it was hard. I… I wanted to show my gratitude to your family for what you’ve done for us. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
“None of that,” he shakes his head. “It wasn’t just about absolving myself of the guilt for what your mom had to go through because of me, which was bad enough in the first place. But I… I knew it was the only way I could thank her, that I could apologize. If there was a way I could help both of you rebuild your lives, I would.”
“And you did,” you assure him. “We were safe. We made good memories in Busan. We now have a good home back in Daegu. I got to study and build myself and experience all these things. And I… I got to meet your son. And I got to see his heart. And I’ll always keep that with me, regardless of how things turned out.”
“Does this mean that you and him aren’t… uh—”
“It was unprofessional to cross the line, Mr. Jeon,” you bow your head. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
“I’m not angry. I guess I should’ve expected it. I’d accept my wife calling me a matchmaker if only it was true,” he laughs dryly. “Jungkook cares about you. And I know that you care about him. You’ve resigned now. You’re… you’re free.”
“I didn’t decide to leave so I could be with him, sir. I mean, that wasn’t the primary intention,” you try to explain. “I… I always knew I would, but doing this soon is because I’m unsure how to continue with my role given what happened. I hope I’ve clarified that.”
“Is this it, then? Is this goodbye for you and him?”
“I… I still hope I’ll see him one day, perhaps when we’ve forgiven each other, when we’ve come to understand the decisions that we made, and once we’ve come to terms with them,” you say. “I’m unsure when that would be. But I hope I’ll have the chance to congratulate him and to tell him I’m happy for him.”
“Goodbyes aren’t always for good,” Mr. Jeon says. “I’d like to believe that we cross paths with people for a reason, that we lose them for a reason, and that we find them again for a reason.”
“That’s not such a bad thought,” you smile. “I suppose that every person I lost for good was for a reason. If I find my way back to Jungkook… it should be for a good reason, too.”
“Of course. And I also mean that for us,” he smiles back. “Please don’t become a stranger. You mean a lot to our family, ___. How your mother helped me and how you helped our son will not be forgotten. Thank you.”
“Likewise, sir. You and Mrs. Jeon have helped us so much. Even Mr. Ri. I… I owe a lot to him as well.”
“You should already know he has a soft spot for you. That man treats you like family.”
You smile to yourself, thinking of how Mr. Ri has looked out for you all these years. He sacrificed a lot, too, and that feeling of safety that he gave you and your mother changed everything for you, even if it took everything from him. But he never wavered, as he made sure to visit you regularly when you were growing up. You suppose he had to hold back once you started working for the company and especially for Jungkook, given the secret you both kept, but Mr. Ri has been showing that same care to you now that the truth is out.
“Did… did you know about him and my mom?” You wonder.
“I did,” Mr. Jeon nods. “It was hard not to. Byung-hun was always serious and expressionless but his eyes always softened whenever she was around. She’s why he even smiled. But… decisions had to be made. I’ll always be sorry for what could’ve been.”
“It’s a love that lives on, though,” you say. “He’s been such a big help to me these past few days.”
“That’s good. You can always count on him. He’ll do anything for you, you should know that. It’s how he keeps their memories alive.”
It’s a nice thought, as you let the older man’s words settle. Love may not always be returned but the beauty is in how it’s expressed, in that it’s received regardless, and that it’s remembered.
You didn’t expect for the talk with CEO Jeon to be as emotional and uplifting as it was. You suppose that all these years, you both were just trying to make it up to each other, to compensate for something that was given and for something that was taken away. Maybe he needed this closure, too, for him to know that you’ve always forgiven him, and that after everything, you’re grateful for what his family has done for you.
Letting out a sigh of relief that at least he’s not angry at you, you return to your tasks. You organize some documents then enter Jungkook’s room to request his signature, immediately spotting some of those he’d already signed from yesterday.
You avoid his eyes again, and you only hope he doesn’t see the sadness in yours when you hear the conversation he’s currently having.
“Is the apartment okay?” He says on the phone.
It’s Lucas, you assume. He’s scheduled to arrive today and is probably settling down first.
“Yeah, just take your time. But don’t forget to be at my penthouse tomorrow,” Jungkook continues. “Ms. Cho will be there to brief you. I’ll see you at 7:00.”
He puts the phone down and retrieves the folder with all the files you set on his desk while you review the ones he just signed. Moments like this used to be spent on friendly banter or some questions on his end, but there’s none of that now. There’s just the sound of the pen gliding on the sheet and the flipping of pages filling the tense-filled air in the room. He hands you back the folder and you’re forced to look at him to say your thanks.
“Please be at my apartment tomorrow at 7. Mr. Ri can take you there, I’m sure he’ll insist,” Jungkook says.
“Yes. Mr. Jeon,” you reply, your eyes focused on his desk.
“And prepare the conference room for the postponed team meeting. We start in 15 minutes.”
You confirm his instructions and quickly head out. You gather everyone - and receive another hug from Do-hyun that you hadn’t realized you’ve been needing so much - then proceed to the room as instructed.
Emotions are managed this time, with no more tearful goodbyes and sentimental speeches unlike the day before. Jungkook gets straight to the point by laying out the plans for Lucas’ onboarding and the division of tasks for the Arts Center opening. You’re primarily assigned to handle the former, as you’ll be turning over all of your responsibilities to him, including all documents, schedules, and contacts. Your facilitative role for the major project is divided between the rest of the team, and as you add the growing list of deliverables and other things you’re in charge of, you’re reminded just how hard you’ve been working for this, too.
CEO Jeon was right. You’re not just walking away from your job; you’re walking away from something that you’ve started to believe in and be passionate about yourself. In a way, Jungkook gave that to you, and you’ll always be grateful that he let you be a part of it.
The melancholic feeling stays with you for the rest of the day. You find yourself lingering on people and things and moments, as if capturing them so you can keep them in your memory.
You do that, too, during lunchtime with the team as you laugh at the stories and incidents you recall that only all of you know. You do it while replying to the dozens of messages you receive after the announcement, with some of the other assistants calling you and expressing their sadness. You do it as well when you email Jungkook another memo he has asked you to draft. And then again when you peek through the window while he’s busy working on perhaps some other design, the image of him focused being etched in your mind until you sleep that night.
You have to let go, you tell yourself; that was the point of resigning. You’re free, like what CEO Jeon said. While you never likened being in this company to a prison, there’s something liberating about stepping back from what you’ve known for years and realizing that you enjoyed it, too, that it gave you a certain kind of happiness and satisfaction, and a special feeling that only you could have.
Jungkook was someone who gave you all that as well, even if it was all fleeting. But then again, you don’t think anything really is. The things and people and emotions and moments you encounter all stay with you in one way or another. For that instance, you had them and they had you. Perhaps that’s the beauty of it - they may not stay but they will always linger.
You enter the car the next morning with the scent of freshly baked pastry. Your eyes light up when you see the iced coffee, prompting Mr. Ri to let out a soft laugh and say that he picked them up on the way for you.
“Jungkook’s got a packed day so I doubt he’d have time for breakfast and I assumed that meant you, too,” he adds.
“Not really,” you sigh. “He’s keeping me to just turnover duties for my last weeks here. I doubt I’d be that busy. But breakfast is good. I woke up late so I managed to only grab some fruits.”
“I think he just doesn’t want you to be stressed. Saying goodbye is hard enough.”
“I suppose… I guess I just hoped things would slow down a bit. But then again, I’m the one who abruptly resigned,” you say. “No one was afforded time to process things, including me.”
“It will sink in soon enough,” he hums. “Especially once you see how things change.”
“They have,” you whisper, the sullenness in your eyes letting the other man know just how much. “And I have no right to wish they didn’t, at least not this fast.”
“Oh, ___,” Mr. Ri turns to you with a sad smile. You can’t imagine him being the cold and stoic man that CEO Jeon had described, one who only softened when your mother was around. “You do. Standing by our decisions means that we accept whatever the consequences are, not that we can’t wish they were different. I’m pretty sure Jungkook feels that way, too. He’s dealing with you leaving, but it doesn’t mean he wishes you had to. And maybe… deep in your heart, you wished that not staying in the company didn’t have to mean not being with him.”
It’s a thought you’ve had for a long time, but one you don’t want to acknowledge. There’s a lot of things you’re still scared to face, including just how much you want him. You’re afraid to break, to want to take it all back, and to realize just how much you’re losing by letting all this go.
And like the family he’s come to be, Mr. Ri reminds you that this pain you’re feeling is part of the process of finding the happiness you’ve been yearning for.
“Sometimes we have to lose things for something so much better,” he comforts. “‘Better’ could be a person or a state of mind. In your case, I think it’s discovering that kind of strength you didn’t know you had; it’s that freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise felt even if you got together with Jungkook. For as long as you’re in the company, you’ll always feel burdened and that something’s missing at the same time. You always needed this. And I should’ve encouraged you to be braver a long time ago.”
“Then I wouldn’t have met him,” you say immediately, the thought breaking you, even if you tried to convince yourself it was better that you didn’t. “He and I have pasts that intertwine and if we never met then there… there would be nothing of him I’d carry, there’d be no trace of him in me.”
But you did meet. And now there’s Jungkook in you - in your bravery, in your strength, in your silence. He’s in your appreciation for art and design and love for disposable cameras and capturing good memories. You carry him with you, and the thought makes things hurt a little less. Maybe all that is why you got the courage to walk away in the first place. Maybe those could push you to find him again, too.
You’re deep in your head that you don’t realize you’re already at Jungkook’s building until Mr. Ri is calling your name. You exit, and right at the entrance, you see a well-dressed man with a bright yellow helmet on one hand and a scooter on the other, his smile brightening his whole face as he greets you. He’s Lucas, he says, and you’d almost forgotten the purpose of why you’re back here after almost a week.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Cho. Although I wish it were for happier reasons,” he says, his face softening.
“It’s happy enough,” you smile. “You’re living abroad like you said you wanted to, and this is career advancement for you. They’re all good things.”
“I suppose so. Although I didn’t really get to prepare myself much. I’m quite nervous, if I’m being honest.”
You pass over your access cards to him and let him go through the building’s security process. It’s another way you’re letting go of Jungkook, you think, and there’s more of that melancholic feeling, as memories of all your mornings here fly through your mind.
“You’ve been with Mr. Jeon longer than I have, Lucas. You know how he works,” you tell him. “Sure, there are added responsibilities as the Vice President’s EA but you’ll learn them through experience. You have the skills good enough to be his assistant in the first place. And he’s… he’s good at what he does. He’s good to people. Those should make things easier for you.”
“Hmm that’s true,” he replies, as you both head towards the elevator. “He seems a lot calmer than I’m used to. And more poised. And— I don’t know if I can say this but, more considerate, I suppose. He made sure everything was organized for my move. He checked on me when I arrived. He even got me a scooter because my old one was a bit rusty already.”
You smile to yourself. They’re simple things, and it makes you think that maybe Jungkook used to not show much care to his staff. Lucas doesn’t seem to hold resentment of any kind, so you suppose Jungkook just gave or did the bare minimum. If your relationship with him somehow influenced this kinder and perhaps softer version of him, then meeting you wasn’t so bad for him either.
Lucas rambles a little as he talks about being anxious working with all the bosses, and you wish there was a way that you could ease his worries. You understand it. You were in his shoes once, and you hope that your mentorship of him during this turnover period will be enough.
“All that to say that I have large shoes to fill,” he adds. “And I just don’t want to disappoint him.”
“And you won’t,” you assure the younger man as you reach Jungkook’s floor. “You’re gonna be fine and the team is gonna support you. So will he, so you just do what you can and things will fall into place.”
Lucas sighs in relief and smiles. It’s the most you can do for now and you hope at least for today, it’s enough.
You enter Jungkook’s apartment and a feeling of sadness rushes through you. Everything looks the same and it’s much too quiet than you’re used to.
You tell Lucas what you normally do and he says that Jungkook’s doing away with breakfast.
“He knows I fast so we never really had meals in the morning,” Lucas says. “But it’s nice you got to prepare them for him. He was always too busy and didn’t realize he hadn't had anything to eat until past lunch time.”
You nod, realizing that you probably created that routine you both had. Jungkook used to just always go straight to business but at least with you, he was able to slow down a little and enjoy a meal. You’d come to like those moments, you smile to yourself. He felt a little more human to you then.
You go through Jungkook’s usual schedule and give Lucas a list of numbers to call, like his house cleaner and cook. There are other routines you share, and the young man starts to take note, as some of them are new due to Jungkook’s role.
It’s not long after when the man himself shows up, walking into the kitchen donned in a dark blue suit. You reflexively take a step forward, ready to fix his crooked tie, but then you realize that this is one routine you’ve stopped doing for a while, so you put your hand down and bow to him in greeting.
Jungkook just nods at you and then asks Lucas how the move was and if everything’s okay. The young man answers accordingly, with just enough information to not prolong the conversation.
“It’s gonna be a hectic couple of weeks so it’s good you’ve settled in,” Jungkook says. “Have you gone through the building’s security process? Do you have access to my apartment now?”
“Yes, sir. Ms. Cho has briefed me about all of that,” Lucas says.
“Good,” Jungkook nods. “I’ll just grab my things and we can go. We’ll run through yesterday’s meeting and my schedule for the remainder of the week in the car.”
He walks towards his study to get his bag while you and Lucas stay behind.
“Aren’t you gonna fix his tie?” You whisper to the man next to you.
“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Lucas asks, turning to Jungkook and looks intently at his outfit.
“The knot is slightly to the right,” you point out.
Lucas takes a few seconds to answer before he nods in agreement. “I don’t really fix it but I could tell him.”
You’re all in the elevator and with Lucas looking a bit antsy, Jungkook asks him what’s wrong.
“Your… your tie is slightly to the right, sir,” Lucas says.
It prompts Jungkook to face the mirror, adjusting it himself numerous times until he figures it out. Turning around, with his eyes flitting to you, he asks, “is this alright?”
You nod, feeling the distance once again.
Jungkook used to look at you in a way that always seemed to be more during this shared moment, with words and feelings unsaid, and you realize that so did you. It’s such a simple thing - fixing his suit, but it’s seconds where it’s all quiet and it’s just your breaths sharing space, your glances meeting, maybe your hearts beating a little too fast, a little too loud.
But there’s none of that now. There’s just distance and it’ll get farther as time passes by, especially once all three of you make it to the car and you know, next to him is no longer the place you should be. You take the passenger seat, feeling unfamiliar when you hear his voice right behind you.
Jungkook goes on about Lucas’ new role to include preparing his clothes for the week, which means styling him accordingly. It’s a task the younger man says makes him nervous, but Jungkook assures him.
“Just make sure the clothes match and that I don’t look ridiculous. And that, uh, my tie isn’t crooked.”
Lucas chuckles and says he’s up for the challenge before the conversation switches to the meetings today and tomorrow. Jungkook asks you questions and you fill in some other details. You’re not as on top of his schedule as you used to be, and he instructs that for the meetings after the turnover to Lucas, you’ll no longer be required to attend. You have leaves to take, Jungkook reminds you, and given that you’re set to start work elsewhere soon, having some time off would be good.
“All noted, sir,” you say, and despite how you feel, you also agree.
You arrive at the office and Lucas is promptly introduced to the team. He’s received well, as he’s able to match the young ones’ energy and you see the respect he has for the rest, including you. You already know he’s going to do well, and you make a mental note to tell Bitna and Mrs. Myung to look after him as well, the same thing you told Mr. Ri to do.
While Lucas fixes his documents with HR, you decide to bring Jungkook a cup of coffee and some biscuits, unsure if he’s had any breakfast yet. He promptly looks up from his desk when you enter, nodding in acknowledgement when you place them on his desk.
“Lucas is a fast learner and he’s good with people,” Jungkook says, surprising you, as you hadn’t expected him to start a conversation. “He just needs to work on being a leader and holding the team together. You’re… you’re very good at that. I know it’s a short time but I hope it’s something you could teach him.”
It takes a while for you to respond. Even if his tone is not the soft one you’ve gotten used to, his words still hold warmth in them - towards Lucas. And towards you.
“I… I will, sir. And if it means anything, I think he’ll do well. He’s got good people looking out for him, including you.”
You want to return his kind words, but you also want to remind him that despite how you both started, he stood by your side and guided you. And that helped you be even more confident and capable in what you do. You hope it’s something you’re able to tell him, in a more truthful and vulnerable way he deserves, but there’s no place for that now. Yet the way he nods tells you that maybe he knows, and as you hold his gaze for a little longer than usual, you hope you’re also able to say a bit more.
That you miss your mornings together. That days don’t feel the same without his soft laughter. That you’ve almost forgotten how his smile looks like. That there’s so much of him you want to keep even though you shouldn’t. That you hope he wishes, just like you, that you’d find your way back to him someday even if right now, you have to do this.
The knock on the door signals that your shared moment has passed and you’re unsure if any of that reached him. Maybe not, as he turns away and just nods.
Lucas enters, and you remind him of that building tour you said you’d give. He’s been to the office three times but only in the conference hall, so you decide to take him around before that meeting with the design department in an hour. Do-hyun will cover for both of you while you’re away, so Jungkook tells you to advise her that he won’t be taking any calls or visitors in the meantime.
You nod, and Jungkook watches you walk out the door as he keeps himself steady like always, holding himself back from wanting you to stay a little longer, from asking how you’re doing, from taking you in his arms like he’s been wanting to do for days.
It’s hard having to act like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t break his heart seeing the sadness in your eyes with how he’s taking your departure. While that overheard conversation told him that you planned on leaving, he wasn’t ready for you to do it so soon. Perhaps he should’ve expected it - you both kissed and he went ahead and said the words he’d never said before, and that’s what caused you to push him away and decide that you didn’t want anything to do with him despite how you feel.
He doesn’t know if you ever planned on telling him the truth about who you are. He doesn’t know what your plans have always been and what they are now. He doesn’t know what you’re feeling and how you’re dealing with all these goodbyes. He supposes if he’d asked first, maybe things would have turned out differently, and you wouldn’t be leaving this way. Maybe he wouldn’t be hating himself for detaching so quickly and so certainly, as if he isn’t missing everything about you, as if he isn’t wishing that he could just hold you in his arms and have you stay there.
It took everything in him not to fall apart when he saw your resignation letter. You’d been so certain and after what he learned, he didn’t want to hold you back anymore. He hoped you’d at least want to talk about what you felt, or perhaps assure him that leaving the company doesn’t mean leaving him for good. He kissed you and you kissed him back. And he can’t wrap his head around how you could do that and then so easily decide that being with him isn’t what you want.
It’s all too much, and the only thing he knows he could do for you is make the departure less difficult by making sure that you have nothing to worry about what you’re leaving behind. He made the executive decision to get Lucas, and it wasn’t hard getting his father’s approval this time around. Jungkook organized the whole move and all other turnover matters so that you wouldn’t be bothered by them. He recommended that you take your remaining leaves so you’d get some rest before you move on to your next job, wherever that is. He didn’t want you to be burdened by the extra tasks you have to do for him, including going to his apartment every morning.
But disengaging with you, distancing himself… those are for his benefit. And for you, too, as he doesn’t want to linger and then be foolish by asking you to reconsider, or telling you that he still wants you, that he meant everything he said about what he feels, and that he wishes you’d assure him of your sincerity and tell him you want him just as much. Acting unaffected is the only way that he can maintain that sense of control, the one he lost when he decided to be honest with you and give in to his desires.
He knows it’s not ideal but he doesn’t know how else to give you the freedom you deserve while wanting you next to him. A part of him holds onto the hope that you want that, too - to unburden yourself while being with him. He’d seen the sadness in your eyes these past days and he wants to think it’s because of the distance he’s creating, or because you miss him, too. He’s noticed your glances and lingering looks, he’d seen you stop yourself from fixing his tie this morning, and there’s a softness in your voice that’s different from how it usually is.
But much as he has a lot to say, he also doesn’t know how to. He’s afraid that if he tries, you’ll push him away again, maybe further this time that he won’t know how to get you back. He’s afraid that you���ll look at him differently, that you’d think he doesn’t care about what you want, or that you’ll realize that it’s just not going to work. He doesn’t like what’s happening but he doesn’t think he’s ready for what would happen if he does anything else.
So he stays where he is, close enough to see you, but not enough to feel your presence. Every second that he’s without you, he feels himself slipping away. He wants to give in but he knows he can’t, so he decides to do the only thing he knows - pull back, distance himself, disengage.
He tells himself to just focus on the tasks at hand, that there are a lot more things that require his full attention, and it helps somehow. He presides over the meetings with the design team and then with marketing with few distractions. He sees you from his periphery taking minutes just as Lucas does, but Jungkook doesn’t comment on it. He just goes from one meeting to the next, one call to another one, and one email to a dozen more.
The day is almost over before he knows it, as the knock on the door pulls him away from the budget report he’s reviewing. It’s a little disorienting seeing Lucas once it opens. That used to be you - asking if there’s anything else he needs before you head home. And Jungkook would often take a while to answer just to keep you a little longer before letting you go, even if he’s assured that he’ll see you again in the morning - in his kitchen preparing him a meal, the start of a routine that’s become the best part of his day.
But it’s not you standing by his doorway now. And it won’t be you who’ll be in his penthouse in the morning. You won’t be asking if he got to rest well. You won’t be standing close to him as you fix his outfit, your eyes focused on the creases of his top while his eyes are focused on you. You won’t surprise him with fried rice or fancy-looking eggs on toast while you sneak glances at him to see if he enjoyed it, which he always does. You won’t be there to tease or bicker with him, and he won’t see your warm smile whenever he laughs or teases back.
He doesn’t know how he survived the week without all of that. He knows he’ll have to learn how to get through everyday with that big, empty space you’re leaving. And he’s terrified that he’ll get used to it; the last thing he wants is to forget how it felt when you were still around.
“Mr. Jeon?” Lucas calls out again, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. “I’m heading home. What time did you want me to be at your penthouse tomorrow morning?”
It’s silly but Jungkook feels protective of his mornings with you. If he’ll no longer have it, then he’ll just live in the memory by himself. So he tells Lucas to be at his place at 7:30 AM, right before they leave.
“Understood, sir. I’ll see you then.”
Jungkook bids him goodbye and returns to his task, but he’s too distracted by the silence so he decides to go home. He enters the car, feeling the tiredness weigh his body down - not only does he stay up to work, he also wakes up early to do his workout. It’s only been a week but it’s catching up to him, and the deep sigh he releases catches Mr. Ri’s attention.
“You should get proper rest,” the older man advises. “You’re gonna get sick at the rate you’re going.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“I should ask ___ to tell you to slow down. She knows how to make you listen, doesn’t she?”
“That’s not necessary,” Jungkook sighs, even if he knows it’s the truth.
You had a calming way of telling him to take a pause, and he always listened because it’s you.
“Then you better listen to me,” Mr. Ri says, eyeing him from the rearview mirror. “You need to be at your best these next few weeks and you won’t be if you push yourself too hard. You have a team that has your back. It’s all going to work out.”
“That’s exactly what she would say,” Jungkook shakes his head, suddenly hearing your voice in his head.
“I know. And I bet you that she’d say it even more if she sees how you are now. You need to rest, Jungkook. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says in submission, deciding that he’ll just buy food on the way home and then call it a night. But the mention of your name has his mind going to you again. “Did… did she eat breakfast?” Jungkook asks.
“She did, and she liked it,” Mr. Ri responds. “You know, she still would’ve eaten it even if I said that you asked me to get those pastries for her. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“It would have. She’ll know it was from me.”
“And? Just because she’s leaving, it doesn’t mean you have to stop showing her that you care. And it doesn’t mean that she stopped caring, either.”
At Jungkook’s silence, the older man continues.
“Why do you do that? Why hide behind your pain? Why make excuses for what you feel about her? You think it’s easier that way?” he presses. “You think it helps you and her when you act like it doesn’t affect you?”
“She pushed me away, okay? What do you expect me to feel?”
“But she still cares about you, at least acknowledge that.”
“But I want her to want me,” Jungkook raises his voice, surprising himself with the burst of emotion he didn’t expect. “I don’t just want her to care. I… I want her to be with me. But she has a life to live beyond all this, and I don’t think she wants me to be a part of that.”
Mr. Ri turns to Jungkook with sad eyes, unable to say anything else. He doesn’t know what kind of comfort the younger man needs. It starts and ends with you, it seems, and perhaps that’s expected. After Jungkook’s breakup with Chaerin, he kept his heart guarded and didn’t bother to let anyone have a peek. All encounters were shallow, all attempts at getting him to share himself were futile. Until you. And now that he’s shared a little bit of himself, with you turning away from it, he feels exposed and bare, and he has to build his walls back up again.
Mr. Ri gets to witness it this time, and his heart breaks for the younger man, too. Having heard both sides, he knows that Jungkook respects your decision and wants to be with you. Those can coexist. He also knows that you want to be free from the ties that bind you to this family and want to be with him. Those can coexist as well. But he knows, more than anyone, that you’ll both have to make a decision, and you’ll both have to learn to do that.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Jungkook. And I can’t tell her, either,” the older man sighs. “You’ll have to figure things out on your own and decide what you want to do because that’s the only way you’ll get to stand by your choices.”
It’s a piece of advice that Jungkook should follow, even if all he wants is for someone to tell him what to do. But perhaps that’s also hard if he can’t make sense of everything that he feels. And it’s both of you suffering at the end of it.
He stays quiet for the rest of the ride, wanting to just shut out his thoughts even if there are hundreds of them swimming in his mind. When Mr. Ri asks him where he wants to grab his dinner, Jungkook can’t decide and ends up going to a convenience store instead. He sighs to himself as he realizes the memories that’ll come up by being here; he wants to escape thoughts of you, but he still ends up thinking about you whatever he does, as if his mind and body gravitate towards you without realizing it.
He buys instant noodles and some snacks. He munches on choco pie during the ride back to his penthouse and remembers the way you smiled when you ate it that night when he stayed with you. It’s an image he keeps until he falls asleep, and there’s that empty feeling again when he wakes up in the morning.
Lucas arrives that Friday as instructed and they leave for the office right away. They talk about the Arts Center and the schedule for the day, and they arrive at the building at the same time that you do.
It’s a little tense sharing the elevator with you this time, especially as he formally greets you as if he wasn’t torturing himself with the thought of you all night. But you smile and act cordial, choosing to let the silence engulf all three of you and just deal with it.
There are virtual meetings he has to attend, and Jungkook multitasks while reviewing some reports that are on his desk. There are some things he knows he needs to sign, so he calls your phone and asks them where they are.
You walk inside his room with a folder of documents and promotional materials for his approval, setting them on his desk and explaining that Lucas was going to bring them in after he was done speaking with HR.
You watch as Jungkook, with scrunched eyebrows, goes through each sheet of paper. There’s so much tension on his face and his entire body, and you wonder if he’s been resting properly. Perhaps not, as you see the dark circles under his eyes.
“You don’t have to wait for Lucas to give these to me,” Jungkook says. “You still have that responsibility. You’re still my assistant.”
There’s no anger in his voice but you can’t help but feel defensive. He’s instructed you to focus on turning over files and functions, after all.
“Am I?” You find the courage to question him. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what I’m only here for.”
Jungkook is taken aback by your words, not expecting you to say them with a mix of sadness and bitterness. But he answers back, unable to control himself this time.
“And you’ve made yourself perfectly clear on what you want. And what you don’t want,” he says, more bitterly than he intended.
Your face falls, and he hates himself for making you feel like this, so he backtracks.
“I’m just… trying to make things easier for you,” he reasons, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the papers. “There are lots of things to turn over and I prefer that you just focus on them. I need Lucas to know what to do because you always did, and that’s a big loss for the team. It’s not my intention to undermine you or… make you feel like I’m replacing you. I know I won’t be able to,” he says boldly. “You’re leaving and I’m just trying to deal with it the best way I know how.”
You look at him and see the mix of frustration and sadness on his face. This is all on you, and you hate that you don’t know what to do about it. So you accept his words in submission.
“I understand, sir,” you say, almost like a whisper. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
You bow then head out, leaving Jungkook rooted in his seat like always, knowing that a second more and he would’ve called you back, even if he doesn’t know what he’d say, just so he could be around you a few seconds longer.
But he lets you go. Whatever he wants to say won’t make it out anyway.
Jungkook gets through the rest of the day constantly distracted, always half-hoping it’s you when there’s a knock on the door, or glancing at your direction from his seat, expecting you’d be meeting his eyes. But it’s never you on the other side and you don’t look his way, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye and then Hoseok is calling to tell him to go home already.
Jungkook tries, though. He finishes half a bottle of whiskey and then sleeps through mid-morning. He doesn’t really know what to do with the time he has and he hates that he has so much of it.
For the first time, he forces himself not to think about the Arts Center, so he decides to sketch some designs for the various residential projects he has in the pipeline. Some are still in their early stages but that Scandinavian-inspired building that he’s been visiting various properties for is still being conceptualized. He doesn’t want to rush, believing that the right design will come, and he hopes that by going through the photos from his trip with Hoseok and A-yeong to Europe last year, he’ll have that extra nudge or perhaps, a burst of inspiration.
The buildings are intricate and majestic, but it’s the little cafes that catch his attention, the fountains in the gardens, and the faraway shots he took of Hoseok and A-yeong as they laughed and danced about. There’s something captivating about the everyday moments, and when he clicks on the photo of the sky, he’s reminded that all those times, he was thinking of you - that clarity, the stability, the comfort. Jungkook always has a lot of things going on in his head but you’ve become that person who makes him stop and look around, who makes him see the beauty in things, who makes him want them for himself this time.
There are some images that float through his mind for the project - large windows, spacious courtyards, open living spaces, muted palettes, tree-lined streets - but with all the comfort and beauty that those bring, his thoughts still shift to you. He remembers how you looked against the mountains during the team building, how the sun made you glow even more, how you looked at peace by the stream, and all he can think about is the sadness that comes with knowing they’re all just memories - still images in his mind that haunt him of what could’ve been.
Jungkook decides to switch strategies an hour later, the emptiness of his penthouse adding to the emptiness he feels inside. Thinking that a change of scenery is what he needs, he puts on his tracks and hoodie and heads out for a run. There’s no destination in mind. He’ll just jog around town, stop if he feels like it, and then head on out again until the thought of you fades from his mind.
He knows he’s not fooling anyone; he’ll probably still be thinking about you. But at least for those hours where he’s distracted by the sounds of the cars and the people in the streets, there’s less of you in there.
It’s quite sunny out. It’s mid-afternoon and he likes the feel of the sweat in his body, the heat contrasting the occasional burst of wind. He stops by a garden, then a convenience store for a drink, then runs up a trail to get a view of the city. The sun starts to set and Jungkook takes it slow. With his hands in his pockets, he leisurely walks to a nearby neighborhood that he hasn’t been to before.
He appreciates the calmness this time and thinks that maybe spending his weekends like this every once in a while isn’t so bad. But he thinks of other ways he could spend it and with whom. Finding new restaurants to eat at and places to explore with you flash through his mind. So does watching your variety shows with you on the couch or some local film like what you enjoy doing on your own.
Jungkook doesn’t fight against it this time. He realizes that the more he resists it, the angrier he’ll be, and he doesn’t want to feel that anymore. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation. He was mad at himself for waiting too long, for not handling things properly, for not talking to you about it… for not being honest about what he really wanted early on. He’s trying not to be selfish by letting you walk away, but maybe that’s selfish, too, if all he’s focused on is how he deals with it, without considering how it’s also affecting you.
He sighs to himself. He’s feeling so much, and this hasn’t happened in a long time. He wasn’t good at this then, and it seems that he hasn’t learned; he doesn’t know how to express what he feels even now.
The sound of children’s laughter catches his attention, and Jungkook turns to his left and finds himself outside of the neighborhood park. The playground is hidden behind large trees, and as if by some serendipitous occurrence, he walks inside and finds a bench to sit on. It’s where he stays as he watches the last remaining child leave the swing and head home.
Silence envelopes him now. He remembers his childhood - how he disliked playing in the nearby playground because he was always teased for being the shy and quiet kid, how his brother laughed along, and how his father constructed one for him so he could enjoy it for once. His brother never joined him, choosing to stay in the treehouse built for him on the other side of their property, and Jungkook liked it that way.
He would climb up the small rock wall and then slide down the slide. He’d swing himself as high as he could, giggling loudly because of the ticklish feeling in his stomach and no one would hear him. He’d look through the telescope and gaze at the stars in the evening. On some afternoons, he’d sit on the little bench and just draw cars and buildings and houses on his sketch pad, just like he’d seen his father do. Out there, he felt like he could be anyone. He could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid. No one was going to hurt him. Nothing would make him feel unwanted - not the birds, not the butterflies, not the bees that he’d watch from afar.
His old man may have always been busy but he built that playground for him without Jungkook asking him to. They were words that his father couldn’t say, apologies that he couldn’t voice out, a desire for more time that he couldn’t express or maybe even commit to, which is why they remained unspoken.
After the incident at the cabin when Jungkook felt abandoned, he stopped playing. He stopped going outside, afraid of the open air, of the possibility that the rain would come, of his father joining him in a space that used to be one where no one could disappoint him.
Time passed and the apologies were still unspoken. The emotions were kept hidden, the desire left unsaid. But they remained. Jungkook knew because his father kept that playground in its spot despite the renovations done in the estate over the years. He maintained them, too, making sure that he seals them regularly, that he repairs damages, that he paints them once the color has started to fade.
Jungkook knew this because every time he visited their home, he always spent some time there. And he saw that the playground always looked the way it did when he first saw it over 20 years ago. He was there last week, and he remembers that in the midst of his outburst, being there calmed him down.
Despite all the painful memories in between, and even if he’d outgrown it already, the safety was still there. It held memories, it felt like freedom, it held that child-like belief that he could do and be anything and he could be happy.
And as Jungkook watches the sky turn dark, the calmness overtakes him. Any playground elicits that kind of feeling, and he hears the apologies, he feels the emotions, he understands the desire.
He realizes that he’s very much like his father, just as you and Mr. Ri and Hoseok have told him. Because much as the old man is good at many things, expressing how he feels is one thing he struggles with. That’s why he builds things. He builds homes for his wife and a treehouse and playground for his sons.
And like some epiphany, Jungkook realizes that he may not be able to express what he feels, but he may be able to show you. The words may never be enough, even as they remain unsaid, but he can at least give you a space that matters to you, a place just like his playground that you could go to to feel safe, where you could be anyone, where you could do anything and feel anything and not be afraid.
It will be a place where no one can hurt you, not even him, and where you’ll always be wanted - by the characters in your picture books, and the birds and butterflies and bees that you’ll color. You may have outgrown them, but he knows that the memories of your childhood will remind you that there’s a place for you, in his heart especially.
His mind starts to race, with designs and details flashing through his mind. He rushes home and starts working, and he doesn’t leave his study until 3 in the morning. But he’s satisfied, and he spends the next day making calls and other arrangements, ensuring that the plans are set for dissemination to the team.
It’s a monumental task for the time that he has. The Arts Center opening isn’t far from now. He’ll probably earn the ire of everyone involved, including his father, but Jungkook will just have to deal with all that.
Right now, what matters is that he gets to do this to show you how he feels. He doesn’t know when you’ll see it, if you’ll decide to go when it opens in a few weeks, but he hopes that when you do, you’ll know that you made him feel something that he hasn’t in a long time, and he hopes that if he no longer gives you that feeling of comfort and safety that he’s been giving, then there’s a place that he built so you’d feel all those again.
You sit on your desk that Monday morning and try to act as if all your contrasting emotions aren’t weighing heavily on you.
Being with your friends over the weekend helped, as you took the train to meet them this time and told them everything that’s happened. You apologized for not telling them right away, but they knew that it was important for you to feel everything on your own first and try to figure it out. You said you really hadn’t - deciding to leave seemed so simple but the feelings and the truth complicated them, and now you’re left with a broken heart and the belief that Jungkook won’t forgive you, that he won’t want you anymore, that he'll just let you walk away without any closure.
Soomin and Jimin just held you and listened. They knew from the start it would be difficult. Your past wasn’t something you talked about so easily, and it took you years to even tell them your story, how you ended up in Busan and why you had to return to Daegu because it was already safe for you to go back home. There was no judgment, only support, even when you decided to enter the company and work for the people that you felt you owed your life to.
Their resentment towards Jungkook stemmed from how he treated you at the beginning; they knew that yours was the same. But they never questioned your sincerity when it came to how you felt - you’re never like this, they said. It takes a lot for you to let someone in and ties to his family isn’t enough for that. If anything, that’s what told them it was real - you would’ve tried hard to control the feelings but you still gave in, and for you to think he was worth that even for the briefest moment means he probably was.
Their perspective affirmed you in a way. This wasn’t just some silly crush on your boss, but this also wasn’t something you could just easily forget or get over. Your happiness always comes first, and it may look like a life with him in it, but it doesn’t mean he gets to be part of it right now. It’s also possible it’s one without him, and if it is, then you’re just going to have to learn to accept that.
You sigh to yourself. You’re in no better place than you were last week, but at least you have less days left in being here. But then again, that also just means the closer you are to really saying goodbye.
You go through your checklist of things to turn over and do before you leave, and while you’re halfway through, putting together event and project portfolios and documenting best practices still takes a lot of time.
You’re about to begin your first task of the day when you hear rushed footsteps. Lucas scurries over to your side to leave his things then grabs some folders.
“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask the visibly stressed man next to you.
“Uh, yeah,” he responds. “Mr. Jeon called for a meeting about the Arts Center and there are changes. He wants to add something.”
“At this stage?” You ask worriedly.
“Yeah. It seems like it’s quite a bit of work. I’m… I’m freaking out because this is a really big project and —I”
“Won’t disappoint him, I’m sure of it,” you try to comfort him. “You’ll be fine, Lucas. Just take a breath and take it one step at a time. I’ll be right here.”
You smile at him warmly, hoping that the bit of encouragement would help. The opening is a few weeks from now. At this point, focus should just be on finishing touches, finalizing government certifications, and promotion, but with how Lucas seems a bit rattled, the changes might indeed be a bit overwhelming.
He excuses himself to prepare the conference room and get the team then leaves, and as you’re about to follow him, Jungkook exits his office then stands by the hallway.
“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, prompting you to stay in your place. “There is no need for you to attend the meetings about the Arts Center.”
You’re taken aback by his statement but you recover.
“But… it’s opening in a few weeks, sir. There’s lots to do, and Lucas just said there are changes,” you counter. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I would.”
“I know that,” he says. “And I’m saying that there’s no need this time. The team can manage. You’ve taught them well.”
“But—”
“You’ve tendered your resignation, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you, his tone a little softer than it’s been recently. “Your remaining days here are meant for turnover and mentoring Lucas in his general functions, and not to take on added or continuing responsibilities.”
He may have a point, but it doesn’t take away from your sadness over no longer knowing how the preparations are going. You’ve become invested in the Arts Center this past year, too, and while you knew you had to let that go as well, it doesn’t mean it’s easy.
“Understood, sir,” you concede, bowing your head down in submission. “I’ll continue with my reports, then.”
He just nods, and you don’t miss the tinge of apology in his eyes. He leaves, and you’re left alone again; you think that’s how you’ve been feeling all this time.
You get on with your task, and it’s not long after when Hoseok enters, his bright smile only doing little to raise your spirits.
“Hey, ___,” he greets. “How are you holding up?”
“Just fine,” you try to smile. “Are you looking for Jungkook? He’s not here right now. He’s meeting the team about the Arts Center and if you’re wondering why I’m not there, it’s because he didn’t want me to be. First he replaces me, and then he excludes me and I just feel so… I…”
“Seems like you’re less than fine,” Hoseok says sullenly. “I’m so sorry, ___. I know this has been hard for you. For both of you.”
You know it is. But you suppose that you and Jungkook deal with difficulties differently.
“You… you understand why I had to do this, right?” You ask.
“I do,” he affirms, his eyes softening even further. “And so does Jungkook. And that’s the hard part. He doesn’t want you to go but he knows you have to do this for yourself. I guess… Your decisiveness hurt him. And with what I’m seeing now, I guess his acceptance hurt you, too.”
“I… I’m such a mess. Maybe I deserve all this,” you sigh. “How could I kiss him, push him away, leave him, want him, but can’t bring myself to be with him?”
“Because you’re human and could want things that you’re afraid of? Because it’s possible to want to find yourself while also being next to someone else yet still think it’s not enough?” Hoseok says. “It’s normal to feel all this, ___. But figuring things out also takes time. Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? Not knowing what to do now is understandable.”
“I… I only have a few weeks left here,” you say softly. “Maybe this is how he wants this all to end.”
“What about you? Is this how you want it to end?”
“I don’t know, but maybe it’s easier,” you try to convince yourself. “It’s easier to walk away when I know I’m not wanted. Maybe that’s what I made him feel, and I can’t blame him if that’s what he wants me to feel in return.”
“Oh, ___,” Hoseok shakes his head, knowing it’s not the truth. “You and Jungkook just need to talk. Then you’d know you want the same things.”
“Maybe… but we’re not good at that. And it doesn’t mean we want the same things at the same time,” you reason.
“So it’s about timing, then?”
“I guess. But we’re not good at that either,” you laugh dryly at the absurdity of it. “Look, even without all this, he already has a lot of things in his mind. The biggest project of his life is about to be unveiled soon and I… I have a life to live after this. I’m doing what I should’ve done years ago and the least I could do for myself is stand by the decision I made. I know I’d regret it if I stayed. I don’t want to regret the way I walked away.”
It’s a thought you’re slowly coming to, as you look back at how the week has been. You’ve been receiving nothing but praise and encouragement from your colleagues. You’ve been getting emails from various companies that want to recruit you after you put your resume through an online job site. There are so many possibilities now that you’ve put one foot out the door, and while you know of the possibilities you’re also leaving behind, you know deep down that you would’ve regretted it if you stayed, and you don’t want to tie that decision to Jungkook and end up resenting him for it.
The only thing that’s been keeping you down is what that decision is doing to you and Jungkook. It’s one you hope you’re able to fix, or at least mend enough that you’ll only have the good memories with you, and that so would he.
“I’m just really sorry,” Hoseok says, knowing that much as he’d like to help you and his cousin sort things out, it’s difficult when neither of you are unable to sort out your own feelings. “But I’m not just here to talk about that. I… I wanted to give you this.”
Hoseok hands you a sealed envelope and you look at him curiously.
“I know Jungkook gave you his recommendation letter, but I thought another one won’t hurt,” he smiles, letting you feel the warmth of it.
You know that companies usually just call for references, but a letter like this - especially from a well-known corporation’s top executive - gives you an advantage that others don’t have. You suppose that when you received one from Jungkook, it was a show of support. You have no doubt that with Hoseok, it’s him telling you that he’ll always have your back, wherever you may be.
“Oh, Hoseok,” you say, feeling all the emotions come at once.
It’s insane to think that almost a year ago, you were in this same spot with him encouraging and assuring you that he’ll always be around. Back then, you were anxious about being led by someone new who you knew was nothing like the man you admired. And now you’re here again, and Hoseok is giving you that same comfort that he always has, and the thought that you won’t even be in the same building as him is causing a crack in your heart. You hope one day, you’ll be able to fully express just how much his kindness has given you hope and so much to look forward to.
“Thank you,” you smile through your glassy eyes. “You… you’ve taught me so much. I hope you know that much of the confidence I have now is because of you. I’m terrified of this new journey but I’m confident that I’ll do well. You believed in me first and I’ll never forget that.”
“Being a good leader is something I learned to become because of you, ___. And because of the team. I admire you for so many things, and I’m pretty sure that wherever you choose to go, the company will be so lucky to have you.”
“I hope so,” you remark, knowing that’s another thing you have to deal with. “I… I have a few options. A few companies have reached out but there’s a publishing house that I’m leaning towards. I met the editor some time ago and that encounter just stuck with me and I feel like that kind of environment would suit me.”
“That’s great to know,” he says excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear about it. A-yeong and I will take you out to dinner once things have settled down, okay?”
“That would be great. I can’t wait for that, too.”
Hoseok bids you goodbye, leaving you alone with your thoughts for the next two hours. Whatever changes are happening with the Arts Center must be big, as it’s taking the team this long to iron things out.
It’s close to lunch time when the meeting ends. Jungkook walks in while on a call, while Lucas sits next to you looking a little stressed.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
“Yeah. There are just last minute changes but Mr. Jeon’s on top of it,” Lucas says. “He just wants us to make sure we’re on top of the other things and I’m honestly still familiarizing myself with the details of the Arts Center. I’m just nervous I’m gonna miss something.”
“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” you assure him. “I know you were just thrust into this at such a critical time where you don’t have much leeway to adjust and that’s on me and I’m sorry. But that’s also why I’m gonna make sure that I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“Thanks, I need that,” Lucas sighs. “I can’t help but think that a year ago, I was almost supposed to be here. I mean, we can talk about it now. Mr. Jeon said he planned on taking me with him because he doesn’t want a new assistant that he has to get used to, you know? I always knew he hated change and I was the one thing that was familiar but it didn’t work out. Even I knew it wasn’t gonna happen - CEO Jeon approves these appointments and the EA of the VP needs to be familiar with the company culture and process and I wasn’t. I wasn’t really upset but I let myself think of living in Seoul for a short while and it seemed exciting. But things happen for a reason, and I think if I had to adjust then while helping Mr. Jeon with this project, I probably would’ve caved in and quit.”
Lucas turns to you with a smile. “What I mean to say is that, I admire you so much for being able to manage all this. And I know I have incredibly big shoes to fill and I think I’m more terrified about that, but I’m really thankful that you’re there to guide me, ___. Whatever tip and strategy and cheat sheet you can provide will be much appreciated.”
“Of course,” you assure him. “I’ve got spreadsheets and checklists and profiles and guidelines to turn over to you. And I’m always a call away, okay?”
He nods in gratitude, and you tell him that you both have time to sort through all those and that you’ll be finished in time for your last day. You agree on having lunch together so you could talk about the Board members and the other executives, and he says he has to see Jungkook first to get his signatures for some documents.
“Oh, can you, uh, can you give this to him, too?” You ask, passing him your leave request. It was during your time alone when you decided when to take them, knowing that you’re gonna slowly have to get used to being away from this place as well.
Lucas takes it then returns shortly after with your signed form. There’s relief in knowing you get to organize your life somehow. There are interviews to attend and a lot of your things to fix. There are feelings to make sense of, too.
And as you and Lucas talk about his move and the worry and excitement he feels, you think that you’ve got to stop thinking of goodbyes. There’s a life for you out there, and if by some way you find Jungkook in there, too, then at least you’d know you chose him, and that if he’d forgiven you then, then you’re assured that he’s chosen you, too.
You spend the entirety of Tuesday orienting Lucas about your spreadsheets and other files, and you both come up with a system that suits his style of work. Jungkook was out the whole day, and though you suppress the feeling of missing him, it’s one that haunts you until you lay in your bed that night.
You take the rest of the week off. You spend Wednesday cleaning your apartment and then having dinner with the elderly couple next door who amuse you with their love story and memories of their youth.
You meet Namjoon on Thursday for that official interview he’s been waiting for. You can’t help but envision yourself in the office with the dynamism of the teams and the laid-back feel of the entire space. You’d commit yourself right then and there if it didn’t make you look that desperate, but it’s Namjoon who encourages you to go to the other interviews you have lined up.
It’s a risk, he says; he might lose you if another more appealing company states their case. But he wants you to choose them without regrets; he wants you to choose them because you’ve seen what’s out there and decided that they’re who you want and who you see yourself being happy in. You don’t miss his slightly nervous face when you agree, but you suppose that if you’re going to do this now, might as well do it right.
You go to two other interviews that Friday, and while trying out events management was always in the back of your mind, it’s nice to see just how the job and the tasks excite you.
It’s the first time you’re feeling like you actually have options. Back then, even if there were other opportunities, you chose working for the Jeons because of a debt you felt you had to pay. You limited your own choices, but now, you feel what it’s like to take control of your own life, and it’s liberating to not have any baggage with you this time around.
Jimin and Soomin pay you a visit that weekend. They drive you around, thinking that the beauty of spring would inspire you even more. It’s fitting, they say, as you start a new phase in your life while the flowers bloom and greet you. But as you pass by a park and see the colors of the sky and buy some convenience store snacks on the way home, you can’t help but think of Jungkook.
Missing him feels a little odd. You didn’t know what it felt like until his trip at the end of last year, but you always knew he was gonna come back. This time, you’re unsure of when you’ll see him again. You spent time with him in a work environment, so being away from him and doing everyday things shouldn’t even affect you this much. But you suppose it’s the idea of what could have been that you miss, even if you don’t really know what that’s like.
You spend Monday and Tuesday the next week the same way. There’s just one executive meeting each day that you attend to assess how Lucas manages it, but other than that, you barely see Jungkook in the office. He stays in his room all morning then heads out in the afternoon, and you leave before he could even make it back. It reminds you that you truly left him at a critical time. You don’t know if he’s eating well, if he’s getting proper rest, if he’s tending a bruised knuckle or dealing with a headache. You don’t know if the stress is getting to him, if the anxiety is slowly building up, or if it’s just excitement he feels and that he can’t wait for everything to come together.
You hope for his sake, it’s the latter. You want nothing more than to assure him that things will turn out the way he wants, that the intended audience will love the Arts Center, and that he’s already achieved so much with just this. You hope he’s proud of himself the way you are, and that he knows that if there’s anything he leaves you with, it’s your own pride that you got to be part of something beautiful, and it’s that search for connection and intimacy and meaning that got you yearning for those things, too.
You take the rest of the week off again. You run errands one day, go to an interview the next, and then walk around town the day after. It feels like you’re back to that state of being alone but not feeling lonely; there’s just that added sense of freedom this time.
You’re not stressed about work. Time isn’t flying too fast. You don’t feel like you’re rushing, going from one task to another for the sake of it. You have space to think and feel. Even at such a short period of time, you’re learning what things excite you and what you want to explore. And that’s liberating, now that you’re able to pull yourself out of the routine that contained you for years, one that made you believe it was all you had and all you deserved. You think that this isn't so bad, and the constant sadness you feel slowly fades away as the days pass.
But then you return to work on Monday - your final week - and the illusion breaks.
Lucas has to meet with the marketing department, so he asks you to prepare Jungkook’s coffee in the morning. You feel quite sentimental doing it, as you know that there probably won’t be a next time.
You knock on the door, and when he asks you to come in, you suddenly feel anxious. You place the cup on his desk, making sure you put the biscuits like you always do.
Jungkook senses when you step back, lingering like you’ve been doing the few times you’ve done it. You used to do it because you expected he’d have something to ask you whenever you entered his room. But recently, he feels it’s you just waiting - for him to say something, perhaps, or for you to find the courage to speak up.
But you never do. And he never says what he really wants to.
“It’s your last week, Ms. Cho,” he states, focusing on his iPad screen so as not to torture himself with the sight of you. “How’s your clearance going?”
“Uh, it is, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Finance and HR have cleared me. IT and security will clear me on my last day. And I’ll submit to you my final deliverables on Wednesday. You can sign off my form then.”
He nods, and you torture yourself by standing by even if he doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. You’re about to excuse himself when he speaks again.
“Please free up your Friday evening. We’ll have a team send-off dinner for you.”
“I, uh. Understood, sir. Thank you.”
He nods once more, and it’s your signal to leave. He’s never felt so far away, but you suppose it’s the kind of distance you need.
You walk back to your seat, the reality of your last week hitting you, especially when you find Do-hyun and Yohan by your desk, looking somber as they reach out for a hug. You return it, with Do-hyun pointing it out, and she frowns when you say that you’ll be without it for a long time.
“Is everything alright?” You ask them.
“Yes,” they respond in unison.
“We just want to spend as much time with you as we can,” Yohan states. “I know we’ve all been busy but… it’s your last week. So let’s have lunch today, and any other day when you’re free. Please?”
“Of course,” you say. “Food hall today?”
They nod excitedly, and you spend your lunch time at the outdoor space, laughing about, with Lucas slowly but surely finding his place within the team.
That afternoon, Yoongi drops by and says he has lots of things going on because of the changes Jungkook is making, but he’ll meet you when you want to. He reminds you that he’s there when you need him; he’ll turn down the other man if it comes down to it. But he’ll drop by everyday until your last day, he says; he doesn’t want to feel like he didn't see you enough.
You assure him that he’s the one person you’d definitely meet up with outside of work, and so there’s no limit when it comes to him.
On Tuesday, you have lunch with some people from the marketing department whom you’ve gotten close to these past months, and on Wednesday, Bitna and the other assistants take you out to dinner.
CEO Jeon and Hoseok take you out to lunch on Thursday, stating that they wanted to check in and ask what your plans are. They assure you that they’re there should you need support in any way; the company is likewise always going to have a place for you. And with the sincerity in their eyes and their hope of you finding your place and your happiness, you know they mean well. So you take that time to ask for advice, too.
It ends in laughter, as you recall your early days at the company and the mishaps with Hoseok. You talk about some of the issues you’ve been privy to and some details about your life that they missed. Talking with them feels comfortable now that there’s an acknowledgment of your ties to their family. You can tell that despite of and after everything, CEO Jeon truly cares for you and your mother, and that he’ll be eternally sorry yet grateful to both of you.
You’re thankful that they don’t mention Jungkook. You wouldn’t know how to react if they did, especially since you’ve barely seen him all week. Missing him has become natural that you’ve just accepted it, including the fact that you can’t do anything about it. Maybe you’ll always be too scared to let him know, too.
It’s Friday before you know it. You manage to get everything done on time, and Jungkook calls you to his office that morning to return your signed clearance form. You hate how you’re both back to this tense dynamic whenever you enter his room - lingering looks, clenched jaws, deafening silence… and words you want to say and hear but know you never would. You’re both not built for that, you think; there’s always so much to feel but not enough courage to face them.
This room holds so many memories - when he got mad, when you stood up to him, when he said he needed your help, when he kissed you and you kissed him back… when you pushed him away.
But this isn’t where you say goodbye. There’s still that team dinner tonight and you hope you get to leave him with a proper farewell and a sincere expression of thanks for all that he’s taught you. You want to wish him good luck on the Arts Center opening. You want to tell him that you believe he’ll keep doing great things, you want to remind him to take proper rest, to take his breaks seriously, and to enjoy all that’s ahead of him.
So you settle for a smile, as genuine as you can make it, before heading out and closing the door behind you.
You return to your desk and go over some other things with Lucas that he needs clarifications on. You both spend lunch with the team and then resume your final turnover.
It’s shortly after 3 PM when Jungkook comes out of his room with his bag in hand, and he instructs Lucas to get some blueprints from Chin-sun before they both leave to go to the Arts Center for a visit. The man next to you gets up and tells you he’ll see you at dinner, leaving you and Jungkook alone this time.
It’s that lingering look again and he stays rooted in his spot, his eyes getting more distant as the seconds pass.
“I wish you well, ___,” he says, the use of your name with words that seem like goodbye causing a crack in your heart. “Good luck. And thank you.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves right after, and you’re left with your heart in your hands, one that keeps calling his name. You think it will continue to do that after all this.
You spend the rest of the afternoon packing your things and entertaining all those who drop by to say goodbye. Yoongi messages to say he’s out on a project site but that he’ll see you soon, and it’s something you look forward to after things have settled down.
You find yourself in a private room at a nice restaurant with the team not long after. You can order anything, you’re told, and Do-hyun and Yohan don’t hesitate on choosing the dishes that they wouldn’t have been able to eat if it wasn’t for their boss paying for this meal.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Lucas and Mr. Jeon?” You ask, looking around and feeling incomplete.
“This dinner is for you, and you’re here,” Do-hyun points out. “But I guess we can wait.”
You settle for some appetizers and get to talking. They’re less sentimental than they were a few weeks ago. They say they’ve made peace with everything and are just happy that you’re able to take a break and have time for yourself before going back to the grind. It’s all talk and laughter, and when Lucas arrives, everybody cheers because then, you can all have your food served.
“Where’s Mr. Jeon?” Do-hyun asks before you do.
“He’s at the Arts Center dealing with the laborers and the design team,” Lucas says regrettably. “Seems like there’s too much work and he can’t make it to dinner. I doubt he even eats at this point. He’s there every afternoon and doesn’t leave until late at night.”
“Is everything alright?” You ask, a mix of worry and sadness at how much he’s pushing himself, and that he didn’t even have the heart to see you one last time.
Perhaps that short exchange earlier was his final goodbye, you think. And now you wouldn’t even be able to say yours.
“Yeah, you know how he is when he focuses on something,” Lucas sighs. “He just locks in and doesn’t care about anything else. He’s always been like that and I guess that hasn’t changed. But he did say he wants us to enjoy tonight, so order anything you want and he’ll take care of it.”
You mask the disappointment by laughing through Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about the best way to attack the menu, but you can’t help the way your eyes flit to the door every time it opens, hoping Jungkook would walk through it. But it’s never him.
Mr. Ri walks in right as the main dishes are served, and you look at him in question. He returns your dejected look with a shake of his head, as if he knows what you're thinking.
You suppose that this is how Jungkook wanted to end things - by not showing up, by leaving the wound uncovered. You didn’t realize it would hurt like this.
Maybe you deserve it. Maybe you don’t. But with the empty seat on the table reminding you of the man who chose to not give you a final goodbye because you’d done yours so certainly, you’re starting to think that it doesn’t really matter. He gets to choose how he deals with this, like he said. And you have no choice but to do the same.
You try your hardest to keep up with the team’s energy. They’re at least no longer crying, although you wish they were so you’d have a reason to cry yourself, because that’s what you’re trying hard not to do. It’s probably because of the sadness at knowing that you won’t experience this with them anymore; you won’t share the laughter and the stories that you used to. Everything is sinking in already, and it’s reality hitting you that you’re really going to start a new journey soon, and that you had to let go of someone incredibly important for that to happen.
The Jungkook-shaped hole in your life will probably get bigger as the days pass, but that’s just another thing missing that you’ll have to find substitutes for, just like you do for everything else.
You manage to get through dinner with dry eyes, even when you’re presented with farewell gifts. Lucas hands you a large box - a present from the VP’s Office, he says, and you smile in awe when you see a coffee pod maker that’s a similar version to the one you have at the pantry.
“You won’t be going around making other people’s coffee anymore,” Manager Lee says. “So this is for your home. You’ll be on-the-go and busy but at least you’ll have this. It’s also so you’ll always remember us.”
“It’s also how I started,” you point out, recalling your internship days at the company. “But this is great. Please uh, please thank Mr. Jeon for me.”
“And this is from us,” Do-hyun smiles, handing you another box. “Like, this is from our own pockets. And we thought of every single thing in there so don’t forget about us. Ever.”
You open it and find a lot of the things that they know you can’t live without - a tumbler, a mug, notebooks, colored pens and highlighters, post-its, little jars of snacks and candies. There are also self-care items like scented candles and essential oils. In a little bag, there are two disposable cameras and vouchers to your local theater.
And underneath all of those is a complete photo of your team, the one taken during your team building not long ago. Everyone looks refreshed and carefree. Including you. And then there’s Jungkook next to you, hands in his pockets and sporting what you know is a genuine smile. It’s a good reminder of your time together, and despite everything, you’re glad you have something to always keep close to you.
You return their hugs, each one carrying so much care and warmth that you missed out on because you were never one to accept them, to ask for them. You finally say goodbye and make a promise that you’ll catch up with them one of these days, one you know you’ll keep.
You all walk out. Mr. Ri helps you with your things then leads you towards the car.
“Last one for old time’s sake,” he smiles at you. “And it’s late. Let me drive you home.”
You don’t resist, knowing that as someone who’s looked after you for so many years, never faltering in his commitment to your mother or you, you’re truly going to miss him.
Sitting on the passenger seat, you look out the window and try to amuse yourself with the scenes outside. There are cars passing by and people trying to get home, probably grateful that another week is over. You wonder how many of them are nursing broken hearts, or are running away from something, or are hoping someone they pushed away comes back.
The tears are falling before you know it, and as you try to hold in your sniffles, you see Mr. Ri from your periphery glance at you before turning on the radio, gradually making the music louder so as to drown out your sounds. That continues for a while until the streets start to look familiar. Somehow, you dread going home - being alone at a time like this feels a little too much, but maybe you deserve that, too.
You arrive at your apartment, and Mr. Ri helps you in bringing all your stuff inside. He stays by the door and his soft eyes prompt you to speak.
“I thought he’d come,” you whisper. “I thought I’d see him one last time. He… he couldn’t even say goodbye.”
“You know it’s not always easy for people to do that,” he says. “Letting you go was hard enough. What if he says something that would push you even farther away?”
“I can’t be any farther than I am right now,” you sigh. “But we did this to each other. I didn’t want to stay and he… just let me walk away. I hurt him but everything else after hurt me, too. And I��� I wish it didn’t. I—”
You’re unable to speak as you cry once more, all the conflicting emotions suffocating you from within. And all Mr. Ri can do is wipe your tears with his handkerchief and hope that could stop them somehow.
“This hurts me,” he utters the words so softly and so heavy with emotion. “It’s like watching my daughter get her heart broken.”
It’s what makes you smile, and you take the piece of cloth from him and dry your eyes.
“I could’ve been,” you say, knowing that he wanted a family at one point.
“That’s true. But most times I think that I would’ve been too burdened by what I’ve done that I wouldn’t have been able to love your mother the way she deserves,” he reasons. “And I’ll always think that I let her go so that she could find someone like Min-woo who’d love her without reservations, who’d be able to give her a life that she’d always dreamed to have and to give you.”
Mr. Ri recalls his own decisions and the heartbreaks that followed right after. They conflicted him, too, but in life, knowing what you want doesn’t always mean you get to express it the way you want to. Sometimes doing it makes it harder for everyone involved, and that’s what he thinks is what’s happening with you and Jungkook, too.
“I think it’s what Jungkook has learned,” he continues. “He has to let you go so you could find whatever happiness it is that you couldn’t find where you are. And as for you, you have to know that letting someone go right now doesn’t mean you can’t ever have them again. You just have to stop thinking you don’t deserve to want it.”
You take his words to heart as you bid him goodbye, and they stay in your head as you force yourself to sleep later that night.
You don’t know what kind of happiness you’re searching for. You don’t even know what happiness could truly be like with Jungkook, and the thought that maybe you’ll never know starts to scare you. It’s one you think you’d like to one day experience. But how could you when you pushed him away? Is it even something you could still want, given what you’ve done? Is it something he’d want to know as well? In the midst of the mess you created, could it still happen?
You’re reminded of what CEO Jeon had said not long ago, and you try to comfort yourself with it. You crossed paths with Jungkook for a reason. You’ve started to believe that you’re losing him for a reason. You just have to trust that if it’s meant to be, you’ll find him again for a reason as well.
You just hope that when you do, he’ll take you back again, ask you to stay, and you’ll be able to tell him with your whole heart that you will. And that it’s something you won’t ever regret.
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Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Fifteen - Olivia's Better Birthday
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.5K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
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Daniels backyard was transformed. It was every little girls dream. There was a huge banner tied to the fence which read 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY BADGER' in big bubbly letters.
Daniel had everything. There were two ponies in the corner, giving kids rides across the garden. There was a bouncy castle, a ball pit, one of those inflatable slides, every kind of food you could imagine and balloons everywhere.
"Wow," Y/N gasped as she put Milo on the floor. He immediately took off, running towards Olivia.
"You made it!" Called Daniel as he strode towards her, arms out stretched.
She fell into them. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said as Daniel squeezed her.
"Come on," he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house. Y/N looked around for Milo as she allowed herself to be pulled along, but he was too busy playing with Olivia.
Daniel pulled her into the kitchen. On top of the kitchen counter was a wide yet not very tall box. Unable to keep the grin from his face, Daniel pulled open the box, revealing Olivia's birthday cake. "Holy shit," she couldn't stop herself from whispering as she looked at the cake.
It was a Red Bull F1 car, that much was clear. It had the normal sponsors and a red number six on it. Smaller sponsors were things like Olivia's name and 'Olivia's sixth birthday' in small, golden writing. Inside of the F1 car, in the drivers seat, was a badger.
Y/N looked at Daniel. "She's gonna love it," she said as he placed the lid back onto the box, keeping it safe.
"This might be my proudest moment as a dad," he said and walked with her back out to the garden. "Now that you guys are here, we can actually start," he said as he opened the door for her.
"You waited for us?" She asked, unable to stop smiling. "You really didn't have to."
"Oh, I did," Daniel said. He led her to the other adults in the garden and abandoned her to go and stand in front of everybody. He clapped his hands and most eyes turned to him. "Hi everybody," Daniel called, his voice booming across the garden. "Thank you all for coming to Olivia's birthday party. We have games and pony rides and feel free to help yourselves to drinks. Parents we have drinks in the kitchen," he said and stepped away.
He made his way back over to the parents and joined Y/N at her side. "Can I get you something to drink?" He offered her.
"Danny, I need to drive Milo and I home," she said as he placed his arms around her.
But he shook his head. "Stay here with me," he said. "Milo and Olivia can have a sleepover and you and I can have a sleepover," he said quietly.
That was just a little too tempting. "One, just one," she said to him and Daniel disappeared back into the house.
Y/N looked around at the other parents and adults. Most of them she recognised from the daycare car park, some of them she recognised as Daniel's friend. "Hey!" Somebody called as they walked towards her. "Y/N, right?"
It took her a moment to recognise who was talking to her. "Hey Max!" She called as they greeted each other with a friendly, welcoming hug. "How have you been?"
When Daniel came out of the kitchen with drinks for him and Y/N in hand, she was talking to Max, who was introducing her to those she hadn't met yet. Almost all of the grid was there, introducing themselves and chatting animatedly. The only one missing was Charles, but Olivia was forcing him down the slide with her.
Lando spotted Daniel. He grinned at him and Y/N turned around. "Thank you, Danny," she said and took the drink from him. Daniel immediately put his arms over her shoulders pulling her into him as they continued to chat with his friends.
The other drivers smirked at each other. They already looked like a couple, and they all knew it wouldn't be long until were one.
A few hours into the party, it was time to bring out the cake. Max held Olivia on his hip as Daniel brought out the cake. "Uncle Max it looks like your car!" She called while everybody sang happy birthday to her.
She blew out the candles on the cake and a few of the drivers, including Daniel, formed an assembly line to get a piece of cake to everybody. Whatever was left over went into party bags, with Daniel leaving a wheel aside.
Music played and the kids danced around. Parents still stood and chatted, but Y/N and Daniel were behind them, gently swaying. Nobody could see them, they thought. But they wouldn't have cared if they could.
"Olivia made this playlist," Daniel said, Y/N tucked against his chest as a song from a disney movie came to an end. "She pretty much planned this entire party."
She looked up, not moving her head from his chest. "She's done brilliantly," she said as she looked around. It really was a spectacular party. She only wished she could give Milo something this grand.
Suddenly, a Taylor Swift song began playing. Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she looked up at a grinning Daniel. "This one isn't Olivia's music, is it?"
Daniel couldn't stop himself from laughing as he and Y/N began moving faster. "I'm a swifty," he confessed and Y/N just laughed with him.
"So, if I was in a room with Taylor, who are you choosing?" She asked, but the grin on her face showed she wasn't serious.
Daniel grabbed a hold of her chin and tipped her face towards his. "You every time," he said and kissed her.
After the cake the party was only an hour longer. He passed party bags out to parents as they grabbed their kids and started making their way out.
Y/N began clearing things up as Daniel said goodbye to everyone. He took a little bit longer saying goodbye to his fellow drivers, who wanted a moment to ask about Y/N. But he waved them off, wanting them to leave so he could have time with her.
As the slide, bouncy castle and ball pit were packed up, the ponies were put back into the trailer. Before the owner put them away, he gave Milo and Olivia a treat each to give to the horses. They were squealing as they walked away.
Once she had picked up as much rubbish as she could, Y/N started salvaging what food was leftover. She brought it into the kitchen as Daniel brought Milo and Olivia inside.
As soon as the party was cleaned up Y/N and Daniel worked on getting the kids ready for bed. Milo wore the clothes he had from the last time he had slept over. Olivia still wore her birthday crown once she was ready for bed.
But they didn't go to bed right away. Putting a few snacks from the party into a bowl, Y/N and Daniel sat with in the living room with the kids. Olivia and Milo shared the food, eyes fixed on the television, as Y/N cuddled up to Daniel.
"Today was amazing," she whispered as she laid against his chest. "You're a brilliant dad."
Daniel kissed the top of her head.
As soon as the movie was finished, they got the kids up to bed. Y/N kissed the top of Milo's head and tucked him in. He and Olivia were exhausted after the party. They were so happy, but so exhausted. "Momma," Milo said through a yawn. "Do you think I can have a party like Olivia's?"
Y/N stroked through Milo's hair. "I'll try, Munchkin," she whispered. They said a final good night and Y/N walked out of the room, leaving him to get some sleep.
She showered and got changed into the oversized shirt Daniel had provided for her. When she was done she returned to Daniels bedroom, where he was already ready for bed. She grinned as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "We haven't even had our third date yet. Are you sure this is appropriate?"
Daniel pretended to think about it. His hand was on her arm, finding any excuse to touch her. "Want to debate it over cake?"
That was how they found themselves in the kitchen, once again sat on the floor as they shared the circular piece of cake between them. "It's a soft tyre," Daniel explained as Y/N dug her fork into the black fondant. "You can tell by the red on it," he said.
Y/N licked her fork. "So what does a soft tyre mean?" She asked, and Daniel was only too happy to explain.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (3; Octavinelle)
A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it. Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.
Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer’ series + form of headcanons
note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]
“Hey…you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?”
Tag list: @justm3di0cr3 , @a-small-tyrant , @twistedcece , @savanaclaw1996
1;Heartslabyul
2; Savanaclaw
Azul Ashengrotto:
Euxkrbwöaöwlfffhsk - ???
UHM - wh-what a silly, little rumor! Ho-How, why would anyone think that???
There he goes, laughing awkwardly (almost like a sea witch)
He becomes a bit of a fidgety, awkward mess. Wherever he goes he really tries to uphold his 'cool, poised manner' but it simply fails time and time again when his own dorm theorizes about him being the secret admirer!
They aren't even rumors anymore! People wholeheartedly believe it!
After all, who else but the Azul Ashengrotto would be capable to plan and scheme to such extends? He is a schemer. It is in his nature after all.
If the many infamous tricks up his sleeves does not convince one, certainly his obvious pining for the perfect does.
Azul splutters- wha-wha- whatdoyoumean????
P-pining?! Ah - ahahahHAHAHAHA-JDKYJkekcislfks...
*heavy breathing as he hides himself in his pot*
Jade and Floyd may have just 1% of pity for him but the remaining 99% is spent on laughing at his misery. They are well aware that he is not the secret admirer - after all, the arguements of him being the one are solid, so they checked (not even Azul will take Shrimpy away from them) but kind of knew that he was too much of a coward to even display his affections for you, anonymous or not.
"No! This can't be!" Azul dramatically pants inside his pot, "I-I have to set this right!"
So here comes his plan to convince you that he is not the secret admirer.
Even though "convincing" is an overstatement. He would just be telling you the truth.
He likes you, yes...but Azul wouldn't ever have the courage to do the things the admirer did for you...
Maybe he doesn't deserve you, being the coward that he is...
So, he approaches you in a rather big crowd. Many hoop that Azul is finally going to reveal the identity of the admirer - he himself!
Yet, there is confusion and disappointment. The scheming Ashengrotto, pathetically putty in your hands, is not the one confessing in secret to you?
Azul is flustered beyond belief. Face a sweating, flushed mess as he stutters out the truth.
Well, the one truth besides his feelings for you.
"Ah, prefect...simply to make things c-clear. Your precious, dear s-secret admirer is not me. I can't have such reput-tation on me, for the sake of Mostro Lounge, you understand...I..."
He falters before forming a smile on his pained, red face.
"...I wouldn't do these things for you."
It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts but it has to be done.
He doesnt deserve you. Not a coward like him...but more like a brave hero.
Jade Leech
Oh my...is everyone this stupid?
Finds the whole ordeal funny. It is flattering in a way to be compared to the secret admirer, the one who seems to have your heart in their hands, but his dorm truly couldn't be that dumb, right?
No evidence whatsoever...just basing it all on his almost picture-perfect attitude.
Which is as flexible as the waves.
Definitely messes with the rest of the school. Oh, is he the admirer now or not? Hm, perhaps. Perhaps not.
Jade finds pleasure in tricking everyone in his usual fashion. However...
He'll have to realize that all good things come to an end. He will absolutely girlboss gatekeep gaslight mess with everyone but he cannot give you any doubts.
No, no. Jade likes to tease you but this whole ordeal of keeping a false identity would just hurt you. And Jade would never hurt you.
"My, my, Prefect...seems like everyone in the school caught the fungi. They believe me to be the secret admirer...flattering but I assure you, if I wanted to, I would have long conquered your heart."
Floyd Leech
HAHAHAHHAHA
Are you serious? Really, really serious?! Oh, this is hilarious!
You must be so dumb!
Floyd cannot stop laughing - guffawing, cackling, snickering, giggling- the whole stick. It is beyond funny that not even one, not two, not three but the majority think him to be the secret admirer!
Wjajfkwnq? Are you stupid? No, seriously, are you?
Have you seen Floyd? Experienced Floyd? The guy's a ticking time bomb full of unpredictability! He may do many things commit crimes if only he could :( but anyone with a brain knows he would not ever pull a 'secret admirer' stunt!
Floyd holds no secrets. His feelings are not secret. Especially his admiration for you.
Well, admiration is a strong word. More like, adoration? Fascination? End to his boredom???
Is it love when he tackles you from behind and hugs you so tight your spine threatens to snap?
Is it love when he lets you off the hook though and protects you from unwanted attention, students and situations? By becoming the bigger problem
It's a bit of a mystery...but what is sure is that unlike his brother, Floyd laughs at the faces of those who believe instead of taking it to his advantage to mess with them.
He won't even really bother to correct any of them, let alone give you any reassurance. He might break it to you unprompted and rather involuntarily.
"Ne, Shrimpy...these guppies are super funny but so dumb. They seriously think I did all that lovey-dovey stuff for you! Kyehehe! Don't they know that I already love you~?"
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#gender neutral imagine#twisted wonderland x reader#octavinelle#octavinelle x reader#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#twst secret admirer#Secret Admirer
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Throne of His Own
This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3
Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
18+ MDNI !!
Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.
Word count: 10.2k
Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).
a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe
— PART I —
You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.
Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.
The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."
With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.
"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."
Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"
"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."
"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"
"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."
Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.
So here I am.
You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.
"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."
You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.
"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.
"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.
"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.
Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.
The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.
You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.
As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.
You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.
Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.
There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.
The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.
To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.
He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.
You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.
This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.
"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.
You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.
His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.
"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."
"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."
Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.
You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.
You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.
Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.
Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.
He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.
Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.
With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.
"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.
You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.
"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.
"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."
"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"
Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."
"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.
Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.
"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."
"And that's where you came in?"
Leon's face went grave.
"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."
The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.
"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."
The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.
You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.
He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.
"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."
Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.
"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."
His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."
Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.
You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.
"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.
"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.
Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."
"And what did you tell 'em?"
"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."
You nodded.
"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.
Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
It's been a long, long day.
You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.
You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.
"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.
"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.
"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.
"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."
His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."
You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."
You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.
You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.
You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.
Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.
After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.
You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.
The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.
Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.
There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.
You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.
One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.
Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.
Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."
He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.
He was just chopping wood.
Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.
Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.
Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.
"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.
"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.
You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."
Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.
While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.
Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.
You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.
You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.
You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.
In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.
But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.
Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."
He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.
Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.
You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.
You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.
You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.
You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.
Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.
You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.
You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.
Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.
"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.
"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."
Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.
"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.
You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.
"How'd it go," you asked between bites.
"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,
"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."
Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"
You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."
You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.
But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.
Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.
Comforting to know there is hope.
You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.
You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.
You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.
It's okay. It's okay.
You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.
Just finish the mission.
— PART II —
A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.
You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.
This wasn't you. But a princess.
A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.
Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.
With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.
He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.
You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.
He did look nice.
Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.
Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.
"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.
You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.
You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.
Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.
The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.
"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.
You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."
The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.
"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.
Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.
Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.
Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."
As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.
Very, very off.
They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.
Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.
This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.
Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.
The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.
You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.
Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."
Leon did not reply to the doorman.
He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.
Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.
You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.
The action sent chills down your spine.
What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?
You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.
Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.
People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.
On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.
Every seat was occupied except for one.
Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.
Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.
Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."
"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"
The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.
Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.
You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.
The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.
You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.
The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.
His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.
You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.
"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.
There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.
Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.
The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.
"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."
The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.
Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.
From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.
Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.
You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.
Your heart raced a little harder.
"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.
"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.
The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.
One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.
Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.
You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.
It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.
It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.
You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.
He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.
He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.
Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.
They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.
He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.
His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.
Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.
You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.
He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.
"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.
You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.
"No."
You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.
The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."
Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.
The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.
Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."
The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."
Thank God.
You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.
They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.
Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.
His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.
You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.
You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.
The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.
His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.
Hunter and hunted.
Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.
The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.
The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.
As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.
In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.
Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.
The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.
There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.
One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."
You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"
Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."
"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.
"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.
"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.
The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.
A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.
You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.
Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.
The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.
It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.
Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."
"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."
You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.
"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.
"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.
Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.
You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.
You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.
It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.
You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.
He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.
But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.
"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.
The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.
As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.
She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.
The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.
Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."
You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"
Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."
"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.
"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.
But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."
"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.
"Unfortunately."
You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.
"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.
"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.
You sighed; there's no point in arguing.
"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."
"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.
"Nope."
Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."
Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.
You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.
Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"
You didn't answer but still struggled.
Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you said so very quietly.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"
You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."
Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.
Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.
Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.
His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—
God damn.
Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.
He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.
You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.
You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.
In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.
The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.
Oh well.
You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.
He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.
The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.
Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.
It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.
But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.
You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.
Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.
You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."
Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."
You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.
Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.
"I hope this is enough for you."
"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.
"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."
He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.
"Goodnight to you, too."
In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.
You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?
Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.
"Leon..." You whispered quietly.
"Yes?"
Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"
Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."
He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.
"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.
He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.
You replied, "Me neither."
Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.
Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.
Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.
Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.
He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.
You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.
Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.
You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.
You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.
You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.
"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.
You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.
God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.
Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.
Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.
Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.
He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.
"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.
You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.
You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.
His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.
His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.
Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.
From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.
With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.
You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.
"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.
He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.
He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.
Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.
Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.
You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.
You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.
Dazed, you whined, "Why."
He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.
Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.
"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.
Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.
The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.
"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."
He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."
"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.
His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.
Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.
His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.
You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.
"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.
He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.
Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.
You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.
"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.
"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.
Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.
Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.
She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."
"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.
Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."
"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.
She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.
Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.
You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.
"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.
As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.
The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.
Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.
"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.
He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.
You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.
"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."
Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.
"Thank you," you said sweetly.
The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.
Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.
part two coming soon xx
#thank you for reading <3#i've been so nervous to post this eek#i hope you like it#academy fics✨#throne of his own#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy smut#resident evil smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon resident evil#leon kennedy fanfic
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any other world - part 2
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au
series masterlist
A/N: there’s no cheating in this story i promise
this chapter is nsfw! minors pls dni
(21)
The sound of another thunder startled you and almost caused you to spill red wine all over the place as you emptied the bottle inside your glass.
Aaron had big plans for that night, fancy restaurant and everything, but the heavy thunderstorm left you no choice but to stay in. You genuinely didn’t mind. You loved nights in with him, feeling like he was only for you.
Full from the pizza you had made earlier, he was laying on the floor with his head on your lap, staring up at you with a drunken smile. You took a big sip from your glass and ran your finger across his face, starting from his forehead, going down his nose and reaching his lips.
He grabbed your hand and brought your wrist to his lips, and as if he was some kind of vampire he bit your wrist. “I wish I could just chew these two letters up and spit them out,” he said, referring to the initials of your own soulmate.
“Can you chew up yours too while you’re at it?”
Aaron reached his hand up to your face and rubbed his thumb on your cheek. “Do you ever get jealous of her?”
“All the time.”
“I’m jealous of the bastard you haven’t even met yet too.”
You grinned at his words, and the gentle stroke on the side of your face turned into a grab of your chin. “You enjoy that, don’t you?” he asked.
“Mhm…” you said, nodding.
He sat up and brought his face close to yours, staring at your lips. “Torturing me…ever since I can remember us.”
“Aw, my poor boy…” you cooed, and gave him a sweet kiss. Already dizzy - a little from the wine and a little from Aaron’s mouth on you - you accidentally spilled what was left in your glass on his shirt.
“Shit, sorry!”
“The lengths you go to just to see me shirtless...” he said, shaking his head in disapproval before taking his shirt off.
You giggled and threw yourself into his arms, quietly begging for another kiss. He was more than happy to give it to you.
“Can I take you here, on the floor?” he whispered.
“Please.”
He gently laid you down and you observed him, letting him undress you and himself.
Growing a bit possessive of him after the events of that year wasn’t something you could really blame yourself for. Staring at him and seeing that deep desire in his eyes made you feel good about yourself. You were the one he wanted so desperately to see naked, you were the one making him hard, you were the one that would make him feel good.
But you weren’t the only one growing possessive. Ever since your own mark had appeared, Aaron was leaving marks all over your body as if it was a competition. Yes you had another man’s initials on your wrist, but it was Aaron’s mouth that had touched every part of your body, and those marks were the evidence.
You wrapped your legs around him and let him fuck you slowly, welcoming every word of praise he would give you.
“You take me so well.”
“Fuck you feel good.”
“Made for me, weren’t you?”
You could swear that sometimes his voice felt as good as his cock.
--
(22)
“Aaron!”
A familiar voice stopped him from walking into the bookshop he had his eye on. The girl had raised her hand to catch his attention, in case her calling out his name wasn’t enough. Her excited smile made him almost sad, so he put on a happy smile to match her energy.
“Haley…I haven’t seen you in a while. How you’ve been?”
“I’m good! Just got a new job, so I’m spending my first paycheck as a reward,” she laughed, and showed him the bags she was holding.
Aaron couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Well, no better feeling, is there?”
“Nope.” Her smile met her eyes. “How are you?” she asked.
“Good. Shopping as well,” he answered, hesitating to get into more details. Maybe it would be hurtful to tell her he was shopping for his girlfriend’s birthday.
Haley had been really understanding and respectful of his feelings, and he didn’t want to hurt hers any further than he already had.
“Books?” she asked, pointing at the bookshop they were standing outside of.
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I join you?”
--
[11.59 pm]
Your phone was in your hand, waiting for your boyfriend to call. He’d call you and sing happy birthday in a very dramatic and very off key tone exactly at midnight, and right after he’d show up with an equally dramatic bouquet of flowers.
It had been a tradition for eight years now and even though you teased him for being too much, you loved that kind of attention on your special day. He never failed to make you feel like a princess.
But then midnight hit, and your phone didn’t ring. Not five minutes later, not ten, not even fifteen.
At exactly 12.30 am, your doorbell rang instead.
Aaron was hiding behind a huge bouquet of roses.
It was just thirty minutes. It was just the half of an hour. It isn’t important. It doesn’t mean anything.
You kept repeating that to yourself when he apologized for being late, for breaking the tradition, for getting you worried. You repeated it when he gave you a first edition of your favorite book. You repeated it when he hugged you, and the scent of another woman’s perfume on his coat made your stomach drop.
--
(45)
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Aaron hadn’t heard your voice in such a long time, that you talking to him would have melted him entirely if it wasn’t for the context of your words. Were you in danger?
He opened his mouth but his voice wouldn’t come out.
“Can we come in?” you asked, your own voice trembling.
We?
His eyes travelled down your body and they caught something moving under your long coat. A tiny arm was wrapped around your leg and a pair of beautiful eyes that looked just like yours looked up at him.
“Of course,” he finally answered.
He stepped aside and made room so you could walk inside his house. You took the hand of the little girl that was attached to your body and entered his home.
A burning feeling of protectiveness took over his chest. If someone had hurt the two of you, he would make sure they’d never see the light of the day again.
He checked the hallway for any suspicious movement and after making sure it was safe, he followed you into the house and locked his door.
“Y/N,” he said, but you raised your hand to cut him off.
“I’ll explain everything. We’re fine. I just…I needed a safe place…and some legal advice.”
“Who are you hiding from?”
“My husband. Ex-husband.”
His blood boiled. If that man had laid a hand on you or your daughter he would burn him alive.
“Are you alone?” you asked.
“Yeah. It’s just me and my son. He’s sleeping.”
A sweet expression appeared on your face at the mention of his son. He could relate to the feeling of seeing the person you grew up with being a parent.
You were kids just yesterday. And now you had your own.
Your little girl was looking up at him, with an intimidated expression. He was aware that his large frame and angry eyebrows could maybe scare a kid. So he walked closer, squatted down and smiled at her.
“Hello, little one.”
She waved instead of replying, but that was enough for him. She seemed more shy that scared.
“I’m Hotch. What’s your name?” he asked, gently.
“Leila.”
Aaron looked up at you, and found you already staring at him. He knew that the same memory of the two of you planning your future had flashed in front of your eyes.
“Nice to meet you Leila. You’re safe here with me, okay?”
She nodded her head a few times. “Okay. Mommy said you are best friends.”
“We are,” he answered, without a second thought.
tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie @jxvipike @ttokkisbee @geminitapestry @rae-pottah @the-night-viewer @i-am-funsize @louderfortheback @hasu-ko @rousethemouse @hotchs-bitch
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you, my golden hour
Rancher!Javier Peña x Cowgirl!Reader
summary: 1997. as a fallen rodeo star, you can handle anything - except maybe your city’s hometown hero
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, Post Season 3 Javi works on his family’s ranch AU, unspecified age gap (only age mention is reader can drink and Javi is older), major pining & yearning, emotional hurt & comfort, light angst with tender fluff, reader has a backstory and family, no physical description of reader but gendered language is used and reader can ride a horse, use of pet/nicknames, mention/description of rodeo accident, themes of dealing with burnout, small texas town toxicity, light Spanish use, reader & javi having insecurities they bond/heal over, bar scene with alcohol consumption, spicy moments with allusions to smut, intense makeout where Javi gets handsy, soft!Javi, dreamy & protective!Javi
word count: 10.2k (I’m sorry)
a/n: the second installment of ‘let’s rodeo’ and my love letter to Javi & Texas, the heart of this series - this fic is near & dear to me and I just appreciate getting the chance to write this, so to @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy & @perotovar for giving me the courage to post this know I’m so grateful… and to you reading this thank you, so dearly appreciate you too ♡
You haven’t thought of Javier Peña in years.
Older than you, he was handsome and had a smile that rivaled the Texas Friday night lights. He eventually hooked up with the number one town sweetheart who was even rumored to have won a local state beauty contest.
By the time you heard of their engagement, you already had started your plans for the circuits, for the road. You didn’t mourn or even feel heartbroken over the news.
Even after that, the rodeo consumed you. It kept you in a tornado like whirl for years until that fateful day it spat you out.
When that ride stopped, Javier Peña came back into your mind with a strange fog-like entrance.
While still on bed rest, the news on the TV had been showing a small special on the War on Drugs and the lull of it filled the room.
Your grandmother was the one who brought him up.
“That’s what Chucho’s son is involved in.”
“Wait, Javier Peña’s into drugs?” You asked a bit confused even without the pain killers.
“No. He’s going after the people who sell drugs.” She clarified.
Oh.
“He also didn’t get married either. Do you remember?” She had added.
You did. You heard he left the little Miss Homecoming Queen at the altar. Quite a scandal that made him the talk of the town for a while.
Then he became a big shot drug enforcer who took down one of the largest drug cartels in history and he again became the talk of the town.
It’s been a few years since your accident and now Javier Peña is back home.
Now driving into the Peña ranch you feel both so young, yet so aged at the same time, like you’re stuck between two realities.
Your sister bounces out of the truck with uncontainable glee and you’re grateful she’s excited.
Chucho Peña comes to greet everyone. His classic cream cowboy hat and gentle smile are all a beautiful welcome. It’s also adorable seeing your grandpa reunite with his old friend.
Señor Peña’s kind eyes eventually land on you with a sweet twinkle.
“It’s good to see you, mija.”
You’ve always adored Chucho Peña.
His son on the other hand…
You never knew Javier enough to fully know him. Even with his dad and your grandpa being pals, the years between you and Javier didn’t help. He existed outside your orbit, a figure almost out of reach.
“And that son of yours!?” Your grandpa of course perks up asking about him.
“Ah sí Javi’s here, just out in the stables.” Chucho explains casually.
The last time you physically saw Javier Peña he was walking out of the bank. You’d been waiting in your family truck when he stepped out. By that point, a small bit of shadow was forming against his jaw and upper lip as his facial hair began to grow thick. He was a young man on the verge of stepping into the threshold of being grown.
Now before you he’s a fully grown man.
For a minute you think the man in the barn is someone else because it doesn’t seem like Javier.
Yet when he turns, you see his eyes.
Rich soil of the earth stunning eyes and you know it’s him.
His body has filled out and his shoulders even look broader. He sports a similar mustache like his father’s and it adds to his older appearance. There’s a weathered weariness on his face evident in the wrinkles carved out by his eyes and on his forehead.
The button up shirt he’s wearing allows a peek at his chest and his skin shines with sweat from the Texas sun already shining its warmth.
He’s breathtakingly stunning and you can’t take your eyes off him.
He warmly greets your grandpa with a wide smile that touches his eyes and brightens his face. He’s still that charming young man you saw, a brilliant comet out of your galaxy.
But then his gaze lands on you and his eyes narrow. A conflicting recognition and confusion swirl in his eyes. He knows you, seems to remember you, but not fully.
His dad clarifies your name and you deflate a bit. Then Javier’s eyes go wide and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.
So, he does remember you.
“Oh, yeah. Good to see you.” He nods fully realizing who you are.
“Guess the horse must be for you then?” Javier adds and your heart sinks a bit.
A grimace tugs on your face but you try recovering quickly.
“No mijo,” Chucho thankfully answers quick and gentle. “I told you, it’s for her hermanita.”
You grin small and tight in agreement.
“Oh…yeah of course.” He nods.
Your little sister immediately jumps in bright and eager to share her excitement. Thankfully the focus effortlessly shifts to her and the reason why you’re all here.
The horse is beautiful, playful and eager for attention. This first meeting already feels good. Of course, everyone holds their breaths when your sister goes for the ride.
And it couldn’t have gone more smoothly.
You even exhale relieved.
“You seemed nervous.” A smooth warm voice comes out besides you.
As you lean against the ring’s fence you discover Javier Peña moving to rest beside you.
“Just like the first day of school kinda nerves. Want to make sure everything goes smoothly.” You answer as your sister effortlessly trots around the ring with ease.
“Yeah, I bet. They already seem to be clicking.” Javier notes genuine and you’re grateful too.
Your grandfather now calls out to you.
Both you and Javier turn towards where the older men stand close to each other like conspiring headaches.
“To celebrate, we’re having dinner here!” Your grandpa cheers happily and a dread drop kicks your heart.
Immediately you stammer out panicked about how you all can’t impose.
“No pasa nada, mija.” Senor Peña gently reassures you saying not to worry. “Besides, you’re all more than welcome here. It’s been a while since Javi and I had guests.”
You don’t miss the unashamed hum Javier makes.
“And grandma?” You reply, trying to reach for more excuses not to stay.
“She can walk.” Your sister teases suddenly and you give her a sharp look.
“Will you go pick her up, please?” Your grandpa gives you his best pleading face before simply throwing the truck keys to you
Stubborn old man.
“Hijo,” Señor Peña calls out again, but this time to his son. “You should go too.”
Shit.
“No Pop, it’s okay!” Javi politely declines and you want to second that.
“Aye,” His dad chides and then he pointedly gives Javier a look that screams - Don’t be rude, go with her.
Damn.
The walk to the truck is quiet, awkward as hell, feels like two parents shoving their kids together to play nice.
Heading into the main part of town, silence fills most of the drive. You're also mentally kicking yourself for not getting the radio fixed last week like you should’ve.
“So uh, your grandma…still volunteering at the women’s shelter?” Until Javier offers a small branch of conversation.
“Yup.” You nod.
“Oh good, that’s good.” He replies.
But silence returns.
“So, you taking a break from the rodeo then? Pop used to tell me about you all the time.” Javier comments light, casual.
You feel like a cat with its hairs standing up. But even with that sensation, knowing Señor Peña spoke so fondly of you does simmer the sting.
“Sort of.” You decide to rip this off like a bandaid, get it over with now. “Had a bad accident a while back. Still haven’t decided if I wanna return.”
It’s been two years since you’ve been home.
“Oh…” Javier’s voice drops, the same way everyone does when you tell them.
“I’m sorry.” Except you’re surprise at how sincerely soft his voice is. “I thought I heard something about it. I should’ve fucking remembered… Sorry.”
He apologizes again, surprising you once more as genuine repentance floats off his voice.
You thank him understandingly. After all, it's one of the better responses you’ve been given. But you don’t want to dig into this, especially with him, so you quickly change the conversation.
“So how long are you here for? I’m sure there must be other drug cartels waiting for you to take them down.” You offer casual.
Not only had he taken down Pablo Escobar a while back, you briefly heard of his very recent grand move against the other cartel in Columbia.
He’s impressive, the town’s hero and golden boy.
“Uh actually, I’m retired. Gonna take a step back for a bit.” Javier answers just as polite and calm as you had answered him.
Oh. You hadn’t heard that. Or maybe you did and forgot.
You now feel like the foolish one and genuinely congratulate him.
“It takes a lot to decide when to step away. Besides, you deserve a break after all you did.” You mean those words.
After all, they were the same comforting words his father told you when you came back home.
A pause fills the truck and you worry you’ve maybe overstepped.
“I…yeah.” Javier breathes out. “Thanks. Appreciate that.”
Your heart flutters at how small and genuine he sounds.
“So…how about them Dallas Cowboys, huh?” Javier offers light and for some reason you laugh.
It’s not much, but it feels like a lifeline.
When you arrive to pick up your grandmother she gasps so giddy when she sees the surprise guest with you. Her excitement lights up the drive while she talks about her day taking full advantage of having Javier listening to her.
“Oh I’m so glad you’re back home safe Javi!” She gushes and then says your name.
You’re already panicking.
“With so many of your friends living out of town, maybe you’ll get to spend more time back in the city with Javier!?” She offers to you brightly and absolute horror seizes your heart.
Shooting a petrified face at her you silently plead for this discussion to die.
Javier in the back seat weakly laughs. Because of course Javier, ever the gentleman, had your grams sitting up front.
“Oh don’t give me that look.” Your grandma playfully teases back at you. “At least go rent a movie with him.”
The thought crosses your mind about turning around and dropping her back off.
“Did you know,” Javier innocently jumps in. “The first ever blockbuster was opened in Dallas?”
Your grandma coos in awe as if he’s just explained a miracle.
“See! Now you have to go with him to one!” She urges.
A horrified indignant noise escapes you. While behind you, Javier snickers even more and you’re tempted to drop him off on the side of the road to let the coyotes feast on him.
The minute you arrive at the Peña’s home you can’t get out of the truck fast enough.
Dinner fortunately goes smooth and you’re surprised at how eased the rest of the time unfolds. You do hate how many times your eyes flicker towards Javier like if you’re still trying to soak him in.
Then, from across the table, Javier’s gaze flickers to you fast catching you staring red handed. Your heart transforms into a jackrabbit, petrified and thumping fast, almost making you flee right then and there.
Until your grandpa addresses you. His warm eyes dance with a surprise in his gaze.
“We’ve decided to have some of your sister's training here.”
Your heart now skips over itself.
Your gramps and sister both explain the plan hatched while you were on the road. In order to get used to competing in different spaces, your sister decided to train here at the Peña’s.
You’re hesitant, but understand the logic. You’re even impressed. But you can’t pinpoint why you’re so nervous about this.
Señor Peña now calls to you, sensing your hesitation, and tenderly grins.
“Don’t worry mija,” his kind eyes crinkle with understanding. “It’s no trouble at all.”
His reassurance is grace and you smile back relieved while thanking him deeply.
“Seems like you’re the boss here.” Javier suddenly joins in with a casual tone and you freeze.
“Well yeah, that’s my coach you’re talking to.” Your sister proudly declares.
“Coach?” Javier’s voice perks up curious.
“Yeah.” You answer with a small smile. “That’s me.”
“Been barking orders at me all these years so why not put her in charge.” Your sister innocently adds and in pure sobbing annoyance you want to shove her face into her plate.
Thankfully everyone laughs, illuminating the room.
But you’re faced with a new reality. You’re going to be here more, seeing Javier Peña more.
And you don’t know how you feel about that yet.
-
The Peña ranch in the morning sits tranquil and the peace gives you the focus on training.
You’re surprised at how good your sister and the mare already bond. You explain a few drills and have your sister run a few repetitions of them.
“You sound like a tough one.” Javier’s voice surprises you and you almost jump over the fence.
Glancing back, he approaches you with two thermoses.
“Pop and I thought you might need an extra pick me up.” He offers and you can’t help but greedily grab at it.
“Tell your dad thanks and that he’s a saint.”
Javier snorts at your reply.
Now your focus returns to your sister. You recommend a type of turning drill vividly remember doing yourself. Your sister playfully salutes you and begins.
“How she looking, coach?” Him calling you ‘coach’ draws a dangerous electricity that snaps up your spine.
“Don’t call me coach.” You dryly tell him trying to keep yourself composed.
“Well isn’t that what you are?” He teases casually.
Your face scrunches up annoyed while his eyes crinkle amused.
“Don’t you have things to do, Javier Peña?” You sigh, already exhausted of this man.
“Javi…you can just call me Javi, coach.”
You’re tempted to childishly scoot away from him. Younger you would have never imagined he was this annoying.
“Don’t call me coach.” You dully repeat.
“Okay, coach.”
Now you contemplate just shoving him away.
But all the annoyance washes away when commotion hits. The horse makes a disgruntled whinny and immediately both you and Javier whip your attention towards the ring. Your sister calmly stays on the saddle, gently soothing down her companion.
After asking if she’s good, her eased thumbs up reassures you. She does a few trots to calm everyone down. You even exhale relieved.
“You lost in thought?” Javier comments.
“Yeah.” You answer him with a mutter. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You almost don’t tell him. But you surprise yourself and do.
You explain the type of pace that comes with training in barrel racing. There’s a pattern and method to it all. You don’t realize you’ve rambled until you blink and realize Javier stares so directly at you. His eyebrows furrow slightly as if he’s focused hard listening to your words.
Embarrassed, you’re about to stammer out an apology when Javier whistles low.
“You know your fucking shit.” He nods appreciatively and hearing his pride ignites something dangerous in your chest.
Another surprise sharp whistle comes. Out from the barn, a further ways away, Chucho stands staring out. He even waves at you and you wave back.
“You gonna work today, hijo?” He calls out.
Javier curses under his breath.
“Busted.” You joke and now he’s the one side eying you.
“Please you’re the one slacking off here!” Your baby sister suddenly complains loud and cheeky “You’re not getting paid by the hour, coach!”
“Guess we’re both in trouble.” Javier snickers.
You roll your eyes but quickly sneer at your smiling sister.
“Alright then. See ya later…bandita.” Javier already walks away by the time you hear his goodbye.
But it hits you.
He thankfully stopped calling you coach. But now, what replaced it…
Little Bandit.
The nickname rips through you with a barbed fierceness you’re not prepared for.
The rest of the month follows this same routine.
On training days Javier shows up with something for you to drink. Once he even came with a few goods from the bakery across town.
No matter what, he watches practice with you for as long as he can before getting called back to the ranch.
During these moments together, he asks about how the turns are made or why you correct your sister when you do. It’s friendly. You actually start enjoying his company especially when your grandfather so eagerly leaves to hang out with Chucho instead.
The greetings and thanks are always the same.
“Thanks, Peña.”
“Javi,” he patiently corrects you everytime.
You can’t bring yourself to call him that just yet.
At the start of the new month everyone sleeps in and arrives later to the Peña’s ranch.
This time you’ve brought more barrels. Thankfully you can move them with the help of your sister. Suddenly besides you, boots clamor onto the truck and rapidly you snap your attention to the source of the sound.
Javier Peña smoothly climbs up to help you with the rest of the barrels.
He’s in a striking soft purple button up shirt. Sweat already shines against his bare arms. Thick worn in working gloves cover his hands. His hair seems a bit curlier today and he wears aviator sunglasses that suit his face.
Effortlessly Javier grabs onto one and lifts it by himself.
You’re stunned. Even your sister stops and stares just as surprised.
Javier is strong. Doesn’t seem like the muscular type but he’s built and radiates a type of seasoned strength of a well grown man, a rancher man.
His arms firmly hold the barrel, sturdy and toned, and you can’t look away.
“Where d’ya want me to put it?” Javier yells and you trip out of your thoughts to dumbly point where the barrel needs to be placed.
Your grandfather whistles proudly seeing Javier.
“If this rancher thing doesn’t work out for you Jav, you got the makings of a fine rodeo man.” Your grandpa teases.
Javier chuckles, with his eyes averted a bit bashful.
“Could add him to the team.” Your grandpa notes with a twinkling gleam of something mischievous.
You reply a dry no as you move to get off the truck.
In a flash, Javier jogs over and immediately reaches his hand out to help you get down. Placing your hand in his, Javier helps you down and you thank him.
He’s wearing gloves. This shouldn’t feel so significant. Yet the way he firmly holds your hand makes your heart sprout wings.
Even back on the solid dirt ground your legs don’t feel as if they’re under you.
Javier doesn’t stick around after that and you’re allowed to focus.
It’s later in the day, later than the usual practice times, and the Texas sun beats down with a fierceness. You call for more water breaks to keep everyone hydrated.
During a break, a rustling catches your attention. There towards the barn, Javi moves in and around the place.
You just catch the smallest glimpse of him with a hammer in his hand as he heads into the smaller enclosure. Curiosity gets the best of you.
Grabbing another water bottle you justify it as wanting to be polite, but curiosity gnaws at you.
The clang of hammering approaches louder and louder until you spot him in a goat pen. He hammers in a reinforced slab, probably fixing a hole. His back to you allows a glorious full sight of his broad shoulders at work.
He even switches to a drill and watching him casually use power tools, you never thought you’d find this so attractive.
One of the goats nearby makes a blep of a noise at your appearance and you almost want to shush them.
Javier glances over his shoulders spotting you.
“Hey there, bandita. Qué pasó?” he nods at you as the nickname flares up your heart.
“Just…knew how hot it was getting and gramps told me just to check up on you.” You lie waving the water bottle.
Javier turns to face you and you’re greeted with the sight of his full sweaty glory. You should be turned off seeing how bad his shirt sticks to him, how he smells of hay and dirt, but it’s incredibly hot.
The hard work of his day evident on every inch of him brews a dark cloud of desire in you.
“Oh well, tell your gramps thanks.” He replies snagging the water bottle from you.
His plus lips, the glorious sight of his thick slick neck, and the movement of the sweat just covering him as he drinks from the water bottle…
Getting this weak over the sight of him just drinking a water bottler you now think is the lowest you can go. You wonder about walking down by the river nearby and just jumping in to cool down.
From a distance, your sister yells out for you.
“Duty calls.” Javier smirks. With a sheepish smile you shrug then wave a quick goodbye.
You practically run out of that barn like a fleeing field mouse.
Later that night, alone in your room, your fingers slip under your sheets to slide under your sleep shorts. You imagine licking the sweat off Javier’s neck, picture his thick strong fingers, that fix up barns, hoist up barrels, and wonder how thick they would feel inside you.
You fall into desire’s blissful sticky release.
When you shower the next morning, you rationalize that those thoughts of Javier simply come from needing to scratch an itch.
Besides, you couldn’t get tangled with Javier. He’s older. He’s Laredo’s golden boy. He doesn’t go after broken cowgirls like you.
In the shower you turn the heat up more. A part of you hopes it will scorch off the building desire in your heart.
-
The morning is muggy, a soupy cloudy early day begging you to curl back into bed. Soft chirping echoes of the mockingbirds fill the air. You opted for earlier practices this week so your sister could prepare for a trip with her friends coming up. You agreed, wanting her to still enjoy moments outside of this.
“You out here all alone, bandita?” Javier.
He breaks the morning’s stillness. Holding his routine two drinks, he approaches you bundled up in a nice jacket that flatters him.
Thanking him, you greedily grab the drink and savor its warmth.
You explain that your sister is free roaming around the ranch this morning and it’s why you’re all alone. You stare at the empty riding area where the dirt sits holy and untouched.
“Do you miss it?” Javier asks. His voice is quietly probing, gentle as the morning mist.
That question holds a million answers all tied up in a messy knot.
“Sometimes.” You answer truthfully because you did. You missed the adrenaline, the wind blowing past you, speeding around a barrel so fast it was like you were out running the wind.
“Can I ask…” Javier and his soft, kind voice presses on. “What happened?”
Might as well. You’re now sort of friends with Javier even though the word feels sticky in your heart.
“You know that saying about how you just gotta get back on the horse? Well it's easier said than done.” You mutter.
It happened during a ride in Arizona. You’ve fallen and wrecked before. But this one just felt different. You took a barrel close and then everything slipped away. You remember being on the saddle, remember feeling your body float. Then the world went dark.
You woke up to a nasty concussion, a broken arm, and a couple of rowdy scrapes. You don’t remember your foot getting caught in the stirrup, but that’s what had happened.
“Holy fuck...” Javier breathes out, the weight of your words hang in his. “Shit I’m sorry.”
You thank him earnestly and reassure him it’s fine, just unfortunate shit like that happens. Everyone knew how dangerous the sport could get. The rodeo was a rough ride and every cowboy knew that.
But for you, you just couldn’t shake it off.
“I’m glad you made it out.” Sincerity blooms in his voice and your lips tug grateful at how considerate he is as you thank him again.
“You haven’t gone back?” Now he dances on a tight line.
“Nope. I tried after getting the clearance from the doctors but… it just didn’t go well.” You truthfully tell him.
You didn’t want to ride anymore, didn’t want to face everyone or the pressure of the race or the terror swallowing you whole. It felt as if you were burnt dry and exhausted from the inside out.
Your grandma gently embraced you and held you for what felt like hours.
“Then don’t go. You don’t have to do anything that makes you this worried and sick. Nothing is worth you being this scared, not even the damn rodeo.” She told you tenderly and with the most profoundly kind smile. You cried out of relief.
“It’s brave,” Javier says so firmly understanding. “Making a decision like that is really fucking brave, hard as fuck too.”
You gently grin and thank him again while blinking away a few tears.
“Same goes for you too.” You tell him.
From your gramps, who had gotten the full story from Chucho, you learned more about what happened with Javier and his final days in Columbia.
“I don’t know much but, what you did was brave too.” Your voice comes out softer than you expected.
He barks a laugh now. It’s dry, bitter, and can catch fire.
“Doesn't feel like it.”
You understand maybe more than he even knows. So you think about maybe what you would’ve told yourself.
“You did what was right.” You begin. “Everyone else might judge you or say shit but it doesn't matter. You’re not meant to please everyone or do what everyone expects you to do. And if that’s seen as a bad thing then…I don’t know, fuck them and fuck that.”
You say it so simply Javier busts out laughing. It’s a true blue laugh, so sweet it crinkles his beautiful dirt road eyes.
You’ve never seen him laugh like this before. And he’s beautiful.
You join in snickering as well but try to ignore the butterflies suddenly nesting in your stomach.
He’s really such a dream. A carved out Texas man so seasoned from the world, yet he still stays so kind and devoted to his family.
You get why many in the town, especially the girls during your time in high school, are all over him. Now you’re afraid you might’ve fallen into the same pit traps they did.
You’re falling under the spell of Javier Peña.
“So you’re really not going back to catching drug dealers and what not?” You ask when the laughter settles.
“I could’ve.” Javi answers. “Damn DEA would’ve taken me back. But…I just couldn’t see a future with it anymore.”
“And now here I am.” He says with a boyish soft grin.
“Now here you are”. You repeat with a nod.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” You truthfully tell him. You knew his dad worried about him. But the quiet truth is that you’re grateful for this time getting to know him now.
His eyes soften and your heat bursts.
“Thanks, glad I’m here. Glad you’re here too, bandita.” Then he softly nudges you. It’s playfully, friendly but it’s his words that almost take you out by the knees.
“Anyway, the government’s dumb. They don't deserve you.” You nod and Javier snorts amused.
“Guess I should listen to a cowgirl like you.” He teases.
You shrug. “Some people say I’m not one anymore.”
Especially because you didn’t ride anymore.
“Fuck them and fuck that.” He repeats your words and your lips twitch with a bubbling giggle.
Right now, it feels like you and him are two lonely birds sitting on a wire. Yet there’s something comforting about it, knowing it’s with him.
Then it dawns on you. You enjoy spending time with him. You know there’s desire already trickling in for him. But now he’s becoming someone precious to you.
You can’t even deny that anymore.
“Thanks, Javi.”
You don’t miss the way his eyebrows shoot up high.
Thunder roars suddenly clashing into the air interrupting the moment.
The dark clouds now loom on the horizon and coat the morning in an impending murkiness.
“Guess a storm’s coming in.” Javi mumbles.
Thankfully your sister rides back in quick and Javi decides to do some final things around the ranch before the storm rolls in. Before the rain comes, you and your sister pack up quickly. But it’s too late.
The rain pours down in a blink, almost like a hole in the sky popped to let a faucet drain out. The wind even picks up dangerously quick. It’s chaotic trying to wrangle the hose back to the stables but you and your sister manage.
“Come inside!” Gramps yells from the Peña’s porch and you and your sister scurry to the shaded sanctuary.
“You coming in?” Your sister asks while drying herself off with a towel. You don’t move from your spot by the steps.
“I’ll be in a bit.” You reassure her. She glares suspiciously and you shoo her away.
Javi hasn’t come back yet.
Noises clang out from the barn. A poisonous worry erupts through you and immediately you rush back out into the rain.
Inside the barn Javi tries yanking up a barn ladder that’s fallen over. It’s sturdy, wooden, and stuck in a hard position.
You move to help. Without any words or having to explain anything you both, as a team, work to yank the ladder out. Patiently and slowly the ladder gets moved to a spot the wind won’t knock it over.
The rush of it all has you breathing heavy.
“Thanks bandita.”
You breathlessly laugh and turn to maybe make a joke about now becoming a ranch hand and stealing his job. But all words, all thoughts, die instantly.
Having to work together to push the ladder, you now notice how close you are to him.
The sight of Javi soaked to the bone from the rain is corruptible. His clothes stick to him showing off his thick frame and shoulders. His drenched hair now seems darker with the curls more pounced.
He’s also heavily breathing too.
Now his lips, how soft and wet they look, have you hypnotized.
The pattering rain pours down hard on the roof, the only noise in the barn. You notice a shift in Javier. His eyes ever so slightly soften, almost hazing over. You might just be imaging it, but his face gradually seems to lean closer. Or maybe, you’re the one leaning towards him.
You’re possessed with an ache to kiss him, to see how the rain tastes on his lips.
It’s just you and him, soaked to the bone. You probably look like a drenched mess of a creature, but you’ve never wanted someone this much.
“Aye!”
Chucho suddenly shouts out from outside the barn and your heart stops.
Like a skittish roadrunner, you scramble away fast from Javier and just in time. His dad walks in from the other side of the barn holding an umbrella with an extra in his hand.
“You kids okay?” He calls out.
Both you and Javi yell back, quickly moving towards the elder Peña.
“You two look like a couple of soaked barn cats.” Chucho teases.
You weakly laugh and thank him for the umbrella.
Javi grumbles at his dad while he grabs the umbrella to open it up. Ever chivalrous, Javier holds it above you and him. Yet the entire walk to the house is quiet.
Fuck. Did you ruin this tentative whatever was forming between you and him? Or were you just imagining things?
You stay quiet the rest of the time waiting out the storm.
“You okay?” Your sister, keen as always, notices.
You lie with a smile saying the weather’s getting to you. When in reality, it’s a man that has.
Because you can’t stop thinking about Javier Peña now.
-
The rain stays for the rest of the week and everyone takes the schedule changes with stride. Your sister even heads out earlier on her trip earlier during a lighter drizzle.
By Saturday night the storm settles down.
Your closest friend from high school, now back in town for the month, even calls your home phone begging you to take advantage of the better weather.
“Look, before I go back to Florida let’s enjoy a nice night out, yeah? Maybe play some pool?” She pleads.
It’s how you now find yourself at the bar. You haven’t gotten dressed up in a while and you’re reminded of how nice it feels.
As much as you jokingly fussed about going out, being with your best friend laughing at the bar is lovely.
Ricky, one of the bartenders, actually was in the same grade as you two and it’s nice reminiscing, snickering over a nice drink.
“So how’s it been hanging out with Mr. Hero of the town himself?” Your friend smirks.
You make an unamused face at her while Ricky perks up.
“Wait, who are you hanging out with?” He whispers excitedly.
“Javier Peña.” Excitedly, she spills and you roll your eyes when Ricky gasps.
“You’ve fallen for the guy half the county is in love with!?” He hisses. You hate it, but it’s true and tastes soberly cold.
“Okay but practically all of our class was and maybe still is in love with him.” Your best friend adds.
“Well y’all do remember, he left Lorraine Wilson at the altar right?” Ricky reminds everyone and your mouth turns acidic.
“Oh fuck you’re right.” Your friend whispers.
“Might be bad news.” Ricky tensely tells you.
You want to hiss that he’s not like that. He’s kind, a bit annoying, but with a good heart.
“Shit, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Ricky says in a low awed tone.
Worried you whip around to see what caught his attention. Absolute horror drowns you.
Javi and another man step into the bar and you want to run.
Your best friend squeals excited beside you, but you can’t comprehend what she says. Javier has stolen your attention.
Ricky called him the devil and he does seem like an angel dipped in temptation.
The sleek blazer he wears is dressed down by his nice button up shirt and jeans. His hair is styled nice, seeming so soft and begging for someone’s fingers to run through it. A buzz swarms in your head seeing him outside the ranch looking this gorgeous.
That’s when he spots you. For a split moment you two see each other. His eyes widen and before anyone can react you whip back towards the bar.
“Looks like you’re about to fall outta your seat.” Ricky snickers and you death glare at him.
“Okay,” your friend nudges you. “The guy he’s with, I think that’s David Martinez. He was in Peña’s class right? He’s so hot now, what the fuck?” She breathes out.
You almost toast to that because you felt the same about Javier.
So you keep your head down, enjoy your drink and maybe wonder about suggesting that game of pool your best friend advertised.
“Would you two beauties be alright with a bit of company?” A sweet male voice comes out and immediately draws the attention to him.
Behind you stands Javier Peña and his friend.
David has always been kind to your family and his mom even worked with your grandma at the shelter. You appreciate that Javi still hangs out with him.
“Yes of course. We’d love some company, right?” Your friend brightly asks you and you smile polite.
Your heart however rages like it’s a wild bucking bronco trying to break free.
The guys buy a round of drinks. Everyone laughs reminiscing about that one famous senior prank where the class managed to get two cows into the school.
The atmosphere is friendly, light. But your eyes constantly flicker nervously to Javi. You can’t stop staring at him, can’t stop thinking about him. Now here he is a Texas dream, or maybe your nightmare.
You turn back to take another sip and in that shift, your best friend turns to direct all her attention to David who moves to sit beside her.
But now Javier smoothly slides into the barstool next to you.
“Nice to see you outside the ranch.” His voice comes out smooth and rich.
You agree. But the air turns awkward, as if neither of you know how to tackle this new situation.
Suddenly heels clicking fast arrive. Standing to the side is a girl you recognize from your sister’s class that just graduated high school.
“Hi,” she smiles, staring at Javi with obvious hearts in her eyes.
He politely but cautiously greets her back.
“I was, um, wondering if you wanted to maybe dance with me?” She’s bold. You can at least appreciate that.
“My friends all dared me to ask you since it’s, ya know, you.” She gushes and giggles.
“Uh, appreciate the thought but I’ll have to pass, sorry.” He turns her down gently.
As if she finally realizes you even existed her eyes blink to you.
“Oh hey!” She recognizes you as an older sister to one of her classmates. And then for something else.
“Yeah didn’t you like, used to be a rodeo cowgirl or something and then something happened so now you’re not doing anything anymore?”
She’s being underlyingly mean. Her misleading chipper tone, vapid smile, are all soaked in venom meant to shake you or even scare Javi away from you.
But you’re used to it by now. You’re about to comment how she shouldn’t even be here.
Javier however speaks first and fast.
“Hey,” Javier’s voice jumps shockingly sharply, almost reprimanding. Your eyes go wide at how fast he reacts. He even glares at the girl.
Besides you, your best friend immediately turns around.
“Oh hey!” She greets the young newcomer. “Weren’t you that girl caught buying weed only for the cops to figure out you were actually buying oregano?”
Her cheerful tone makes you bust out a snort because yeah, she’s right.
The girl’s face falls absolutely mortified.
“Now get the fuck out of here.” Your dear friend finishes sweet but the undercurrent of her voice looms threatening. The disgraced girl rushes away before she can even reply.
You wheeze into your hand and fondly lean against your dearest sweet friend.
“If she or any of her little punk ass friends try anything again, I’ll shove my heel so far up their asses.” She reassures.
“Don’t worry,” Ricky now jumps in. “I’m definitely telling our bouncer those little shits managed to sneak in.”
Gratitude carves out an ocean in you and you’re thankful for those who understand.
David whistles appreciatively and your friend, with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, returns to her discussion with him.
You feel Javier’s eyes burning on you.
“Does shit like that happen often?” His concerned and low voice floats out among the music.
You shrug.
“Back when I first came back it did, but it's dying down.”
You were supposed to be a big rodeo star. You even had an official big name brand sponsorship lined up. But, after the accident, not returning to the rodeo painted you a failure in the eyes of the town.
Especially compared to its bright shining star you sit beside.
Suddenly a warmth slides over your hand resting on the bar. Javier squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring comfort.
“I’m sorry.” He mutters deeply sad. “S’fucking awful.”
You thank him, even make a dry joke about small town bullshit which earns you a small dry chuckle.
“The shit I got after Lorraine…” he sighs and now you find his hand doesn’t leave yours. You don’t want it to.
“I get it. Shit’s brutal.” He finishes, a steeled hardness lingering in his tone.
Now your hand squeezes his.
His eyes, gleaming tiger’s eyes gemstones, flicker up to you and you smile softly.
Javi’s hand feels so lovely. It's rough, a bit callous but cozy. Just like him.
“Hey!” Your best friend suddenly cheers. “Let’s dance!”
She interrupts the moment but you can’t blame her. A hesitant scrunched up reaction tugs at your face though.
“It’s a slow dance.” You waver.
“That’s the best kind! Come on!” She urges and you spot her hand already intertwining with the guy’s.
“You go,” you urge with a beaming grin. “I wanna finish my drink.”
“Aw, come on now bandita,” now Javi slides off his seat.
Standing up straight, he extends his hand out to you.
“You gotta at least get one dance in.” He smirks.
It’s just one dance and you don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to dance with him. That thought alone outweighs the hesitation. Placing your hand in his, Javier leads you out to the dance floor.
Javi maintains a polite distance from you. Yet the faintest scent of his cologne floats off him, a siren’s song pure of temptation. His hand keeps yours in its protective hold while he gently guides you to the beat of the music.
Being this close to him clouds your focus in a tantalizing haze begging you to get lost in. But you can’t. You can’t even stare into his eyes. So your focus flickers out to the rest of the bar.
David and your best friend dance close, already getting cozy with each other. Then your eyes move to the door.
The bar’s bouncer sternly starts throwing the three girls out and the one you recognize stares at you with disgusted hatred.
You snort.
“What?” Javi mutters, his voice silky against the low music.
You nudge your head towards the bar’s entrance and Javi follows your gaze.
“Oh hey.” He comments, noticing the scene.
“Good riddance. Poor girl must be pissed seeing you dance with someone me though.” You mutter a bit gleeful at the thought.
“Wait, what?” Javi sounds insulted.
“Uh yeah,” you reply, confused. “I mean, it’s kinda funny. You’re Mr. hometown hero here with the town’s nobody.”
“No.” Javier snaps fast. “Anyone who says or believes that’s a pinché cabrón.”
They’re a fucking asshole and the way he speaks with a conviction refuses to allow any doubt to refute him.
“And besides…I’m not a hero.” That’s when Javi’s voice drops, transforming into a whisper tangled among the slow country ballad playing.
“I’m not that golden bullshit guy everyone thinks I am.” His voice contains a stinging rawness you recognize.
Now you’re the one snapping back at him.
“Yeah you are. You’re good, Javi.” You begin firm.
“You’re noble and kind. Brave.” The words flow from your heart and you don’t even stop them. “You’ve worked hard to help people. I’m sure there’s shit you regret and you might not think you’re good because of it, but you are.”
He stays silent. Only the tune of the slow jam settles between you and him. You’re worried you’ve maybe said something to upset him.
Then Javier exhales your name and it has never sounded so tender.
Your throat tightens and when you finally look at him, you’re greeted by a galaxy.
The lights of the bar dance in his dark road eyes that stare directly at you as if the rest of the bar has melted away. Javi’s hand gingerly against your back now slides down gently. In that same motion, he slowly begins drawing you to him.
You don’t resist and catch his eyes flickering to your lips.
A sudden clamoring collision erupts and startled, you clutch onto Javi.
The cause of the commotion is a man who tripped into some chairs. He effortlessly laughs it off. The group he’s with helps him up and you’re thankful it’s not a bar fight.
You sigh relaxed.
That’s when you notice Javier shifted to draw you closer to him. In an almost protective hold, he has you now close against his broad chest. His cologne smells divine, makes your mouth water.
Like a bolt of electricity striking you, you’re galvanized and scramble immediately out of his hold.
“Wait, bandita, what’s wrong? You okay?” He’s so concerned and you dare not look at him.
“Just need some air.” You reply moving away from Javi towards the door leading to the small patio outside.
Your best friend swiftly rushes to you.
“Hey, you okay?!”
You rapidly reassure her that you’re fine and just need air. You even joke about not being able to handle your drinks anymore.
“That fucker didn’t try anything, right?” She asks low and deadly.
You shake your head and squeeze her hand. It’s enough for her to let you leave. Your body operates on autopilot until you stumble into the night air.
It feels like you’re resurfacing. You move to lean against the railing and simply gather yourself.
You feel possessed again needing to kiss him.
And it’s not just that. You want all of him all the time now and it’s infesting you. You’re barely keeping your head above water or maybe you’re this far gone under the waves.
For a moment you think it might be drizzling again. Until you blink and realize the water against your eyes are tears threatening to spill.
You’re so afraid of how badly you want Javier, and how badly it might shatter right before your eyes.
Someone says your name cautiously.
Embarrassed, you turn towards the door.
Javi stands a few steps away from you. His handsome face crumbles instantly seeing you. Quickly he rushes to your side, as if on instinct wanting to help, until he stops.
“Bandita, are you okay!? Fuck… did I do this?” He stammers out worried.
“Did I overstep?” His voice is wrecked. He’s so apologetic already.
You shake your head trying to pathetically dab away the tears. Unable to look at Javier, your attention stays on the dark stretch of parking lot.
“I promise it’s not you. It’s me.” Maybe it will always just be you.
“Querida…”
Darling…he’s never called you that.
“Whatever it is, please let me help.” His voice pleads unbearably tender and you want to cry even more.
He really is so good, too good.
“I just…I just can’t take it...” you begin with a watery cough.
You finally look at him. The furrowed brows, his worried soaked eyes, concern paints him so young. You’re reminded of the young man you saw walking out of a bank all those years ago and how a piece of him stands before you now.
“I like you so much Javi.” Through the heartache, you finally admit it out loud. “Maybe even more than I wanna admit and I don't know if I can’t keep fighting it.”
His face scrunches up and his eyes rapidly scan over you.
“Fight it?” He mutters out. “Why fight it?”
Now you stare at him a bit confused. You have nothing to lose now. So you hold your heart out to him. You reveal it all…the fears and worries sprouting in your heart like uncomfortably cacti about how he deserves someone just as refined and established as him, that he'll eventually get bored of someone like you.
All your words come out hollow, especially thinking about how he can have anyone he wants.
Javier, suddenly in the middle of your ramble, interrupts, upset, snapping your name fiercely that any other words you want to say vanish.
“You’re the only one in this town who actually understands, who maybe even really fucking sees me.” He growls.
Your heart even jumps hearing how determined and raised his voice got.
“You…” Javi now chokes out and suddenly runs a hand over his face. Then his hands go to his hips. His eyes fall to the floor as if he’s taking a moment to gather himself.
“Fuck… you don’t even know what you do to me, how much you fucking mean to me.” Javier breathes and the words get caught in your ribs.
“Whenever you’re not around I can’t stand it. I just wanna be with you….all the damn time.” He coughs out as if he can’t even believe his words.
Those earth pool eyes of his flicker to you.
Under the watch of the clouded Texas deep night sky, it’s just you and him.
You don't know who moves first. Instead it feels like two magnets finally flinging together so fast the collision knocks you awake.
Because in a blink Javi’s hand holds face while his other yanks at your hips. Then he kisses you.
It’s all encompassing.
Immediately your hands scramble to claw at him, begging to get him as close as possible.
His mustache scrapes beautifully against your lips. You taste the beer lingering on his tongue and he’s divine. The wall of the bar suddenly hits your back.
Now you’re flush against him, fully pinned under all of Javier, and you moan. His tongue with hungered finesse licks into your mouth. One hand stays firmly holding your face while his other runs across your body trying to map you out.
His hips rut against yours and you go dizzy with aching raw need.
“Mi pretty bebita, so good to me.” He whispers out thick and heavy. You whine wanting him more, wanting him inside you every way possible. Everything feels molten.
Javi playfully bites your bottom lip and your knees almost buckle. Your mind simply chants for him.
A clash of teeth, a burning heat devours you while you chase every taste of Javier that he gives. It’s an unleashing of something raw and aching, as if finally you can breathe against him while something inside you whispers yes, yes you and I are here and you don’t want to ever leave.
A sudden droplet plops onto your head. You ignore it especially when your tongue swipes against Javi’s and he groans out the most heavenly noise.
A few more large obvious water drops come.
You and Javi freeze, halting mid make out like a paused VHS tape.
Then the rain arrives.
“Shit!” Javi coughs out immediately pulling away. He quickly shrugs off his blazer and drapes it over you, a makeshift umbrella.
Filled by the most buoyant bliss, you laugh.
Javier snorts, shaking his head but he must sense it too, all of it amongst the rain.
And it’s beautiful.
-
“I’m surprised you don’t wear this as much.” Javier comments as he picks up your Stetson cowboy hat.
He’s shirtless, only wearing his jeans. You’re treated to his bare broad shoulders and wonderfully sweet ass in his jeans. It’s an utterly devastating combo.
Sitting on your bed waiting to settle in for the night with him, you shrug.
You didn’t expect him to be so curious and constantly snooping around anytime he’s in your bedroom. Then again, you still can’t believe he’s even in your bedroom.
Sneaking away that the first weekend after the bar didn’t last long though.
Your grandma caught him a few Sunday mornings later trying to sneak out and she ran to you screaming excitedly when she could start planning the wedding. You still haven’t recovered from that.
Even with the blessings from both sides, including Chucho and your gramps, you still wanted to just enjoy being with Javi in these intimate carved out spaces.
His presence already is crystallizing here. His wallet and packs of nicotine gum clutter the night stand. His extra pair of sunglasses sit beside yours on the dresser. His faded worn Texas A&M University t-shirt is tossed by the bed and his boots are by the door. You treasure it all.
Javi, now standing in front of you, places the cowboy hat on top of your head.
The familiar presence of wearing it is like greeting an old friend. You bashfully grin at your handsome rancher. Javier’s eyes gloss over you, taking in the sight. His hand moves to tenderly hold your face.
“You look good, like a true damn cowgirl.” He mutters and your heart flutters against its cage.
“Know you can ride like one now too,” his voice dips with a magnetic undertone as his words hold the heavily sexual double meaning.
You playfully smack his shoulder and he smirks.
“I’m still surprised you don’t call me cowgirl instead of bandita.” You note gently.
“Do you mind that I call you that?” One of his eyebrows lifts up curiously.
No, you didn’t mind at all. You were just curious and you even tell him that.
Javi snorts and his thumb now strokes your cheek.
“The way Pop used to talk about you and how you’d race made you sound like some wild bandit trying to outrun outlaws or something.”
You snort now and your fondness for Chucho Peña triples.
“And then,” Javier continues. “When I met you, I knew I was fucked.”
Now your face scrunches up confused and you ask why. A small charming grin tugs his lips.
“Cause the minute I saw you glaring at me in the barn you stole every fucking inch of me.”
Javi’s thumb now moves to run over your lip and desire bubbles in you. You kiss his thumb, delicate and reverent.
“My pretty little bandit.” His voice is low, a fond rumble in his chest that you want to drown in as much as you can.
You think of all the awards you’ve won, the tournaments you’ve faced. Yet they all seem to fall so short to those words, to this man you so endlessly adore.
In your cowboy hat, you yank Javi close and kiss him. Quickly you and him both tumble into your bed sheets, melting against each other in pure bliss.
In the afterglow, you snatch up the cowboy hat again and now place it on Javi’s head. Your gruff rancher's face twists into a grumpy frown and you grin giddy.
“You look good, a classic Texas man.” You compliment him, almost mirroring the words he told you.
His face scrunches up more.
“Always thought I looked stupid wearing these.” He huffs taking off the Stetson.
“Everybody looks good in a cowboy hat.” You reply truthfully and place the hat back on him.
“Especially you.” You add letting your hand slide across his bare chest. The sight of him in the cowboy hat, your cowboy hat, flickers to life the simmering heat from earlier. He’s already so beautiful and now a cowboy hat on, shirtless, with the dimming post sex glow radiating from him, he’s personified sin.
“Cowboy hat doing it for ya, huh?” Javi’s little cocky smirk has you glaring playfully at him.
“Shut up.” You huff but then swiftly kiss him. Soon enough you become one again with the man taking root in your heart.
Early the next morning, when he thinks you’re asleep, Javier’s fingertips trace over your face with butterfly wing delicateness.
“So fuckin’ crazy about you, baby.” He whispers to your unknowing sleeping form. You feel your heart blossom, a morning bloom wanting to keep him tangled in your soul for as long as he’ll stay.
You think again of two lonely birds on the wire, maybe not so lonely anymore.
With a soft kiss goodbye against your forehead Javi heads out and you soak molten in his words.
You end up not seeing him for a few days. Over the phone he explains, annoyed, of having to run around trying to find a specific fence wire and how it’s kept him away.
Even with how much you miss him, it does allow you space.
Earlier this month, you decided on a new training schedule. Each week would alternate between practice at the Peña’s ranch and yours.
Currently practice is at your family’s ranch.
“Next time you talk to that boyfriend of yours, tell him to get tacos from that place he got us lunch from last time.” Your sister yells as she finishes up a few drills around the ring.
You roll your eyes. “He isn’t a food delivery service.”
She simply shrugs.
The day is winding down. Early evening approaches and the Texas sun starts to bathe everything in a golden glaze straight out of a George Strait song.
“You know…I’m happy for you.” As you and her start putting everything away for the day, your sister casually drops that line.
“About what?” You smirk.
“You and Javi.” She clarifies. Her face is messy with sweat but she beams bright. “You deserve someone like him.”
Your sister, always so kind, maybe too kind for a world this harsh sometimes.
“What? Someone who always manages to steal the last biscuit or flirts with grandma more and more everyday?” You tease and your little sister snickers.
“Well yeah. But what I mean is…you deserve someone who sees how great you are.”
Her words crash into you with a tidal wave of emotions. Her attention rests with her horse, getting in a few final brushes before she turns in for the day.
“I know you… think you’re some sort of failure or that you’re not good. But you are. You’re actually the fucking best.” She says so simply. “And I’m happy Javi sees it too.”
Tears clog your eyes and dry out your throat.
“You sound like a bad hallmark card.” You laugh watery but the gratitude flows out.
Your sister glares then throws the grooming brush at you. You laugh harder when she misses and once she’s out of the stable you playfully shove her.
“You heading back?” She notices your slow pace that hangs back.
You reassure her you’ll be home in a minute and just need a few minutes to yourself. With an understanding nod she walks back to the house.
Now alone you head to the very last stable and head to your ace. You miss your old companion and seeing this sweet creature nudge his muzzle against your hand conjures a sad nostalgic tug in your heart.
Grabbing the saddle, and untangling the reign, you head out to the ring.
You’ve been talking about your old rodeo days with Javi a lot recently. You ask him about Columbia as well. In the sacred soft space of pillow talk. you and him gently unravel more memories, more secrets to each other. It’s made you nostalgic, even a bit wistful.
Plus, you haven’t done this in a while. You frequently rode at a leisurely place along the trails by the river from time to time. But getting into the ring is still so sacred.
With your horse all set, you hoist yourself up and onto the saddle.
Just a few laps is all you do. You focus on the sound of the dirt under the hooves, the light breeze on your face, the feel of riding again.
Then, after gaining more confidence, you speed up.
It’s not even close to the speeds you used to hit, but it’s quick. You even make a lap around the ring going this speed.
One rotation, one good lap and you’re soaring.
It’s nothing. It’s not even an attempt to get back into the rhythm of racing. But it’s a ride and home in its own way.
You slow down, let the horse trot out of his groove to calm down. The entire time, your chest feels so light.
Your eyes glance out and then your heart drops.
Javi, with his flat out jaw dropped, stares at you as if you’ve spouted wings. You didn’t even hear him approach.
He breathes out your name.
Scrambling, a bit embarrassed, you quickly dismount, and after guiding the horse to the side you rush towards him.
You’re about to apologize for not noticing him when Javier ends up speaking first.
“You’re incredible.” He exhales in awe and it knocks the wind from you.
He must see whatever emotion colors your face because he repeats himself again firmer.
“You’re amazing, bandita.”
You weakly laugh thanking him.
“Does that mean-”
“Nah,” you gently cut him off and explain how you just enjoy a ride like that from time to time.
“It’s like just taking a casual drive type thing.” You shrug.
Suddenly Javi’s hand moves to rest on your arm leaning against the fence. He rubs so soft and comfortingly.
“Thank you,” he says gently. “For letting me know you.”
You want him to know every inch of you. The same way you want to know Javier in every way that you can. You want to carve out a home in your heart for him.
The hand that was on your arm moves to your cheek tilting your face towards his. He wears his classic aviator sunglasses you’ve grown fond of stealing from him.
He’s so gorgeous. It’s like the Texas sun was made to bask Javi in its glow. He’s a modern Helios, beautifully crafted with his deep earthy eyes and golden face.
“Proud of you, mi bandita.” He mutters with words soaked in adoration.
You swallow hard and let the truth sink into you.
“Thank you Javi… I’m proud of you too.” You earnestly tell him.
He snorts bashfully and you think you might be doomed to think about this man forever now, but it’s alright.
There’s something foreign in your chest growing so bright you feel as if you’ve swallowed a sun and maybe you have. Because Javier is bright, so unexpectedly warm.
A man crafted right out of the Texas golden magic hour.
And as Javi leans forward to kiss you so tenderly, you step forward into the sun, into his kaleidoscopic glow and it’s beautiful.
#hi hello howdy I’m so sorry this got so long but know Javi and I are baking you cowboy cookies as we speak#if you read thank you so much and know it really means the world to me#let’s rodeo fic series#rancher!javier Peña#Javier Peña x reader#javier pena x reader#javier peña x f!reader#javier pena fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#Javi P 🤎
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new task: valentine’s day.
PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!
SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.
WC: 10.6k (OH MY FUCKING GOD)
CW: it’s like fluffy comfort because I say so, kim seungmin supremacy (YES), use of spanglish (just on the text messages bc yes, it’s not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format for plot convenience (and a whole bunch of emojis and colors), the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), use of cliché valentine and enemies2lovers tropes (BECAUSE THEY ARE FUN AND THEY WORK), academic rivals (we love to see it), bad student reader x good student seungmin (like bad/mean girl x good boy ish), mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying?, mentions of being followed, use of (pet)names because I don’t like using ‘y/n’: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, (yes i’m just petty like that, sue me), hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is almost a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)
SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe<3
A/N: alone on valentine’s day? same for me, pookie! but dontchu worry, mister kim seungmin is here to help us out<3 (and if not, we can always help each other😚🫶)
[☆★🌷★☆]
{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}
At first, you didn’t really know him.
To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.
…Kim Seungmin.
Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.
But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.
And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.
> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’
> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.
> you: guys help, am I missing people?
> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵💫😵💫
< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?
< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀
< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl
< abril🌻: you even know them lara
< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA
< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)
> you: oh right, Lix told me!
> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃♀️
Well.
Rookie mistake.
> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’
> you: omg i even added everyone
< lucas🤺: omg omg
< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy
You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.
Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.
> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg
< lucas🤺: que es omg
< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?
< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole
< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌
< isabel🌸: she knows better lol
< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister
< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?
< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.
You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.
But then, he replied.
< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation
…
Your smile faded.
You read that once more. Then again. And another time.
You chuckled dryly.
What was this guy on about?
> you: ah? wdym?
You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.
Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.
< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12
< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock
< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you
< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?
< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed
< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌
< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓
> you: yeah guys lol
< minho🐈: no u started this
< minho🐈: u shush
You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.
> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓
< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once
< kim seungmin™️: you should shush
< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet
You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.
Who did this guys think he was?
With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.
You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.
“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.
Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}
To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.
Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.
You were mad. As fuck.
“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.
“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.
You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.
And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.
“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”
Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.
Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.
“Miss, I—”
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.
Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.
Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.
It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.
You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.
< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn
< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊
You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.
You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?
The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.
“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.
“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.
Why did it always have to be him?
He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.
“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”
You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.
“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.
But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.
“Did you fix it?”
You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.
“Huh?”
He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”
You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.
In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.
“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.
We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.
As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.
< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?
Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.
“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.
Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?
Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.
Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.
“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.
“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”
But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.
“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”
Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.
“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.
Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.
Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.
But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.
Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.
You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.
But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”
Oh, son of a bitch.
“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.
Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”
Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.
Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.
You wouldn’t see the end of it.
And he knew it.
Bitch.
So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.
Lucas chuckled next to you.
“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”
…WHAT?!
“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”
He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”
Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.
“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”
His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.
But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.
“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.
That mas was slightly terryifing.
You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.
“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”
“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.
Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.
“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”
Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.
“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”
Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.
“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.
“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”
You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.
“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.
[☆★🌷★☆]
Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.
“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.
“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.
“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”
You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.
“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.
You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”
Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.
“Exactly. We don’t like him.”
“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.
“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”
He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”
You grinned cheekily.
“Sure. Can’t wait.”
[☆★🌷★☆]
You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.
Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.
Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.
“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.
And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.
“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.
You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?
“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.
He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.
See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.
“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.
His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.
Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.
He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.
“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”
His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.
You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.
It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.
You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.
You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.
But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.
…
what were you doing?
…
WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!
You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.
He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.
In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.
This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.
This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.
But it felt real.
And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.
He panted, struggling to catch his breath.
“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.
He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.
He found himself enjoying this one even more.
“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”
You blinked as he stood up and walked away.
What…
What had just happened?
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 2: UNDER THE STREETLIGHT}
After avoiding Seungmin like the plague all Thursday, only looking at his back when you zoned off in class, Friday arrived earlier than expected.
You hadn’t been able to concentrate at all, the thought of his sweet taste lingering in your mouth, almost letting you feel the ghost of his lips pressed against yours.
“Hello? Earth to… oh, you’re awake, Jesus.” Abril looked at you with a smile, but she was unable to hide her worried look.
“Of course I am,” you mumbled, shaking your head sideways. “What’s going on?”
“You haven’t even touched your delicious and totally-not-overcooked pasta.” Lara mentioned the cafeteria lunch as she poked it whith her fork, full of humour. “It leads to believe that you’re dealing with something far more interesting that the technical drawing homework, that’s for sure.”
You bit your lip, hesitating.
“Is it because Henry Li has been ignoring you?” Noa mentioned softly.
You blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”
He’d been ignoring you? Now that she had mentioned, maybe that could’ve happened. Maybe you would’ve realized if you hadn’t been so focused on Seungmin and whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes…
…or maybe you should look for an easier name for it.
“Uh, no, he invited me to this new place today, actually,” you brushed your hair with your hand mindlessly. “But I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” You smiled at the girls, and joined in at their conversation.
After lunch, you separated from Lara and Noa, who had literature, and Abril, who had been hanging out with a guy called Jeongin from her photography club recently, and so you headed to the study room.
It was a quiet place, quieter that what you had initially expected for a high school study room. Matter of fact, you thought it was a pity that the school closed it after class, considering that in that case you wouldn’t have to walk to the public library.
You opened the door silently, finding that there were barely any students, only three or four people studying silently. You were heading towards a lonely corner so you could listen to music in a high volume without having to pay attention if it could be heard through your headphones. Or maybe, considering that it hadn’t been a lie and that you had slept like four hours maximum, you could probably rest there until the bell rang.
You snickered when you looked to your right, finding someone struggling with the technical drawing homework that had been assigned that morning, the one that Lara and Noa had been talking about.
You gently tapped the guy’s shoulder, but spoke before he even turned.
“You’re missing this incline here,” you whispered on his ear, your arms coming above his shoulders, placing your hands above his, placing the square and bevel on the right angle. “It should be seen, but with dotted lines, get it? That way the side-view makes sense.” You added with a soft giggle.
“Oh, right. T-thank you…” he mumbled, not facing you.
You brushed it off as weird, but your sleepy self wasn’t bothered enough to notice or pry, and instead smiled, ruffled his hair and settled in your cozy little corner, placing your scarf in between your arms and rested your head on it, merely “resting your eyes”, but only if a teacher happened to come and check on the students.
Seungmin stared at your sleeping figure, eyes almost wide. He felt like his heart was going to explode underneath the layers of flesh. His hands tingled, his usually warm and sweaty palms missing the comfortable coldness of yours, so soothing and relaxing.
Either you had completely gone crazy, or he had fallen asleep trying to complete the stupid assignment. He knew you were good at technical drawing, it was one of the subjects were he wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when several students started asking you for help on their papers and assignments, considering that you were one of the few who was able to receive praise from the teacher, a middle-aged man with no kind of vocation with kids or teaching, by any means.
But it had never happened when he was the one in need of help, had you ever considered the idea of helping him.
He watched you, puzzled, as he had never done before, and maybe it would be the first time of many because Seungmin found himself liking what he was seeing, dare I say mesmerized by the image before him.
By you.
Your sleepy figure was as calm as he had ever seen from you, sleeping with little to no care in the world. Your hair remained stuck in a ponytail, which allowed Seungmin to notice that it left the skin of your neck visible, and despite the voice on his head saying that it was a behaviour quite like a man from the Modern Ages, just being so fixated at that small bit of skin, he couldn’t help but feel bashfully amazed.
Suddenly, he noticed you licked your lips, your eyes still closed and your small smile never faltering, but that made something start to flutter in his stomach, as if a whole lot of butterflies had been awaken at the sight of you, tranquil, and sweet, and cute, and he forced himself to stop looking at you abruptly, wondering why he had done that in the first place.
Licking your lips only made Seungmin aware of how dry his were, and action plus the thought of your lips immediately brought back what had happened on Wednesday.
Crazy. He’d gone completely crazy.
He felt his hand slowly approach his lips and he grazed them with his fingers, almost able to taste your chapstick back on his lips. Because he had been able. All Wednesday night. And a small part of him wanted more of it.
He blushed, scratching his eyes. He hadn’t slept shit, his mind betraying him every time he attempted to close his eyes instantly going back to the memory of how you stared at him after your kiss, dark pupils, and red lips, and so ridiculously gorgeous that it made Seungmin wonder why whenever he saw you he resorted to his first line in code: being mean.
He never used that side with anyone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, because small, teasing and slightly unhinged Kim Seungmin had tried to be himself in middle school, and… well.
Let’s just say that it didn’t work like expected.
But everyone loved dorky, funny and sweet Seungmin. Even with the difference with grades, that had definetely not been appreciated in his early years, nowadays people would see that as a part of him, and he recieved praise for it, not only from teachers, but also nice classmates, who sometimes went to seek help from him.
He just needed to pretend for a bit. Smile here and there, and put on a sheepish act of bashfulness that despite it not being natural, it wasn’t totally bad. It wasn’t like middle school.
But then you came in the picture.
Something about you made Seungmin want to tease you. To see you finally look at him after battling in your head if you even should, and then, sometimes when you were mad enough, you’d glare at him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Your cheeks flushed in anger that creeped up your body, how you looked at him through your lashes or how you’d tease him back. The first time you had done that, his brain’s chemistry had changed, he was sure of that.
He didn’t care about the mean remarks, and that now seemed almost obvious, considering what had happened almost two days ago in the school bus.
But it got impossible to miss when Seungmin noticed your sleepy self shivering in your slumber. With a mental groan, careful of not making any kind of loud noise in the study room, he slowly got closer to your corner, and tried to close the windows near it. And failed, because the stupid windows were old and rusty, only able to move them a bit.
He bit his lip, arguing in his head. Would that be enough? No, it probably wasn’t, right? Yeah, it couldn’t be. Considering that you always wore thin clothing, always borrowing your mates’ jackets…
…it couldn’t possibly hurt to do a bit more, right?
Seungmin approached you further, and shook a hand close to your face, but you were dead, as still as a fallen tree, despite the sunlight that enetered throught the windows glowing on your face, the Sun in winter, that brought little to no warmth, made you shine in his eyes.
He’d see you in the public library a couple of hours later. It didn’t mean anything. He could probably tease you for sleeping in school later. Yeah. And then he’d ask for his jacket back.
Seungmin was lost in his thoughts as he carefully settled his jacket over your shoulders, and he froze when you sighed deeply, surrounded by a familiar warmth and a cozy scent that you didn’t know you had missed or needed until then, but you didn’t wake up.
He blinked when he noticed your phone in your hand, the screen suddenly turning on. He giggled at your wallpaper, which had a silly joke on it and a funny doodle of a banana.
But then his eyes trailed down to the notification that had made the phone turn on.
[3 new messages from: henry li🫧]
> sorry i didn’t get to see u yesterday, had to sort smth out!
> guys.its.totally.a.real.address.wdym.lol
> it’s the address for later, shortcake 😉❤️
…huh?
Seungmin blinked once. Twice. Nah, his glasses had to be deceiving him. Then, another notification popped up.
> can’t wait to see you ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
He winced silently.
Ugh. What a cringy choice of emojis.
Did you really like this guy?
He frowned, going back to his place in the study room.
Ugh.
He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care? That wasn’t his business. Never was, never would be. Not like he was interested. Pffft, no. Not at all. Yeah, nah. That kiss had been a one time thing. Totally. 100%. He wasn’t thinking about it again. Nope. Nor did he want to kiss you again. Not in a chance.
Just… ugh.
It was just that… no. Scratch that. No further comments.
He sighed as he went back to his work, feeling a sudden inspiration hit him as he took out a blank paper for the English class valentine’s assignment, but not before he looked at you again, then shook his head, turning the music back on in his headphones. He started writing, drafting, and throwing papers away, getting slightly desperate at his perfectionism.
He sighed. His eyes trailed off towards you.
Slowly, words started to flow in his head. Pretty sentences, things that he had kept hidden in the back of his mind. Maybe it could be good to let it all out. It couldn’t hurt. Yeah.
So he stared writing. Vomiting word after word. And he finished earlier than expected, with two papers.
One was perfect for the english assignment. It was boring and dull enough to be handed in for a school work, but good enough for his perfectionism.
And the other… was something different.
Something that had only happened because you were there, in front of him.
He stood up, letter on his hand. He leaned against the table you were sleeping in, and settled the jacket further on your shoulders. He sighed, grabbing a pen from his pencil case, folding the letter and signed it.
Maybe it was a bad idea, he thought as he picked up his stuff from the table and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
He looked at your figure once more before heading out.
It had been to check if you were still asleep, of course.
Just to check.
Yeah.
[☆★🌷★☆]
Your phone vibrated in your hand again.
And again.
And again.
With a groan, you silently accepted that there was no way you could fool an inanimate object into believing that you were still asleep.
But when you yawned and looked around and didn’t find the posters in your room, but rather a whole bunch of tables and chairs, your eyes widened.
It hadn’t been your alarm but a phone call that had awoken you.
“Y-yeah?” You mumbled, picking up the call and quickly taking your backpack and scarf and rushing out of the study room, taking a quick scan and making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind.
“I’m heading to the club now, shortcake.” A low voice greeted. “Are you getting ready?”
Who…?
“H-henry?” You frowned slightly.
You heard him snicker through the other side. “Yeah?”
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“N-nothing! Nothing, I, uh, I was just doing my make up. Y-you know.”
What? You frowned, even more this time. No, that didn’t make any sense. You always blabbered about how you never did your make up for clubbing because the one you owned was cheap and never stayed on anyways.
“Sure, yeah.”
It didn’t seem like he had noticed.
“You can head there before me. I’ll go there eventually, yeah?”
You heard him snicker on the other side of the phone call. “Ok, baby.” He cleared his throat, stuttering a bit. “Y-yeah, I mean, I’ll uh… get there in a bit. Don’t rush.”
Only then you felt that the wind from outside wasn’t freezing your bones like usual. You squinted at the jacket you were wearing.
“Henry, did you…?” But he hung up.
It probably was him. Yeah. That’s why he had called you. To make sure you’d wake up.
Besides, there were little to no people who’d do such a kind gesture towards you, and even if the jacket was pretty much your style and it smelled like heaven, it didn’t feel like something any of the girls would keep around.
So, why didn’t it made you feel giddy that Henry had given you his jacket?
You kept on running through the hallways and catched the bus that was usually there for students who had extracurricular classes, unlucky people who had to stay in school late in Fridays. You never had, using Fridays to be a bit lazy or to start homework sooner just to hand it in earlier than Seungmin.
Oh.
Friday.
Seungmin.
The library.
You bit your nails, staring through the window.
Would he wait there for long?
What was he going to do once he figured you weren’t going to show up?
Were you… feeling guilty?
No… that… that couldn’t be, you chuckled dryly. Mean decisions against Kim Seungmin didn’t spend too much time on the judgmental side of your brain. You just… teased him back. And he’d take it. And double it. And so on.
So why did this feel too mean?
Could it be because of whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes?
Could the fact that it had been the best thing that had happened in a long while?
Well, fine.
Not just ‘thing’.
A kiss.
And for fuck’s sake, what kiss.
You groaned and grunted, sprinting home as soon as the bus stopped.
Why did it always have to be him?
You entered your room and burst open your closet. The jacket was cool, you thought. And if you were going to see Henry, you could just wear it and hand it back to him in the club.
It was vintage, but its warmth engulfed you as if it had been handmade. Its funky designs and patterns looked cute, and its grey color contrasted well with it. You chose the first dress you saw, a tight black dress with no sleeves that you would’ve discarded as too short if you had more time, but it wasn’t exactly something you could’ve bragged about.
Jacket, dress, high socks, boots, wallet, phone, keys, headphones… yeah. You nodded, checking all of the boxes in your mental list, and started hurriedly walking to the address he had sent.
You hoped you weren’t going to be too late.
[☆★🌷★☆]
“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”
“The number you are trying to call is turned off or out of coverage. Please, leave your message after the—”
You hang up, tired of hearing that mechanic voice over and over again.
You looked around you, and there was nothing that looked like a club. You had tried to enter the building that the address lead to, but it hadn’t got well.
A strange figure opened a small window and gave you a look, almost disgusted. It took you a second to understand that they were wearing a mask, with dark lace and other colours. But just when you were about to speak, the window slammed close.
You blinked, puzzled. Where the fuck was Henry sending you? What kind of club was this?
You had started to roam around the building, trying to call him —and failing misserably, because the damn guy couldn’t pick up the fucking phone for the life of him—, but now you were starting to run out of ideas.
It was past 12pm, your legs shivered with every slight wind that swooshed your way, and there was no one that was going to pick up the phone. Not Henry, that ridiculous imbecile, not Lucas, who always bragged about having his phone in night mode, so nothing would get to him until morning, and not the girls, because Noa had her phone turned off, Atenea was most likely sleeping, Abril and Lara hadn’t picked up either, and your list of close friends who could possibly pick up was… that.
And no one was picking up the fucking phone.
You were about to keep on ranting about how disgustingly bad this was turning out to be, but you heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, but didn’t find the source. With a frown, you walked to the building again
Placing your hand on one of the windows, who were dark and almost impossible to see through, you could notice that in the dim light from what could be seen outside, Henry was well entertained with a certain kind of company, so much that he couldn’t even pick up your phone.
You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the tinted glass. Of course. Yeah. That made total sense. It was Henry, after all. He had always been known to be kind of an asshole anyways. It couldn’t possibly come out as a surprise the fact that he actually was.
You shook your head and mentally mocked him and the blond girl he was kissing.
Henry Li could go to Hell.
Guess there was nothing left to do now. You had dumped Seungmin, and Henry had dumped you. It was an ass move over an ass move. Maybe you kinda deserved it.
But then your thoughts ended in a halt, because you swore you could feel a shadow starting to follow you from a distance.
They were behind you, but not too close, and due to their hoodie it was imposible to distinguish their face.
So you started walking. Turning left. Right. Left again. Right. Just kept on walking. Don’t look behind you. They’d probably just leave. This had to be your imagination, 100%.
But when you took a peak, the silhouette was not only still behind you, slowly walking towards you, but a slight bit closer this time.
You swallowed dry, gulped, even. Your heart tightened in your chest. What kind of joke was this? Your eyes were tearing up. You were tired, and this was mental. Adrenaline rumped through your body, and even if you were already lost, you kept on walking.
You took your phone from your pocket. Think, think, think. Who could you call? Who could pick up at one am? You scrolled down your list of contacts, until for a reason you don’t fully get, your eyes stopped at a certain name.
—> seungmeannie
It couldn’t possibly hurt to try… right?
You sniffed almost silently, and pressed call.
One beep.
Two beeps.
Three beeps.
You started crying a bit louder, unable to hold it back.
“Eh, hi…?”
“S-seungmin!” You sobbed, smiling. It was the first time in your life you had been that happy just from being able to hear his voice, raspy and low.
“W-what?” He stopped talking, and you guessed that it was because he hadn’t figured out who was calling him so late at night. “Do you know what time it is, you fun-sized dingus?” He groaned sleepily at the phone.
You bit your lip and sniffed.
“Wait. Are you… crying?” His tone had changed.
“I-i’m sorry about t-this eve-ening.” You sobbed, failing to hold back the tears, hugging the jacket that was still on your shoulders.
“Are you drunk, little one?” You never thought your shoulders could relax as fast as they had when his soft tone of voice called you that stupid nickname.
“N-no, I… I went to this stupid club, with-“
“With Henry, yeah.” The way he said his name, as if he wanted to put that stupid bitch in a box and send him to the end of the world took you by surprise.
“B-but um, he’s not picking up my phone and I…” you gulped. Taking a peek behind you, you shivered. “I think someone’s following me.”
“Wait, what?” Seungmin had never stood up from bed as fast as he had done that night. “Where are you?” He asked to the phone as he randomly picked a sweater and his glasses, biting his lip as he struggled to put on his shoes.
“I… I don’t know.” You sobbed. “I started walking away so he’d go, but it didn’t work.” You mumbled, sniffing. You felt so stupid.
“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” It was the first time in the whole afternoon that you felt like that statement could be true. Because Seungmin was going to help you. “Don’t hang up. Tell me what buildings can you see. Try heading away from small alleys. I’ll find you.”
Seungmin rushed out of his appartment, not before scribbling down what was happening in a post it note and left it on his mother’s bedside table.
“T-there are some restaurants, but they’re all closed.” You started, dubious as how was this going to work. “There’s a road to my left.”
“Can you name any of the restaurants, little one?” Seungmin had a hunch, and he huffed, sprinting to the plaza closest to his appartment.
“I just passed by a Mexican, I think.” You sniffed, Seungmin’s soothing voice working like a charm and calming you down slowly. “In front of me, I think this is a Japanese… it’s called Ginza.”
Seungmin chuckled, feeling relief flooding his body. “Y-yeah, ok! I- god, yes, I know where you are. Keep walking straight ahead. There should be a park, right?” He started running, hiding the fact that he’d have to rush and make the usual fifteen minutes it could take him to arrive where you were and make them five.
He needed to see you and make sure you were safe.
“I… shit, yeah! I can see it!” You went back to crying, a smile planted in your features.
“I’m almost there. You’re doing so well, little one.”
You felt your cheeks getting warmer at that. Walking a bit faster, you looked behind you, finding that the silhouette was still there.
But Seungmin was close. Seungmin said everything would be fine.
“S-seungmin?” You mumbled at the phone, wanting to hear his voice, so soothing and warm.
“Under the streetlight, silly.”
You heard the beep that sounded when Seungmin ended the call, but he was there, tangible, a couple of meters away from you.
You chuckled, happy to see him for the first time ever, and crying away the pent up stress and worry, you ran off to him, and clung your arms around his neck tightly, unbothered at the need to stand on the tips of your toes to do so.
Seungmin stuttered, still panting from the marathon he had ran to get there, 100% baffled at this. But it was ok. You were there. You were safe.
“T-they’re still behind me.” You whispered against his chest.
He could feel your nervousness on your tone, how scared you were judging by how strongly your arms closed behind his neck, and hesitated for a second before hugging you back, his arms pulling you closer by your lower back, keeping you grounded and so weirdly safe in his grasp, and it felt so strangely comforting coming from him that your eyes swelled with more tears.
You couldn’t see or feel the person behind you anymore, but Seungmin did, somewhat clearly.
The only thing that his mind made up that moment is that for the person to leave, they’d have to believe you two did know each other.
And Seungmin’s heart beated loudly in his chest when your grasp loosened and you stood back on your feet, allowing him to see how your lip trembled, how you were holding back tears and how you looked at him with a million emotions hidden in the colour of your eyes. He had never seen you cry before.
His hands itched to touch you again, a sudden need to comfort you that overwhelmed him.
So he did.
His hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears, and he pecked your lips softly, smiling at your baffled face. His arms engulfed you in a comforting hug that smelled so much like the jacket you were wearing.
He looked behind you, and the silhouette was nowhere to be found. As if it had never been there before.
“It’s ok.” Seungmin whispered in your ear. “I’m here now. You’re safe. They’re gone, yeah?” His arms rested on your shoulders as his slender hands stroked your hair. “No one’s gonna hurt you now, pretty.”
And you started to cry on his shoulder, because not only then you realized how bad you had needed a hug, and not even the fact that it had been a hug from him that you had secretly yearned for, but because none of your excuses made sense now.
There was no ‘fake’ or ‘real’ Seungmin.
Whatever he was, fake or not, stood in front of you as he hugged you under the streetlight.
And you sighed as he cooed at you softly, because deep down you had known for a while.
It was time you came to terms with it.
[☆★🌷★☆]
{ACT 3: WINDOWS, LETTERS AND POEMS}
Wednesday. 9:56 am. 14th February.
Most of your classmates were still arriving from their next class as you stared at two papers in your hands slightly from afar, pencil in your lips.
You had discarded most of your creations all Monday and Tuesday when you finally ended with a draft you liked for the stupid english homework. It was nothing out of the ordinary.
But the letter in your other hand, however, was something you had never done before.
“What’s that you got there?”
Any kind of bubbly and nervous emption you had vanished at the sound of that low voice.
“Fuck off, Li.” You grunted in a husky tone, frowning at him and grabbing back the letter from his hands.
“Is it a love letter for me?” He chuckled, ignoring your behaviour.
“Why the fuck would I write that, huh?” You laughed, a chuckle full of acid, one that had much more hatred that you had ever said before.
Henry brushed a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but think he looked stupid. You had liked this guy? Ugh.
“Because today is valentine’s day, shortcake.”
You squinted and frowned at him.
“Swishing those dyed and damaged locks like a Loreal advert won’t make anyone fall in love with you.” You snorted, and realized the people in the hallway had fallen into silence, listening to your conversation. “Or maybe it worked with that blond girl in the club?” You pretended to ponder out loud, leaning against the locker behind you, facing him with confidence.
“Wait, what?” He mumbled.
You snickered, taking him by surprise. “Oh, silly. I was never going to date you. I kept hearing that you were an ass and figured that was right, because aside from me, little to no people talked to you. I guess I just felt pityful.” You faked a pout.
He clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.
“You’re lying.” He grunted.
You chuckled. “You wish I was. That blond girl didn’t steal my man. She stole my problem.” You heard some gasps from the people in the corridor, as they had formed some kind of circle around you two.
But then, Henry snorted, and cleared his throat, talking with a much louder voice. “So you’re not going to let everyone know about you and Seungmin?” He smirked. “I feel like that’s a bit unfair. Making it seem like I’m the bad guy and all.”
You tried hard to make it seem like that hadn’t surprised you. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t have time to react when he yanked your letter from your hand.
“Such sweet words, all dedicated to him,” he mocked. “I think these people want to know.”
“Give it back!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes dull with embarassment.
Even if he wasn’t as tall as Seungmin, there was still a decent difference between you and him. And with a sly grin, he raised the paper above your head.
You licked your lips, anger filling your body.
“Give. It. Back.”
But then he started reading.
“I looked at him as if he were the Sun, in that I never looked at him except in frustration.” He read out loud, moving the paper from your reach everytime you tried to reach. “I seeked his warmth, I complained when he was gone, but I never looked, not until I noticed he was leaving, and in the beauty of the sunset, I wondered how I had never seen him before.”
You stared at the floor, a blush spreading through your cheeks, coming from your neck.
“And that’s basically what happened.” You mumbled to Abril and Lucas over at a bench in the school grounds, hours after that whole thing had happened.
“What?!” You flinched at Abril’s loud voice. “I’m going to kill him. I am so going to murder that nasty ass bitch.” She threatened to stand up, but Lucas grabbed her forearm.
“And what about Seungmin?” He questioned softly, a lot more gentle that what you usually would expect.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks.
“I haven’t spoken to him since Friday” You stared at him with a weakness you had never felt before. “It’s like he doesn’t want to talk to me, I…” you sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” You sniffed.
You had to stay in the study room for the afternoon, waiting for Atenea to get out of the club she was in so you could head to the library together like you had promised, but as you studied in silence, someone sat in the chair in front of you, frowning at you.
You took your headphones off and scratched your eyes. “Eh… Hyunjin?”
“Abril told Lara and she told me,” he mentioned in a huff. “And I’ve known Seungmin for many years. He’s not an impulsive guy. He hasn’t treated anyone like how he treats you.”
You blinked, puzzled, but frowned at him. “Are you going to scold me?”
“You better believe I am!” He scoffed. “Would you like me to politely tell you that you’ve behaved like a total idiot around him?”
“What are you—?!”
“You simply never bothered to talk to Seungmin about any of what Lara told me!” He stated with force, and you didn’t think to tell him to shut up, considering that the study room was empty that time.
“Do you really expect me to understand whatever was happening and tell him right away?” You blurted out with anger, a bit shocked at his rough approach. “Had I had the opportunity I would have!
He rolled his eyes, passing a hand over his face in a sign of desperation.
“You had every opportunity! For months!” He left his hand on the table, and started tapping at it with force, trying to make a point. “Admit it. Seungmin has been in your head ever since we both changed from the other class and you two started bickering.” Hyunjin’s eyes stared at you with a fierce glare that almost threatened to pierce holes through your skull.
“That’s bullshit!” You spitted out defensively.
“Oh, spare me!” He brushed it off. “There have been countless clues! Your stupid need to make everything a competition when it comes to him is infuriating. He talks to me about these things, you know?” He swallowed, and you leaned back in surprise, but he kept on going. “How you look at him when you’re angry, or how you mock and tease him back. It’s stupid!” He cursed out loud. “And these last two weeks have only made it so much worse.”
“What do you mean, worse?” You pondered softly, slowly taking in Hyunjin’s dramatic act.
“I mean, you were totally smitten by how he ridiculously kissed you at the back of the bus last week, considering that you kissed him back.” He stated clearly. “And he wouldn’t shut up about it and how you were ignoring him after, which, great fucking work, by the way, the dude wouldn’t shut up about you.” Hyunjin blinked slowly, trying to recall and voice what he was thinking. “And then he lends you his jacket when a mystery debutant shows up.”
“A—a what?”
“Motherfucker, eh, that Henry asshole.” Hyunjin rubbed his eyes. “I had to endure him talking shit about him for an hour because he saw him texting you some weird shit with cringe emojis.” The exasperation on his tone rendered you almost speechless. “And even then he struggled to admit how fucking jealous he was about that guy. He had your attention. He had your smile. You looked at Henry, not at Seungmin, and ah, for fuck’s sake.” Hyunjin covered his face with his hands. “He felt so ridiculously powerless that he talked to me about it. He’s never done that before!”
You were only able to blink, struggling to grasp everything he was saying.
“And then, with no word of warning, you called him, at, what, like, one in the morning?” Hyunjin said in a huff, the thought of that bringing back his anger, making him stare at you with a frown again. “He, jesus, he talked for AGES about how you hugged him, and the fact that you were wearing his jacket, like— like you’re doing now, what the fuck.” He stopped mid-scolding, staring at you with confusion.
“It’s… it’s his?”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded. “What, you didn’t know? You helped him with tecnical drawing, he gave you his jacket, bla bla bla. That whole thing?”
You blushed, shaking your head sideways. You had done what?
“Nevermind. You can talk to him about that later.”
It was your turn to scoff now. “Judging by the fact that he sent you, I don’t think he would like to see me anytime soon.”
Hyunjin chuckled dryly.
“Don’t you even dare keep ignoring him. This stupid game has lasted for too long. Besides, he doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in dance practice, but whatever. You needed to know, because he’s a mess.” Hyunjin stated, passing a hand through his hair. “He can’t sleep well, he can’t concentrate, he can’t do anything.”
It looked like the scolding was over, but there was a remaining anger that came back to him as a memory struck.
“And, moreover, you callously ignored the letter Seungmin wrote you, even though he told you he loved you!”
You were looking at your notebook on the table, halfly staring at your nails and fidgeting with them, but your head almost snapped when you stared at him.
“What letter?” You muttered, your eyes locked on his. He frowned, his eyes slightly widening.
Your heart started beating faster, almost so loud you could hear it in your head.
“Hyunjin, what letter?!”
[☆★🌷★☆]
Seungmin felt his lungs on fire.
Run, run, run.
His feet were hurting, because his old ass shoes were busted enough that their insides were almost destroyed from everyday use.
But he needed to find you.
Maybe it was because it was Valentine’s day, despite the obvious influence that a certain friend of yours had done.
“Wait, you— you missed school this morning?” Lucas had muttered with a puzzled look, eyes wide.
“I had to go to the dentist to take my braces off. Yeah.” Seungmin stated again. “So whatever you meant by ‘being an ignoring bitch this morning’, I know nothing about it.”
And then someone next to them had chimed in. “You’re talking about Henry and what happened this morning with—“
“Yeah. Why?” Seungmin had interrupted, frowning slightly.
“There’s a video of it.”
Run, run, run.
The look in your eyes when you spoke with Henry. Your smug smile when you caught him by surprise.
Your poem.
His eyes had widened when Henry started reading it in the video.
Was it…?
Could it…?
Could it really be for him?
He wanted needed to find out.
He needed to find you.
“Watch where you’re going!” A man grunted at him, and Seungmin quickly apologized, running off.
Run, run, run.
He knew where you lived just because of Friday, when you had asked him if he could head towards your house with you, still a bit scared from what had happened. He accepted in a heartbeat, reassuring you that it was fine with a million smiles.
His hand had never left yours. Your touch, colder than his, had something so adicting to it that he didn’t want to let go.
Time seemed to pass slowlier when he recognized your neighbourhood. He was about to ring on your floor, but then, your silhouette got out of the elevators, and you both blinked at each other, staring through the glass door.
You opened it slowly, approaching him.
The look in your eyes was different than what Seungmin was used to.
It wasn’t similar to how you had looked at him ever since the school year started, with a shimmer of anger that turned your cheeks pink. Or how you had looked at him that afternoon in the back of the school bus, pupils dark and lips red and slightly swollen from kissing. Or how your eyes glowed in hope and comfort that Friday night.
It was different. He wanted to savour it. He wanted to see every detail of it.
He walked towards you and cradled your face in his hands.
“Wait.” He muttered in a whisper, taking off his glasses in a movement that to you felt almost enticing.
“What is it?” You whispered back.
He blinked at you as he cleaned his glasses with the hem of his shirt.
“You’re fucking blurry.” He snickered softly, with a sheepish smile that tinted his cheeks pink.
You giggled.
He settled his glasses back in place, and smiled when your image made sense before him.
“Better.” He muttered.
“Seungmin, I—“
But you stopped speaking when his lips crashed against yours.
There it was. He tasted sweet like how hot chocolate tastes in a rainy day. You smiled at your discovery, wanting to taste it for hours.
He wanted to kiss you for days to come, even if there was a million things left for both of you to say.
“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I wasn’t in school this morning.” Kiss. “But I saw a video of it.” Kiss. “And I needed to—“
You giggled, taking his glasses and settling them on the top of his head.
“We can do the talking later.” You smiled, your cheeks red as your hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Are you sure?” He gulped, blushing too as he mumbled.
“Yeah.” You smiled even more. “I’d rather do the kissing now.”
You'd never know what happened with his letter. But considering where that had lead you, maybe it wasn't totally bad that the wind had carried it out the window.
[☆★🌷★☆]
~Kats, who, believe it or not, took the text argument in the beginning from an old school groupchat (yes i was the target akbdksbdks idk why lol, but no, i did not have an enemies2lovers :( lmao)
HAPPY FUCKING VALENTINES DAY!
TAGGING! (oh wow) @that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick @deadcrow-donteat @obyyyy @euphoric-univers @aslou @19marka @daisyjihannie @im-loco66 @coolbabydumplings @amarecerasus @sharonxdevi @han-to-my-minho @abbiespooks @moon0fthenight @koala-wonderland @hecrtful @hheesungsung @vampcharxter @kpopandblunts @daisy-dont-play @skz-lover21 @skyl1nninie @lunathewonyoungstan @5starlee @pchyyhoe @4ln-stay8 @michelle4eve (bolded and/or purple means it won’t let me tag you, pookies! please check your blog’s privacy settings <3)
#stray kids x reader#kim seungmin x reader#happy valentine's day#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#soft hours#seungmin x reader#seungmin fluff#kim seungmin fluff#stray kids seungmin#i love seungmin#kim seungmin x y/n#kim seungmin x you#kim seungmin fic#kim seungmin headcanons#kim seungmin#stray kids imagine#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids kim seungmin#fluff fluff fluff#valentines day#seungmin#happy valentines#valentines 2024#skz han jisung#skz stray kids#skz seungmin
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I have no skill, nor talent in writing but, man, have I been craving some postwar! Levi content for a while now. Sooo, I'll try and explain my ideas in a not so eloquent way. Imagine:
Postwar!Levi and his lieutenant right after the war. After the fog clears up reader goes straight to Levi and they hug on the ground. (They don't really have an established relationship, throughout everything they've gone from strangers to best friends to "I love you and I'm terrified". And I guess they have their reasons.)
Postwar!Levi being rushed to the infirmary to get his leg treated before infection spreads. Cue to Levi having to stay there for a couple of months. Meanwhile reader is almost always with him and when she's not, she's handling other affairs like looking for accommodation for the both of them, but also looking for a way to make Levi's dream (the teashop) a reality. So when she's with him at the hospital she'd just randomly ask vague questions "My dad sent me a letter... what kind of color would suit walnut flooring?".
Postwar!Levi getting discharged from the hospital and reader surprising him with their new home.
And now the interesting stuff happens!!
They both start living together and they beat around the bush regarding their love for each other. Reader thinks that Levi probably wouldn't want her to stay with him forever. Levi feels like he's trapping reader when she could be off living her best life with another man. Getting some cute moments, cute interactions, but also angst, but also comfort. Generally, I'm not really a fan of smut but it'll probably happen as well, when they've established that they love each other and that no one is going anywhere.
I would binge-read a series like that so hard. I also know that fics like that already exist and I've read some and really liked them but either A. they get discontinued B. the smut gets a bit too much for me
So, uh, I tried. Do with this information what you will. Thanks for reading!
#post war levi#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#i love post war levi so much#i want him to be happy and loved and cared for
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THEO NOTT: DATING HEADCANONS
A/N: Theo is practically irrelevant to the HP series and almost entirely fan made, so this is just how I characterize him. Anyway, here’s my second favorite boy (right behind Tom).
His reputation doesn’t mean as much to him as other pure-bloods and Slytherins, so you being in a different house or being a half-blood/muggleborn isn’t going to deter him from wanting to be with you.
Will not introduce you to his father if he has any say in it, ESPECIALLY if you’re anything other than a pure-blood.
Might be hesitant to introduce you to his friends because if they offend you he will not hesitate to confront them about it, but would rather not get into a fight with his friends if he can help it.
Would 110% fight another witch/wizard over you. Typically just hexes them, but if another wizard takes it too far he’s more than willingly to fight the muggle way.
Controversial: doesn’t smoke that often, only once a day after classes end, but always invites you. He likes to hear you talk about your day, doesn’t matter how “boring” you thought it was.
Lover boy through and through. You are this man’s everything.
You once mentioned that your father used to write your mom love letters and how sweet you thought it was. So for the next 2 weeks Theo gave you little love notes throughout the day everyday.
He’s on the quiet side, so you’re the one carrying the conversation usually, but does chime in to make sure you know he’s actually listening.
Doesn’t come from a loving family, so will greedily eat up any kind touch/word you give to him.
Absolutely melts if you make/buy him any type of jewelry. He has so much money and could afford the most expensive jewelry the wizarding world has to offer, but would choose the cheap beaded bracelet you made him instead any day.
The type to do self-care with you. Face mask? Cool. Manicures? He already has a color picked out. Need help with your hair? Just tell him what to do.
Like everyone he is still human and does have negative traits.
Theo knows he is witty and has a sharp tongue when provoked and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. So he’d rather you be angry that he’s not taking the conversation about how you feel seriously than hurt your feelings.
Theo wishes he could say he trust you completely, but his upbringing has left him with trust issues. There’s always a little voice in the back of his mind saying you’re going to fuck him over or leave him one day.
Tries his best not to listen to it. But can’t help but read into your every move, so if he gets suspicious of you that’s when the petty side of him comes out.
It pretty much consists of him accusing you and bringing up things you’re insecure about / struggling with.
Only stops if you walk away or as soon as he sees your tears.
Will apologize, but his apologies are a little on the awkward side, so they feel insincere.
Controversial (again): not kinky in bed, he’s actually fairly vanilla. The kinkiest thing this man does is fuck you from the back. Is willing to experiment though if you really want him to.
Uses typical pet names on you: babe/baby/love. But if he’s looking to tease you he calls you ‘princess’.
Father/Marriage bonus:
GIRL DAD!!! GIRL DAD ALERT!!!
Almost threw up when he first held her because of adrenaline and fear of accidentally dropping her.
Is pretty hands on, helps in any way he can when he’s not working.
Spoils his daughter to hell and back. No one tells his little girl ‘no’.
Married you a few years after your daughter is born. You two had been together since your years at Hogwarts, but the both of you wanted to take it slow as you were both still young. When you got pregnant it was honestly an accident, and once the baby was born you were so wrapped up in being new parents that marriage wasn’t crossing either of your minds.
#anyway#my pookie deserved a list#I love talking about this man#theo nott#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott imagine
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Love Letters to Who
Hyunjin x Female reader
Word count: 4.9k
Synopsis: Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?
A/N: 18+ ONLY! Here's our Hyunjinnie's! Only one more left! But don't fret! I've gotten a lot of really great requests while I've been working on this series and still plan to do a part 2 to Everything in it's Place so there is plenty more to come! Thank you everyone who has followed along! If you enjoy this part please give it a reblog, like, comment, jump in my an ask box, I love hearing from you guys! Thank you again! As always warnings and smut below the cut!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, mentions of controlling and toxic behavior/relationship, oral (m&f receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv sex (please use protection), coming inside. I'm pretty sure that's it. The soulmate series has been fairly tame smut wise I feel like but if I missed something, please let me know and I'll add it immediately!
It had been a long day but a great one. It was your twenty-first birthday and your family and friends had been over all day celebrating with you. Finger food, cake, presents, the whole nine yards. All of your friends were gone now, your dad had left and your mom stayed over a bit to help you clean up. Just before she left she walked past the table that all your presents had been on and stopped.
“Oh hey! You missed one!” She grabbed the small gift and handed it to you. You looked for a tag with a name but there was none. You shrugged and ripped it open to find a beautiful leather-bound journal. In the corner there were small gold letters, your initials and H.H. You weren’t sure what that meant but it was a wonderful gift, you loved to journal. Your mom left and you got washed up, in pajamas and in bed. You scrolled around on your phone and made a post thanking everyone for coming and for your gifts.
‘Oh and to whomever got me the journal, it had no name but thank you so much!’ Maybe whoever got it for you will comment. You put your phone on the charger and pulled out the new journal and a fresh pen. You opened it to the first page and wrote the date.
‘Today was my twenty-first birthday. It was wonderful. My friends and family were here and I’m very thankful for all of my gifts. It was almost perfect. It would be nice to have someone to share my evening with. To curl up in bed, laugh and talk, make love, fall asleep holding each other. I guess for now, for me, it’s not meant to be. It just makes me a little sad.’ You signed your initials at the bottom of your entry, closed the journal and set it on your nightstand before laying down and going to sleep.
The next day was back to being like any other. You woke up to your alarm, went for a jog, took a shower, had breakfast and went to work. You worked all day, over your time as usual, and then went home. You made something for dinner which either meant you put something small together or accidentally made a feast. It was hard cooking for one.
You watched a few episodes of a show you’d gotten invested in, then it was time to shower and go to bed to do it all again tomorrow. You crawled into bed and grabbed your new journal to write about any small triumphs or losses during your day. You opened it and you were about to flip to the second page when you noticed writing at the bottom of yesterday's entry that wasn’t yours.
‘Not sure who wrote the first entry. It’s strange that it was their twenty-first birthday today too. That evening does sound like a nice way to end your birthday though. I wouldn’t mind ending my birthday like that too. I’m sorry they had to be sad at all on their special day. I hope they find someone kind to fall in love with so they can have a birthday like that next year. In fact, I’m going to use my birthday wish for them and wish that very thing. Whoever you are, wherever you are. Happy Birthday.’ H.H. You were so fucking confused. Had someone broken into your apartment? Why would they take nothing and write in your journal? You turned to the next page and started writing.
‘I think someone broke into my apartment! Maybe one of my friends? Nothing is missing but someone wrote an entry in my new journal. It was nice but extremely weird. Like I just don’t know why anyone would do that. Everything else about today was totally normal other than that. Maybe I should get some security cameras just to be safe. I should mention it to mom and dad but I don’t want to worry them. I’ll look into cameras tomorrow. Now I feel like the bed will seem bigger and lonelier tonight while I worry about who was in here. Hopefully I’m not gutted in my sleep.’ Your initials signed the entry and you closed the book.
Tuesday was a copy paste day which meant it was exactly like your Monday. You had checked into some cameras, at least for the door and the living room. You were so busy the rest of the day you had forgotten about your journal until you were climbing into bed again. You grabbed it and immediately turned to the second page. Just to see. Just to laugh at yourself for thinking someone broke in just to write a cryptic entry in your new journal. Just to laugh... but you weren’t laughing. There at the bottom of the second page, under your entry from yesterday was the same handwriting and while beautiful you were officially freaked out.
‘Gutted in your sleep?! Jesus Christ! That’s fucking terrifying! I think I have a theory that I plan on checking tonight. If I’m right, I might scream and burn this thing! We’ll see I suppose.’ H.H. You turned to the next page. You wrote the date.
‘I don’t know who the hell keeps-’ You stopped writing when words that were not yours started scribbling across the page out of nowhere. You dropped your pen, slammed the book closed and threw it.
“What the fuck!?” You rubbed your eyes and looked at the journal on the floor across your room. You didn’t just see that. It was a trick of the light or a long day. Yea, it was a long day and you were just seeing things. You were certain when you went and grabbed that book and opened it that it was going to be a page with a date at the top and half a sentence.
You slowly walked over, knelt down, and picked up the journal, then went and sat back down on your bed. You closed your eyes and opened it. You slowly opened them and you were in disbelief. There on the page, in the same writing from the two days before...
‘Do you see this?’ You did, but what were you seeing? More words started appearing.
‘If you are seeing this, please, write back.’ You picked up your pen.
‘I see it.’ You waited and then words started appearing again.
‘Holy shit! Okay so do you need like help crossing?’ You scrunched up your face confused by what they were asking.
‘What do you mean? Crossing what? Like a bridge?’
‘How can I help settle your spirit? Is there a message from beyond that you would like me to pass along to a loved one?’ Oh for fucks sake. They thought you were a ghost.
‘I am not a ghost!’
‘Oh no you didn’t remember that you died! Were you gutted in your sleep?! Oh god I’m so sorry!’ You shook your head and scribbled.
‘No no no. I’m just not dead. Not a ghost.’ There was a long pause before the next words appeared on the page.
‘Are you sure? On a scale of 1-10 how certain are you?’ You pressed your fingers into your eyes taking a deep breath. Be understanding. It was a super crazy situation.
‘I’m sure. 1,000. I’m very much so alive. You said your birthday was the other day too. Did you get a journal?”
‘Yeah. Did you send it? What the hell is going on?!’ Whoever was writing seemed like they were starting to freak out a bit. You tried to calm them down.
‘No I didn’t send it. I’m not sure what’s going on. Let’s try and keep calm. My name is y/n, what’s yours?’
‘I’m Hyunjin. How are you so chill about this? This is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me!’ You weren’t really sure why you weren’t freaking out yourself.
‘I don’t know how to explain it but it doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to be a scary or ominous thing. I don’t understand what’s happening or why but it kind of feels like we were meant to get these books. I don’t know I’m sure that sounds crazy.’ It definitely sounded crazy. You didn’t know this man at all why would you both get some magic book that allows you to write to each other?
‘So what do we do?’ Why in the world was he asking you? You had no idea.
‘I don’t know. I guess only one of us should use it. Since you used your birthday wish for me you take it.’
‘Well wait now. Wishing you well and me keeping some magic journal isn’t exactly a fair trade’
‘Really Hyunjin it’s okay. Besides it’s only a magic book if we both write in it. Enjoy and happy birthday.’ You signed your name, a small heart, then closed the book and put it away on your bookshelf. You grabbed another journal and made an entry in it about the magic journal and Hyunjin and then you went to bed.
For the first few days after, you found yourself looking over at the bookshelf wondering if Hyunjin was using it, tempted to look inside, but you had told him he could use it and that would be invading his privacy, his innermost thoughts and you couldn’t do that. So you left it. About a month after your birthday a guy accidentally bumped into you coming out of the café, making you spill your coffee.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You looked at the, luckily, iced coffee down the front of you and sighed.
“It’s okay it happens.” You went to walk off and get clothes that were not saturated in bean water when he hurried to stop you.
“Wait uh... I feel terrible really. Let me make it up to you!” You started shaking your head.
“No really it’s not nec-” He put his hands together.
“Please, let me do something... uh... let me take you to dinner?” You stopped surprised. You figured he’d ask to replace the coffee and you were prepared to say no again but he asked about dinner.
“Dinner?” He nodded, smiling.
“Yes! Please! Let me take you to dinner to make up for being such an absolute klutz.” Wow. He was really cute and he seemed nice. Hyunjin had used his birthday wish for you, maybe the universe was putting it into play.
“Okay, dinner.” He smiled ear to ear and gave you his phone number so that you could make the arrangements, after you got out of your wet coffee-stained clothes that is. The cute klutz's name was Ian and the dinner to make up for exploding your coffee on you ended up being the first of many. Weeks, months went by and lots of other firsts came and went. First kiss, first time sleeping together, first Christmas as a couple.
Things started out perfect and you were so happy. Then over a period of time, you started to see another side of Ian. It started with him getting irritable and he’d do little controlling things. They were always so subtle and the way he would suggest something questionable he always made it seem like it should be so reasonable.
You put up with a lot for quite a while but after five months of it, when Ian asked you to move in and you said no, that was the last straw. You’d been at dinner and he’d quietly accepted the no while in the restaurant but once dinner was over and you were in the car, he lost it. He was yelling as he drove recklessly through the streets, narrowly missing a few cars and running multiple red lights.
You were scared he would crash you into someone on purpose out of sheer anger. Somehow you made it to your apartment without wrecking. When he came to a screeching halt out front you immediately got out of the car and bent down looking in mad.
“It’s over Ian. We’re done!” You slammed the car door shut and he started to get out of his car.
“Wait... baby!” The babies were starting and you weren’t waiting. After that car ride and the things he said, you were done. You went inside your apartment and you heard him speed off, his tires chirping. His texts and calls started right after and you just turned your phone off. He’d give up eventually. You laid out on your bed and cried, angry with yourself for letting him fool you, angry for fooling yourself.
Deep down you felt it. It wasn’t right, he wasn’t ever going to be the one no matter what you had tolerated. You knew you did what was best but you still felt the void it left too. For the first time in six months, you went over to your bookshelf that you kept the journal on and grabbed it.
You walked back over to your bed and sat down with your legs crossed and the book in your hands. You sat there looking at it for a good while. You just needed to pour your heart out and you could do that in any one of your journals but you wanted to do it in this one. You flipped to the first blank page you found and started writing.
‘I didn’t read any of your entries I promise. I just had to...I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought your wish had come true. I met a guy and I thought the wish really came true, but it ended up being a horrible mistake. I think about you all the time. I don’t know why when we only wrote each other the one time and I know this might be strange to say but I miss you.’ You signed your name and a heart and closed the journal putting it on your nightstand, then went to sleep.
The next morning you woke up and your eyes were immediately on the journal when they opened. You sat up and grabbed it but hesitated to open it. What if he didn’t write back? What if he was mad that you wrote in it again when you said you wouldn’t? What if he thought it was weird that you said you missed him? How can you miss a guy you don’t even know?
You took a deep breath and opened the book to the last page you had written on. There underneath your entry was Hyunjin’s beautiful handwriting and you could feel a weight lifting off your chest.
‘He didn’t hurt you did he?! I’m so sorry it didn’t come true. If I’m being honest, I miss you too and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I don’t know why I can’t get you out of my head when I don’t even know you. Go to the page after our last conversation and start reading the entries.’ H.H. He wanted you to read his journal entries? You were confused. You went to the page he told you and started reading.
‘It’s been a few days. I’ve opened the book here and there to see if maybe you had written something. I don’t know, I feel like if I'm not using it for its intended purpose then I shouldn’t use it and its purpose was for me to write you. I don’t know why. I hope you’re doing well wherever you are and I hope one day you open your book and see this. Until then I’ll write to you.’ You turned the page and there was the next entry.
Hyunjin telling you about his day, and then questions about things he wished he knew about you with space left beneath for your answers. He would tell you his answers as well, his likes and dislikes. You went through, day after day, it was all always written to you.
Poems he’d read, work he’d finished, random silly things about his days that usually made you laugh and then questions. You read every page, answered every question and by the time you got to where you had written again you felt like you had known Hyunjin your whole life. You looked at the last words Hyunjin had written on the page.
‘I think we should meet.’ Your heart skipped a beat and you started to panic. Meet?! It seemed so sudden, so fast. You had only just ended things with Ian but something was drawing you and Hyunjin to each other and not just the journals. You decided there was no use fighting it.
‘When? Where?’ Hyunjin told you to meet him Sunday at eleven at the café by the park. You would get coffee, go for a walk, and talk.
‘How will I know it’s you?’ Hyunjin thought for a minute.
‘I’ll wear my hair pulled back.’ Sunday was only a day away. You panicked most of Saturday and rifled through your whole closet deciding what to wear. You decided on nice but casual, you picked a wide necked oversized sweater and a tank top with some jeans and tennis shoes.
Sunday you were walking up to the café when you saw a guy sitting at an outdoor table reading a book. He was hands down the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on. Two beauty marks adorned his face, one on his cheek, the other under an eye, he had lips that looked pillowy soft, and long blonde hair pulled back. There was no way that was Hyunjin, but what were the chances of two guys with long hair pulled back showing up at the café at the same time. You slowly walked up ready to make an ass out of yourself when you realized it wasn’t him.
“Uh... Hyunjin?” The man looked up from his book and his eyes locked on you. His mouth was slightly opened and he didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there, you didn’t know if it was him or not. Finally the man shook his head and smiled at you.
“Yes! Sorry! Yes, I'm Hyunjin. You must be y/n.” He stood and leaned in to hug you as you put out your hand, then you leaned in to hug him and he stuck his hand out. You both laughed and leaned in for a little hug then you joined him at the table he’d been sitting at.
“What would you like? I’ll go order it for you.” You gave Hyunjin your order and he went inside to get your coffee. You pinched yourself as you sat there waiting to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The man that penned at least a hundred and fifty-three pages, written to you, was not only intelligent and kindhearted he was also insanely gorgeous.
It only took Hyunjin a couple minutes to get your coffee. When he came back he sat across from you and set your drink down. You had a little small talk as you sat there and you were nervous. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but you were.
“Do you want to go on a walk in the park?” You weren’t sure if he was picking up on your energy but a walk sounded perfect.
“I’d like that.” Hyunjin put his book in his messenger bag and hung it around himself. You both grabbed your coffees and took the path that led to the flower garden in the park. As you walked around you were able to calm down a little and it was easier to talk as you both admired the flowers.
You got quiet when, part of the way through, Hyunjin’s fingers wove through yours and he held your hand as you continued to walk along the path. After a minute he stopped and faced you. God he was beautiful and with the flowers and the perfect weather he looked ethereal.
“y/n I want to say something but I don’t want to freak you out.” You nodded.
“Okay, just so you know if you’re trying to not freak me out, saying that is not a great start.” Hyunjin laughed nervously.
“I suppose not.” You grabbed his other hand and squeezed them both gently.
“Go ahead Hyunjin, I’m just teasing. It’s okay.” He took a deep breath.
“I... I think we might be soulmates.” You wanted to act shocked. You wanted it to be a startling hypothesis, but it wasn’t. In fact, as soon as he said it you felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner but not everyone has a soulmate.
“Oh my god! Of course!” He breathed a sigh of relief hearing you agree. He was worried you might not believe him, that you might reject him. He also didn’t want you to think that just because you were soulmates you had to rush anything. There was still so much to learn about each other.
You both were so caught up in the moment you didn’t notice the grey clouds making their way in. Then suddenly the sky opened up and it started to pour down rain. Hyunjin gripped your hand tighter and ran for the closest building with an awning. You were both soaked laughing, you looked up at him and saw stray wet hairs stuck to his face. You pushed them back, your fingers tracing his skin and your eyes watched as his tongue darted across his pouty lips.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You stood on your toes, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him under that awning in the rain. Then Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. It was like fireworks were going off. It was so different than your first kiss with Ian. That first kiss with Ian was when you knew it wasn’t right that he wasn’t the one, but your first kiss with Hyunjin? Felt like coming home.
On your and Hyunjin’s twenty second birthday you spent your shared day with both your families and friends. When the day was over and everyone had left, you laid in bed together, laughing as Hyunjin dramatically recalled how he reacted to the entry you had written about hoping to not be gutted. You laid your head on his chest and as your laughter died down you could hear his heart thumping. Without a word you sat up and climbed on top of Hyunjin straddling his waist, then leaned over and kissed him. Your lips parted from his only enough to speak.
“Happy birthday Hyunjinnie.” You kissed him again and he held your face as he deepened it. He pulled away breathless.
“Happy birthday baby.” He kissed you again and started running his hands down your body. They traveled under your night shirt and he gripped your soft breasts as his tongue explored your mouth. You sat up quickly pulling the shirt off over your head and then leaned back down and claimed Hyunjin’s lips again.
You started pulling his shirt up and your lips left his long enough to pull it off. You were grinding your hips into Hyunjin’s, hands gripping each other, teeth biting, tongues tasting. Hyunjin sat up wrapping his arms around you and then suddenly you were on your back under him. He pulled down his sweatpants and kicked them off as he reached into your panties and started teasing your clit with two fingers.
“So wet for me already?” You pushed at him.
“Hyunjinahh! Don’t tease!” He smiled before kissing down your neck and shoulder, the two fingers still gently rubbing your arousal over the sensitive nerves.
“No teasing tonight baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed down your chest and started sucking on your breasts. You wove your fingers through his hair as he kissed and sucked at your nipples. You moaned when the two fingers he had been rubbing you with slid inside you.
Hyunjin made his way down your body as he fingered you and when his face hovered over your clothed core you thought you might lose your mind at the sight of him. He pulled your panties to the side and when he started to eat you out you gripped his hair again, tighter.
“Jinnie! God yes! Right there!” Hyunjin pumped his fingers into you and licked your clit before kissing it.
“Right there jagiya?” He started sucking on your clit and you aggressively shook your head.
“YES! FUCK YES!” Hyunjin took his time. He’d mapped your body out countless times now and he knew how to drive you to the brink of madness from pleasure alone and he was going to do just that. His fingers worked inside you brushing against your g spot as he continued to lick and suck on your clit you could feel the building climax inside you.
“Please... please... please...” You plead with Hyunjin needing the release you were desperately close to. His pillowy soft lips latched around your clit again and when he hummed against you, you went plummeting into your orgasm.
“Hyu-Hyun-Hyunjinnie! Oh my god! Yesyesyes!” Your hips tried to grind up against his face but his strong hands held you down as he continued to guide you through your climax. He gently took long slow licks up your glistening cunt as you started twitching from the overstimulation.
He gave your pussy one last soft kiss and then climbed back up towards your face, your lips. His pressed against yours, so plush, as the fog in your head started to lift. You started sitting up prompting Hyunjin to as well, although he wouldn’t stop kissing you. He loved the way you tasted. Your skin, your lips, your cunt, he could never get enough.
You guided him to sit back against the headboard, his legs spread. Your lips only left his to leave a wet trail of kisses down Hyunjin’s neck and chest. His fingers threaded through your hair as you made your way down his body. When your lips hovered over his throbbing cock you looked up at him, licking your lips. He couldn’t help the shuddering breath he took at the sight of you between his legs. He gently traced his fingers down your face, biting his lip.
“Please baby... suck on it.” You nodded smiling and put the tip in your mouth, running your tongue around it and sucking like Hyunjin had asked of you. He moaned and pulled your hair up into a ponytail with his hands so he could see as you started to work your way further down his shaft. When you gagged on him, you pulled off stroking him, looking into his eyes, watching them glint from the pleasure you were giving him.
“I want you to cum in my mouth Jinnie.” His jaw dropped surprised to hear you say that. He’d never done that before.
“I... are you sure?” You licked your lips looking at him and nodded. Hyunjin nodded back and you started sucking his dick again. You bobbed up and down, using your spit to stroke what you couldn’t fit. His tip kept pressing against the back of your throat and Hyunjin thought he would lose his mind it felt so good. His breath came faster as his stomach sucked in and out.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You hummed giving your permission again to cum in your mouth and the vibrations from your lips pushed him over the edge. He whimpered and his body stiffened, as well as his grip on your hair as he started to spill into your mouth.
“Oh god! Oh fuck! Jagiya mmmm!” His head thumped back against the headboard as you drank down every drop of his cum. You licked the tip one last time and looked up at his fucked-out face, head tilted back. He took another deep breath and looked down at you again.
When he saw that sweet face of yours, his heart melted. He was yours. Always. He loved you so much. He pulled you to sit in his lap and he held your face as he kissed you. You sat there like that for who knew how long. Arms wrapped around each other, slowly, softly kissing.
After making out a while, you slid your panties off, leaned forward and gripped Hyunjin’s cock, pushing it inside you. You both held on to the other, moaning as he filled you. You slowly started working your hips against his as you looked into each other’s eyes. It was so intimate, so sensual.
“I love you Hyunjin.” He kissed you and every time he kissed you it felt just like the first, fireworks. He pressed his forehead to yours as you continued riding him.
“I love you too y/n, I love you so much...” He held you as your bodies pressed and rubbed together, sweaty, hot. You made love like that for what felt like forever, for what felt like would never be long enough. You both were holding the others face, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on their love, their forever, as you came together.
Tears streaked your face as your trembled through your climax, Hyunjin’s warm cum filling you. He wiped your tears and hugged you closely. You rested your head on his shoulder as Hyunjin softened inside you, both of you basking in the warmth of the other. When heartbeats and breathing returned to normal you curled up together in bed. Hyunjin’s birthday wish for you had come true after all, in ways he never had imagined.
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#stray kids smut#skz smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#skz317cb97#cal 🖤#skz317cb97 soulmate au series
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💌letter four - why is love so contradicting?
╰► hwang hyunjin has sent you a letter !
series masterlist
“we haven’t talked for almost a week now and i’m starting to lose my mind. even if this was my idea and it was me who said that we need to spend some time alone.
i miss your laugh. before our conversation you told me this funny story from your work and you giggled the whole time and i swear i’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.
we’ve been dating for almost a year now, but recently it seems as if we’ve come to a standstill. i think you felt it too, because you didn’t even protest when i said we need to slow down and reconsider our goals. we'd kept talking about our future and you seemed so excited when you were telling me about your plans and dreams, but the conversations never led to action. it feels like these were just empty words. the breeze we felt together has calmed down and it hurts me so much. i love you more than you’ll ever know, but now i struggle to keep myself together and stay strong. not when i feel as if i’m losing you.
where do we go from here? i think it’s time we seriously thought about “us” and our future. we’ve been through so much together already and i wanna believe that we will overcome every obstacle on our way to happiness. but we have to come to some kind of compromise here. i want to fight for our relationship, because i know that we can come out of this stronger.
you mean the world to me. you’re a light in the darkness, a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. you are my hope. but all of this feels like we’re on a train running without a destination. let’s go back to the beginning and find all of the things that went wrong along the way. we’ll find a solution, i’m sure of it. for me, love doesn’t have an expiration date and with that in mind, i believe our relationship will blossom again and we’ll find the long forgotten happiness.
until the end of time, hyunjin.
PS. i’m about to send you a message with a request to meet and talk. i hate myself for suggesting being alone when we needed each other the most. i’m sorry. but we’ll work this out, my love, i promise. we’ll make up for the lost time and feel the joy of life again”
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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 4: Stepmother
terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!
Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)
Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your father reconnects with you.
Hello! This one, in comparison to the last, kinda flew outta me! Keep in mind that this is Episode 2 from Reader's POV; a lot of the action here is centred on Viserys, Alicent, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and thus the canon events are sorta sidelined by Reader's Big Adventures as a Toddler, lol. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for tolerating my bullshit and reading this thing, lol!
TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's courtship shenanigans with various underaged females, ranidaphobia (fear of toads), childlike angst.
You never really thought a lot about the things you used to do with Mama. Now that she is dead, you begin to see all the ways that your days and nights had so so much Mama and not much of everyone else.
When Brella woke you up and got you into your dress, you would go straight to wherever Mama is to break your fast. Sometimes, that was in her rooms or in her solar where the sun shone in from the window and made you yawn. Other times, she would be with Papa in the Council rooms or with ’Nyra, so you’d go there instead. Mama always helped you by cutting up your food with the knife because you are too little to touch it, and then she watched you with kind eyes while you used the fork very carefully. After you finished all your food, you would sit on the floor with Brella and learn each of your letters by tracing the etchings in your hornbook and thinking of all the things that started with that letter. Your favourite letter is ‘M’ for Mama. You also like ‘R’ for ’Nyra because her full name is Rhae-nyra, but you stutter when you have to say the whole thing. Then, you would play with your dolls for a while, and then have some more food, and then take a nap. When you woke up, Brella would teach you some of the steps to the dances that grown-up ladies do—one day, you’ll be grown-up and do them, too, so it is important to know them and practise all the steps so that the lords think you are pretty and marriage-able. Mama would then take you outside to play, or even just walk around the gardens so that you could touch all the flowers and feel warm in the sunshine. Brella would give you a bath, and then you would eat supper, and then Mama or maybe Uncle would come and read you a story and you’d go to sleep.
But Mama is gone now, and Brella is the only person that is the same from your days and nights before Mama went away and became not-real.
You never saw much of ’Nyra before, because she is ten years older and that means she doesn’t want to play with little girls like you all day. ’Nyra comes by lots now, almost as much as Mama did, and she sits and plays dolls or teaches you more words in High Valyrian. It is nice, even though she always has to leave for her Council meetings because she is the heir now. But you don’t mind. Usually, Alicent stays behind to practice your dance steps with you or to trace over the letters in your hornbook. When you get upset—letters are very hard and sometimes you want to throw the hornbook away, but Brella tells you “no” which makes you frustrated—Alicent sings songs her mama taught her, and when she hugs you, it is like it was with Mama, special and warm and love-feeling on the inside, like butterflies.
Even though ’Nyra and Alicent and Brella all try so so hard to fill your days and nights with all the things you used to do, like it is the same as it was, it’s not the same. You dance and play and eat and learn and sleep but Mama isn’t there to help with any of it like before. It makes you cry sometimes, sudden and coming from nowhere at all. You just stop and cry and cry and no hug or song can make it any better, and you cannot say exactly why you are crying because you don’t know how to put it in words. You don’t know how to talk about the way you miss Mama when you see the flowers and she’s not there to tell you their names, or when you learn the dances and she doesn’t hum the music that you do the steps to, or when you want a hug the most and no one can do it exactly right like she can. So, you cry, and you have to wait for all the tears to get themselves out before you can stop.
It isn’t all sad, though. Some things are good, too.
Like Papa. Since he had come to tell you that Mama and Baelon died, he has ignored you, which means he doesn’t look at you or talk to you or even think you exist. Brella and Alicent said it is because he is grieving, because he is feeling sorrow, so you try not to be so upset that he doesn’t love you anymore. But one day, instead of ’Nyra coming to see you, Papa does.
When Brella suddenly stands and curtseys, you see him in the doorway of your rooms, and your dolls don’t seem very important anymore. “Papa?” you ask, almost sick with the fear and excitement of him finally being there.
He smiles, a small one, and comes inside. As he looks around, it’s like he cannot remember where he is, but you suppose that he doesn’t spend a lot of time in here with you, so he finds all your things strange. Papa pulls out one of the chairs by the table—you never sit there, but all the rooms in the Keep come with tables so you aren’t allowed to have yours taken out—and holds out his hand to you like Mama did when she wanted to give you a hug without getting up.
You put Alysanne down on the floor beside Marya and Hana and Brella and go to your papa. His hand feels funny, not like you think it used to. Uncle’s hands—man’s hands, he always says—have hard skin in parts, which makes holding them scratchy. Papa’s aren’t like that. His are soft where Uncle’s are not, but there are bits where the skin doesn’t seem to want to stick down all over, and instead they come up and show the really red parts deeper inside, like when you fall over and the stone stings against your knee and makes you wail.
“Oh, my girl,” Papa says, and then he’s lifting you onto his knee. He is looking at you, just looking, and his eyes are shiny-bright. “My girl. My little Aemma.”
Lots of people say you look like Mama, whose name was Aemma before she was Mama, and you love love that Papa thinks you are like her. She is who he loves the most, so maybe he will visit more if she is gone and you are like her.
You don’t say that to him, though. “I miss you, Papa,” is what you say instead.
“I know.” He swallows hard. Maybe he has venison stuck there again. “I am sorry. I should have come much sooner. You are only… only a child.”
“I’m a big girl.” You try not to pout, because Uncle says only silly little babies do that when they’re angry or upset, and you’re not a baby.
That makes Papa laugh. “Oh, of course you are. My mistake. Tell me—what have you been doing as of late?”
He’s never asked you that before. Papa would only ever give you hugs or say nice things about you to other people back when Mama was not dead, so it’s very exciting that he wants to know about you now. You tell him all about how ’Nyra is teaching you High Valyrian and how you are learning your letters with Brella, which he seems interested to listen to. When you tell him about how Alicent helps you learn the dances, he starts talking again.
“The Lady Alicent? She has been spending time with you, has she?”
“Yeah,” you say.
“And what do you think of her?” he asks, staring very closely at you. “Do you like her?”
The question is strange. She has been ’Nyra’s friend for a long long time, so Papa should ask your sister instead of you if he wants to know if Alicent is good. But you think about it anyway—you think about how she takes you to the Sept to light candles for Mama, how she always sounds like she wants to hear what you are saying, even though you’re only little. You think about how warm she is, and how her hugs make the sad go away so well.
That stays in your mind longest of all, which is why you say what you say to him. “She’s good, like Mama. I like her lots.”
He makes a noise but doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he looks away from you, his eyes going far away like he’s seeing something different than what’s in front of him. It makes you wonder again about why he is here.
“Is there a bad thing that happened?” you ask.
He frowns, his knee jumping a little bit under you. “What makes you say that?”
“You don’t come and see me, Papa, but you’re here, so maybe you have to say something bad again.” It is hard not to think about the last time, when he told you Mama was dead and Baelon was, too. It’s even harder not to think about how long that was before now, how this is the first time in a while that you have seen him up close. “Do—do you still love me?”
Papa says your name in a very sad way and hugs you so hard that your arms feel pushed in too close. “You are my daughter, my blood. The very best of your mother and I. ‘Tis through my own weakness that I have not done my duty as a father, and naught of your own.” When he pulls away, he cups your face in his hands. “Never, ever doubt that I love you.”
It makes you feel so warm inside, like your heart is going pitter-patter or someone has wrapped a big blanket all around you. Papa’s words are safe words, because they mean he has not forgotten you and he still wants you and loves you. You are very, very glad, so you put your hands over his and squeeze to show him that you love him, too.
“Okay, Papa,” you say. He looks like he might cry, and you don’t want him to be so upset, so you think of how Alicent sings songs to you when you are sad to distract you, which means she tries to make you feel more happy. You cannot sing very well, but you do have nice toys. “Can I show you my dolls?”
All of a sudden, his sorrow goes away and he smiles, showing his teeth. “Why ever not? Go on, then.”
Beaming, you wiggle off his lap and get Alysanne and Marya and Hana to show Papa, and you are very happy because he loves you again and the whole world doesn’t feel so sad anymore.
You’ve known Laena and Laenor Velaryon for as long as you can think of.
It is very hard to think far far back, because you are only small and so there is a lot of time that you were only a baby for, and babies don’t really have memory, which is what Brella has told you. But Lord Corlys is one of the men on Papa’s Council, who help him run his kingdom well and make everyone happy. Because Lord Corlys is Master of Ships, he spends most of his time in the Keep, and he is Laena and Laenor’s father, which means that Laena and Laenor also spend time in the Keep.
They are both very nice to you. Laena, the older one, always makes sure to smile and give you a curtsey whenever she sees you, and Laenor likes to say that your hair is braided well or your dress is pretty. You are little, though, and that means they don’t really want to spend much time with you, so ’Nyra knows them better. When Princess Rhaenys, their mama, brings them to court, she and Lord Corlys usually spend their time with Papa and Mama while Laena and Laenor spend time with ’Nyra and sometimes Alicent.
Today, something strange is happening. It looks like Laena has come without Laenor to spend time with Papa.
They are walking in the gardens together, and Brella has told you that it means you cannot go out to play there. Instead, you have to be in the sitting area that looks over the gardens with ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys. Both of them are watching Papa and Laena very carefully. You are glad you don’t have to do that—Brella has brought your hornbook outside so that you can do some more learning while you wait for Papa to finish.
You sit on a cushion on the stone next to Brella, the hornbook in your lap. Over and over, you trace the letter ‘T’, the big one and the little one next to it. “Tree. Trail. Toe”—you wiggle yours underneath the leather of your slippers—“Toy. Toad—”
“Toad?” Brella’s eyebrow is raised high. “Wherever is this ‘toad’ that you can supposedly see?” She looks around, chin tilting and eyes crinkling like a glare.
“In my mind.” You do see it there—brown, with big bulging eyes and feet that look like claws are at the end of them—and shiver. All the books make them look so horrible. “The toad is up here,” you say, pointing to the spot between your eyes and your hair. “It’s squishy and cold and has spots on it.”
Brella shakes her head. “That is not the game, is it? Real things only, please.”
“There’s no more ‘T’ words. I need more so I can go to ‘U’.”
“Hm.” Brella stares past you for a moment, and then her eyes fall on yours again. “How about I help? Over there”—she points to where Princess Rhaenys is sitting—“the bit that is dangling off the pillow? Tassel.”
“Tassel,” you say, stretching the ‘ss’ sound out like a snake. “Tassel.”
“And…” She stops, and from the way the skin between her brows scrunches, she must be thinking very hard. “Ah! What am I?”
“You’re Brella,” you say, confused.
“No—that’s who I am. What am I being, right now?” She hasn’t helped you any more with these words. She might have made it even harder to guess. “If I’m helping you to learn,” she says, “then I am tee… What?”
It’s almost like your head is on fire from how much you have to think. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath and push like you sometimes do when Brella is showing you how to use the privy like a big girl. It is hard, because ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys are talking and the sound is distracting.
And then, you remember the word. “Teaching! You’re a teacher!”
“Exactly, Princess! Well done!” Brella smiles.
“… to elicit some anger from me, you should know that you're failing, Princess.”
You look to the side. ’Nyra is being very loud, her voice so easy to hear even from where you are. Princess Rhaenys is no better.
“Quite the opposite. Whether it's to my daughter or to someone else's, your father will remarry sooner than late,” she says with a funny twist to the lips that doesn’t look very friendly at all. “His new wife will produce new heirs, and chances are, better than not, that one of those will be male. And when that boy comes of age and your father has passed, the men of the Realm will expect him to be heir, not you. Because that is the order of things.”
You do not even have the time to try and make sense of what she’s said—Princess Rhaenys has used a lot-lot of words—when Brella stands and grabs you under the arms. Your hornbook falls onto the blanket laid out on the ground with a quiet thud.
“Come along, Princess,” she says, already pulling you toward the stairs.
“But—”
“This conversation is not for us to hear.” She takes your hand and moves slowly onto each step so that you can go down them one at a time. Soon, you are at the bottom and your shoes are on the trail that goes all the way around the gardens.
You tug your hand free of Brella so that you can run to the grass, smiling wide because it’s like a cloud under your feet, so it is very fun to twirl around on. When you reach it, your footsteps go from hard and quick to soft and slow, and you pretend there are so so many pillows on the ground that you are jumping on.
“Be careful!” Brella calls, but you are not paying much attention.
You swing your arms out wide and spin so fast that the world stops being full of things and is only colours—blue and green and brown and yellow—mixing together in your eyes, and your heart speeds up and gets so loud that you can hear it inside your ears. When you stop spinning, your eyes keep trying to move quick and your whole body wants to tip over. You let it, giggling when you collapse and the grass pokes you in the back of the neck like tiny little swords, or needles. The sun is warm warm on your face and even through your dress, and it makes you so sleepy, so you get up before Brella decides you should go and have a nap.
Then, you see Papa walking with Laena, Lord Corlys with them. They are all going back towards where ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys are. Where you are.
“Papa!” you say loudly, feet already moving before you know what’s happening. “Papa!”
You cannot see his face up close, but you imagine he is smiling, so you run even faster, trying not to listen to Brella calling out behind you. She doesn’t like it when you run.
It takes only a moment to know why. Your eyes are still going funny and your body still wants to tip over, so when your toes get stuck in the place where the grass becomes the trail that Papa is on, you fall.
Your hands are stinging when you realise you are on the ground again. It hurts so much that you cry before you even see what has made it hurt. Rolling over so that you are sitting, you lift your palms up. They are so red, like the colour of the dragons on your House sigil, and they are covered in all the tiny rocks that the trail is made up of, but they’re not coming off. You cry harder.
“Oh, Princess.” A little hand comes in right next to yours, gently grabbing onto your fingers. When you look up, you see Laena next to you. She doesn’t look scared or upset, which makes you feel a tiny bit better.
Brella is breathing very hard. “I am so very sorry, Your Grace—I did tell her not to run—”
“Not to worry, Nurse,” Papa says as he crouches down beside you. “Children hardly do as they are told all the time. Sh, my girl, you’re alright.”
He pats you on the back, but that doesn’t stop the stinging in your hands or the tears that are coming fast from your eyes and making your nose feel runny.
“I can help, if you’d like.” Laena gives you a small smile, her other hand on your shoulder. “Just need to brush off your palms, and you’ll be fine. Here.” She holds on to your wrist and runs her fingers over the rocks in your hands, which doesn’t feel nice but doesn’t hurt either, and they come away very quick. The stinging isn’t as much after. “See? All better.”
“Say ‘thank you’ to the Lady Laena,” Papa says, looking between her and Lord Corlys with a strange face.
“Thank you, Laena.” You sniff hard to try and stop your nose from running so much. Now that the pain is less, the tears are slower.
“As you can see, Your Grace,” Lord Corlys says, “she conducts herself beyond her years. Her age is inconsequential. She’d make for a worthy bri—”
Papa stops him from finishing his words. “Not—not now, my Lord.” He smiles the way Uncle sometimes smiles at Lord Otto, meaning it is not very nice at all. “We’d best save that discussion for… another time.”
“Your Grace.” Lord Corlys steps back, bending his head low.
Laena stands and leans down to help you up, wiping away the last tears from your cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. “Are you alright now?”
“Yeah,” you say. She is very kind, you think, feeling warm on the inside.
“Nurse,” Papa is saying, “take her to Mellos, just in case.”
“Understood.” Brella picks you up so that your head settles where her neck meets her shoulders and turns around. Over her shoulder you can see Papa and Lord Corlys talking while Laena just stands there, watching them.
And, across the gardens, ’Nyra looks over at them from where she is on the balcony. You cannot see her face clearly. From so far away, though, she seems almost… sad.
There are whispers all around the Keep.
One of the things you like best about being small is that people forget you’re there. It helps you to see and hear things that you wouldn’t usually be told. You don’t understand why you cannot know the things that others do, especially if they’re about your family.
Like now.
Uncle has been gone for a while. He left after Mama’s funeral, and he didn’t even say goodbye. You don’t like to think about it, because it makes you hurt in your chest when you do. When he left to see Lady Rhea, who he hates because of reasons-you-don’t-know, he still made sure to send you letters that Brella would read out to you. This time, he hasn’t sent you anything, and because no one will tell you where he is, you cannot send any to him to remind him that you’re still here and waiting. It’s one of the reasons you cry sometimes, though you’ll never tell that to ’Nyra or Alicent or Brella or Papa.
Even if Uncle is making you sad right now, you still love him, which is why you listen closely when his name keeps getting used by the lords and ladies around you.
“Prince Daemon has seized Dragonstone…
“… even now occupies it in spite of the King’s…”
“… he stole Prince Baelon’s dragon egg, the shame of it!”
Some of it, you don’t understand. But, slowly, a picture forms in your head. One where Uncle has gone all the way to Dragonstone, which Brella says isn’t even that far, to take the egg meant for your brother.
Uncle was angry when Papa made you and ’Nyra choose an egg for Baelon. He yelled at Papa about how he never gave ’Nyra or you an egg as a baby because you were only girls, and what would he do if the baby was another girl? Would he put the egg back and wait for Mama to have a son? Papa didn’t like that at all, and he pretended that Uncle didn’t exist for days until Mama made them say sorry to each other and get along again. But before they said sorry, Uncle asked you if you wanted him to get a dragon egg for you, because dragonriding is in the blood of all Targaryens and you are a Targaryen, too.
“Say the word, sweetling. I’ll take Caraxes right now, should you wish.”
Uncle is walking you back to your rooms after you spent time in the gardens, your hand in his. From the way he frowns as he stares out to the end of the hall, he must still be very angry from the fight he had with Papa in the morning.
You think about his words. “You and ’Nyra didn’t get a dragon from an egg. You found one that was already—already there.”
“I did. But if your brother is to receive a dragon in the cradle, you ought to have the opportunity to claim your own first.”
It would be nice to have a whole baby dragon, all for your own. But Uncle says that sometimes they don’t hatch, that the egg turns to stone and stays that way for so so many years that people forget it has a dragon inside it, and they think it’s just a shiny rock. You don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t want to wait and wait for something that will never come.
“I want a big dragon,” you say, thinking of Caraxes with his long-long neck and his funny noises, more like a bird than a scary monster. “One I can ride already.”
Uncle smiles, squeezing your hand tighter. “Alright, then. For now, you’ll wait, and you’ll get nice and strong. And when you’re older, you’ll go to Dragonstone and find yourself a hatchling, or a young dragon, or perhaps even one of the larger ones.”
“Like you and Caraxes?” You look up at him. “You got him when—when you were thirteen?” You don’t know how much that is, but you know it’s more than ten, which means it is a big number.
“That’s right,” he says, his eyes shining in that way that means you did a good job. You love it when he does that because it means he thinks you are very clever. “And I’m sure that when you’re of suitable age, you’ll have your own chance.”
The talk makes you think straight away that maybe he is trying to get a dragon for you like he said would that time, even though you really want a big dragon that makes your little-ness not seem so little. But then, you hear more.
“… he’s taken his whore to wife…”
“… styled himself the ‘rightful heir to the Iron Throne’…”
“It’s clearly an act of sedition!”
A new picture: Uncle has gone to steal Dragonstone, to steal an egg, and to steal being the heir from ’Nyra.
Stealing is naughty. Once, you stole a lemon cake from the platter after Mama said you couldn’t have anymore, but Mama caught you and you weren’t allowed to have any sweets the whole next day. You wonder how Papa will help Uncle to learn not to steal, if it will be as bad as that.
So many letters could have come from a place like Dragonstone by now. It means that he hasn’t sent any because he didn’t want to, not because he couldn’t. That makes the hurt in your chest even worse.
Because of Uncle’s being naughty, you spend the day with only Brella. Papa is in meetings with his Council and Lord Otto has gone to Dragonstone to tell Daemon he is bad for stealing. You don’t know where ’Nyra is, or Alicent. Brella is extra nice, though, and she lets you have three lemon cakes with your midday meal even though it makes you very giggly and want to run around everywhere. You do all the normal things: learn your letters and practice the dancing steps and play dolls and go outside to the gardens. It isn’t very fun with only one other person, but sometimes people are busy which means they don’t have time to do the things you like doing.
When the sun is starting to go down, Papa comes to see you again. But he’s not alone at the door—he has Alicent with him.
“Good evening,” he says, smiling wide as he goes to the seat he always sits in when he visits your rooms. Alicent follows, but she isn’t smiling as big as Papa.
“Hello, Papa.” You watch with a frown as Brella curtseys and leaves the room. She doesn’t usually leave you by yourself.
Papa holds out his hand, so you go forward and take it. “I have some news to share with you,” he says, patting your hair. “What do you know of marriage, my girl?”
You try to think about all that you can remember. “That—that you and Mama were in one, and Uncle is in one with Lady Rhea. And people aren’t supposed to have babies unless they’re in marriage, but sometimes they do and that’s bad.”
“Oh, my! Well, it sounds like you know a great deal, indeed!” Papa is laughing now, and Alicent’s face has gone bright red. She won’t look at you, which is strange. She is being very quiet.
“You know that I am King?” Papa asks, which makes your eyes go back to him.
“Yeah.”
“Well, a King must have a Queen. ‘Tis important for the stability of the Realm.” He nods like he is agreeing with himself, even though you don’t know what he means so you can’t say he is wrong.
“Mama was the Queen,” you say. It is the only thing you can think of.
“Yes.” Alicent comes forward. Her hand starts moving toward you, then changes to go near Papa’s shoulder, but then she puts it back down in front of her. You wonder what she was trying to do. “An excellent Queen,” she says quietly.
“She was.” Papa sounds sad, but he takes a deep breath. “But the time has come for me to take a new wife—to marry again. I have chosen the Lady Alicent to be my new Queen.” He stares at Alicent, who smiles even though her fingers are twisting around and around each other like she does when she is worried or scared. “Do you understand what I am saying, my girl?”
When Mama was real and not dead, she was the Queen. That meant she had to stand beside Papa and wear a crown sometimes at feasts or balls. She had to have tea with the ladies who come to court and make sure all the maids and servants and all the other people who work in the Keep got their coin for doing their job. She had to give out alms and talk to all sorts of different people all day and try to have babies who are boys and not girls.
Because she was Papa’s wife and he is the King, being the Queen meant she was your mama. You miss her lots and lots.
Papa wants Alicent to be the Queen, now. If she is the Queen, then maybe she has to do all those things, too. Maybe it means she will do all the things that Mama did with you that made you so happy.
“Uh-huh.” You stare at Alicent. “Does that mean that we’ll break our fasts and learn more dance steps and play outside together?”
She smiles. “If you like, Princess.”
You think you would like it very, very much.
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | thirteen
🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you.
🐴Chapter title: Love Letter
🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc
🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.
🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst
🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.
🐴Status: completed 🥳
🐴Word count: 13.4k
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]
🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭
🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)
You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*
*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?
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“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong”
‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle
Fuck.
This was the last thing he expected.
He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.
He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core.
He despises himself for causing you so much pain.
Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.
As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?
“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.
“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”
He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.
“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.
His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.
As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.
“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.
“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.
You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.
As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.
He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.
As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.
Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.
The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.
As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.
Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.
His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.
The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.
Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.
“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.
“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.
Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”
Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.
“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.
“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.
“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.
He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.
The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.
“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.
He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.
“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.
You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.
“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—
“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again.
God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.
“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.
“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.
As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.
“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.
His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.
“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.
“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.
“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.
“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.
“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.
He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.
Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.
“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.
He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.
His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?
“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.
Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.
“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.
“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.
Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.
Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.
As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.
“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.
As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.
“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.
“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.
“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.
“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.
“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.
One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.
As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.
He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.
You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.
Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.
“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.
“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.
“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.
“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.
“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.
“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.
“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.
You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.
As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.
He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.
He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”
The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.
“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.
“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.
You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.
You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.
He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.
As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.
As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.
He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.
As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.
“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.
God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”
He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.
He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?
“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.
He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.
“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.
“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.
He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.
The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.
“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.
As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.
“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.
You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.
He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.
Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.
As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.
“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.
Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.
His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.
“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.
“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.
Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.
You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.
You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.
As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.
Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.
In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.
Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.
Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.
As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.
Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.
His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.
“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.
“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.
“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.
You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.
As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.
He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.
Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along?
The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion.
You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?
Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.
“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”
He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.
“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.
Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.
Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.
Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.
He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.
Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off.
And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.
Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.
Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.
Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.
Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.
For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.
He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.
He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.
He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.
You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.
Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.
Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”
Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.
“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.
“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.
“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.
“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.
“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.
“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.
“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.
“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.
“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.
Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”
Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.
“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.
Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”
Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”
Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.
But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him?
Fuck.
Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.
He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.
He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.
Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.
He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.
As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.
He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.
As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.
Fucking hell.
Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.
He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.
Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.
However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.
“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?
“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?
“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.
“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.
“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.
Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.
Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.
The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.
Fuck.
Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.
That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.
Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️
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#jimin x reader#jimin smut#jimin fanfic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts x reader#my heart's home series#reader: female#au: cowboy#au: ranch#au: soulmates#au: childhood friends#au: friends to lovers#au: slice of life#theme: summer#vibe: smutty#vibe: romcom#vibe: angst#vibe: fluffy
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2024 Book Review #12 – What Moves The Dead by T. Kingfisher
I initially meant to read this back last year when it was up for a Hugo nomination, but well – honestly I forgot my copy in an airport waiting room and it’s presumably now living a good life somewhere in a New Jersey compose heap. But a friend had a copy and said they enjoyed it, so! Stole it for a few days, and very glad I did. It’s a quick, fun shot fungal gothic, great for stormy nights.
The basic plot is, well, it’s very explicitly Fall of the House of Usher with a slight admixture of Ruritanian Romance. The Ushers are a genteely impoverished family of minor aristocracy in Ruravia, a less than impressive principality in Eastern Europe. Alex Easton, Roderick Usher’s former commanding officer in some recent war (the Gallacian Army they served in having a habit of getting into these quite habitually) receives a letter from Roderick’s sister Madeline begging company and help, as she is deathly ill. Of course by the time Easton arrives the pair of them look like they’re one stiff wind away from dying, and the estate and the lands around it are both decaying and full of unnerving strangeness. The only person who seems happy to be there is Eugenia Potter, an Englishwoman and amateur mycologist studying the great variety of mushrooms and fungus to be found in the area.
So yes this is very much aiming to be Gothic Classic, at least in aesthetics and trappings. An overgrown and decaying estate several times too large for the last remnants of the family who now occupy it. Genteel madness and disease, hidden behind polite euphemisms and high walls. A deep, atavistic horror at parasitism and the desecration of the human (especially the well-bred, young and female) body by an alien presence. There’s even a cowboy for some reason. It definitely all works for me, but then my exposure to the genre is all a bit second hand.
Speaking of parasitism – mushrooms! The book expresses decay and desecration basically entirely through the idiom of fungal infections, both in terms of metaphor and imagery in descriptions and just in the actual source of the horror here. The lights in the tarn are fungal blooms, Madeline’s disease and her reanimation are both the result of almost drowning and inhaling that fungus into her lungs, and so on. There are two really effective horror beats in the book for me – the image of an infected hare which had just had its head shot off slowly jerking back to its feet as a dozen others placidly stood there and watched it be shot, and the moment of realization that Madeline’s oddly long and wispy body hair is in fact mycelia growing out of her skin – and both play off of this pretty directly.
I very awkwardly didn’t use any pronouns for Easton when giving the plot synopsis because the book actually plays around a bit with gender and pronouns in a way I’ve always loved and wish I saw more of. Easton is Gallacian (unrelated to the actually existing Galicia, I think), and the Gallacian language has a variety of pronoun sets beyond just he and she – one for children, one for God, and one (ka/kan) particularly for soldiers. Which, due to the exigencies of early modern warefare’s manpower requirements, eventually led to both men and women being perfectly eligible to become ‘sworn soldiers’. So y’know, Enlist today! Service guarantees citizen-transition!
(But actually I enjoy the thought and at least superficial sociological plausibility/consideration of what gender means in Gallacian society a lot more than how a lot of modern spec fic just kind of assues that every culture in the world has the perspective on gender of a well-educated 21st century progressive, material conditions be damned).
Anyway yeah, overall very entertaining read. Though Goodreads tells me it’s now the first in the series, which given how cleanly this one ended is not something that fills me with an abundance of faith.
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Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Public sex, voyeurism, female recieving oral, male masturbation.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Hello my babies, I am here to feed you all. I've written ahead, and oh boy, getting emotional because soon (not too soon, don't worry, we have about 20 chapters left or so) this amazing lil journey will be coming to an end! Again, I want to thank you all as usual for you unwavering support, love and kind words. Truly means the world to me. You are all so sweet !
I have also been writing a lil Modern!Aemond story series and have plenty more ideas in the tank that I'm excited to write hehe. So might be a new fic drop soon :P. Anyway, ENJOY! <3
Chapter 83: Desperation
The next morning, Aemond decided to spend his day with you again, his unease from Aegon’s visit the day before setting him on edge. You spent the beginning of your day beneath him, soft kisses being pressed to your lips as he held you tightly against his firm body. Your small apology seeming to have softened his touches once more.
Breakfast was eaten together, as always, and you smiled when he told you that he would be spending the day with you.
“I was going to spend the day in the library reading, perhaps send another letter to Baela and Jacaerys.” You dabbed your lips with the napkin.
“Have you finished ‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’ ?” Aemond asked, setting down his cutlery as he finished the food on his plate.
Leaning back in your chair you smiled, “I did. Why? Did you wish to read it?”
“I think I might.”
You let out a soft laugh, “I never would have thought I would see the day when Aemond Targaryen wants to read a book on the lovers of a woman.”
Aemond tilted his head, “What makes that so unbelievable?” He asked, sounding almost offended.
You mirrored his posture, “You who is possessive to the point of aggression? Wants to learn about a woman who had taken multiple lovers?”
“Hm.”
“Hm.” You parroted him, standing up and moving to his side of the table, “Come, I want to read.”
And read you did not.
Not too long after you perused the isles of books to find a new one to read, Aemond had pressed himself against your back, hands splayed on your hips as he dipped his head to kiss at your neck.
“Aemond,” You hissed, “Insatiable beast.” You swatted at his hands, trying to wriggle from his hold.
Aemond only chuckled and pressed his clothed cock against your backside, a low groan falling from his lips. Your skin felt alight as arousal burst through you.
“We shouldn’t.” You whispered, pushing back against him.
“Why?” Aemond gathered your skirts at your front as you pushed back against him.
“Someone might see.”
Aemond hummed as he dragged his hand between your thighs, fingers diving between your folds, finding them already wet. “I think you like the idea of someone finding us.”
A quiet gasping moan left your lips as he swirled his fingers around your bud, nipping at the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, your hands behind you gripping the material of his breeches, unsure if you were pushing him away or pulling him closer. His long fingers dipped into your wetness before bringing it back up, soothing circles over your bud.
“Fuck.” You whined quietly, hips bucking into his touch.
“Perhaps Ser Cole may find us again.” Aemond teased, and your stomach clenched, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he let two fingers push inside of you.
“You like that don’t you? The idea of being watched? Getting caught?” He teased, dragging his fingers in and out of your heat. You bit your lip to stop you from making any noise, but your walls clamped down on his digits at his words.
“Such a filthy girl you are. Who knew that my sweet wife was so debaucherous.”
You hummed, shutting your eyes tightly as he continued to drag pleasure through you, your hands clutching against the shelf, fingers digging into the hard wood for purchase. Every drag of his fingers caused slick to gather in his palm.
Aemond suddenly spun you around, pushing your back against the shelf, hand ripping out of your centre.
“Need to taste you.” He breathed, before moving down to his knees, hiking a leg over his shoulder as he dove his mouth onto you.
“Fuck.” You whined, gripping his hair in your hands, his expert tongue already swirling over your sensitive bud.
Aemond continued to lap at your core as soft whimpers fell from your lips, a hand flying to your mouth to bite at your fingers, desperate to suppress the sound you made. But Aemond was relentless, grabbing your hand and tugging it away from your face.
“Want to hear you.” He groaned into your cunt, and your head fell backwards against the shelf, books sliding to their side as he slid two fingers back into your core, licking and sucking at your pearl.
Pleasure wound its way inside of your gut and your heart raced in your chest at the thought of someone finding you in your compromised position. Aemond began to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace, and you could not stop the long whine that flew from your chest as his fingers brushed against the spongey spot within you.
“Aemond.” You moaned, writhing your hips up to meet his face as he licked and prodded at your core.
He grunted in approval and continued, speeding up his ministrations as he felt your core begin to tighten around his digits. You squeezed your eyes shut as he sucked your pearl into his mouth, tongue swirling around it wetly.
Prickles moved over your skin, and you felt your peak begin to rise.
“I’m close.” You warned Aemond, which only spurred his movements further, the sound of your wet centre filling the space of the library.
You moved your head to look at him, opening your eyes.
A cry broke from your lips as you locked eyes with a pair of violet ones behind Aemond.
Aemond thought your cry was due to his pleasuring, his tongue and fingers on you, and hummed against your folds. You felt yourself clamp around Aemond’s fingers as he fucked them into you harder and faster, your thighs wet with arousal.
You were frozen.
Staring at the King.
You kept Aegon’s lustful gaze, his lips parted in arousal as he watched you.
Your peak ripped through you suddenly, ecstasy racing through your body as you whimpered loudly into the library, grabbing Aemond’s head with your hands tugging him closer to you as Aegon watched.
Your heart was racing in your chest.
How long had he been there?
“Aemond.” Your voice cracked, still looking at your oldest uncle who took a few steps back silently, standing beside the shelves behind the Prince. Aegon smirked as he watched you twitch, Aemond pressing wet kisses to your thighs before rising up to his full height.
“What?” Aemond asked, catching your eyes as you looked at him, cheeks flushed.
You thought for a beat.
Do you tell him?
Perhaps.
“Need you.” You whimpered, mind made, pulling Aemond in for a searing kiss, Aegon still watching from behind.
Pervert.
Aemond kept hold of your thigh and brought up to his hip, unlacing the front of his breeches whilst his head dipped to kiss the tops of your breasts in your gown, flesh sensitive to the touch. All the while you kept your silent battle of gaze with Aegon, who’s hand slipped down to the front of his breeches, pressing against the straining material in front of his cock.
“Perfect, wet, little cunny.” Aemond groaned as he freed his cock from his breeches, rubbing the head through your slick folds.
You gasped loudly, bucking your hips forward as you pulled him in against you with your leg. In one swift thrust, Aemond entered you, and you let out a loud cry in the library, putting on a show for Aegon.
Let him think he has you.
Aemond began to thrust into you, head tucked into your neck as you held him against you, moaning loudly with each thrust as the sloppy sound of your arousal echoed around you. Aegon had loosened the ties on his own breeches, and stuck a hand down the front.
Disgust wormed its way inside of you, and yet also a strange plucking of delight.
Perhaps Aemond was right, you did like being watched.
Aegon pumped himself in time with Aemond’s thrusts, lip caught between his teeth as he held back any noises. Noises that you still heard to this day. Noises that haunted you.
But right now?
You had power.
You were in control.
And it was exhilarating.
Aemond’s thrusts sped up, his cock bullying your cervix and the bone of his pelvis brushing against your overstimulated bud, your second release winding within you rapidly. You kissed at the side of Aemond’s hair as you watched Aegon pull his cock from his pants, tip red and angry.
Your mouth hung open as the coil within you wound tighter and tighter, Aemond’s hips becoming sloppier by the second as he chased his high. A hand moved to squeeze your breast and you gasped loudly, the flesh tender. Aemond immediately moved his hand away back to your thigh.
“S’close.” You slurred, fingers digging into Aemond’s back as Aegon sped up his hand, “Need you, kepus. Need your seed.” You kept your eyes on Aegon.
Kepus.
Aegon.
Aemond.
The Prince moaned and his hand moved to grasp the skin under your ass, spreading you out on him as a finger moved to rub against your puckered hole gently. Sparks shot up your spine at the unfamiliar feeling, and that was all it took for you to tumble over the edge a second time.
Blinding white pleasure coursed through you as you kept your gaze on Aegon, watching as his mouth became slack, his seed spilling into his closed fist at his tip, cheeks bright red and hair tousled.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Aemond grunted before he reached his peak, hot ropes of his seed painting your walls.
Your head fell back against the books as you all breathed heavily, the smell of sex filling the library, overpowering the smell of parchment. You could feel Aemond’s cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around his length, his head buried in your shoulder, wet kisses being pressed to where he had bitten down on your flesh.
Slowly Aemond pulled back, softly pulling out of you with a whine, before straightening his back to look at you. His lips were swollen and pupil blown out.
You gave him a lazy smile, willing your heart to stop jumping out of your chest. Slowly, he bent his head down to press his lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. You could taste the subtle tang of yourself on his tongue.
It made you feel nauseous knowing that you had an uninvited guest who watched over you.
But this was what you needed.
When you looked back over Aemond’s shoulders, the King was gone.
You had read together by the chaise after, kisses stolen from each other, and glances thrown around the library to see if Aegon was still there watching, hiding amongst the many rows of books and tomes, but he was nowhere to be found.
A small piece of guilt ate at you, but you quickly squashed it.
This was what you needed to do.
When the two of you returned back to your chambers, there was a letter in the centre of your table waiting for you, a red rose placed on top.
A letter from the King.
Inviting you to dine with him and the council that evening.
Aemond in his insecurity, and sudden bout of jealousy ever since Aegon had made his presence more demanding, pulled you onto his lap at the table, exposing your centre and sinking into it with a single thrust.
He fucked you on the chair as you rode atop him, clutching his shoulders for grip as you whined.
“Want my seed to be dripping from your cunt when we dine tonight.”
You tumbled over the edge again for the third time that day.
By the time you went to the Small Dining Hall for dinner, you were exhausted, thoroughly fucked out and body aching. You did not know if you could continue the way the two of you did, every inch of you was sensitive and ached, and all you wanted to do in that moment was sleep.
You kissed Aemond gently before you entered the Hall, and whispered into his ear, “I can feel your seed dripping from my cunt.”
And you could.
Aemond tutted as the doors were opened, “So wasteful with a gift from a Prince.” He whispered, the two of you taking slow steps towards the table as you were announced to the room, “Kessa emagon naejot leghagon ao bē arlī tolī.” Will have to fill you up again later.
You smirked, eyes meeting the King. A blush creeped across your face and you looked down shyly before responding to Aemond.
“Gaomagon ao pendagon kostā jikagon arlī?” Do you think you can go again?
“Lēda ao? Va moriot.” With you? Always.
You sat down side by side, Aemond pulling out your chair for you to sit in and helping to tuck you in after, Aegon’s gaze not leaving yours once, smirk pulling at his pink lips. A familiar face caught your attention at the table.
Lord Jason Lannister.
He was still here.
He sat at the end of the table, Maester Orwyle on one side, Lord Jasper Wylde on the other. His straw blond hair sat brushed and tucked behind his ears, and the red and gold tunic he wore was embroidered with large standing lions.
Jason, catching your gaze, bowed his head to you and smiled.
“How goes the Dragon Pit for Casterly Rock, My Lord?” You inquired from across the table, Aemond humming beside you in irritation.
“I have sent word for some of the finest stonemasons in all the realm. Of course, all would have to wait until a daughter is born.”
“Of course. We should discuss possibilities later.” You smiled, turning away to look back at Aegon as the rest of the table chatted amongst themselves.
When the food was placed upon the table, Alicent said her prayer to the Seven as she always did, and this time, you bowed your head, sliding your eyes to look at Aemond beside you, who’s own was diligently shut.
The table was loud with conversation and eating as the Lords spoke amongst themselves and the King drank from his cups deeply.
Aemond spoke to you quietly in High Valyrian, careful to not rouse the attention of Aegon, "Gaomagon ao drējī pendagon nyke'd ivestragī īlva tala dīnagon zȳhon tresy?” Do you truly think I'd let our daughter marry his son?
“Daor. Yn iksis ziry daor kirimves naejot ūndegon zirȳla pendagon konīr iksis?” No. But is it not fun to see him think there is? You smiled at him cheekily.
Aemond’s lips twitched, “You are a cruel, merciless little thing.”
“Ao jorrāelagon ziry.” You love it.
“Gaoman.” I do.
Jason Lannisters voice moved across the table to Aegon.
“I have heard word from Ser Amos Bracken about some interesting rumours in the North.”
The North?
All attention was on Jason Lannister.
Aegon placed his goblet down on the table, leaning back in his chair to look at the Lord.
“And what are these interesting rumours?” Aegon asked lazily.
Jason’s eyes flitted to you, then back to Aegon as though he was considering not speaking of such things in front of you. But at the King’s prompting hand, Jason began.
“Well for one, House Blackwood still holds the Bracken lands, and has their and the Blacks banners seated atop the Keeps.”
Aegon pouted, pulling his ale back to himself to take a gulping sip.
“And what’s more,” The Lord of Casterly Rock continued, “Is that there has been word of a orange and green dragon sighted flying to and from the North.”
Vermax.
Jacaerys.
“It’s been seen at the Green Fork of the Trident, House Frey’s seat. But of course, Rhaenyra’s son being witnessed to treat with their allies is not an unusual thing. Prince Aemond goes to treat with Houses Swyft, Reyne, Crakehall.” Rivers, “But thats not all of what Ser Amos came to the Golden Tooth to tell me.”
You wished he would get to the point.
Aegon sighed, “Spit it out, Lannister.”
“Rhaenyra has freed the North.”
Laughter rung amongst the table, the Lords looking at one another as they guffawed. Even Aegon laughed loudly, holding up his ale in mock toast before he drained the dregs of his cup, holding it out for a server to come fill it again.
“Freed the North?” Aegon chuckled, “Her largest supporters?”
Lannister beamed at the attention he was getting, his information seemingly delighting the King, “Oh yes, she’s given word to Cregan Stark that she has no wish to rule over free people. Given them their autonomy back.”
Lord Jasper Wylde shook his head, “Princess Rhaenyra-“
“Queen Rhaenyra.” You corrected him stiffly.
Jasper turned to look at you as he continued to speak, “Has undone what only King Aegon the Conqueror could achieve. How many times did Lords and Kings try to claim the North? And how many times did it fail? The only reason why we had the North was because of dragons, and now she has set them free? Whats to say they won’t rebel against us all?”
“Who’s to say that they will?” You argued, “The North has been given no reason to attack the rest of the Kingdoms.” Feeling defensive for your mothers choice you continued, “In fact, I think the Queen’s option to give the North back has bolstered a relationship of peace.” You looked around the table, only to find Aegon smirking at you.
Jason Lannister chuckled pitifully at you, your head snapping to him, “The North was the only thing that gave your mother power.”
“My mother and her many dragons and supporters.” You snipped, “And if my brother is seen to be often flying to treat with the North, then I would say their relationship still stands.”
“She’s given the men a way out.”
“House Stark gave their oath to my mother.”
“I know other Houses that did the same thing.”
“And turncloaks they are.” You snipped, “There has never been a Stark who has broken their oath.”
Jason leant back in his chair and laughed heartily, head tipped back, even Otto Hightower chuckled from the side of Aegon, his tired eyes looking at you with mirth.
“All men can break their oaths.”
“All men are not Starks.”
“Perhaps you should have been wed to to the Stark boy, what’s his name?” Aegon laughed, “Crepan? Credan?”
“Lord Cregan Stark.” You spoke calmly, “And my hand was to be offered to him. But I decided against it.”
Jason Lannisters laugh sounded more like a squawk or a squeal, “And here you are. You could have been up in the North with the mudmen freezing your bits off.”
“The North would not have wanted to be used as a bartering piece in war. What my mother has done was the right thing. The Starks were and are the Kings of the North.”
“Kings of ice and snow.”
“Kings no less.”
"I don’t recognise the Northerners of having Kings.” Aegon smirked.
“And I’m sure others don’t recognise you as theirs. And yet it still stands.”
Aegon clapped his hands loudly and beamed at you, teeth showing as he grinned.
“Tell me brother, you’re well read on the history and politics of the realm. You’ve always had that nose of yours stuck in books. What do you think of this all? Do you think our sister made the right choice?”
The chambers were quiet as all waited for Aemond’s response. Alicent had her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her face as she tried to sneakily and unnoticeably bite at her nails in habit. Otto looked genuinely interested in what Aemond had to say, but Aegon was clearly up to no good.
The Prince pursed his lips, tongue in his cheek as he thought, watching his brother.
“We don’t know what freeing the North means for the rest of us.” He began and you felt your heart sink, “It’s true that Aegon the First was the only one to have ever conquered the North. Their lands are stretching, Houses and alliances ancient and new, not to mention, the North is a most inhospitable land to live in, let alone wage and win a war against.”
You breathed heavily in your nose, teeth grinding together, your hands in tight fists in your lap.
If Aegon had freed the North all would have applauded him for his bravery. But all laughed and mocked your mother because she was a woman.
“As for freeing the North?” Aemond’s voice became louder, “I think it was the smartest move Rhaenyra could have made.”
Your head snapped to your husband, staring at him in disbelief.
Had he just agreed with you?
Aegon scoffed, eyebrows high on his face. Jason Lannister and Jasper Wylde laughed softly and shook their heads.
“If we know anything about the North and their people, we know that they do not recognise the rest of the Kingdom’s unless forced to. The North bent the knee to Aegon the First, and who is to say they would continue to listen to another foreign ruler from the South? Would you bend the knee to a monarch who you knew naught about? Who you had no similarities to, besides being men? What Rhaenyra has done, is bolster trust and respect. And I daresay that is more powerful than ruling with fear."
Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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Breaking Down the I Feel You Linger in the Air Finale
Okay pals, I got some sleep and I'm ready to dig into this finale and all its beautiful messiness. I love this show and I'm frankly a little frustrated that we got such an incomplete resolution to the (hopefully) first season when there was ample time to do it right. As ever, pacing and time and information management continue to be major weaknesses for Tee Bundit. As I said last week, the writing for this show has been undeniably messy but it's still holding together on the strength of the production and the performances and the success of some of its big themes and character arcs; that take held firm through the finale and some of the baffling choices made about where to spend our time in this final installment. So, let's dig into it!
The Long Goodbye
I'll say upfront that this is my biggest beef with the pacing of the finale. We spent all of last week on a long and painful goodbye for Yai and Jom, perfectly executed, but for some reason we did another 45 minutes of it this week, not so perfectly executed. While I loved the covering of the mirrors, the saddest sex scene ever (complete with sex moans running as the audio over a memory montage how dare you show!), and the pain of Yai realizing he drew the final picture and watching Jom disappear, we didn't need to retread them saying goodbye to each other over and over again for two entire hours of story time, and we didn't need a long, sappy, on the nose speech from Jom saying things we already knew. As I told @neuroticbookworm, this might be my aro showing but I found the series of repetitive emotional goodbye conversations and memory montages exhausting and not in a good way. If I were the script doctor, I would have kept the mirrors, sad sex, and Yai drawing as the start of the episode and cut the rest, moving much more quickly into the next phase of the story.
Back to the Future
Jom returning to his present day life, trying to cope with his anguish and loneliness and adjust back into things, and further investigating the time travel mystery to figure out a way to reconnect with Yai should have been the main narrative of this episode. Instead, we got a truncated version of it that didn't have time to breath because we'd used up so much time on the above mentioned retread. For my money, Jom's devastation upon finding Yai's letter to him was the most emotionally resonant moment of the finale and the first part of the episode where I almost cried. But we had barely sunk into that feeling before it was abruptly cut short because we were out of time and Tee needed to wrap this baby up.
Eyebrow Scar Yai
Here’s where I get actually kind of peeved, because this final (pre-credits) scene was so poorly set up and executed that to even call it a resolution is a stretch. A modern version of Yai walks into the room, asks Jom why he's crying, tells him he's been waiting for him, kisses him, and then the credits roll!
Now I've been in the tags so I know this caused confusion for anyone who has not read the novel (me too, fam!). And that's because the show had not bothered to establish:
That Yai does in fact have a modern doppelgänger
Who the heck that doppelgänger is and how he’s connected to 1928 Yai
How that doppelgänger would be able to remember Jom when no other doppelgängers in the story can remember their past lives
Based on what we know, could we piece together a reasonable theory about who this man is, how he got there, and the final pieces of the mythology that make sense of it? Sure. In fact, bookworm and I pretty much guessed exactly what the explanation for this was after watching the show, and many of the elements at play here were theorized in conversations we had last week. Book readers like @tipsyjaehyun have now confirmed the full explanation for anyone who cares to go read it.
But the show did not tell us any of this information. If you have to read the novel or have novel readers spoil you on aspects of the story that the show didn't bother to cover in order to understand the ending of the story, the execution has failed. And given the pacing notes above, there is really no reason we couldn't have gotten a better set up for this ending with Eyebrow Scar Yai (yes I know his name but no I'm not using it because the show didn't bother telling me; I am petty like that). Jom could have found this descendant during his time of processing and the ending could have hinged on us realizing this modern Yai is a reincarnation who has his past life memories intact; had we gone into a final kiss between them feeling grounded in all of that knowledge, it would have landed so much better.
Hello Commander
And now on to the post-credits scene, where Tee puts a plea into the universe to give him a second season so he can play around in another time period and explore what is evidently the origin of this soul tie between Jom and Yai. I chose to read this episode tag as separate from the actual season 1 narrative, and I think that was the intention given its placement. If they secure funding for a second season, this tag scene becomes the beginning of that next story, with Eyebrow Scar Yai's kiss sending Jom into another time travel adventure. If they don't we can just ignore it and pretend the pre-credits scene was the end (which is why I'm not happy it was so poorly done). I, for one, would love to see a second season to explore another time period and give Tee a chance to clean up some of this mess he has made of the mythology and season 1 resolution. Shouts to @clairedaring for reporting back from the live showing of the finale on what the possibilities are looking like there. Fingers crossed we get a continuation of this story some day!
Tagging in @waitmyturtles and @twig-tea who also have linked posts above. And shouts to @blmpff @cankersoregirl @pharawee @wanderlust-in-my-soul @italianpersonwithashippersheart @bengiyo @dragonsareawesome123 @wen-kexing-apologist @junghaesin @stuffnonsenseandotherthings @slayerkitty @respectthepetty @chickenstrangers @sunshinechay @btwinlines for posting about this show every week and making it such a fun watch despite having a small audience on here. It was a pleasure watching this with you all!
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