#lens ball photography | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threelionsgirl · 3 months

Note

Hey can you write one where the reader has a crush on Mason, but he says he only sees her as a friend, and that he has a crush on the reader's friend. But after y/n moves away from him, he realizes that he was always in love with her too. Please, with a happy ending!!!!

confessing love | mason mount

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst maybe? word count: 3767 notes: I LOVED THIS ONE!! remembering that english is not my first language, this has not been revised!!! i hope you like it :) masterlist | requests are open!

Y/N's camera lens traveled around the pitch during Manchester United's training sessions. And she loved her work as a visual media creator for the club's social networks. Combining her passion for football with her passion for photography was perfect. She was living a long-planned dream. Y/N was trying to get the best angles of the training session led by coach Ten Hag. She laughed a little when she saw Rashford and Casemiro play with the ball through the camera lens. He captured good moments of the two of them until she looked for her next target. That's when her lens passed Mason Mount. Y/N always liked to take pictures of Mason last because when her camera found him, it was hard to take the focus off him. She followed him all over the pitch, looking at him through her hyperfocus lens and taking more photos of him than of any other player. Of course, she knew it was a bit unprofessional, but no one needed to know, since she was the only one operating that camera and on the website and social media, all the players received the same publicity. The ones that remained, she kept in her personal collection.

Mason was running around the pitch, until he received a ball from Shaw, which he took on his chest and sent into the back of the net. Y/N made a point of capturing every moment as he celebrated by smiling, messing with his hair in a cute way and every bit of how his body reacted and the expressions on his face. Until he looked directly at her and realized that the camera was pointing at him. Mason began to make faces that made Y/N laugh as she recorded everything, without missing a beat. The truth was that Y/N was very friendly with all the players, they were nice and good company for going out and doing something fun, and nothing was more than friendship, but she had to admit that she had developed a special bond with Mason. She knew that with him, she didn't just want friendship, it was much more than that. But she felt too cowardly to admit it to him. He came running towards her, and she lowered the camera, finally taking the focus off him. She didn't need a camera to observe Mason Mount when she had him so close. "Too much work today, Y/N?"

"I'm always very busy, Mase." Y/N wiping the camera lens. Ever since she'd discovered her crush on Mason, she'd been a bit awkward around him because she found it hard to look at him and talk to him without looking like a lovesick idiot. A shiver ran through her body when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed with his other hand. "You need a break to relax, you work too much." Y/N was going to ask him what his ideas were for her to relax, but she wasn't so bold. "Today is Maya's birthday." Maya worked in PR at United and was one of her best friends at the club. Working with her was amazing. They always went out together whenever they could. "Oh, I know, she invited me." Mason smiled in a different way, which made a thousand butterflies fly around in Y/N's stomach. "So, I'll see you tonight, right?" She hugged the camera, too nervous to answer and stuttering Y/N just shook her head up and down. Mason left a kiss on her cheek and pulled away when Ten Hag called out to him. Y/N stood there watching Mason walk away for God knows how long, that kiss on the cheek was capable of melting her entire system. She was so caught up that she didn't even notice when Marcus approached.

She could say that Marcus was one of her best friends. He was the first person she had been close to since she started working at the club. She felt she could count on him for anything. "When are you going to tell him?" "What a fright, Rash!" She looked at him unconcerned. "You need to stop this!" "And you need to stop running away from my questions, Y/N." "I don't know what you're talking about…" "Come on, you don't lie to me. You've got a thing for Mase." They both watched Mason from afar. She looked at her friend and rolled her eyes. "How do you know that?" "I know you, honey." He laughed, pinching her nose. "Do you think I don't notice how you spend hours and hours stalking him with that camera?" "Yeah, I have a crush on him, so what?" "So you're really going to leave without exposing your feelings?" Marcus raised an eyebrow and Y/N bit her lip. A few weeks ago, she had received an offer to become a Real Madrid staffer. Moving to Spain wasn't in her plans, but the offer was too good to turn down. Her photos had been successful, and she was getting recognized for her talent, but she still didn't know if she would actually accept. She loved Manchester, she loved United, and she loved the players with whom she was already familiar. To change would be to leave that behind. Leaving Mason behind.

"I haven't decided yet. It's a good opportunity, of course, but…" "I bet having Mason would make you say no to the proposal." "Rash, you don't know what you're talking about." "I'm just suggesting it. I'm going to miss you, and I'd rather you didn't go, but I understand, and I'm advising you, if you go, go without this weight on your back." Rashford winked at her and turned back to the pitch. Y/N took one last look at the two of them before heading to the administration building, she needed to edit those photos and publish them. She knew she had a big decision to make, wondering if her friend Marcus was right. Would Mason be a good reason to make her stay in England?

Later, Y/N was at home getting ready for Maya's party when she received a message from Mason:

mase: do u want me to come and pick u up?

The truth was that Y/N didn't need a ride, but Mason's invitation was impossible to refuse. The minutes she spent in his car in the passenger seat, watching his profile drive through the streets of Manchester, were almost magical. So she quickly replied that yes, she wanted his ride. What she really meant was that she wanted his company at every moment of her life. She finished getting ready in an hour, which was about the time Mason pulled up in front of her house. In the car he seemed very excited about Maya's birthday party and for some reason that was giving Y/N confidence. Maybe Marcus was right, and she should get those feelings out soon before they suffocated her. Maya's birthday was taking place in a fancy hotel and Y/N was enjoying it with her friends, her Manchester United friends and, of course, Mason. He was great company at parties, always daring her to knock back shots of booze or asking her to dance. On the one hand, Y/N loved him, but on the other she felt sad. Every touch he made on her waist or anywhere on her body sent shivers down her spine, and when he looked at her smiling and fiddled with her hair without taking his eyes off her?

She couldn't resist. But the worst part was seeing other girls flirting with Mason when he was with her, and not being able to do anything about it, since Mase wasn't someone she could call her own. So she decided to hide in the bathroom for a while. What was supposed to be five minutes turned into almost thirty, and she decided to go out and look for Marcus. She needed her friend more than anything at that moment, but instead of finding him, she bumped into Mason, who looked five times more altered than the last time she'd seen him. "Mase?" "Y/N! You're gooone!" He said in that slurred, shuffling voice. "What happened to you, Mase? I leave you for a few minutes, and you decide to drink the whole bar?" He moved his mouth laughingly, and she supported him with her shoulders, helping him to walk. Mason in that state meant it was time to go home. She knew the friend she had. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your house." "I'm usually the one who takes the girls there." "Funny." She laughed and pulled him away. They arrived in the parking lot and Y/N guided Mason to where he had parked his thousand-euro car. "The key." She held out her hand, and Mason slipped his hand into the front pocket of his pants without complaint and handed it to her. He wouldn't let just anyone drive his car, but in that state he either obeyed Y/N or he obeyed Y/N. "There. Here we are. You can get to your room on your own, can't you?" she said from outside, in front of Mason's door, who didn't look very well, but well enough to get into his own house. He looked at her worriedly. "How are you going home?" "I'll manage, Mase. I can order an Uber." She shrugged, wanting to get out of there. "Not at all. You can sleep here. I'll drop you home in the morning." He suggested, taking her by the hand and leading her into his house, but Y/N didn't move, letting go of her hand. Mason seemed somewhat loving, but she needed to remind herself that whatever he was doing at that moment, he wasn't in his most sober state. Alcohol could easily manipulate his actions, and she didn't know what was real. "I'm not sleeping at your place."

"Why not?" He frowned at the refusal. Normally, Y/N never said no to him. "You've slept here before." "There were other people along." She said quietly. It was those parties that got a bit out of hand and went on until late, and everyone thought it was safer to spend the night than to drive drunk. "And what's wrong with not having other people?" He asked, moving closer. So close that Y/N could have sworn she felt something in her body fail. It could have been her heartbeat or her breathing. She gave a half-smile, refusing to answer that question. There were all the problems in the world spending the night with a guy she couldn't call her own. It was too much of a disservice to her poor heart. "You look strange." He pointed out, looking right into her eyes. "You were weird the whole party." "I wasn't."

"I know you, Y/N. Yes, you were." Mason took another step forward, holding one of her shoulders. "You don't want to tell me why?" Y/N analyzed for a few seconds, hating that moment. She knew Mason wouldn't stop until he got an answer out of her and that's when she thought of the response she'd gotten from Rashford that morning. So she took a deep breath, making one of the two decisions she needed to make at that point in her life. "This is going to sound really stupid…" "You can tell me anything." "Look…" She looked away, but Mason held her face and his touch felt so good, it brought the best feeling in the world to her heart. "I'll say it straight away, okay?" He warned and Mason nodded, interested. Y/N took one last breath and quickly poured the words over him. "I like you, that's all. I know we're friends and that I shouldn't like you, but I do and I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I like you. Holy shit! I didn't want to like you, but I do, so what am I going to do? Hell! It's not my fault, I'm not in charge of my heart. Mase, I can't be around you without my heart leaping three hundred times and I need to know what you're thinking right now!"

Mason blinked, a little stunned by the revelation, and felt something bad inside him. The alcohol in his brain wasn't letting him think straight. "Shit…" He muttered softly, letting go of her shoulder. "Y/N…" "What?" she asked, bracing herself for what was perhaps the worst thing she could hear.

"You know I think you're amazing, right? I like you a lot Y/N you, but not like that…" He concluded and the sentence almost made Y/N's world come crashing down. That was definitely not happening. She felt pathetic. "I was actually interested in Maya…" Mason swallowed before saying it and that was the end of the world for Y/N. She could deal with unrequited love, but a relationship between Mason and her best friend? It was too much for her. "Oh my God…" She took a step back, wanting to get out of there and holding back any tears that might fall. "Mason." She whispered and he continued talking as if that wasn't the worst thing he was doing. "I'm really sorry." Y/N couldn't look them in the eye, the street seemed less painful. "We can still be friends after that, right? Nothing have to change…"

She suddenly looked at him, hurt. How could he ask her that after saying he liked her best friend? "I-I…" She stammered. "I don't know if I can go through with this until I'm sure I've gotten rid of all my feelings for you. Bye, Mason." Y/N turned her back on him and walked away as fast as she could. She couldn't do that. Walking away was the best option, until she no longer felt anything, until she saw Mason Mount as just a friend. The problem was that for Y/N it could last a lifetime.

A few days later…

Mason felt strange, he could even say a little unhappy. An unbearable emptiness. Ever since Y/N had left him, he hadn't seen her for a few days. What was that withdrawal? He couldn't even say. He even thought about asking Maya, but he felt like such an idiot after that conversation. He really had an interest in the girl, but after what had happened with Y/N, Mason didn't care, he just wanted to get that feeling out of him. Because his current condition was: he missed a girl with whom he was hopelessly in love. Like almost all of his clubmates, he was always asked what was going on between him and Y/N. Mason always denied any love interest. But it wasn't possible! Could it be that only they didn't see what everyone else saw? Or at least, only he didn't see? Maybe what he felt for Maya was just physical attraction and the person he really liked was Y/N. It had been so long since he had liked anyone and when this person appeared, Mason was terrified.

She was the one who greeted him at the CT with a smile every day and made him laugh with the photos she took of him while he was distracted. It was fun how she would blackmail him with those photos to ask for favors like buying her a milk shake or autographing his shirts. Even though Mason never said no to her, he loved their dynamic. He also liked having her at all his games, cheering him on and giving him a big hug when the game was over. Shit, Mason wanted that back. He wanted Y/N back in his life, he understood her pulling away, but he wasn't going to let it continue.

"Rash, do you know where Y/N is?" He asked Marcus as soon as training was over. "Y/N? She's resigned, Mase." Marcus replied a little sadly, but it had been Y/N's decision and he would respect it. Mason, on the other hand, looked shocked. "What do you mean?" "She received an offer from Real Madrid. Yesterday was her last day. She must be on her way to Madrid…" Marcus looked at his watch on his cell phone. He had managed to say goodbye to Y/N the day before. "Right now." "You can't be serious." "Serious. We've lost the best photographer in the world to a Spanish team." He felt a little guilty. "Do you think…"

"If she went to stay away from you?" Marcus concluded, holding Mason's shoulder. "Don't think too much of yourself, the proposal was very good, but yeah, I think what you said to her may have influenced your final decision." "Damn. I was such an idiot." "Yes, you were." "Do you think I can reverse it?" "If you want to, you can, but please, man, try not to hurt my friend anymore." That hurt, but Mason nodded and understood that it was up to him. Marcus gave him some details, but told him that it might be too late. Y/N was leaving for Madrid at that moment and Mason might have to wait a little longer. Mason found himself defeated for only a few minutes before he realized that if he really wanted her forgiveness, he would have to want it badly and to show it he would have to start right then and there. He left CT like a hurricane in his car and drove as fast as he could to the airport. He wore a hood over his head to avoid being recognized, it would slow him down too much. He looked at the screen and boarding for the next flight to Madrid had already started and Y/N was probably already in the departure lounge. He went to the nearest counter and bought the first ticket he saw. At the counter, while waiting to pay, he thought he was acting out a scene from the clichéd movies Y/N liked, but he couldn't have cared less. Y/N was worth it and if he hadn't been such an idiot, none of this would have been necessary. After passing through the boarding gate, Mason looked as quickly as possible for the flight gate, when he found it he saw the queue forming and Y/N was currently first in line, handing over her documents before getting on the plane.

"Y/N." He shouted so loudly that not only Y/N but most of the people present looked in his direction. She felt someone taking her headphones off and when she looked back she was surprised. "Mason?" The girl went static when she saw him. He came closer and she took the document back and walked over to him. It hurt so much to see him again, but she was curious and a little surprised. "What are you doing here?" "I'm asking you. I can't believe you'd leave without saying goodbye to me." She looked at him a little guiltily. "Besides, you forgot something of yours with me." "What?" "Me." He said quietly, holding her face. At that point, Y/N's brain was going haywire, as if she couldn't imagine that Mason Mount would come to the airport after her to propose. "Answer me this, why did you say that day that you didn't want to like me?" She swallowed. "Why… Because I knew you wouldn't like me back and that would ruin our friendship, like it did." "And how did you know that was true?" Mason arched an eyebrow and Y/N looked around for something to get her out of that situation.

"Well, you told me yourself." "I lied." Mason shrugged his shoulders feeling bad, even worse with the face Y/N was making. "Oh, you lied? Lied that you were interested in my best friend? What did you want with that? To make me feel bad?" Y/N took a deep breath because at that moment she was starting to get angry. "That hurt me so much, you have no idea, and now you come here after me thinking I'm going to be with you whenever you want, Mason?" She finished saying it and took a step back, at which point Mason realized that things were getting very bad for him. He approached her holding her hands, willing to make things right with Y/N. "I'm not proud of it, it's just that I was a bit terrified Y/N. I haven't liked anyone like that for a long time and I loved our friendship, but I didn't even know how much I liked you." He confessed and Y/N had to admit that it shook something inside her. "I found myself smiling for no reason until I realized that I was thinking of you. And that I couldn't waste another day of my life without you. Please give me another chance!" Y/N hesitated. This was difficult because on the one hand she was very hurt, but on the other, the fact that Mason Mount had come up to her in an airport and declared himself like that was all she had ever wanted.

"But what about Maya?" "I have nothing to do with Maya, I never have, and I don't want to. Please understand that." Y/N hesitated for a moment, looking at Mason for sincerity. She sighed, allowing herself to consider the possibility of a second chance. "Mason, it's not easy to forget what happened, but…" She looked into his eyes. "If you've really changed, if you're willing to be honest this time, then maybe we can try again." Mason let out a relieved sigh, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise, Y/N, no lies. I want to be more than a friend to you, I want to be someone you can trust." Y/N smiled, giving in to the moment. "All right, Mason. Let's start again, but this time, no secrets. Bring out your true feelings from the start." Mason agreed, determined to make things right. "I'd like that. And I promise I'll make up for any hurt I've caused." The two hugged, deciding to put the past behind them. "So, what's the next step?" Y/N asked, trying to keep things light. Mason smiled. "A date, maybe? Something simple, just to get us started."

Y/N laughed. "That sounds good. But this time, no made-up love triangles, right?" Mason laughed along with her. "Absolutely. Just the two of us, no complications, but…." "What?" "Let me kiss you now? I didn't want to wait until the date." Y/N laughed along with him, letting herself go and kissing Mason as she had always dreamed. And so, with laughter and a promise of honesty, Mason and Y/N took the first step towards a new beginning, redefining not just their friendship, but building something more meaningful and true.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount angst #mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #football fanfic #football fluff #football angst #football imagines #football one shot #my writing: mason mount

289 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 7 months

Text

When the End Comes | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: fear of getting stood up, alcohol, pet names, curses, Jungkook's scars, angst, stubborn Jungkook, pessimism, depressive episode, cliffhanger at the end I'm sorry, explicit content: jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), Jungkook taking pictures of them during (I apologize, I have sinned), balls sucking/fondling, pain kink (Jungkook), deep throating, mouth fucking, unprotected sex, hickey, clit play, degradation, fingering, cum play (ish?)

☆word count: 14.3k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: Rereading each chapter to edit is a challenge bc I just be sobbing the whole time :') I hope you enjoy this one, though it does really hurt oop

☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, September 8th

You clutch the gift bag in your hand. It feels strange to be meeting Jungkook again, after last weekend. And even after last weekend, you’re not sure where you’re standing.

Did he spend his whole week thinking about you the way that you were thinking about him?

You texted a little, over the week. Each time a notification from him popped up on your phone, you felt like you’d gone back in time. Like maybe, maybe you took a time machine to a past of better days last weekend. It’s bittersweet in a way, because you feel like there is still so much left unsaid between you and him.

But he’s willing to try. Even if you broke him, even if you’ve been wondering if there’s anything salvageable after all, he’s willing to try. Willing to meet you at a Korean barbecue restaurant halfway between his place and yours.

You check the time, anxiety flooding your veins. He’s running late, though he texted you to tell you he was almost there. A part of you wonders if he’s going to stand you up – you think you’d deserve it. Because you’re not sure you deserve this chance, yet you don’t want to lose it, don’t want to let it go.

You look down at the bag. You bought the gift on a whim this week, and you have no idea if he’ll still want it. It’s a lens he was looking to buy months ago, before he left for Paris, and there’s a high chance that he’ll have bought it for himself since then…

You just couldn’t think about anything other than that to gift him. Even though his work was your demise, you know Jungkook loves photography. Always will, no matter where you two will end up. And since it was his birthday last weekend – before you’d reconnected – you thought why not? Why not get a gift and show him that you still care, that you remember?

Because you’d never forget, when it comes to him. You think, if you had dementia, he’d be the last thing you’d lose, if at all.

You worry at your lip, glancing around. Luckily enough for you, there is a bench outside of the restaurant, though you can only sit on a corner of it as the rest is still wet from the rain earlier. It was raining when you left work, but it fortunately stopped as you were getting ready for the date.

You sigh, looking down at your phone again. Twenty minutes late seems like a long time, considering that Jungkook’s not one to be late usually. A sense of dread takes ahold of your heart, and you already feel tears forming in your eyes.

You were foolish, stupid. Idiotic, if you thought there was a way things could be set right.

You get up, looking towards the door of the restaurant. A couple are waiting in the hall, arms around each other as they hug with not a care in the world. It aches deeply, makes you crave the physical intimacy last Saturday held and you gulp as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

Still you stay rooted in your spot. There’s a light tremor that starts taking a hold of you, and you regret not putting a jacket on even though it isn’t remotely freezing today. Your eyes fall to the gift bag, and you think about May. About the moment you’d let him go – has he gotten too far for you to reach him now?

A tear wins. Or perhaps it’s the gravity, growing ten times stronger as your heart breaks again. As the hope gets lost to you, replaced by that same deep sorrow you’ve become accustomed to. You sigh, the breath of air trembling on the way out.

And then you almost let out a scream as someone touches your arm.

Jungkook startles just as much as you, taking a step back, his big, doe eyes widening even more as he meets your gaze. Your mouth remains open, yet no words come out. You just take him in, take his appearance in – his piercings, the beanie he’s wearing, his flushed cheeks. He looks like he was running, and you think maybe he was.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you.

At that your eyes drop to the bright pink bouquet of flowers he’s holding, and something inside of you heals, as if you’ve found a cure to the disease.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out. You meet his gaze again. “You didn’t have to.”

He pulls at his piercings, shrugging sheepishly. “I wanted to.”

It’s warm. Whatever is blossoming in your chest is warm, a stark contrast to the winter you’ve been stuck in since the night you lost him.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and you blink away the tears in your eyes.

You freeze when he wipes the one that’s already rolled on your cheek, frowning slightly at the sight.

“The florist I wanted to go to first was closed,” he says as an explanation. “I had to run around to find another one.”

You offer him a small smile, and his features immediately smooth out into a soft expression too.

“I was scared you were…” you trail off, wetting your lips as you refuse to voice your fear.

Refuse to admit you didn’t have faith in him.

“I thought you would,” he answers carefully. “Hence why I ran.”

You nod. “I…” You look down at the gift bag, holding it up. “I got you a birthday gift.”

His smile is teary when you look at it next, and you take a moment to delve into the depths of his gaze. There’s a small twinkle there, though it is faint, barely even noticeable. If you didn’t know him like the sun knows the moon, you wouldn’t recognize it.

He’s hopeful. It’s strange – there was no hope in Jungkook’s gaze last weekend. Or there had been, for a fraction of a moment, until it had been blown away by the wind. You can only hope that this time it will hold on strong.

“You didn’t have to,” he says, though the curve of his pink lips tells you he appreciates the thought.

He grabs the gift bag, not looking through it right away. Instead, he hands you the flowers, and you delicately take them, bringing them close to your nose so that you can inhale the fragrance. Your eyelids flutter shut, and a content smile moves on your lips.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you meet his gaze again. “And…” You motion towards the gift. “You deserved it. I think you’ll like it.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, as Jungkook looks down at the bag. He offers you a tight-lipped smile, and you cock an eyebrow.

“What?” he lets out.

“Aren’t you going to…” you vaguely answer. “Open it?”

“Oh, now?” He chuckles awkwardly, glancing around before pointing towards the restaurant. “Shouldn’t we go in to give our names?”

He’s got a point. Especially considering that it’s a Friday evening. So you do just that, giving your phone number to the hostess as she tells you there will be a thirty minutes wait. You and Jungkook move back outside after that, and he guides you towards his car, a few streets down.

“How was work this week?” he asks on the way.

“Better,” you admit, remembering how you’d told him that you didn’t like the new department in which you worked.

And it’s true – it has been better. Maybe because the excitement of receiving texts from him through the days made it easier to handle. Or maybe it’s because you haven’t been so damned cold since last weekend. All in all, work has been easier, even if it isn’t as interesting as it used to be.

“I’m glad,” he says, offering you a smile.

Silence surrounds the two of you, only interrupted by a car honking in the street. You startle a little, and Jungkook chuckles.

You’re struck. His chuckles have healing properties, you’re convinced of it. They spark hope into you, so bright you think you’ll be blinded, retina forever burned. Yet your eyes don’t lose focus on him, even as his lips return to a neutral expression.

“What about you?” you ask as your heart picks up in your chest. “What were you up to this week?”

A small crease appears between his brows, but it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it. “I’ve been going to the gym,” he answers. “And looking around for some jobs.”

His last sentence turns the hope into a firework show inside of you. “Yeah? Any luck so far?”

You reach his car, and as he always does, he opens the door for you. You blush, something you haven’t really done with Jungkook in forever, and you’re struck thinking that this feels new.

Perhaps this will be a new chapter in your relationship with Jeon Jungkook after all.

“Thank you,” you mutter as your cheeks burn. You sit in, and he closes the door before moving around the car to get in. You watch him do so, and he sits next to you, turning the car on just long enough so that you can roll the windows down.

“Now,” he lets out, eyeing the bag. “What’s this?”

For some reason, it makes you chuckle, and he shoots you a dumb smile that makes you think you’ve delved right into the heat of summer, warmth spreading through you. It erases the winter, replaces it with blooming flowers and bright sun rays, golden sunsets and the feeling of a soft breeze threading through your hair.

Needless to say, you want to cling to it before winter comes again.

“Open and you’ll see,” you answer, your heart racing as you glance at the bag, before going back to his smile.

He nods, and he opens the bag, taking out the paper first. Your heartbeat increases tenfold because, what if he doesn’t like it?

What if he takes it as an affront that you’ve given him something photography related?

But then he sees it. Sees the lens you bought for him, and his features turn somber, but not in a bad way. They settle into a calm expression, with a softer smile that barely even tugs at the corners of his lips. He takes a deep breath, and then looks towards you again.

Teary eyes find yours, and you think maybe this is it. Maybe this is where the end will find you. Lost in the swirling depth of his gaze, in the forgotten space of you and him.

He whispers your name, emotion making it heavier than the whole world. You nod once, as no sentences take shape in your mind to reply to him. You’re not sure you have to say something – he sees in your eyes the emotions you can’t quite voice.

“You really didn’t have to,” he adds, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. “Fuck.”

He looks down at the lens, takes it out of the bag so that he can examine it thoroughly. You observe him as he does so, as if you’re watching a show. And you think, maybe he is a show – a movie meant for you to admire on and on until you go old and blindness seeps into your gaze.

“I wanted to,” you reply.

He shoots you a quick look, just as teary as the initial one. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

And then he laughs, a small vulnerable laugh that has you blinking back the wetness building up on your waterline. You echo it with one of yours, though it comes unexpectedly to you. But then again, you reckon you share the same feelings.

You always have, haven’t you? Your soul is in sync with his, has always been, no matter if distance put an end to the story of you and him. Or tried to, because he’s here today.

So are you, and if he allows it, you’ll never leave again.

“I’ve wanted this lens in forever,” he says, voice small as he turns it in his hands, looking at it in every possible angle. “You…” he trails off, meets your gaze and smiles again. “You remembered.”

You nod. “How could I forget?” You worry at your lips, shy away from his gaze to watch your wriggling fingers in your lap. “There isn’t a day I didn’t think of you.”

The revelation seems out of place, in a parked car on the side of a busy street. Yet it comes naturally to you, and meets him just as naturally. Because he nods, and then reaches for you. Grabs your jaw, gently, so that he can turn your head towards him. There’s a moment when you think the whole world holds his breath, and then he leans forward, brushes a soft kiss on your lips.

“I missed you,” he admits as he pulls away, letting go of your jaw reluctantly.

A tear slips on your cheek, and you quickly dry it. “I missed you too.”

And though the moment is heavy with emotion, you don’t want to run away from it. When you were younger, you would have fled like a deer hearing a branch crack in the woods. But today, today you want the weight of this emotion to rest upon you, like a weighted blanket that reminds you you’re alive.

The emotion lingers, past this moment and into the next. As you get the text that a table is ready for you and him, and you move back to the Korean restaurant. As you sit in front of him, watch him smile and laugh in time with you at the stupid jokes that you make.

You and him make more sense than you realized. Or maybe you forgot. Maybe the distance made you forget, but right now you think you know he’ll always be the one. And if you lose him again, he’ll be the one that got away, and you’ll search for him through every connection with temporary people.

Because there can’t be permanent people after him. He’s permanently inked into your heart, carved into your bones.

“How has your family been?” he asks when there’s a lull in the conversation.

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, though you know he means your father, Isabel and Louis.

You know he’d never talk about your mother as part of your family.

“They’ve been great,” you answer. “Dad’s been looking to retire, or at least to have a lesser charge at work.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, but says nothing as he puts some meat on the grill between you and him. You observe him as he does so, wincing when flames erupt and he pulls his hand away – quickly enough, thankfully.

“How old is he again?” Jungkook asks after that, meeting your gaze again.

“Fifty-nine,” you reply. “But I don’t think it’s about his age. He just wants to spend more time with Louis.”

The softness that takes over his doe eyes makes you want to curl up in him, against him. Makes you want to listen to his beating heart until the day that it ceases, decades away from now. It’s a strong feeling, and you’re forced to blink away tears again.

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook gently says, and he reaches to pat your cheek.

It makes you laugh. Of course it does, and he offers you a dumb smile again. For the first time that night, you notice that yes, it does reach his eyes. The smile lights up his gaze, though there’s wariness, etched in the lines of his face.

It’s not that you missed it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it. But right in this instant, it’s all you can see, and it makes his smile fall until his eyes follow, moving to the grill. He turns the meat as you busy yourself with eating japchae.

And you don’t like this silence. You don’t like the ache that it carries, so you force yourself to try. To try and fight for him and prove that, after everything, he really is where the end will be, when it comes for you.

“What about your family?” you ask, throwing him a lifeline in the storm you’re sure he’s been plagued with too.

“They’ve been great,” he answers. “My brother’s wife is pregnant again.”

For a moment you forget about the torment between you and him as your mind zeroes in on the fact. “That’s amazing!” you let out, and your smile comes easily. “They must be so happy.”

Jungkook looks at your smile, taking a deep breath. It seems he takes a decision then, because his lips curve up, and some of the wariness fades away. He looks softer like this, younger, and your heart shines under his light.

“It really is,” he says. “I was thinking on going to Korea to see the baby when Yuri gives birth.”

In another world, you would have said you’ll go with him, but right now you don’t think you can. So, instead, you reply, “That’s a good idea. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”

He nods, and then he puts some meat in your bowl, taking the two other stripes for himself. You mindlessly pick one of the pieces up, mixing it in ssamjang before eating it. You wince as you burn your tongue a little, and quickly eat the meat so that you can take a long gulp of water.

Jungkook must have expected you to burn yourself, because he laughs at your expense as he refills your glass. “You good?”

You nod. “Sorry, just burned myself.”

“Don’t apologize.”

So you don’t. For the rest of the evening, you try not to apologize. And you think you succeed – you both speak as if distance wasn’t a thing between you. As if time hasn’t come to pass between you too – as if you’ve never been apart. As if, seven years ago, the stars told the truth as they sparkled in the July night sky.

You finish eating while chatting like this, while sharing thoughts about movies you’ve seen. As he tells you about working out, about Bam and the songs he’s been listening to. He drinks a beer as you speak, and you once again take a moment to admire him.

You’d never admit it, but the beanie makes him look good. Comfortable and soft – as does the jean jacket, you reckon. But then again you know Jungkook would look good in anything, one of the advantages of him being gifted with pretty privilege.

And when he clinks his glass with yours, claiming you have to finish drinking even though you’ve only been drinking water, you still laugh with him, still down your glass as he chugs the beer. And you wonder, how long will it take to erase the distance?

Will it take more than this moment in time, to undo the distance and rebuild the closeness?

And you think, maybe it just needs now. Because as you walk out, bellies full and minds buzzing with a slight tinge of alcohol, you accept Jungkook’s extended hand. You let him guide you to his car, even though yours is parked on the other side of the restaurant. He opens the door for you again, but you hesitate for a moment.

Long enough to step closer to him instead, and pull him down so you can peck his lips. He looks surprised, and his features fall serious as you share a long look.

“Can I come over tonight?” you whisper.

He nods. “I thought it was a given.”

Of course he would. And you’re not even mad that he would. You’re rather relieved, and you can’t help yourself. You can’t help pulling him down in a more heated kiss, even though you hate public displays of affection. There are just words your lips can’t say any other way than this, and he gets it. He’ll always get you. He always will, and he kisses you with the same intensity, one hand cupping your cheek gently while the other presses on the small of your back, resting flat as he pulls you in. You hold his delicate waist, sighing in the kiss as your thumbs draw idle lines on his sides.

Jungkook pulls away to press a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a small eternity that leads to you wrapping your arms around his waist. He lets you do it, and you wonder if his soul has found yours. You hope it has, for there are things your soul can say even better than your mouth can.

Apologies don’t mean much when they are shaped in words. But you think your soul could show him, and maybe, maybe tonight he’ll allow you to show him.

“Are you parked somewhere you can leave your car overnight?” he asks softly, lips moving against your forehead.

You nod. “I am.”

“Then let’s go home.”

*****

It comes as a surprise, when you realize Jungkook has moved in the same building as Kiko and Yoongi. Even more so as they run into you on the way in, knowing smiles on their lips as Jungkook holds your hand tight. They don’t really say a lot – both of them aren’t man and woman of words, except when they pour them into the lyrics of a song.

But Kiko does hug you. Does whisper in your ear that she wishes everything will be set right for the two of you, and when you pull away to meet Jungkook’s gaze, you think it already is. Especially as you’re clutching the flowers he got for you, and their sweet fragrance surrounds you.

And then they walk away, as they were leaving to go on a late walk, and you and Jungkook walk in the building, making your way to the elevator. Jungkook presses the call button, and then pulls you close to his chest so that he can press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Well, that was awkward,” he says.

You chuckle. “It wasn’t really.”

His grip tightens around you before he lets you go so that you can enter the elevator. He follows you in, and he intertwines your fingers as he presses on the fourth floor. As the elevator starts moving, you pull him closer, tilting your head back as you pout slightly.

“What?” he asks.

“Kiss me?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He immediately dives in, and you’re surprised with the strength of the kiss. As if he’s pouring his entire soul in it, and you think maybe he is. After all, you kiss him back with all the fire in you, and it’s burning brighter than it ever has.

Unfortunately, the moment is short-lived as you reach his floor and the doors slide open. He pulls away, presses a kiss on your forehead as if he wasn’t sucking on your tongue a moment ago, and then he pulls you behind him as he walks towards his door.

It’s further down the hall, and you wait excitedly as he unlocks. Though you’re a little worried about seeing Bam again – what if he doesn’t recognize you?

Which, you reckon was a stupid thought, because the dog comes barging out, tail wagging wildly, when Jungkook manages to get the door open.

“Bamie!” you exclaim, and Jungkook carefully takes the bouquet of flowers from your hand to allow you to bend down and pet the dog.

He licks at your face, whimpering as if he thought he’d lost you. It brings tears to your eyes, and you giggle like a kid as you pet him, rubbing his short fur as he keeps running all around you.

“I think he’s happy to see you,” Jungkook deadpans, and you burst out laughing.

You look up to try and look at Jungkook, but Bam jumps in your vision, which makes you giggle again. And then, something magical happens. Something you didn’t think you’d hear again – Jungkook laughs that childish laugh of his, the one that usually only comes forth when he’s really happy.

You act by pure instinct. You stand up, wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck. His giggle dies against your lips, but he’s quick to kiss you back as he snakes his inked arm around your back. You let out a breathy sound, and then burst into a fit of giggles as Bam jumps on you.

“I think he demands attention,” you state and Jungkook nods as you part, though he keeps his arm close to you.

“We should take him on a walk,” he says, and you notice his cheeks are flushed red. You reckon yours probably are too, but there’s something about seeing the effect that you have on him, even after everything, that makes you come undone.

“I’m so happy to be with you right now,” you murmur.

He gulps, eyes shining suddenly. “Me too.” He adds your name softly, before repeating, “Me too.”

You walk in his apartment after that, to put the flowers in a large glass of water since Jungkook doesn’t own any vase. Meanwhile, he disappears in what you assume is the bedroom, only to reappear with his camera. To your surprise, he’s already fitted the new lens on it.

It’s endearing. There’s something so incredibly endearing at the thought that your gift is loved already, that Jungkook already wants to use it. It makes a line of silver appear in your eyes, and you don’t even blink it away as Jungkook angles the camera towards you to take a picture.

“Huh,” he lets out as he looks at the picture. He adjusts some settings, and before he’s had time to take another picture of you, Bam comes up to you, jumping up. His two paws rest on your waist as you laugh, and that’s when Jungkook snaps the picture.

You glance his way to see him smiling softly, and then he nods appreciatively. “I’m going to use this lens way too much,” he comments.

It makes you laugh. “I’m glad.”

And then you’re going outside with the dog. Jungkook brings the camera, and he snaps pictures of the surroundings, of you and Bam. He even takes one of the three of you, though you reckon the angle is clearly unflattering.

It doesn’t feel like it matters. Because you’re struck realizing that this, this moment matters. It matters enough for him to want to commit it to memory, and you wonder if he’s going to add it to all the frames you left behind.

But then again, did he even put them up in his new apartment? From what you could see when you were in, there was no picture visible.

It aches, but then he tells you to smile and you do. You immediately do, because there’s nothing easier than smiling when you’re with him like this. The wariness still clings to him, but it’s barely visible, like a mirage that’s about to fade in the distance.

“Stop taking pictures of me,” you say as he takes another one.

He lets out a noncommittal sound, shrugging his shoulder. “Why?”

You pout as blush creeps on your cheek. “You haven’t taken this many pictures of me since… Chicago?”

He shakes his head. “I took more pictures on our first trip to Korea.”

A beautiful trip, where you’d met his family for the first time. You had gotten along with everyone well, even though your Korean was poor. You got better through the years, but you still have a long way before you can speak in Korean without feeling like everyone is going to judge you.

“That’s beside the point,” you mumble. You motion towards Bam, who’s patiently sitting next to you. “I’m pretty sure he’s done.”

Jungkook pouts, and butterflies take flight in your stomach. “Sorry,” he apologizes.

You’re not quite sure why.

“I just…” he adds, and then shadows cloud over his features. They resemble the sorrow that was surrounding him last weekend, and just like that you think summer has ended. “I haven’t used my camera since…”

You don’t need for him to say it, because you know exactly what he was going to say. Still, it hurts, and your gaze drops to the ground.

“Gosh,” you whisper. You let out a strangled sound. “I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just grabs your hand, raising it to his mouth to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“We said we’d try,” he reminds you, or maybe he’s trying to remind himself. “Let’s try. For real. So no more apologies.”

“I feel like you deserve thousands of apologies and more,” you admit.

He kisses your forehead, and it’s against your skin that he whispers, “I just want us to move on from what happened.”

You nod, wrapping an arm around his waist to loosely hug him. Unfortunately, Bam pulls on his leash, and you have to let go of Jungkook far too quickly. Still, you meet his gaze, nodding your head again.

“I want to move on too,” you tell him. “If I could, I’d erase everything but…”

He holds out his hand for you to interlace your fingers with his. “But it’s in the past.”

He’s right, yet you see the wariness. It’s still there, though you think soon the mist will dissipate with the rays of the sun. So you follow him in, let him feed Bam before he shows you around his small apartment. It feels like him, in ways you can’t really describe, and you want to stay. You think, if he’d ask you’d never leave again.

“I like it,” you tell him as he finishes the tour in his bedroom, which is only occupied by an unmade bed with white sheet and a small night table with his pair of glasses on top. You notice the LED lights, and a smile moves to your lips. “Please tell me these still shine purple like they did at the house with the boys.”

Jungkook nods, offering you a grin. “Yeah. I thought it’d be great to have a… reminder of a simpler time.”

He turns them on, and you get it. You get it so much you grab the lapels of his jean jacket, pulling him closer to you. His lips are upon yours in an instant, hungry, insistent, ravishing a kiss that makes you light-headed. Especially as he grabs your face, holds on to it like it’s a life buoy in a storm. The piercings push into your bottom lip, their colder temperature making your tongue dart to them, as if to warm them.

Jungkook groans, and then kicks the door of his bedroom shut. He’s had to stop kissing you for that, but he’s kissing you again half a second later, and it’s even more intense, more desperate.

You let go of his jacket, hands blindly moving to his belt as he pushes his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, moan lightly when he groans again. You fumble with the buckle, but soon enough you get it undone, and you move on to the button of his jeans.

You just want him. Need to feel his body against you, in you. And clearly he needs the same thing, as he pulls away from the hug to take your shirt off. Right as you get the button undone, and then unzip his jeans. You slip your hand in, letting out a breathy sound as you find him already hard. He sits heavy in your hand, and you squeeze him unabashedly.

“Fuck,” he curses, head thrown back as his eyes close. “Baby.”

The pet name has you drop to your knees, and you pull his pants down just enough for his dick to spring free. He doesn’t try to stop you, and you admire him for a time. Admire the brown base of his tip, the veins that run along his length. A bead of precum appears on his slit as you look, and you’re quick to lick it clean. The salty taste fills your mouth, and you look up at him, to see him watching down on you, strands of hair falling in his eyes where they’ve escaped the confines of his beanie.

“Suck it, mmh?” he says.

You grab him, jerking him off loosely. “Yeah?”

His eyes darken behind the strands of hair. He bites at his piercings, cocking his head to the side. And then he’s glancing away and to your surprise, he asks, “Can I take pictures of you while you suck my dick?”

You swirl your tongue around his tip, and he bucks his hips forward. In answer, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. “Right now?” He nods. “You want to take pictures of me while I suck your dick?”

“If you want to,” he answers. “If you don’t want to it’s fine.”

You close your lips around his tip, sucking once. “You’ll keep the pictures to yourself?”

You don’t know why you’re agreeing. Only know that the lust in Jungkook’s gaze is making you forget everything about common sense. But then again, you highly doubt that Jungkook would ever do anything to harm you.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open as he was about to answer, but when you take his dick as far as you can, he’s silenced. And he’s hard in your mouth, a rod of steel you’ve missed since last week.

“Yeah,” he finally breathes out.

You sit back on your heels. “Then it’s fine.”

He smirks, nodding his head as he finishes taking off his jeans and underwear. “Wait here.”

You purse your lips as he walks away, and you watch him leaving his room to head to where he left his camera. You patiently wait, feeling shy even though you have nothing to be shy about. This is just Jungkook – it’s not like he hasn’t seen you half-naked and on your knees for him before.

It takes him a moment to come back, but when he does, it’s to sit on bed. He’s still hard, and he leans back on a hand as you move closer.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he gently says as you run a hand along his thighs.

You glance at his scar, the familiar knot of skin giving you more confidence than you expected. “You’re going to jerk off to these pictures, mmh?”

He gulps, angling his camera towards you as you lean closer to his dick. You lick at it, and the shutter goes off.

It has you dripping in your panties, unexpectedly.

“So what if I do?” he asks as you grab his dick, stroking him.

The question is rhetorical, and your answer is to wrap your lips around his cock as your eyes flutter shut. You swirl your tongue around the tip and hollow your cheeks as you go down. You hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, and you can’t help but moan as you hear his camera again.

You flick your tongue at his frenulum on the way out, and then you stroke his dick as you sit back. You move one hand to his balls, squeezing gently before thinking better of it and leaning forward, sucking on one. He grunts, and you keep your eyes locked on the camera as you jerk him off faster.

Another picture added to the list. And you’re dripping wet. Already you want to sink on his dick, want him to be so deep inside of you that you’re just one.

“Kook…” you murmur, and then you’re back to sucking on his dick, though this time you make sure to squeeze his balls too, the way that he likes it. Hard, but not too hard, and you’re choking around his dick in no time as he starts fucking up in your mouth, clearly forgetting about the pictures.

It goes like this for a while, with his dick growing impossibly hard. Your jaw aches by the time he pushes down on your head, hand lost in your hair. You gag, and he moans loudly. You think he’s coming, but he somehow manages to keep it in before pulling you off.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.” He breathes for a moment, as you wipe your mouth and chin from the drool.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. You glance at the camera. “Any good pics?”

That brings him back to the land of lust and passion, and he offers you a smirk. “We can look at them after. I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, because you know you’ve barely started. Know you’re likely to be unable to walk tomorrow. Because the lust in his gaze hasn’t shone so bright in years, yes, but also because you almost lost each other.

Or maybe you have, and this too is just a dip in the past.

You stand up, hands snaking to your back so that you can unclasp your bra. Jungkook watches you carefully, before taking a picture as you massage your breasts. It makes you bite at your lower lip, and you look at his hard dick where it rests on his stomach.

“Can I ride you?” you ask breathlessly.

He smirks. “You don’t want me to finger you first?”

Instead of replying, you finish undressing, taking off your pants and panties at the same time. You then push on his jean jacket, and he takes that as a cue to remove it. You motion to the shirt too as he was about to lean back on his hand and he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raised. When you nod, he takes it off too, and it makes his beanie fall.

His hair is a mess, and you can’t resist but step forward so that you can push it back, though you think the jet black strands are currently untamable. You give up after a few seconds, pushing on his chest so that he lies back.

His eyes are on you as you climb on his lap, and you grind along his length, coating it with your juices.

“Shit,” he lets out again. “You’re fucking dripping.”

You nod, moving up just enough so that you can grab the base of his dick. His tip prods your entrance, and he pulls at his piercings as you wait there, teasing him with a corner smile on your lips.

“Fucking tease,” he growls.

It undoes something in you. Because yes, you wanted to tease him. You wanted him to beg you to fuck him, but now you sink down on him, until he reaches your cervix. Even the pain of him hitting the back of your pussy doesn’t make you move, and your walls clench around his dick as he grunts out a curse, followed by your name.

“Kook,” you purr. “Fuck me good.”

He chuckles as you circle your hips, and his free hand rests on your hip as he angles his camera to take a picture of you again. “You can’t do the work?”

He says it condescendingly, and you find enough challenge in you to start bouncing up and down. It shuts him up, and the following moment is spent with you fucking yourself on him as he groans under you, your breathy moans filling his room. Soon enough he stops taking pictures, putting his camera down next to him so that he can hold your hips with his two hands.

And then he’s fucking up in you, and you cry out as you lean forward, wrapping an arm around his neck while your other hand holds on to his shoulder.

You’re a mess, yet your heart clenches in your chest as he fucks you like this. As you remember a land of winter, that somehow doesn’t feel as distant as it should. Maybe because of Jungkook’s wariness tonight, or maybe because you know all good things come to an end.

The thought douses your arousal, until Jungkook stills deep inside of you and whispers, “I want to be with you, like this, forever.”

You nuzzle your face in his neck and suck a mark on his skin. “Me too.”

And then he’s fucking you again, hard and quick. He holds you close, grunts in your ear as you lick at his neck. It’s an abundance of sensation, and your brain focuses on the way he hits your clit whenever he pushes up. Whenever his hips snap against you, and soon there’s an orgasm in the distance.

It finds you when he lets you sit up so that you can fuck yourself on him again, and his thumb finds your clit to press expert circles on it. It finds you hard, and your pussy spasms repeatedly on his dick. He helps you through the high, and when you finally come down, a dumb smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Fuck,” you let out.

“Felt good?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice, the one you know he only reserves for you.

To hear it right now makes you love him so much you think you’ll die on the spot. Because yes, tonight has been great. Yes, it’s almost been like before, but what if he doesn’t take you back?

What if, in the end, this was just an extended moment meant to be closure for you and him?

“Yes,” you still reply.

Because no matter how much your heart aches in your chest, you’ll never lie to him.

“Good,” he says. He sits up, wraps an arm around your waist to steady you as he brings his mouth to yours.

You go in for the kiss. Meet him halfway, and you moan against him as he moves under you, albeit clumsily from the position.

His lips will make you drunk. Make you dumb, make you forget that there’s a world outside the door. That, in that world, you might not belong to him anymore. But then again, you think you do. To you, you always will.

“Lie on your side,” he says after a moment, lips moving against yours.

Jungkook pecks your lips one last time before you move, and then he kneels behind you. His dick prods your entrance again, and he grabs his camera to snap another picture.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises as he pushes the tip in, taking another picture. “Such a good little fucking slut.”

And then he pushes all the way in, until all of him is embedded in you. You grip the sheets as a broken moan escapes your lips. He holds your hip with one hand, fingers digging in the supple skin as he fucks you hard, chasing his own orgasm.

He looks good doing it. Long hair sticking to the sweat on his face, eyes narrowed in pleasure, mouth open as soft grunts echo through the room. The purple light makes his honey skin glow somehow, and you feel another orgasm reaching for you, though it doesn’t hit right away. It just feels so good – as he always does – and you can’t help but clench your walls against him.

That’s what undoes him. He comes, ropes of white painting your insides, as he swears and says your name in a litany that almost makes you go over the edge too.

“Baby,” he says at the end.

It feels like a confirmation. Like a confirmation that, maybe, maybe you will work this time around. That maybe distance won’t destroy you again – maybe you’ll grow old and gray by his side.

“You came so much,” you say as you feel his hot cum sitting deep inside of you.

He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. And then he pulls out, and he takes a picture of the cum dripping out of you. He decides to push it back in, curling a finger inside of you, and your walls clench as you moan.

“Touch your clit,” he tells you.

You don’t need to be told twice. You quickly move your fingers to the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing quick circles on it as he pushes another digit inside of you, fingering you until the second orgasm finally finds you.

You cry out his name, a broken plea that doesn’t really make any sense as your vision turns white. And it stays that way for a long time, blinding you until ecstasy is swimming in your blood. And when you come down from the high, all that you can think is how much you missed him.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

“Baby…”

He puts the camera away, and then bends to press a kiss on your lips. It’s soft, and you grab his face to hold him in place, not even wincing as a bead of his sweat rolls on your cheek. You kiss him with a heart heavy with emotions, trying to show him that you’re never going to leave again. When he pulls away, you notice his teary gaze.

“Can we be together again?” he asks, and you watch in horror as a tear rolls on his cheek. You sit up, drying it with your thumb.

And you don’t care if it was too quick. Don’t care that there’s a high chance it won’t last. You still answer, “Yes, Kook. Yes we can.”

He smiles, nodding his head. “Let’s take a shower. I want to hold you tonight.”

You want to cry from the statement, want to tell him that you wish he could hold you forever, but the words get lodged in your throat. Instead, you follow him as he gets up, interlacing your fingers with his as he leads you to the bathroom, uncaring that his seed is rolling down your inner thighs.

He turns the shower on, and soon enough you’re standing under the hot water. He watches you carefully, presses a kiss on your forehead when you stand in front of him. You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him as close as you physically can. Even then it’s not enough – you want him under your skin, or to be under his.

You don’t think you’d survive being parted from him again. Maybe that’s why you let him fuck you again when you return to his room, slower this time, lips entwined in a never-ending embrace. Love flows between you and him, and it’s etched in the way your bodies move together, in the way you’ve been molded perfectly for him, and him for you.

You wonder if outside, the stars are shining. And you’re struck thinking that tonight, tonight they’ve aligned for you and him again, the universe agreeing for this second chance between you and him.

So you hold him close, and pray that this time around, forever is waiting for you.

Saturday, September 9th

Jungkook wakes up slowly. Softly, the same way waves hit the shore at low tide. He’s unusually warm, and he frowns as he shifts, trying to turn on his side. Then, he realizes his arm is stuck under something. His very dead arm, and he cracks an eye open.

That’s when he remembers that it’s you. You’re the one sleeping next to him, mouth slightly agape as you breathe softly. You’re also the one crushing his arm, and he tentatively clenches and unclenches his fist to try to get the blood circulation back on track. It doesn’t really work, so then he stops, figuring he’s going to have to make you move somehow.

But you look peaceful, in the light of the rising sun. Serene, like there’s never been anything wrong in this world. This morning, Jungkook wants to believe it. Wants to believe that happiness is all he’s ever known – that accidents, heartbreak and pain are all constructs of his imagination.

He’s too realistic for that. Or perhaps the breakup has made him pessimistic. Because the peace of the moment doesn’t really linger, and he’s stuck reliving the moment you left, that night in May. Stuck reliving the wait for you to come back, only you never did.

Or maybe you did, months later. Maybe you really are back, and this time you’ll stay.

You mumble something in your sleep, startling him. It takes him a few seconds to realize you’re still deep asleep, but when you move he quickly does too, pulling his arm from under your head. You frown, lick your lips, and then your features smooth out as you return to your peaceful slumber.

He turns on his side, watching you carefully. He’s aware that watching you sleep is creepy, but he can’t help it. Not when his bed has been empty for months.

He stays like this for a while, unable to fall back asleep. Because, what if you’re gone when he wakes up again? He doesn’t want to risk it.

Unable to help himself, he gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. You sigh, and he’s afraid he’s woken you up. When a small smile appears on your lips, his heart skips a beat, yet you don’t show any other sign that you’re awake. He assumes you aren’t, and then decide to take a picture of this moment.

He feels like he’s going to need it. Like all the pictures he took yesterday – he was desperate to commit to memory as much of you as he possibly could. He feels bad – he said he’d give you a chance, he is giving you a chance, but some part of him is just waiting for it to blow up in his face.

Maybe if he expects it it will hurt less.

He carefully grabs his camera where he left it on his night table. He doesn’t dare take a look at the pictures you took yesterday, a little ashamed that he asked you to do that in the first place. Silently, he takes a picture of you, and then puts the camera away.

Only, the reminder of the kind of pictures he’d find in the camera was enough to make his blood stir, and he picks it back up almost immediately.

And then there you are, in all your glory. Beautiful as ever, pussy filled to the brim with his cum, with his cock. Tits squeezed in your hands, in his, and his dick goes rock hard as blood leaves his head.

He wants you again, and he wants you now. He doesn’t care that it’s early morning, that he never liked waking up early. All he can do is put the camera down and slide closer to you. He pulls you back into his embrace, and you sigh softly as he wraps his arms around you.

Jungkook holds you tighter, nuzzling his face in your hair. The inebriating scent of your shampoo fills his nose, and his dick twitches in his underwear.

You hum, and he holds you tighter. “Morning,” he says, voice low and gravelly.

You make another sound that can pass as a hum, but you move against him, until you’ve wrapped an arm around his middle. There’s a moment where silence reigns again, and Jungkook is afraid you’ve fallen back asleep, but then you say, “Morning.”

He smiles. “Slept well?” he asks, kissing the top of your head.

He’s convinced you’re smiling against him as you say, “Want to sleep more.”

He whines, which earns him a chuckle from you that makes the wariness settle back in, even as his heart feels full in his chest.

It never felt full without you. Another reason why he needs to be ready for the blow, whenever it comes.

“I want you,” he admits. “Can’t sleep.”

You hum again, and your hand slides down his back. You squeeze his ass, and then move the hand back up. “You’re going to have to try.”

He whines, lips jutting out in a pout. “Boring.”

At that you laugh, pushing him slightly until you’re able to look him in the eye. He keeps the pout on, knowing that it always worked with you before.

“It’s not even morning,” you point out.

“The sun is up.”

You roll your eyes, though your lips are curved upwards, your gaze beaming as you hold his. “We fucked twice last night.”

He shrugs, rolling on his back so that he can stare up at the ceiling. He pulls at his piercing, the new one, and then turns his head towards you again. “Yeah, and?”

“Surely you don’t need to fuck right now,” you tease.

He frowns, looking away again. “Not my fault if I haven’t fucked since… May. Last weekend doesn’t count.”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” you say, laughing lightly. You prop yourself up on an elbow, blinking away the tiredness as you meet his gaze again. “And besides,” you pause, features turning confused as a crease appears between your brows. “Haven’t you fucked while we were…” you trail off, motioning vaguely around you.

And then something occurs to Jungkook. Something bad – maybe the explosion was closer than he expected it to be. Maybe he’s been standing in the radius of impact, waiting for the bomb to go off. And maybe your sleep deprived brain forgot the measure of protection, maybe it forgot he was standing there.

Because your eyes go round with fear, right as a drop of lead solidifies in Jungkook’s stomach.

“What?” he lets out.

What a stupid question to ask. He wants to beat himself up, because he knows.

He knows now that you’ve been with someone else. Why else would you be surprised that he hasn’t?

“I’m just saying…” you try, but it’s too late.

The bomb has gone off, and all that’s left is rumbles.

“Get out,” Jungkook says, and somehow it’s lacking bite. It’s lacking anger, lacking any signs that he cares for you.

It surprises even himself – doesn’t he care? Or is there nothing left of him in the aftermath of the explosion?

“Kook.”

“You’ve fucked someone else,” he states. When you don’t say anything, just watch him in horror, he sits up in bed. “Get out.”

“Come on,” you let out this time, following him up. You wrap yourself in the blanket, his blanket, and he wants to rip it from your body. Doesn’t want anything that’s his to be in contact with you anymore. “It didn’t mean anything,” you say, and you’re suddenly blinking back tears. “It was just one-time.”

“Frankly, I don’t want to know,” Jungkook says, and he really doesn’t. Doesn’t want to think about another man’s hand on you, or he’ll break.

He’s done breaking for you.

You don’t fight the tears, as you understand that the end really has come. At least that’s what he thinks happens – you just sit there, gaze heavy with tears until they fall, little droplets that carry a world of regret.

After all, the distance really was enough to break you up, wasn’t it?

Jungkook watches you, surprised that his heart is not clenching in his chest. No, he feels nothing as he watches you – he’s already cried enough for you.

“We were broken up,” you murmur, holding his gaze. “It’s not like I cheated.”

At that he laughs, shaking his head. If you can’t understand that he’s done, that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore, then he’ll do it the harsh way.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he says. “I couldn’t be with someone else. I tried, and you were all I could think of. And…”

“You tried!” you interject. “You tried and you’re giving me shit for it?”

He gets up, trying to put distance between you and him, as if that’ll make the fight easier.

“I still chose not to do it,” he coldly states. “The girl was willing, she even kissed me and…”

“You kissed someone else?”

He laughs again, the absurdity of the situation dawning upon him. “Yeah? Tae set me up on a date, and the girl kissed me at the end and I told her I couldn’t. I didn’t fuck someone else.”

The way he’s throwing the blame at you feels selfish, especially as more tears join those already sliding down your cheeks.

“How is that fair, that you’re mad at me when you literally went on a date with someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob as you try to dry your cheeks. “Come on, Kook, it meant nothing.”

“Who did you fuck anyway?” he asks.

For a reason unknown, your tears stop. Entirely, there a moment and gone the next. “Why do you want to know?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t fucking want to know, and he scoffs as he runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands. “Get out,” he says again, still as stern and void of emotion.

“It was Harrison,” you still say. “I switched departments because I didn’t want to see him again after that.”

Now, there’s an inkling of pain tickling the carcass of his dead heart. As if there was still more, for him to feel, even after everything. As if pain is but a constant of his life now, and he thinks maybe it is.

“Your colleague?” he repeats, dumbfounded.

He’s met Harrison a couple of times, throughout your relationship. He’s always thought the guy was decent, but now something very ugly settles deep in his core. Something that tells him, ‘Hey, maybe he’s only ever wanted to fuck her, maybe he was waiting for his chance’.

The words are on a loop in his head, and he doesn’t even think he can see you anymore. All that he sees is Harrison with his hands on you, in his ever-too creative mind.

He startles as you put a hand on his arm. He shrugs your grip off, steps away from you. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Kook, I swear, please listen to me,” you beg, and now you’re crying again.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to.” At that he shuts his eyes, runs a hand on his forehead and then through his hair. “I really don’t want to. I don’t want you to be here anymore.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” you say, an echo of something you said earlier. Though this time you say it differently, as if you too sensed the finality in Jungkook’s tone.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want you to be around anymore. He was stupid to give you a chance after you broke his heart – you chose to break up, months ago. Why would it be different this time around?

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells you, as softly as he can. Because he knows you’ll break even more, and some dark, twisted part of him is satisfied that this time, this time he’s the one with all the power over you. “I’m done, Y/n.”

The words sound like thunder, in all their calmness. In all their softness – or maybe that was the sound of your heart breaking. Whatever it was, Jungkook really is done. He wants you gone, wants to be able to break in the quiet peace of his home.

A home you aren’t a part of anymore.

You nod. He expects you to fight more, but you nod. Choke out a sob, turn around, and start putting your clothes on. He figures he should dress too, so he does, picking up discarded items of clothing on the floor, not caring that they probably aren’t clean. All that he cares about is to get you out of his apartment, out of his sight.

And when you’re ready, he walks you to the front door. Lets you say goodbye to Bam, a crushing parallel to the time you’ve said goodbye in May. Bam still looks confused, and Jungkook feels bad, for a moment. Because you were the dog’s mother – he’s been looking for you ever since May. Jungkook can only hope that, this time around, Bam understands that it’s farewell.

When you straighten, you mutter an apology. Jungkook ignores it, holds your gaze expecting something to hurt, but he’s just empty. Empty and tired, and all he wants is to go back to sleep and to never wake up again.

“I can’t let you go,” you let out, voice stark with pain.

He shrugs. “You should have realized that in May.”

You close your eyes, and you look so fragile. Like glass – it never survives the shockwave of an explosion, doesn’t it?

“Please,” you beg. “Let me make it up to you.”

He laughs bitterly. “How? You’re going to go back in time and not get fucked by him? You’re going to go back in time and not break up?”

You look like you want to curse him, and he almost wants you to. He wants you to fight, wants you to make him feel something other than this emptiness. Instead, you shake even more, sobs racking through you.

“I wish I could.”

“Leave.”

“Jungkook, I swear,” you insist. “Let’s not lose each other over this.”

He wets his lips, tongue pushing in the inside of his cheek next. “We’ve lost each other already. It’s time we realize that we have.”

And that does it. You fall silent, defeat washing over you like a tsunami wave – there’s nothing left after its passage, and you look tired, sick, standing there right next to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize again.

He shrugs. “It’s whatever. The past is the past.”

You look like you want to say something else, but somehow you remain silent. Somehow you look at him for a time, bloodshot eyes taking in his features as if it’s the last time you’ll ever see him again. He surprises himself by doing it too, mostly by instinct. Because right now, looking at you makes him want to be sick, but he knows that it won’t last.

He knows that the echo of pain in the distance is a good indicator that he still has it in him to break for you. That he’ll break for you forever, perhaps. Because he doesn’t think that there’s an end to you and him. It’s always going to be a cycle, and it’ll never end well.

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you murmur.

He offers you a tight-lipped smile. “Goodbye.”

All he can do is hope you know it means farewell.

Thursday, October 5th

You used to love fall. The cooler weather, the long walks that smell like soil and fallen leaves and pumpkins. Nowadays, you hate fall.

You hate it because he loved it, and every reminder of him is poison to you. And though the season is still early, the days are getting shorter, and the longer the night, the more you drown in thoughts.

You haven’t slept in weeks. Have barely eaten too, and you’ve been off from work for a week. It’s allowed you to stay in, to just sit and try to breathe, hoping that it’ll help.

That it’ll fix something that’s never going to be fixed.

You’re lost. Lost in a town that used to be your home, lost in memories that used to be beauty brought to life – now, you’re seeing the ugliness in beauty. Because beauty is temporary, and like all temporary things in life it doesn’t last long enough. Beauty, and the ending temporality of it, leaves nothing when it goes but a bitter taste in mouth.

Perhaps that’s why you haven’t been able to eat properly.

You haven’t spoken to anyone, since the early morning he asked you to leave. Yet for some reason, you’ve felt the need to go outside today. To walk around, aimlessly perhaps, but you couldn’t stay inside a second longer. Too many tears were shed in your apartment, and you hoped the cool weather would help you feel better.

It does, a little. Because you feel like you’re breathing him in every time you inhale, and then carry him out on an exhale. You feel close to him, in a distant way that’s bound to only make you break harder tonight, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care. You do hate the reminders of him, but you need them. Viscerally, as he was the oxygen in your lungs for so long.

You’re going to have to learn how to live without him, one step at a time.

So you take another step, let your instinct carry you where you have to go. Maybe it knows how to heal.

The sun is descending in the sky, and the absence of clouds lead to a sea of azure you’d swim in if you could. You’d soar up high, so high that there isn’t oxygen anymore, and maybe then the pain would cease. You’d ride a sunray into the night, where you’d finally be able to fall into a well-deserved slumber.

As you look up, a tiny bird flies across the sky, a small speck of brown that goes so fast you think you imagine it. Like the years with him – they went by so quickly, the crushing wheel of time spinning down the slope towards the end.

Seven years ago, almost to the day, you kissed him on a hotel roof lost in Chicago, under clouds painted with fire. Who knew seven years later you’d be trying to live without him, clearly failing at it.

You sigh, pushing the thought away as you reach a crossing. You wait for the light to turn green, then follow the parallel white lines across the road. You avoid a pile of leaves, though a strong gust of wind makes some of them swirl around you, spinning like Mother Nature’s tiny dancers.

The foliage in the trees along the street is golden and red, bright colours that look out of place in the bleakness of your heart. You follow them, wonder if they know that they are about to die. The answer is one you’ll never have, and so you walk under the trees, the autumn breeze playing with your hair.

You don’t know where your steps have been carrying you. You’ve long gone past the places you usually go to, heading towards the middle of the city. The no man’s land between you and Jungkook, spread wide in a maze of streets you want to get lost in.

So you do. You press on, walk until the sun becomes a ball of melted gold nearing the horizon, and it’s on the corner of a street that a glint in a vitrine catches your eyes.

You eye the rings, crafted by an expert hand. Bands of gold, with diamonds and emeralds and gems you don’t know the name of. They look expensive, elegant, and you wonder if you would have had a ring on your finger one day, bought by him.

Recklessly, you walk into the shop, wishing to peruse its vitrines, hoping they’ll offer you dreams to survive the night. And you can almost see it – a ring on your finger, a proposal under a star-sprinkled sky, an intimate wedding for you and him. A dance, always and forever, of love shared like a secret in the night. Your secret, as the end would have one day come for you and him, an eternity of life later. You would have been old and grey, yet your love would have been young and eternal.

In this dream, he would have never taken the job overseas. You’d have stayed here, together, growing old by his side. You would have gotten more dogs, maybe even a cat, and you’d have lived happily ever after.

You wonder if, in a parallel universe to yours, the dream is unfolding. If parallel-universe you has the chance to experience it, and you think she does. You think she does, and the love is so strong it’s shaking through universes, picking you up like you’re just a leaf in an autumn wind.

Because why else, then, do you find yourself buying a gold band? Too big for you, masculine in its simplicity. Something you think he would have worn, had you been in that other universe.

You sit on a bench outside, after, as the last of the sunlight finally fades away, replaced by a blue dusk that matches your mood far better than the sun ever could. You have no idea where you are in the city, no will to brave the trek back home – you’ve been out for hours at this point.

You grab your phone, long forgotten in your purse. You haven’t touched it all day, and to your surprise you’ve received a couple of texts while you were walking, all by the same person.

[04:37 pm] Jimin: hey, this is going to sound crazy [04:37 pm] Jimin: and I’m really sorry to be telling u this [04:37 pm] Jimin: can u go check on JK? [04:38 pm] Jimin: he’s been unreachable for days and at this point I think he’ll only talk to u

You want to text him back to fuck off, to leave you alone, yet you hold on tighter to the velvety box in which the gold band hides. After all, even if you’ve received the texts hours ago, you’re realizing perhaps that that’s where your steps have been leading you anyway.

It’s stupid – he asked you to leave. Hasn’t contacted you once since then, and it’s like the wedding and the week after never happened. Like you’ve been broken up for months, like you barely know him anymore. He’s a stranger now, in your life, something you’d never thought he’d become someday.

And why would he talk to you? Why would he want you in his vicinity, when he made it clear as spring water that he was done, that the end had come to pass between you and him?

But if the end has come, why is that you’ve been feeling like you’re surrounded by him, today? Like you’ll always be – just a drop of water in the sea of him. Perhaps you are weak, to feel for him the way that you do, but seven years ago, the cataclysm that started you and him shook you, and its repercussions are still felt today. Will be felt until your dying breath, until all that’s left of you is stardust.

So you let your feet carry you, weightless in the way that you’re moving forward. Like you are once again but a leaf carried by the wind, and you can only hope that it’ll let you land in the right place.

You don’t really know how you make it to his building. Perhaps you were closer than you initially thought you were – all that you know is that you recognize the building, and that you sense his proximity through the walls.

Your heart reaches for him, longs for him in a way you can’t ignore anymore. Because you’ve been dead, without him. Just a shell of what you should be, of what you want to be. Because yes, you could learn to live without him. After everything that you’ve been through, you know well enough that you are strong enough to do it.

But you don’t want it. You want that dream you’ve found in the jewelry shop, want to make it possible. Want to prove that, no matter who would ever get close to you, he’ll always be the owner of your heart.

So you walk in. Reach the elevator, press on the call button. Then on the fourth floor, reminiscing the night you rode the elevator in his company, right before the fall. The new fall, a harshest one that made you reach those low levels of hell that living without him are consisted of.

You awaken when you are standing in front of his door. You think you can almost hear him inside, moving around through his home. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat, where you’re standing. If he too can tell that you’re nearby once again, even though you shouldn’t have been.

Even though farewells have come to pass between you and him.

You don’t knock. You don’t have to. To your surprise, the door opens in front of you, slowly, before you’ve even managed to raise your arm to knock. Then his voice fills your ear, as he tells Bam to wait. You just stand there, dumbfounded, and then his eyes move from the floor to your face, and his mouth falls open.

Bam jumps on you, tail wagging wildly as you take a step back from the force of impact. You pet him on the head, pushing him back to the floor as you try to focus on Jungkook.

And then it dawns upon you that you have no clue what to tell him. You reckon you maybe should have prepared something in advance, because you’re wordless standing in front of him.

“Hey,” you eventually say, and you think the world has time to revolve around the sun three times before you manage to say something else. “How are you?”

His mouth slowly shuts, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He pulls on Bam’s leash, tells the dog to sit, before he finally addresses you. Just your name, and the way he says it make it sound formal, like you’re just a stranger.

“What are you doing here?” he asks after another moment.

You look down at your hands. At the box you’re holding, and his eyes follow after you. “I was thinking of you, today,” you admit.

He sighs, and his eyes shut. “You were?”

You nod as he meets your gaze again. “When am I not?” Your comment doesn’t ask for a response, and he doesn’t offer you one either. “Jimin told me you’ve been unreachable.”

“Yeah,” he lets out. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh.” You try to look behind him, as if you’ll find his reason to be busy there. “Can I talk to you?”

He says your name, this time like an apology. “I told you we were done.”

You shrug. “I know.” You gulp, fingers playing with the velvet box as if it’ll help ground you. “Can I walk Bam with you, then?”

He looks conflicted but he gives in. Says yes in a defeated way that rips your heart from your chest, in a way that makes you cling to the ring box even more, hoping that it’ll offer you salvation.

Being outside in the early fall evening with him feels like the Earth has finally returned to its normal axis. You don’t say anything, unable to find the words, and he remains silent too. You just enjoy his company, watching over Bam as he sniffs at plants before peeing on a pole.

Stars are twinkling in the sky up above. The breeze is still soft tonight, caressing your features in a gentle embrace that resembles the one he’d used to offer you, though it’s far colder than his. You spare a glance at him – he’s already looking, and he doesn’t look away as your gazes connect.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again.

You wet your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“How is that an explanation?” A shrug of your shoulders is all the answer he gets. He scoffs, shakes his head slightly, and then his head turns toward the door of his building. “I have hot chocolate inside,” he tells you, once again sounding defeated. “Do you want a cup?”

Turns out salvation wasn’t to be found in the velvet box you’re holding, but in the gentle angles of Jungkook’s features, behind his big doe eyes that will forever feel like home to you.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you tell him, voice soft. “I just wanted to… talk.”

“Then let’s talk over a cup of hot chocolate,” he says.

Which is what you do. You follow him in, feeling like you’re out of place in his life. Like he’s only giving this to you because of what you used to be to one another. Yet you don’t care. You’re slowly finding words, your brain shaping them into sentences to change an ending you can’t come to terms with.

Jungkook prepares the hot chocolate in silence, as you sit at his small dinner table. You play with Bam as he does so, a game of tug-of-war that you’re bound to lose as the dog is far stronger than you. Yet you still indulge, as you’ve missed Bam far more than you even thought possible.

The game is only interrupted when Jungkook rests a cup of steaming hot chocolate on the table next to you. You let Bam go, and the dog trots away to go play somewhere else, you can only assume.

“What did you want to talk about?”

You’ve left the ring box on the table. You’ve noticed Jungkook glancing at it repeatedly since you’ve put it there, and you worry at your bottom lip.

“I wanted to apologize again, for what it’s worth,” you answer. “I felt horrible when it happened, and just wanted to forget all about it.”

His features turn harsh, and his eyes drop into the cup of hot chocolate he’s nursing for himself. It reminds you of a café, of a conversation you had years ago, that led to you opening up to him, and to him opening up to you.

“I love you,” you continue. “I haven’t stopped loving you, and if I’d known that breaking up would hurt so much, I would’ve fought harder. I wish I had, and I wish I’d never let you go.”

“But you did…” he says when you remain silent for a few seconds.

“But I did. And I understand if you hate me for it. If you don’t want to ever see me again. But shit, you’re the only thing that I’ve been able to think about. Just you, and everything that could have been, had I been stronger.”

You grab the cup of hot chocolate, the warmth of it slowly seeping through your cold fingers. For the next few minutes, you don’t say anything, and neither does he. You just drink the hot chocolate, hoping you’ll find more words to say at the bottom of the cup.

“The distance was hard,” Jungkook eventually says. “I don’t blame you for wanting to end things over it.”

It surprises you. Makes your brain go entirely empty, and you just watch him with wide eyes for a few seconds.

He shrugs as you don’t say anything. “What?” He looks down, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. “I’ve been thinking about everything too.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I over-reacted, when you told me you had sex with Harrison,” he admits.

Totally not expecting the conversation to take this turn, you’re stunned silent.

“I was shocked, and needed time to process,” he continues. “You were right, the fact that I went on a full-on date is just as bad, differently. We were broken up, we didn’t owe each other anything.”

As much as it pains you to agree, you still do, nodding your head. “We didn’t.”

He purses his lips, holds your gaze for a few seconds before glancing down at his cup. The silence is more comfortable now, as you think maybe, maybe then the dream you’ve dreamed about isn’t just a distant mirage of what could have once been. It’s foolish, but you can’t help it.

You think your heart is beating for the first time since you left that morning weeks ago.

“Did you want to speak about anything else?” he asks after he’s taken a long sip of his hot chocolate.

You take a deep breath, and somehow courage finds you on the long exhale. “I don’t want us to be over.”

You think you hear him gulp. “You don’t?”

Blinking away a few tears, you shake your head no. “I really don’t. I walked around all day today, and all I could think about was you. All I could think of was all the years between us, from when we met to a few weeks ago. And I don’t know, I refuse to accept that the end has come.”

“When does it come, then?” he asks.

“When the end comes?”

He nods.

“After years and years,” you say, allowing yourself to voice your dream. “Hopefully after we’ve had years to live together. After we’ve gotten married, and maybe even after we’ve had kids. Not that I want some.” You pause, and you look down at the table, unable to carry the weight of his gaze anymore. “Or maybe after we’ve had plenty of dogs, a cat or two. After we’ve had a house with a white picket fence, after we’ve danced under a thousand different night skies.” A tear rolls on your cheek, and you do nothing to stop it. “After we’ve travelled the world together, after we’ve had a chance to live, together.”

“And what happens after we’ve lived together?” he presses.

You shrug. “Then we die together. Then we turn into stardust and memories. I don’t care. As long as it’s with you, I don’t care what happens to me.”

Blurry behind the wall of tears in your eyes, you see Jungkook run a hand through his hair. “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” you echo. “I just want to get to love you.”

At that you do cry. And not just a little bit. Your heart longs and yearns for him, reaching in the space between you, trying to find a beat to sync with. You wipe your cheeks dry with trembling hands, before pressing the heel of your palms on your eyes, hoping to stop the cascade at the source.

“It’s a nice dream,” Jungkook says after the few minutes it takes you to collect yourself, your hands falling to the table.

“Is it?”

He nods. “Yeah. I don’t think we’d do a white picket fence though. I’ve always found cedar trees make a better fence.”

Something stirs inside of you, and you want to take a hold of him, and to never let go. “Yeah?”

He sits back in the chair, looks up to the ceiling as he blinks away the silver in his own gaze. You wonder if he’s crying because he saw you cry, as the sympathetic crier that he is, or because he shares the emotions in your heart.

“Where would you want to get married?” he asks then.

You push the velvet box towards him. “This is for you.”

He doesn’t acknowledge this, instead repeating the question.

“Somewhere in the countryside,” you answer. “Maybe the cottage where it all started.” You think about Julys of a world ago. “Under the night sky.”

“People don’t usually get married when it’s already dark.”

“Right,” you let out. “Then we’d have a ceremony for just us two when it’s dark outside.”

At that he grabs the box, opening it. You reckon he must have known what the content was, because he doesn’t say anything as he takes it out. As he tries to put it on his finger, though it doesn’t fit. It’s too tight, and it makes him chuckle, a sad sound that almost kills you on the spot.

“Do you think we’d dance under the stars?” he asks as he turns the gold band in his fingers, and light glimmers on it.

“Yes,” you say, nodding your head. “We always would.”

“So you came all the way here to tell me this?”

He meets your gaze again, for the first time in a while. He looks struck with emotion, much like you feel – the depths of his eyes are swirling with love and ache and yearning. You fall forward, fall in his eyes, trying to find home again.

“I came here to ask you to marry me,” you finally say, as it dawns upon you that, yes, your steps were leading you to this all along. “Jungkook, will you marry me?”

He smiles, a world of sadness etched in the sweet curve of his lips. “Can it be this easy?”

You shut your eyes. “It can. Please. Let’s not lose what we have again.”

“When would you like to get married?” he asks.

“Are you saying yes?”

He plays with his piercing, takes a deep breath as he chases tears away from his gaze but to no avail. You watch the two drops as they slowly roll down his face. “When would you like to get married?”

“In July,” you answer easily.

“Next year?”

You nod.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds more, then looks at the gold band again. His fist closes around it, slowly, as if he’ll be able to crush it in his hold. For what you don’t know. All that you know is that his features grow tortured, pained. It doesn’t last long – another deep breath later the expression is gone.

“I need to tell you something,” he says then, his voice so small you can barely hear it.

You prepare yourself. As well as you can, expecting the blow before it comes. You sense it – in the eternity it takes for him to speak again, you see every moment of you and him before this day, your life flashing before your eyes as if you’re about to die.

And then he says it a first time. At first you don’t even understand the words, as if he’s speaking a foreign language. So you let out, “What?”, hoping that it will change the cruelty that this world holds.

But nothing can, after the end has come. Nothing, especially not as he repeats the words, softly, their meaning tainting the dream you’ve just painted with him, until all that’s left of it is a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I’m permanently moving to South Korea.”

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

I'm sorry for the angst, for the cliffhanger, for them to be so stubborn and for how life is working against them now. I hope you don't hate me too much after this :') let me know what you think of this chapter!

Taglist: (add yourself to the taglist here) (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you):

453 notes · View notes

sirfrogsworth · 4 months

Text

A very generous follower got me the "do everything" lens I was saving up for and I don't know how to thank them. They'd like to remain anonymous, but I wanted to share my first image and dedicate it to them. Check out them bokeh balls.

The thing about lenses is they often don't perform well at their widest aperture. So if you are shooting in low light, you have to take a serious hit to quality and detail. But the Sigma 50mm Art said, "That sucks" and made their lens near perfect even at f/1.4.

Here you can see a $100 lens at f/1.8 vs the Sigma at f/1.4.

Note that just going from f/1.8 to 1.4 is a huge optical engineering challenge and then to end up with a sharper image is even more impressive.

So thank you anonymous follower, you have made the first step of my new photography journey much easier. I now have the proper tool to get started and that is amazing.

264 notes · View notes

cupidjyu · 9 months

Text

win over your heart (goal!)

sunwoo x reader (this is for the anon who requested jealous sunwoo and bff eric! thank youuuu~)

summary: getting partnered up with your best friend eric and your childhood enemy sunwoo for a school project isn’t always ideal.

genre: friends to lovers, childhood enemies to lovers lol, school au (high school, college, not rlly specified), soccer player sunwoo and eric!, eric is your best friend and the real mvp here actually, fluff, jealousy, confession, getting together, first kiss, reader likes photography, flirting but also shyness notes: yumi is in a weird era where she suddenly writes these long ass fics for literal no reason 😭 my true writing potential (not rlly, i could write 20k if i rlly wanted to) word count: 7k

There were many rules when it came to soccer. You never quite understood all of them. The only thing that you were absolutely sure of, was that the goal is always the main objective. So really, every time you watched soccer games, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the area next to the two white nets, wondering which team will score next.

“Y/n! Hey.” Eric popped up from the bleachers, dressed in his usual soccer uniform. He leaned his forearms against the cool metal, looking up at you with a quirky smile. “You didn’t forget what you have to do, did you?”

You immediately shook out of your little daydream, looking down to face him. “Oh, yeah. I definitely remembered.”

Eric raised an eyebrow.

You huffed. “I remembered… just now.”

“Focus.” He rolled his eyes. Then, he gave you a cheesy thumbs-up and a wink. “Make sure I look top-tier and better than everyone else.”

“I’ll make sure I do the opposite,” You deadpanned. As he walked away, you picked up the heavy camera that hung around your neck. Photography has always been your sort of… escape. Being able to look through the lens in a completely new perspective and even capturing precious moments easily caused you to get lost in your own world.

Usually, you took pictures of scenery or pretty flowers. But sometimes, there would be a certain someone who wanted you to take high-quality pictures of him so that he could use them to impress someone that he was crushing on.

You sighed, bringing the camera up to your face, to zoom in. You moved your view around until you found the familiar back of Eric’s head.

“Found you, dummy,” You whispered to yourself, turning the lens so that you could focus on his face. You followed him around, taking pictures whenever he would subconsciously pose in the sunlight or when a bright smile would appear on his face whenever he successfully passed the ball.

After the first game of practice was finished, you tracked your best friend as he walked towards someone. You squinted your eyes, watching as he began to talk to him, punching his shoulder and everything. Eventually, your curiosity got the better of you and so with a held breath, you shifted your focus onto the man next to him.

“It’s you,” You wondered to yourself, pulling back briefly. “Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo was your enemy. Well, not anymore. Elementary school enemies. It was funny, really. You two had always bickered when you were little children, sticking tongues out and messing up each other’s coloring papers.

“I’m gonna tell on you!” You would always threaten whenever he stole your little zebra eraser.

“Nuh-uh!”

There never was a day where you didn’t fight with him. Up until elementary school ended and he had moved away.

You brought the camera back up, trying to find Eric again but he was long gone. You sighed, as you went back to search for him, but again, your camera landed back on Sunwoo. Swallowing nervously, you watched as he began to play in his own style. Even the way he ran was alluring. He was a lot more serious than Eric, but his eyes were always adorably bright and his hair always bounced like a puppy’s.

You forgot to mention that when Sunwoo had come back to school all grown up, he had really grown up. Taller, broader, his jawline suddenly appearing? It was hard to admit but he became… attractive rather than the cute, scrawny boy from before.

You were enamored, the thought of taking pictures of Eric completely abandoning your mind. You knew that Sunwoo was a very skilled soccer player, which was why he was always moving. Stretching his legs, rolling his neck, blah, blah.

“If you would just stay still…” You mumbled, only managing to take horribly blurry pictures. And suddenly, he paused. “Aha,” You breathed out with excitement. “Stay there.”

But just as you were about to click the button, he was looking up at you, with a confused pout. And then it turned into a growing smirk.

You inhaled sharply, pulling the camera away from your face, your cheeks burning.

“Oh my god,” You panicked and shut your eyes in hopes that this was all a dream. When you peeked one eye open, he was still staring up at you. You simply wanted to crawl into a hole.

And you could have just stood up and left. But poor, poor you. Oblivious you. You decided to wave. Wave at him.

Sunwoo widened his eyes slightly. And then he waved back, giving you a small smile. Even from so far away, you could see the twinkle in his eye.

—

Practice had finally ended which meant that you could finally escape the heat of sitting on the bleachers. You bounded down the stairs to meet up with Eric.

“Tell me! He eagerly jogged up to you with an excited smile. “Did you get any good pictures? Ones that will make people fall in love with me?”

You winced. “I think I did?”

“Great! Let me see–” He reached forward to grab your camera. Normally, you would let him, but this was different. You couldn’t risk him seeing all the pictures that you had taken of Sunwoo.

“No!” You blurted out. “I have to edit them. Some of them aren’t–”

“Eric?” Sunwoo walked up to the two of you, a knowing smile on his lips. Even while sweaty, he still glowed under the setting sun. It was quite unfair actually.

You gulped. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, motioning to your camera. “Are they all pictures of Eric?”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the floor. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

Sunwoo only smiled wider. “Could’ve sworn you were focusing on someone else.”

“You’re imagining things, Sunwoo.” You glared.

Eric gasped. “You were taking pictures of someone else? Who?”

You shook your head, whining and holding the camera desperately out of reach. “I did not! Leave me alone.”

Eric laughed louder. “Never. Not as long as you’re with me.” He surged forward, pulling you into a tight hug as he pressed a loud kiss to the top of your head.

“Eric,” You giggled shoving him away. Except, he only prevailed, holding you closer. Physical touch has always been your guys’ thing. Neither of you complained. That was just what best friends do.

“You will accept my kisses.” He glowered.

“Fine, fin—“ Your eyes met Sunwoo’s. He was staring at the two of you with an incomprehensible expression. Your eyes traveled down and you could see how oddly stiff his shoulders were.

You cleared your throat nervously and pushed Eric off, making him grumble sulkily.

“Can you go ahead without me?” You turned to your best friend. “I have to ask Sunwoo something.”

“Sunwoo? Why would you— ow.” He winced when you pinched him on the shoulder. With a pout, he walked away.

Eric was aware that you knew Sunwoo from way before. You both were best friends after all, meeting just a few years ago. No secrets were to be kept. Well… except for the fact that you think Sunwoo is cute. But that’s different.

You turned to Sunwoo with an embarrassed frown. “If you could just forget that all happened, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“That you were secretly taking pictures of me?” Sunwoo tilted his head innocently.

Immediately, a blush rose to your cheeks. “I was not.”

“Show me then.” He glanced at the camera around your neck. You hesitated but with a sigh you turned it on. Sunwoo approached you and you could even hear his breathing. You let out a shaky exhale, willing your heartbeat to calm down.

You clicked through the pictures, praying that they would all be of Eric. But to no avail, the very next picture was of Sunwoo, kicking the ball.

He hummed, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“That looks like me.”

You stuttered, at a loss for words. He only continued to stare back, his eyes gleaming.

“Fine!” You blurted out. “It is you. But please.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hanging your head low. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled quietly.

“Why?” You could practically hear his smirk. Then, a finger was under your chin, pulling you up to face him. You gasped quietly, trying to look anywhere but at him. He only leaned closer. “I think it’s cute,” He whispered. “After all these years, I have a secret admirer. And it’s you.”

“I am not!” You sputtered, blushing profusely. “Last time I remember, you stole my favorite crayon.”

“You’re still on that?” He pouted.

“Yes, in fact. I very much am,” You stubbornly huffed.

He pulled away finally but he was still smiling. “You do know I was doing all that to get your attention right?”

You froze. “What?”

“We were never enemies. At least I thought we weren’t,” He mumbled as he quickly turned away. If you stepped forward any further you could see that his ears turned red.

“Sunwoo?”

He only walked faster.

—

“What are the chances that we all get paired up together?” Eric happily plopped down on the desk in front of where you and Sunwoo were sitting together.

“Great,” Sunwoo huffed. “It was supposed to be me and Y/n. You just happened to show up late.”

“Aw,” Eric cooed playfully. “Don’t be so jealous.”

“I’m not,” He mumbled. Surprised, you turned to him, only to see his flushed cheeks as he avoided your gaze.

You giggled to yourself as you picked up the paper you were assigned.

“Exploring each other’s hobbies. A way to expand a person’s interests and grow a connection to the other.” You read with a bored voice. “Each person will teach the other their hobby and— This feels like the school talent show all over again.”

Sunwoo laughed. “Remember when I tripped you during your cute little dance routine?”

“Yes,” You groaned. “I was literally about to cry by the way.”

Eric watched your interaction with a growing smile. It was his time to play cupid.

“Did I hear that right?” He spoke up with a grin.

“Hm?”

“Cute. Cute?” He turned to Sunwoo. “Are you flirting with my best friend right now?”

Sunwoo immediately sputtered. “No. I was not. I actually thought it was stupid and dumb.”

You gazed at him with a small smile. “You thought my silly dance was cute?”

He grumbled, flopping down to hide his face in his arms. “I— I didn’t. Not at all.”

Suddenly, the teacher came around and she poked Sunwoo in the shoulder.

“No sleeping in class, young man. And you two should start working.”

You sighed, turning back to the paper.

“As I was saying before someone brought back bad memories.” You glared at Sunwoo who’s cheeks were still tinted red. “We’re supposed to try each other’s hobbies and write a few sentences on what we think about it.”

“Easy,” Eric replied. “What hobbies are we doing?”

“Photography.” You smiled giddily.

“Soccer,” Sunwoo said.

“But I already know how to play,” Eric whined. “Oh, but Y/n doesn’t.” He gasped. “You’re going to be a great soccer player,” He joked as he took your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers with his with an excited smile.

You laughed, turning to Sunwoo only to see that he was staring directly at your connected hands, a small frown on his face.

“Enough of this,” He muttered grumpily, reaching forward to grab both yours and Eric’s wrists, pulling them apart. His warm hand lingered on yours for a second, making you inhale sharply.

“What about you?” You choked out, turning away to hide your blush. “Eric.”

“Me?” He said. He gave a sly smile. “It’s a surprise.”

—

“You walk awfully fast.”

You heard a voice call out from behind you. Classes had ended which meant the usual routine of you heading home.

Turning around, you were met with the sight of Sunwoo running towards you, bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was slightly wavy, reminding you of a poodle.

“Sunwoo,” You breathed out. “What are you doing here?”

He gave you a quirked-up smile.

“Am I not allowed to walk you home?”

You laughed. “It’s a short walk, I’m okay.”

He shook his head, beginning to walk side-by-side with you. It was a comfortable silence with him occasionally taking soft glances at you.

“So,” He spoke up. “You and Eric.” You looked at him, noticing a nervous expression flit across his face.

“What about him?”

He frowned. “How long have you known him for?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a second. “About three years.”

A relieved look replaced his anxious one. “So you’ve known me longer.”

“Well…” You eyed him skeptically. “We were young kids and you did disappear for a good while. And came back really tall all of a sudden.” You nudged his shoulder with a smile. “Didn’t think you would be one of the taller ones.”

“Hey." He scowled. “What do you take me for? Of course I would be tall.” He puffed his chest out, making you laugh dearly.

But then, his expression softened as he looked at you with a sort of longing in his eyes.

“But, I’m sorry,” He whispered. “For disappearing like that. I didn’t want to move away but—“

“It’s okay,” You reassured him. “I mean, for what it’s worth…” You trailed off when you realized just how intently he was gazing at you. But still, you kept up the eye contact no matter how warm your cheeks felt. “I did miss you. When you were gone.”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows rose as he stared at you almost like he was in disbelief. But then, it contorted into a teasing look.

“You missed me?” His laugh was deep. “Tell me, are you in love with me or something?”

Heat rose to your cheeks rapidly. “I was trying to be genuine and nice!” You huffed. “Fine, I'll take it back. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Don’t be like that,” He teased further.

You grumbled, stubbornly turning away.

“Look at me.” He tapped your shoulder. When you did, you noticed that his coy smile was gone, now replaced with a shy, timid one. “And for what it’s worth,” He mumbled, copying your previous words. “I missed you too.”

“See!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to widen on your lips. “Was that so hard to say?”

“Definitely. Took all of my courage actually,” He joked, giving you a charming tilt of his lips.

You snorted. Something glinted in the corner of your eye and your smile fell briefly.

“Is that…” You pointed at the keychain that hung on his bag. It was a small plastic cat, dirty and chipped, almost like he had gotten it years ago.

He widened his eyes, his hand shooting out to cover it from your sight.

“It’s nothing.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Take it.” You had shoved a cat keychain in his hand. “Since you’re moving away and all… you should have this.”

Young Sunwoo had frowned at you. “I don’t want it. It’s ugly.”

But he still took it from you anyway.

You had assumed he was going to throw it out or give it away but here it was, hanging on his bag.

“Oh my god, Sunwoo,” You whispered in utter shock. “You kept it for so long?”

He shut his eyes, wincing from mortification. “It— it was too hideous to throw out.”

“Sure.” You smirked. “Then tell me, Sunwoo. Are you in love with me or something?”

And for some odd reason, he never answered the question.

–

“Photography is all about capturing the moment in it’s best,” You explained. “As long as you do so, then it doesn’t matter if your camera is absolute shit.” You snickered, glancing at Eric with his camera that was basically holding on for dear life. It was battered and dusty as he had claimed that he found it in his attic.

Eric pouted. “I tried to find a better one,” He cried.

Sunwoo laughed to himself. He didn’t have a camera, so he was borrowing yours. Something about the way he gently handled it put a funny feeling in your heart that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

The three of you had agreed to meet at a park, where it was likely to find subjects to take pictures of. Pretty flowers and the like.

“Using a camera is self-explanatory, but it’s the focusing that people need to work on,” You said. “But, I like to think that it comes naturally, as long as they choose something beautiful in their eyes to take a picture of.”

The two of them stared at you blankly, like obedient puppies who wanted a treat. You groaned, frustrated.

“So go,” You urged them. “Capture what’s beautiful to you.”

“Oh right!” Eric shot up, running over to a bed of flowers. You followed him and you helped him focus on a specific pink one.

“You’re supposed to– twist it so that it–”

“I got it!” Eric looked at you determined. “You may be my best friend but you’re a pretty bad teacher.”

You whined, pulling away. “That’s harsh coming from someone who has a camera that’s literally unable to focus at all.”

“Oh.” His mouth dropped open. “Is that why it doesn’t work?”

You snorted. “No. Your camera isn’t even turned on.”

“Shut up.” He scowled.

You laughed, turning around. That was when you saw Sunwoo, standing from a distance. He had the camera brought up to his face. Underneath, you could see a small smile on his lips.

But the thing is, he was pointing the camera straight at you.

Your past words rang through your ears. You felt your breath be completely taken away at the realization. Sunwoo seemed to be unfazed as he only zoomed closer on you.

Clearing your throat, you walked up to him.

“Me?” Your hand came up to the camera, pushing it down so that his kind eyes met yours.

He nodded, stepping closer so that he was only inches away from your face. You could feel your heart beat all throughout your limbs as your breath was caught in your throat. His hand came up to the side of your face and you felt something being tucked behind your ear.

You furrowed your eyebrows and touched it. It was a small, white flower.

“Sunwoo?” You breathed out, your voice shaky.

“You said to capture what’s beautiful to me,” He answered. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reply as he stepped backward, brought the camera up to his eye, and took a picture of you. You were sure you looked like a deer in headlights. A deer with a flower tucked behind its ear.

“You…” Your mouth went dry as you looked down at your shoes like they were the most interesting thing. “I don’t know what to say.”

Sunwoo smiled. He took the camera off his neck and handed it to you.

“Just know that I think you’re the most beautiful,” He whispered. He walked away as soon as he noticed Eric coming towards you.

Your mouth gaped open yet no sound came out. You turned the camera on and looked through the pictures. There were no photos of flowers or butterflies. They were all of you either talking to Eric or walking toward Sunwoo. And the last photo was what made your legs go weak. The one with the flower behind your ear.

“Woah, you look so nice in that picture!” Eric stated, peering from behind you.

You had forgotten to mention that what the photographer captures, is what they truly see in their eyes.

(Photography seems fun. Though it isn’t something I would pursue, I did learn to take pictures of lovely things. Or people. There’s one person in particular. - Sunwoo)

“Soccer isn’t just about kicking the ball.” Eric walked across the field, his chin held up high like their coach always did. “It’s about– uh…”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Nevermind, it really is just about kicking the ball,” He muttered, his cheeks flushing. Sunwoo snorted, taking the ball from him.

“We’re just going to kick the ball at the goal over there.” He pointed out.

You nodded. “See? Eric, Sunwoo’s a much better teacher already.” Without thinking, you grabbed Sunwoo’s arm, pulling him closer. You didn’t notice him begin to blush profusely.

“No, no.” Eric shook his head. “I’ll teach you how to kick the ball properly.”

You sighed. “Fine. Prove yourself.”

“I will!” Eric stuck his tongue out at you. You let go of Sunwoo so that Eric could walk behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulders, tilting your body slightly. “When you kick the ball, you don’t use the tip of your shoe. You use the–”

The both of you were interrupted by Sunwoo clearing his throat. He was practically glaring daggers at Eric, his eyebrow raised.

“Let me teach.”

Your breath hitched and you turned to Eric. He seemed to be completely unbothered though. Instead, there was a knowing smile on his lips as he looked at Sunwoo, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Okay,” He jested. “Go ahead.”

He easily backed off, bewildering you. You stared after him about to say something but he cut you off again.

“Your boyfriend is a really jealous person,” He remarked, cackling as he walked off to kick the ball around for himself.

You squeaked. “He’s not–”

You inhaled sharply when you noticed that Sunwoo was already standing behind you.

“Pay attention,” He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh,” You breathed out shakily. “Okay.”

You could hear him huff out a subtle laugh as he brought the soccer ball closer to your foot. Did the weather change? You wondered why it was starting to feel so warm.

It got much, much hotter when you registered the feeling of a large hand resting on your waist. He gently shifted you so that you were at an angle. You took in a deep breath.

“At an angle,” He explained. “Use the inner side of your foot to kick the ball.”

You looked up at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes soft on yours. With a shaky exhale, you turned back to face the goal. And then you kicked the ball. You watched as it traveled barely a short distance before stopping right behind the goal line.

“I hate this,” You cried.

Sunwoo laughed, his deep voice alluring. “You did alright.”

“Better than that one time you fell flat on your face in kindergarten,” You snapped.

He pouted. “You remember that?”

You snickered. “Of course I do. That was the first time we met.”

“Yes, and you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Eric appeared out of nowhere, balancing the soccer ball on top of his shoe. “You what?” He watched the both of you intently.

You blushed, and shoved Sunwoo away after realizing just how close he was to you. “Nothing! I did nothing.”

“Are you okay?” You called out after realizing a boy had fallen on his face.

“I’m fine,” He had sniffled.

“Here, let me help you.” You beamed. You sat beside him for the next few minutes, putting bandages on his scratched knees.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

Yeah, definitely childhood enemies.

Sunwoo smirked as he looked at you. “You’re still the same to this day, you know,” He replied.

“How so?”

“You like to take care of me.”

“I don’t,” You grumbled.

“Oh, so what was that water bottle doing right next to my locker when I said that I was thirsty?” He grinned.

You slapped a hand over his mouth urgently. “How did you know it was me?”

“On the piece of paper next to it. You still have similar handwriting from what I remember.” He winked.

(Sunwoo is a great teacher. But also a little excessive. Waist grabbing to teach how to kick? Someone’s awfully whipped. - Eric)

–

“Tell me I look good,” Eric pleaded. He began to practically hyperventilate, severely worrying you.

You set your hands on each of his shoulders.

“You look great. Very handsome.”

Eric whined. “Do you really mean it?”

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile. “Now go. This is your first date, you can’t mess it up.”

He nodded, determined.

“Okay. I’ll text you after, okay?”

You smiled and waved goodbye. As he was walking out of the school grounds, he turned back around.

“I look good right?” He hollered again, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“You look hot!” You yelled back, waving and jumping up and down, causing Eric to double in laughter.

Once he was out of sight, you turned around, only to see Sunwoo sitting at a bench reading a book. You raised your eyebrows and went to take a seat next to him.

“You hate reading,” You finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh do I?” He looked up at you.

“Yes. Unless you’re a changed man?”

“Definitely,” He dully remarked, turning back to his book. You studied him oddly. Something about his tone threw you off. It lacked emotion, almost like he was upset.

“…Sunwoo?” You leaned closer so that he would look at you.

“What?” He glanced at you briefly before gulping and turning back to his book. You could tell he wasn't reading a single word.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” He replied. Yet there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his face.

“Are you sure? You can tell me.”

He shut the book harshly before turning to you.

“I mean, if you’re going to call him handsome and…” He paused. “Hot. You might as well date him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Eric?”

“Yes, Eric,” He huffed grumpily.

You stared in utter disbelief. This was… different. He was looking back at you intently while being adorably frustrated. There was a crease between his eyebrows and a cute pout on his lips. Slowly, your frown began to grow into an endearing smile.

“Sunwoo,” You giggled. You took the book away, placing it down. Your hand wrapped around his, pulling it into his lap.

“What’re you doing?” He asked gruffly. You could hear the shakiness in his voice.

“Sunwoo,” You whispered. “Are you… jealous?”

“What? I’m not—“ He wrenched his hand away, his cheeks red. “I’m just annoyed that you call him handsome and all,” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You don’t do that for me.”

Your smile only widened as you looked at him knowingly. His shoulders squared and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Now his ears have turned red.

“I’m not jealous,” He insisted, frowning endearingly.

“If you’re so sure about it then I guess I won’t call you handsome then…” You sighed, biting back a smile as you stood up from the bench. Suddenly, a hand caught onto your wrist.

“Wait. Are you really?” He looked up at you with round eyes.

You shrugged. “It’s a pity since you’re so certain that you’re not jealous.”

“No!” He blurted out. When he realized his volume he blushed even more. “No. I— I guess I was a bit jealous…”

“And?” You laughed, sitting back down.

“And… can you call me handsome now?” He hung his head low.

You laughed even louder. “Yes.” You cupped his face in your hands. “You are so handsome.”

You could see him visibly struggle to conceal his smile.

“So handsome. So handsome I will faint,” You exaggerated.

“Ah…” He mumbled, grabbing hold of your hands and trying to escape your hold. “That one time was enough.”

You ignored him. “But you’re so handsome!”

“Okay,” He whined, blushing intensely. “I— I get it.”

–

“You never told us what your hobby is.” You frowned, sitting next to your best friend after practice had ended.

“Oh, right,” Eric replied. And then a smile grew on his face, slightly scaring you. “I’ll tell you first and then I’ll tell Sunwoo once he’s done.”

“Okay, what is it? You’re being awfully suspicious.”

He motioned you so that you would lean closer. He cupped his hands around your ear and whispered, “Dressing up.”

“Huh?” You pulled away in bewilderment, staring at him like he was the craziest man in the world. “Dressing up? Since when did you like to–”

“Shh,” He panicked, slapping a hand over your mouth. “Call it a guilty pleasure of mine.” He grinned.

You cringed. “Okay. So, what do you want us to do then?”

“Dress up?” He replied like it was the easiest thing ever. “Wear your fancy clothes or whatever. And then meet there.” He pointed at one of the goalposts. “Seven in the evening. Don’t be late.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to dress up though.”

“Trust me,” He pleaded. “It’ll be worth it.”

You sighed. “Fine, but only because we’re best friends.”

“Great!” He excitedly stood up. “See you there!”

“Mhm, all dressed up.” You rolled your eyes.

–

Just like he had requested, you stood under one of the soccer goalposts. The sky was orange, and the sun setting beautifully. And yes, you had attempted to dress up. You did your hair and everything, even wearing your nicer clothes. But, you didn’t enjoy standing there. All alone.

Maybe you were early, but there was no one else standing beside you. Sometimes you despised Eric for being so mysterious. You bit your lip nervously, pulling out your phone. You dialed Eric’s number and he picked up a few moments later.

“Eric? Where are you?”

“Oh, Y/n.” He laughed nervously. “About that… I uh– caught a cold.” He forced a cough out that was oddly suspicious. “So I can’t show up.”

“What?” You panicked. “So I did all this for nothing?”

“Don’t forget Sunwoo,” He sang. Before you could even reply, he had already hung up, leaving you stranded. You groaned, frustrated as you put your phone away.

You were just about to grab your things and go back home but that was when you caught a figure in the background. A very familiar figure.

“Sunwoo?” You tilted your head.

He came into view. He definitely didn’t get the memo of dressing up but he somehow still looked good. He had a hand behind his back, hiding something.

“Did you–”

“Oh wow,” He breathed out, stepping forward as he looked you over. He gave you a soft smile. “You look really… nice.”

Already, you could feel your legs transform into jelly.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “But did you also dress up?”

Sunwoo looked at you with confusion. “Dress… up?” He pulled his hand away, only to reveal a bouquet of flowers. It was beautiful, filled with colorful tulips and carnations. You gulped at the sight, gazing at him with shock.

“Sunwoo…” You uttered. “What is this?”

He pouted with puzzlement. “Did you not get flowers?”

You frowned. “...No. Eric told me that the thing was to dress up.”

“Huh.” He was deep in thought. “He told me that it was to make bouquets.”

“What?” And then it dawned on you. “Don’t tell me–”

He laughed, clutching the flowers to his chest. “This is a set-up.”

You snorted. “What’s the point of this? It looks almost like a love confession.”

He grew silent at that.

“Don’t tell me he noticed...” You heard him mutter to himself quietly.

You stepped closer. “Notice what?”

“Nothing.” He turned away.

“No, tell me.”

He sighed. “Well, I did make this for you,” He grumbled as he placed the flowers in your hand. You smiled as you observed how well it was made. The ribbon was tied neatly and the flowers were arranged beautifully.

“Thank you, Sunwoo.” Your eyes sparkled.

He blushed, turning away.

“And what do you mean by you making this for me specifically?” You widened your eyes.

“I found out that flowers have meanings so–” He pointed at the pink and red flowers. “The carnations and tulips both mean… love and affection.”

“Oh,” You dumbly replied. You laughed trying to ignore the pounding of your heart. “Are you in love with me or something?”

You had expected him to roll his eyes or deny it. But instead, he stayed quiet and looked at you with utmost sincerity, as if to silently tell you that,

Yes, I am.

You blinked, the flowers falling to your side.

“Sunwoo?”

“You have to listen to me first,” He said quietly. “I didn’t expect this to happen today but I guess Eric had other plans.”

You looked up at him softly. “For what to happen?”

“For me to tell you that…” He searched your eyes helplessly. “That I like you.”

You felt your whole world shift, almost making you drop the bouquet. “Wh–what?”

“I like you. A lot. And I have since all those years that we bickered as young kids. The reason why I teased you or stole your things was because I wanted you to pay attention to me. And I still tease you to this day because I like your cute reaction,” He rambled. “And I–”

“Don’t be nervous,” You whispered.

He sighed. “But you make me nervous.”

Your breath hitched, your grip on the bouquet tightening.

“You make me so nervous that I become a fool,” He said. “I’m supposed to be calm and collected but when I’m with you, I… I get jealous and anxious. And I feel like I look stupid all the time.”

You shook your head. “That’s not—“

“And,” He groaned, blushing even more than before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small that sat in the palm of his hand. “I still have this stupid crayon. Because I’m always thinking of you.”

You gaped at it, then looked back up at him. He no longer had the constant smug or teasing look, instead, it was replaced with an unsureness that made your eyes soften.

“Sunwoo.”

“I know,” He mumbled, looking away briefly. “This is sudden and I understand if you don’t like me back. I just needed to tell you at some point. It’s been years.”

“Years?” You whispered. You stepped closer after gently putting the flowers down. You placed a hand on the side of his face and you were pleasantly surprised to see him nuzzle into your touch. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “After all this time?”

He nodded nervously.

And then you laughed. You just couldn’t help it. He frowned cutely at you, humming in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“No I—“ Your eyes crinkled with a smile. “I just can’t believe it. I thought we were enemies this whole time.”

He whined, “God no, I really liked you. I still do.”

“For me, back then…”

His eyes brightened. “You liked me back too?”

You winced. “Okay, not really.” You eyed him sheepishly. “I did actually despise you in elementary school.”

Sunwoo laughed lightheartedly.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you right now.”

“Well I would hope that you don’t hate m— what?” He swallowed thickly, studying your features with a mixture of disbelief and undying hope. “You like me?”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Why’re you so surprised?”

“Because I’m a complete loser.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who said I don’t like this complete loser?” You teased, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “And besides, you’re not really. You’re cute and sweet.”

He choked.

“I like this side of you,” You continued.

“Which one?” He asked shyly.

“The one where you always look out for me.” You searched his eyes tenderly. “The one who always blocks me from getting hit by a soccer ball and the one who always checks up on me when I’m tired. That side of you.”

“Of course,” He answered softly, turning to press a small kiss to the palm of your hand, causing you to stutter over a breath. “It’s only natural.”

You grinned.

“Then it’s only natural that I do this then.” Before he could get a single word out, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You lingered there for a moment, trying to process your own mess of feelings, before pulling away with reddening cheeks.

His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated as he gazed at you with so much admiration that you couldn’t help but shy away, pulling your hand with you.

And then he spoke again, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“You deserve a yellow card for that.”

You pouted. Soccer terms were the death of you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He chuckled. “It was foul play.”

You bit back a smile, looking at him shyly. “How so?”

You gasped when you felt two hands on your waist, pulling you in close and right up to his chest. His eyes had never once left yours after the kiss on his cheek. He only continued to gaze at you lovingly.

“You were supposed to kiss me on the lips.” He smiled softly.

“Oh.” You rolled your eyes. “Well I’m sorry, Mr. Referee that I—“

“Blah, blah.” He smirked. “Make it up to me then.”

“As a matter of fact,” You huffed, with fake annoyance. “I will.” Your hand came up to the back of his neck and you pulled him right against his lips, making him manage out a mmph noise. Butterflies immediately filled your stomach to its very brim when his hold on your waist tightened and he began to tilt his head to deepen the kiss.

Soon enough, he began to smile into it, even breathing out a husky laugh that only turned the butterflies in your stomach into literal cartwheels. When he pulled away eventually, he still lingered on your lips, pressing small pecks on them which made you giggle.

You could see clearly that he was in a daze with the way his eyes were blanked out and his cheeks were flushed adorably.

“I think I just scored the best goal in my life.”

You erupted with laughter at that, pulling him into a hug as you hid your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“When you like someone you become so cheesy,” You laughed. “It’s hilarious.”

“Specifically because I like you.” He pulled away, searching your face with fondness. “I can’t help it.”

He took your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, right where his heartbeat was. You widened your eyes, but you also weren’t that surprised to find that his heart was pounding rapidly.

“See?” He frowned.

You giggled. “That’s so cute. You’re so cute.”

He struggled to contain a shy grin.

“You should have this back.” He placed the crayon in your hand. It was your favorite color and it sort of looked foolish in your hand, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Sorry for stealing it in the first place…”

You stared at it, feeling all the fond memories rush through your brain. You did contemplate keeping it, but instead, you threw it behind you, letting it land somewhere among the grass of the soccer field.

“What was that for?” He groaned.

“I only like you.” You giggled. “You’re my favorite now,” You joked. "A great kisser too."

You had expected Sunwoo to retort with a comeback or tease you like he usually did. But instead, he blushed. Maybe you broke him after that kiss.

“You can't just casually say that,” He said with a pout and a bothered huff. “That’s your second yellow card. Which technically means a red card.”

“And what’s that?” You smiled slyly.

“Penalty. So come kiss me again please.”

You rolled your eyes. Taking hold of his collar, you pulled him into another kiss in which he happily obliged with an adorable hum.

Walking back home together, it seemed that Sunwoo couldn't keep his lips off you.

"For the project, what grade do you think we'll ge- mm?" You were interrupted by his lips on yours once again. You stared at him, bewildered. "At least let me talk, Sunwoo."

He pressed another kiss to your lips. And then two more on each of your cheeks. And then one on your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut with mortification.

"No can do," He replied, smirking slightly. "You look too pretty for me not to kiss you. Like you do everyday."

You clutched the bouquet close to your heart. Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

(eric when i find u im going to kill u -Y/n)

(ahhh ur so scaryyyyyyy -Eric)

Grade: 95% (-5 points for bad grammar.)

–

“Eric!” You yelled, running toward him with one fist already raised. Your other hand was… preoccupied. With holding Sunwoo’s hand as he trailed after you like a lost puppy.

Eric snickered at the sight, even pulling out his phone to take a picture of you practically dragging your boyfriend along.

“Hey, at least give me the credit for getting you together!” He shouted back as you approached him. “I had to set it up. You both were getting frustrating.”

“We didn’t need your help.” You glared.

Eric raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sunwoo. “I don’t know. I could tell he was too shy to say anything, hence why I–” He pointed at himself proudly. “–had to come in. You should’ve seen how focused he was when making that bouquet. He is in love.”

“Are you?” You grinned, facing Sunwoo. His ears had tinted red, funnily enough.

He shrugged, trying to act completely normal. “Maybe, maybe not.” Yet he refused to look you in the eye.

You turned back to Eric, only to see him smiling knowingly. You laughed, already knowing what he was going to say. It seems that best friends share the same thoughts.

“He is so in love,” Eric whispered, cupping his hand around his mouth.

“Shut up,” Sunwoo grumbled. Yet he continued to gaze at you with heart eyes.

#deoboyznet #fics 💞#requests 💞#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff

379 notes · View notes