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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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I Want You to Stay (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I deeply appreciate all the love and messages (and anticipation for uh, stuff) but again, it's a slow burn! Thank you so much! 🥰

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the couch in his office, his iPad in hand as he goes through the Board report for the nth time these past five days.

Manager Lee and Chin-sun have put together the logistics, construction, and design departments’ reports with the VP’s and Jungkook is supposed to sign these off for submission to the CEO today, who then approves it for submission to the Board members. They have until Friday to review it in time for the meeting happening that same day.

This consolidated report was finalized last Wednesday and Jungkook has been reviewing it everyday since then, including his presentation, making minimal comments and then taking notes on things he’s unfamiliar with. Granted, he’s reporting about the quarter when he’s only been Vice President for a month, which makes you incredibly instrumental in his preparations. As the executive assistant, you have the information that Jungkook needs from Hoseok’s time, and so you’ve also been spending everyday since Wednesday answering all of Jungkook’s questions.

You don’t mind, really, as they’re details you know by heart. It also allows you to show him how involved and meticulous you were under Hoseok’s leadership, and Jungkook’s hums and mumbles of appreciation have helped you gain back the confidence that you lost.

Even if your self-esteem decreased this past month because of the very person sitting in front of you, the fact that Jungkook’s been showing - in his own ways - his trust in you is enough to lift your spirits. He did admit last week that he needs you - something you hadn’t expected him to say - and you could tell it took so much from him to be able to verbalize it. But you suppose you needed that honesty, too; you needed to know that after all that frustration and anger during the first few weeks, there was that realization on his end that you have his back, and you’re just as capable as what everyone has been saying you are.

“What information do you need from me, Mr. Jeon?” You finally ask.

It’s been a good five minutes since Jungkook had asked for you and you’ve just been standing in front of him while he scrolls through the screen, perhaps giving another final look before he finally sends the document to his father.

“Nothing,” he sighs, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. “I just… I just need someone to tell me to stop reviewing this report. I need this out of my sight but I can’t stop checking to make sure everything is okay.”

You look at him intently while he speaks. The tension in his entire face and body is visible, you can even feel it in the room. You feel for him, as he tries to hide the anxiety and desperation. You can tell that he just wants to do well so badly. With the amount of time he’s been spending just going through this, his perfectionist tendency surfaces, and you’re at least thankful that it hasn’t turned him back into an asshole. At least not yet.

“You need to stop reviewing the report, Mr. Jeon, and let it go,” you say as instructed but with sincerity in your words. “You’ve been on this for days. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have reviewed it, and so have I. CEO Jeon could still suggest changes and we won’t know them until he’s reviewed it, but we at least have the details ironed out. If I may suggest, you can send the file to him in the next hour so you can now focus on practicing for your presentation. That may be a better use of your time.”

Jungkook opens his eyes and turns to you. There’s assurance in your words and your voice and like what he told himself he’d do, he’ll trust you and the team. He’s seen how hard everyone has been working for this - Manager Lee and Chin-sun have done so well in consolidating and cross-checking everything; Do-hyun’s presentation is simple yet effective, and Yohan, who’s back from the hospital, has been adding in all the needed details. And there’s you, making sure that everything and everyone is on track, even as you prepare for Jungkook’s upcoming events.

“Okay, then,” he exhales deeply. “I’ll send it in the next half hour.”

Knowing he has a meeting set at 2PM, you ask him if you should order him lunch.

“Yes please,” he answers, saying he wants some braised beef from the restaurant on the next block. “Order for yourself as well, and the rest of the team. You can all get anything you want.”

The silence prompts Jungkook to look at you, and he’s met with a questioning gaze.

“Is there a problem?” He asks.

“N—no,” you answer. “I’d like to confirm again that I’ll be ordering lunch for you and all five of us.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho. That’s what I said.”

You remain unmoving as you wait for him to correct himself. This is the first time that Jungkook has offered to treat the team to a meal. Not that you’ve been waiting for it, but Hoseok took you all out to dinner on his first day as a welcome and a thanks in advance, and once you picked up that Jungkook wasn’t the type to engage with his staff much, you just didn’t expect anything. So takeaway lunch from a nice restaurant is definitely surprising.

“Okay, sir,” you say. “I will do that. I’m sure the team will appreciate it.”

Jungkook merely hums, his eyes focused on the screen now as you bow and head out.

You go meet the team and as you expected, everyone looks at you in shock.

“Did the real Mr. Jeon get abducted?” Do-hyun asks. “Because treating us is something he wouldn’t do.”

“Yah! It may be a month late but let’s just be thankful, okay?” You frown at her. “He can see that everyone’s been working hard and I’m sure he appreciates that, and he may not be able to say it but he can at least show us.”

“While he’s at it, he can maybe at least say thank you or you know, smile every once in a while,” Chin-sun sighs.

“We’ll get there. He knows he needs to do better and he will, I’ll make sure of that,” you assure them, thinking about the conversation from last week.

Jungkook wants you to help him and for his sake and everyone else’s, you’ll make sure that you do.

“Well, is he better to you?” Do-hyun asks, her face in a pout because she’s seen you skip meals several times and even cry, and she’d wanted so many times to just hug you, but she knows it’s not something you openly receive.

“Yes,” you say, knowing it will drive your point. “I’d like to think that the worst is over and I can just focus on doing better and helping him. It would be great if the rest of us could do the same.”

“She’s right,” Manager Lee chimes in. “We grow when we adapt, and much more when we’re able to move on and learn from our experiences. It hasn’t been the best month but it’s also just been a month. So let’s be grateful for the meal and just continue with the good work we’ve been doing, okay?”

You give them the warmest smile you can muster, hoping this would be enough.

It seems to be, as they all excitedly give their orders, which you and Yohan pick up from the restaurant. You return and after giving Jungkook his food, you head to the other room to eat as well.

The team enjoys the meal, with Do-hyun dramatically stating that it’s the best beef brisket she’s ever had. And you agree; there’s a reason why Jungkook gets this every week.

Jungkook can hear laughter and satisfied hums from the support team office, with Do-hyun, he supposes, claiming that it feels like Christmas. Yohan says it’s a much-needed post-recovery treat, and even Manager Lee - who’s often serious - cracks a few jokes. Jungkook can pick out your sound, too, noting the joy that emanates from it. He allows himself a small smile, knowing that given how he’s been to everyone this past month, he at least could give his team this highlight of their day.

He stands by the door, initially going unnoticed, until Chin-sun catches sight of him and alerts everyone that he’s there. The room goes silent, and Jungkook looks on as his staff quietly munch their food and bow to him in greeting. The teasing and laughter have gone; worried eyes are what he sees instead.

Your initial surprise at seeing him melts away. He rarely drops by for anything, even for a greeting or to just check up on the team, unlike Hoseok who liked to come here often to de-stress after long meetings. But you sense Jungkook’s awkwardness at the silence, with his hands in his pockets and his blank gaze, so you smile at him and hope that eases the tension a bit.

“Lunch was great, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “Thank you.”

“It was,” Manager Lee pipes in. “The roast pork was so delicious. The potato salad was very good, too.”

You look at the others and encourage them to say something as well, and they hum in agreement and say their thanks.

“The beef brisket was heavenly,” Do-hyun raves. “Thank you! I hope it’s not the last time.”

She awkwardly chuckles, realizing that her boss isn’t one she should be joking with, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to take offense, as he purses his lips - perhaps to hide a smile, revealing a tiny dimple that catches you off guard.

“It won’t be. And uh, it was a month late, so I’m glad you all enjoyed it,” he replies, a tinge of disappointment now painting his face.

There’s another moment of silence and you observe him, hands still in his pockets, looking around awkwardly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s greatly appreciated, sir,” you assure him once more. “We hope you had a good lunch as well.”

“I’m just about to have it, actually,” he says. “I sent the report to the CEO and he must’ve been waiting for it because he read it right away and called to give feedback.”

“Oh? How did CEO Jeon find it?” Manager Lee asks.

“He said it was good. There are just minor things he asked me to change but I can do them on my own,” Jungkook answers. “I appreciate everyone’s hard work. Now, we can focus on our upcoming events and the Arts Center.”

The team immediately starts packing and swallowing their food, and Jungkook has to stop them.

“Not right now,” he clarifies. “Continue with your meal. And don’t stay too late. We’ve got another busy week ahead.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” everyone says in unison.

Jungkook nods and starts walking away, leaving all five of you with confused looks, as Jungkook has never spoken to the team in such a calm and friendly manner. It was always firm and professional, low and stoic.

You scurry out the room and follow him. Jungkook gives you a questioning look when you enter his office shortly after he does, and you pick up his untouched lunch from the table and inform him that you’ll heat it up, knowing he doesn’t like to eat his food cold.

You go back to the pantry then return to Jungkook’s room, his beef brisket dish now properly placed in a bowl. He gives you a nod, his form of acknowledgment and thanks, you suppose, and you ask the question you’ve had since his earlier stop at the team’s office.

“Are the edits really just minor?” You wonder, knowing that CEO Jeon is meticulous and quite particular with these board reports.

Jungkook takes a moment to respond. He should know that you’ve done this a few times and are probably used to how his father is already, which means you’d see right through him as well.

“Well, they’re not major,” Jungkook says. “I mean, they’re not trivial corrections. The details are all good but I need to change some terminologies and framing and some construction of the sections based on the Board’s current concerns, especially about the Arts Center. They’re not that substantial but it’ll still take me an hour or so.”

“Why did you tell the team that they were minor, then?”

“So they won’t offer to help.”

“But they would. I would,” you tell him. “It’s our job.”

“I was going to ask, but it’s your break time. Everyone was enjoying their meals and each other. First time I’ve seen that, actually. I know it doesn’t happen when I’m around.”

“It’s just that you’re not—”

“Hoseok,” he finishes for you.

“Not someone they’re comfortable being themselves around,” you correct him.

“Yes, not like Hoseok,” he pushes.

“You said it the first day, Mr. Jeon. You do things very differently from your cousin. Your personalities are very different, too. We had him for three years and for Yohan and Do-hyun, he was their first boss,” you explain. “They’re just not used to you yet.”

“What about you? Are you used to me by now?”

There’s sudden tension in the room as he looks at you with the desire for honesty, and it’s what you give.

“I’m not quite sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t really know what he expected, as the question just slipped past his mouth before he could pull it back, so he just nods and proceeds to take his late lunch, wanting to forget that he’d asked at all.

You take this as a signal to head out, which you do, before reminding him that he can ask you for help if he needs another pair of eyes before he submits his part again. Jungkook just nods once more, and it’s later in the day, after the third cup of coffee that you take to his room, that he says his father’s already approved the version he sent after you went through it upon his request. You know that’s just half of what he needs to do though, as he’ll still need to present it to the Board this coming Friday.

“You may go home, Ms. Cho,” he says after he signs some documents for you.

“How about you, Mr. Jeon?” You ask.

It’s been a long day, an extension of an even longer weekend because he’d been at a work event and then reviewed the report as well.

“I’ll probably stay back and go over the presentation. Maybe practice a little.”

You purse your lips, holding something back.

“Should I not?” He wonders.

“Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a proper rest tonight,” you advise.

“I’ll think about it. It’s gonna be a tough one on Friday and I want to be prepared.”

“I understand,” you smile. “I’ll go ahead, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook holds your gaze for a while before he nods and returns to his screen, going through the presentation slides and the notes he scribbled on his iPad. But try as he might, the graphs and the words just go over his head.

He does need to rest, he thinks. He hasn’t really taken a break all weekend. His hookup from last night was the only relief he got, but that was to expend all the negative energy from the anxiety and stress, and he realizes that he probably doesn’t know what proper rest is, like what you suggested he have. He wonders if you’ve ever had one, or if it’s something you stopped having ever since you started working for him.

Taking your advice, he heads out. It’s only been 30 minutes and he assumes you’re already on the bus and on the way home. He sits in the passenger seat, letting Mr. Ri’s choice of music fill the car as Jungkook’s mind wanders to you - how you laughed at the team’s antics, how you got them to assure him, how you read him well, how you were patient and helpful, and how you seemed concerned about how tired he’s been.

He’ll chalk it up to you doing your job and helping him as he asked you to do; he always will. He can’t ever think that any of your actions mean more even if deep down, he wishes they do, only so he knows that you don’t hate him, that you’ve forgiven him for things he never apologized for, that you’ll stay for as long as possible. There’s something about your honesty and calm presence that stabilizes him, that makes him take a pause.

Jungkook’s worked hard on his career for the past decade and it’s all he focuses on; it’s all he thinks about. But when you’re there, he’s forced to stop and think about you. He’s noticed that just this past week - when you’re around, he listens; when you’re close to him, he breathes. Ironic, really, considering that every time you close the distance - when you fix his tie or look at his screen over his shoulder or help him retrieve portfolios - he remains still, his heart stopping and his throat drying up, afraid to take in your scent or to know just how fast his pulse would race or what words he’d say that he won’t be able to contain.

He’s afraid to know you, only because what he’ll learn might make him want you. And Jungkook knows that he can’t let himself feel that about you in any way.

He sighs as he looks out the window - cars in line to cross the intersection, people walking to their destination. He thinks he’s hallucinating as he sees your smile, but a bus blocks his view and Mr. Ri steps on the gas.

Outside, you smile to yourself as you wait in line. You were held up at the lobby because Bitna caught you in the elevator and didn’t want to let you go just yet, so you left the office just minutes ago and were waiting at the bus stop when a familiar car showed up and you saw Jungkook looking out the window. He opted to leave early, too; you can only hope he’ll take your advice and rest tonight.

But the thought that what you said prompted him to take a pause from work stirs something within. Maybe it’s because he’s finally listening to you, or that it seems like he trusts you now. Whatever it is, for as long as it makes your job bearable, you’re all for it.

It doesn’t take away from the moments you’ve shared where it seems like the world stops for a bit as you hold each other’s gazes for the shortest of seconds. There’s tension where there shouldn’t be, and there’s something different in his eyes when there used to be disdain, one which you can’t read nor identify. It leaves you still for the briefest of moments, unguarded and a little bare, as he seems to tell you something with just a look and you just don’t know what it is.

As you find a rare seat in the bus, you let the musings go. Jungkook is a man who holds in him a million thoughts a day and those moments with you seem to be his only reprieve; perhaps they’re also just instances of temporary lags or the rare silence and stoppage of everything. In some odd way, it allows you to see him as the human that he is - exhausted, unsure at times, but seemingly yearning for something.

There’s always an emotion or a thought or a word that he holds in, and you can only wish - as your relationship with him improves - that whatever it is he’s holding back, he’ll find a way to express it.

“Do you have any advice for the Board meeting?”

Jungkook slides the question in before Hoseok heads to the elevator and off to an event. They’ve just finished having a check-in with CEO Jeon, who wanted to make sure that the two of them are well-prepared for this Friday, given that presenting during these meetings and contributing to policy and strategy are crucial in their roles as President and Vice President. Jungkook won’t admit that it caused him a bit of anxiety, but he’ll surely take the chance to ask his cousin for tips on how to make sure that he doesn’t screw up.

“I do,” Hoseok answers as he holds off on pressing the button. “Ask your assistant. And then listen to what she says.”

Jungkook visibly sighs. “Hoseok, I mean it.”

“I mean it, too,” the older man replies. “If it’s anything about our strategic plan or policies, just take my lead. And it’s your very first so you’re expected to still be adjusting. If it’s about the presentation, let ___ brief you about it. She’s been with me every single time I had to present. When I was focused on what I had to say, she was focused on how the Board was reacting and how those translated to the questions they eventually asked. She’d know what you’ll need to emphasize on or who you need to be wary of.”

There’s an unsure look in Jungkook’s eyes, and Hoseok knows it isn’t about trusting you. It’s about him.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Hoseok asks. “What are you afraid of, Kook?”

“You know what they think of me,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to screw up and give them more reasons to doubt me because they already do. And they’re definitely gonna ask about the Arts Center. What if they bring up my disappointing social skills? I don’t wanna end up feeling inadequate and embarrassing father.”

“Keep thinking that way and you will,” Hoseok huffs. “Look. Our family owns the company. You and I were trained to run it after my sister and your brother decided they didn’t want to. The Board knows this. They’ll either stay in our good graces or plot against us. Your father knows that, too, and that’s why he’s being hard on both of us because he knows what we’ll have to face. That also just means he’ll always be on your side. He’ll always be on ours. The Board could be intimidating but we still hold the power. They’ll impose or question or cast doubt because they want to feel that sense of control. It’ll only affect you if you let them.”

“Okay” is all that Jungkook manages to say, a tinge of resignation on his face as he takes in his cousin’s words.

“You’ve managed worse people than them,” Hoseok assured him. “Just focus, stand by your project, and engage them. Simple as that.”

“Yes, it’s very simple,” Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Like I said, your assistant’s there for a reason, Kook. This is when I get to tell you that it’s her job. We would prepare together and debrief right after, and it always helped because she fills in gaps and informs me of things I missed. Trust me. Trust her.”

The thing is, Jungkook does; he doesn’t need to be reminded that he should trust you because he’s learned to do that, despite it seemingly impossible given that you both started off on the wrong foot. It’s the thought of spending more time with you, during a time when he’s still trying to get used to you and how you affect him, that makes him worried about this. But it’s not something he can talk about with Hoseok. It’s not something he can talk about with anyone.

“Fine,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. I’ll go now. Have dinner at home tomorrow, okay? And I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jungkook waves the older man goodbye and then returns to his office, where he finds you dropping some files off for signing.

“Payment requests for the event,” you explain, earning you a nod from him as he walks to his seat. “How did the meeting with your father go, Mr. Jeon?”

“As I expected,” he huffs. “A bit of encouragement, more of the pressure. He’d slide in reminders of what the Board thinks of me and how I should present myself.”

“Is the pressure helping?” You ask.

“A little,” he sighs, sinking into his chair and exhaling deeply. He rolls his head back and closes his eyes, allowing himself a few seconds of peace. “But I still need help. Hoseok said I can get it from you.”

“You know, he oversells me sometimes,” you manage to laugh, prompting Jungkook to look at you now. “I know I’m competent. But I don’t know about being your source of help for a Board meeting any more than providing you with data.” Jungkook likes to do things on his own after all, you think to yourself.

“But you’ve been to as many Board meetings as he has.”

“Yes, but only for his presentation.”

“And that’s what I need help with,” he says. “I just need direction, I guess. Or affirmation that how I’m doing it is the right way. Or tips on who to woo or who to not take seriously.”

Jungkook has been to a few Board meetings but he’s never had to present anything. He’s also never had to engage with the members so he didn’t pay much attention to them because he didn’t feel the need to. These appointments were all a few years too early, and while he’d had a critical position in the Southeast Asian headquarters, everything had gone through his uncle who headed the office then.

This is the first time that Jungkook feels the magnitude of all his decisions, and that every move he makes is being assessed. And even with his father and Hoseok giving him guidance, they have their own teams to manage and an entire company to run, just like him. Somehow, with all the people around him, Jungkook still feels alone.

You, with your perpetual presence and surprising warmth, are the only one who makes him feel otherwise. And it terrifies him more than anything.

“Well, I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” you hum. “I can maybe go through my notes and share them with you.”

“Good. I’d like to do that over lunch, since I’ll have you and Manager Lee watch me practice the presentation around 2.”

Jungkook picks up the slight fall of your face. “Is that a problem?” He asks. “Did you have lunch plans?”

“Nothing more important than assisting you, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a change of expression indicating that you indeed had prior commitments that you’re putting off because of him. “I’ll inform Manager Lee about meeting with him after.”

You head out and return to your desk to work on your remaining tasks for the morning until lunch time rolls by and you accompany Jungkook to a nearby restaurant as he’d asked. You try not to get too excited about the meal in front of you and then control yourself from letting out orgasmic sounds from the succulent piece of salmon that’s melting in your mouth. This check-in seems too important for Jungkook and you want to support him in any way you can.

“How was Hoseok during his first Board meeting?” Jungkook starts.

“Nervous, a little rattled. His sister left him behind with a lot of work and she was abroad for most of the time so they weren’t able to meet up,” you share. “But he got up there and presented all the office’s gains for the past months and then explained his plans moving forward. He had all these good ideas on policy and strategy and he articulated them well. He had to take over multiple small projects and he showed how he planned to manage all of them. His charms sort of hid away the anxiety he was feeling and I guess that eventually helped him get rid of it.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can’t claim that I have,” Jungkook sighs.

He looks at you to see your reaction, and the awkwardness on your face makes him internally laugh.

“I can lie to you if you want me to,” you say, and he chuckles, surprising you both, though he acts like he doesn’t mind.

“I’d actually want you to be as honest with me as possible, Ms. Cho. I don’t want you, of all people, to suck up to me to get on my good graces.”

“Great, since I wasn’t on it in the first place,” you trail, earning you another laugh, and you wish this could at least lessen the pressure he’s putting himself under.

“That’s true,” he says, holding your gaze. He turns to his food before he gets sucked in your gorgeous eyes even more. “But I mean it. I don’t exactly know how to charm people, much less the Board. I don’t want to add to the narrative they already have of me having terrible social skills. But I also don’t want them to think I’m being fake or pretentious.”

“If I may, you’ll botch that aspect if you keep thinking about it,” you advise. “Perhaps you can just focus on what you’re good at. Delivering a presentation, regardless of what it’s about, is a skill. You have all the information and I can add some more if you’re not confident with them. You also tweaked some existing processes and you can build on it. But also, the Arts Center will definitely be their focus, so talk about it the way you would with your father and the team… and me. You let us envision it with your words and your visuals and those are all you need.”

“Okay then. I’ll just imagine they’re all vegetables or something so I can focus.”

“Mrs. Doi likes making eye contact because she wants to feel like you’re conversing with her,” you say. “Mrs. Seo asks a lot of irrelevant questions but you have to answer as if they’re important. Mr. Ong likes being acknowledged every time he says something or even nods. So I don’t recommend acting as if they’re inanimate. Maybe just with Mr. Wang because he falls asleep in everything, but don’t take it personally. I think it’s a medical condition.”

Jungkook’s amused look encourages you to continue.

“Mr. Mun doesn’t really get design and building terms so you’d have to explain them at least twice. Mr. Bong tends to act all mighty but he doesn’t really know much. Same with Mr. Im and Ms. Hwa. The rest are fine,” you say. “Mr. Saito is very thoughtful. He’s a designer so his insights would be good. Ms. Cheng is unproblematic and overall just supportive. Mr. Yeon is just… there. They’re quite intense when it comes to profits and the company’s image but if you stand by what you know, they won’t really say much.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a lot to take in. And also very informative,” Jungkook states. “I never noticed any of those.”

“Well, you had your reasons to be in those meetings and maybe you didn’t have a reason to pay attention to them,” you shrug. “I do. I thought it was an added way that I could help Mr. Jung. Assistants are asked to sit on the side of the room so we can be easily signaled for anything and I thought I could use that position to observe the Board members and see how they respond to the presentation. It helped for the succeeding ones and it took the pressure off him in terms of needing to appease them.”

“Makes sense,” Jungkook hums. “Worrying about how they’ll react or what they’ll say is half of the pressure.”

“It is. I couldn’t help Mr. Jung for his first time because it was mine, too, but he picked things up quite easily. He knew who to pay attention to.”

“Well, considering that I don’t seem to be ideal for this relationship-heavy position, I’ll have to pay attention and appease all of them, it seems.”

“If I may, Mr. Jeon, you can take it as a challenge,” you advise, feeling more comfortable in being honest now. “I may be just a humble assistant but I’ve seen things. With all the praises for Mr. Jung - which are deserved, of course - I’ve witnessed his moments of distress, which is perfectly normal for anyone. A-yeong had to remind him of how good he was everyday because he needed that push and it helped him. It also helped that he was trying to prove something and that he was always told that he had all the qualities to do that.”

“Not everyone has a supportive wife like him though. Or like my father,” Jungkook laughs dryly.

“They had supportive assistants,” you offer, trying to be optimistic. “I had to fill-in as Mr. Jung’s sounding board and I was always in awe at his approach to things.”

“Which is very different from mine, I know,” Jungkook says unintentionally, the sigh making you feel like he’s tired of the comparison, and you feel a bit bad at having to seemingly remind him of that.

“And which isn’t bad at all,” you try to assure him. “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s not right.”

Well, it wasn’t right to treat you the way I did, he wants to say, but the words stay in his head and at the tip of his tongue.

“That’s… comforting,” he says instead.

“I was trying to be assuring but comforting is fine, too,” you chuckle. “But I mean it, sir. I know there are all these expectations and I won’t be able to truly understand what the pressure is like but if you allow it to challenge you, you might even surprise yourself. And then you’ll end up surprising them, too. But do it for you. At the end of the day, they’re just the Board but you’re the Vice President. And you’re you. You’re all you can control.”

There’s a beat of silence as Jungkook takes in everything you’d said. You have this persistence about you that’s reflected in the way you carry yourself and in the way you relate with others, especially towards him despite how he’d treated you not long ago. Regardless of what you said, he thinks you know exactly what he feels when it comes to dealing with pressure. He supposes that working for his family can do that to someone, especially when it’s him.

“Such moving words, Ms. Cho,” he finally says.

“I didn’t mean to give unwanted advice,” you shake your head in disappointment.

“I needed it though,” he surprises you. “Other than Hoseok or even Yoongi, who are both busy themselves, I only have you as a sounding board. And as support. So, uh, thanks.”

He says his gratitude with a soft tone, almost embarrassingly. You can tell it’s something he doesn’t say that often, but you take it, as you think it’s another step towards him trusting you even more. And you need that trust for now; it’s this peaceful and honest dynamic with him that’s making your job bearable.

Lunch continues with Jungkook asking more questions about some of the Board members and you dishing some dirt on some of them as what you’ve heard in the office washrooms, perhaps the only gossip you don’t take with a grain of salt. He’s amused, and you think this is the most expressive you’ve seen him.

You proceed to meet with Manager Lee in the conference room where Jungkook goes through each slide presentation, asking both of you for more information he thinks he needs and about how he’s carrying himself, his tone, his pace, and his engagement. It’s good enough for a first run-through, Manager Lee says, and Jungkook decides to dry-run it again on Thursday.

The rest of your day goes by a little stressfully. There are multiple events that you have to organize and coordinate with other offices, and those are what you work on until you clock out on time.

Jungkook stays behind for only half an hour before deciding he’s had enough of looking through his notes and will return to them tomorrow. He takes the elevator and nods when Yoongi enters.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets. “How are the designs for the Changwon mid-rise?”

“It’s 6:00. I don’t wanna talk about work,” Yoongi whines.

Jungkook knows this. It’s also why he likes to tease his friend about it.

“Fine. We can just stand next to each other awkwardly until we have to get off,” Jungkook says.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. “Or, we can talk about how my lunch plans changed because someone asked my lunch partner for a meeting.”

The tension immediately rises and Jungkook hates how affected he is by Yoongi’s teasing.

“Ah, so it was you. Well, she did say it wasn’t as important as what we were meeting about,” Jungkook hits back.

“True. It’s about the Board meeting after all. It’s a pretty big deal.”

Jungkook starts to feel hot all over, as the thought of you and Yoongi conversing about your thwarted lunch plans because of him plays in his head. It’s a mix of frustration and disappointment. While the meeting was in no way confidential, he just hates the idea that it was something you shared with Yoongi. Perhaps it’s just after the fact, considering that Jungkook thinks it was a good lunch. You clearly enjoyed the dish - he could see how you tried to control your reactions to it - and your conversations went by smoothly. You were honest and supportive; he was open and all the more surprised with how well you were able to calm him down. It’s as if someone else was privy to that moment you both shared, even if Yoongi wasn’t there.

“Huh, I thought you were over her,” Jungkook says, the bitterness slicing through. If his friend picks it up, he doesn’t say anything.

“I am. We were just gonna have lunch at this noodle house because she was craving it,” Yoongi clarifies. “I told you, I’m her only friend here. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who cares about you every once in a while, you know? It’s hard being a working adult and we all need a bit of a break and a companion sometimes. It didn’t mean anything more than that.”

Jungkook chooses not to respond and Yoongi could tell why. There’s this look of annoyance painting the younger man’s face, which makes him a lot more transparent than he wishes he was.

But Yoongi can see right through his friend. It’s not something he raises though, but he won’t be surprised if Jungkook dwells on this. He just hopes it isn’t to your detriment again.

The ride home wasn’t as terrible last night, and after your elder neighbor gave you some stew because she cooked too much, you had a satisfying dinner and an even more satisfying slumber.

You feel like the end of the week isn’t too far ahead - although there really isn’t anything exciting for you except for a date with your bed - and you just want to get through all your tasks for the day and get that jjajangmyeon that Yoongi said he’ll get for you today so you can eat it for dinner. You were initially upset at having to pass up on him for yesterday’s lunch, but you’d be the first to admit that sharing that meal with Jungkook was still worthwhile.

Not only was the dish you ordered one of the best things you’ve ever eaten, it was also nice to see Jungkook loosen up a bit after feeling tense all morning because of his presentation. You liked that he’s being open to getting support from you, as it seems that he sees you now as more than just the assistant who’s there to serve him. He seems to appreciate your thoughts and didn’t even act bitterly when you gave him unsolicited advice. You feel even more that your relationship improves daily.

That is, until you enter his penthouse this Wednesday morning with barely a look of acknowledgement from him. Going through your routine, he doesn’t say much; he stays silent the entire ride to the office as well.

When you enter his room to serve his coffee, his furrowed brows have returned and his jaws are clenched as he types away on his desktop.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, his voice stern once again.

You turn around to face him, wondering what has happened since you left the office yesterday.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“I just wanted to raise that while I understand you have personal relationships with other employees, I do not appreciate you divulging the topics of our meetings with them. Even if they’re my friend as well.”

His last sentence gives away who he’s talking about, and the conversation with Yoongi after you canceled your lunch plans with him rings in your head.

It was a harmless statement, you want to say; you didn’t share any more than it being a meeting about his presentation. There was no ill-intent in you telling Yoongi why you couldn’t see him for lunch. But you choose to pass up on reasoning with Jungkook. He builds his wall up even more when you do, and you don’t want things to be that way again, not when they seemed to be going okay already these past few days.

So you nod and concede. “I understand, Mr. Jeon, and I apologize. I won’t do it again.”

Jungkook can’t help but just look at you, internally smacking himself as your face falls further and as you, once again, feel far away because of his own stupidity.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

He shakes his head no, and you bow in response, heading out, with the sadness in your eyes as the last thing he sees.

Jungkook is unable to focus on his emails and the conference call he takes part in. The words and thoughts are all jumbled when he practices his presentation, as his gaze constantly flits to your spot just outside where you sit, doing your tasks while looking detached and dejected.

He assumes you didn’t come to work expecting to be called out the way he did with you, which in hindsight, didn’t seem necessary, especially knowing how it’s affecting you right now. Things were going well between both of you after all - he’s being more open and you’re being more comfortable. Information was flowing smoothly, and communication has improved. And he just went ahead and screwed all that up.

Jungkook starts to feel stuffy. He’s been in his office working on things for the Arts Center and practicing most of the day, with you only coming in to bring the lunch he’d asked Mr. Ri to buy and his cups of coffee. You’ve avoided his gaze and haven't said much to him, too.

He decides to take a walk outside. The outdoor space on this floor has nice benches and a small garden that overlooks the Han River. He’s seen the team eat there sometimes, and while the weather may be a little too hot for it, he’d much rather breathe in the air than his humidifier.

But as he takes his time to open the door, he hears a familiar voice from outside.

“Fine, if you won’t take the sandwich, at least take the noodles,” Yoongi says. “You’ve been craving that all weekend.”

“Not anymore,” you huff, seemingly annoyed.

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Yoongi asks, calm and understanding in tone, traits that Jungkook could only hope to have.

“No… I don’t know,” you sigh. “Just that, whatever I talk to you about or mention, other people don’t need to know them, okay? No matter how harmless they are. Let’s just… not talk about work stuff. Especially in the office. That’s it.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

“What do you—”

“Mr. Min,” Jungkook calls out, fully opening the door now. “I have design guidelines I need you to go over. I need them by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Jungkook,” Yoongi bitterly replies, knowing what’s happened. “Just send them over to me.”

“Ms. Cho will do that right now.”

You nod in acknowledgement of Jungkook’s instruction and remain focused on your desktop. There’s silence in the air and tension that you can’t deal with right now.

“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Min?”

“Nah. If I do, I’ll check with your boss first if I can ask you for it. Don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

You finally look up at him, a tinge of annoyance painting his face, a rarity since Yoongi doesn’t seem to ever be irate about anything.

“And I’ll just take this jjajangmyeon if you don’t want it,” he adds, taking the container that’s on the ledge of your desk with him, before walking out of your area.

You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. You really love that noodle house’s version and you’ve been craving it for days. It’s where you and Yoongi were both supposed to have lunch yesterday but Jungkook spoiled it, and it wouldn’t have mattered as much, until it became a reason for him to be upset with you again. You’re not exactly sure why, but much as you want to question your boss this time, you don’t have the energy for it. It doesn’t seem worth it, but it also doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi might have said something to Jungkook, and that’s a dynamic you’re still unsure how to read or deal with.

Your gaze shifts to the man himself, who looks less annoyed than he did at the start of the day. You don’t know how his practice has been going, since he hasn’t asked you to run it with him, but you suppose he’s doing alright. He’s been in his room all day doing that and taking calls in between.

Jungkook looks away and heads out. He lets the summer air clear his mind a little before he goes back inside. It’s 6PM by the time he emerges from his room, surprised at seeing your face still buried in piles of papers.

“Ms. Cho, I’ll be heading to Hoseok’s for dinner,” he says, getting your attention. “Anything that needs my signature or approval can wait tomorrow.”

He hopes you’ll read through his words, as he wishes you’d take a rest yourself, like you advise him to do.

“Finance needs your expense reports first thing tomorrow morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a little too stoic than he’s used to. “These can be signed tomorrow when you arrive.”

Jungkook just nods, knowing there’s not much he can do if you don’t want to go home yet. But he does leave you with a reminder.

“Ms. Cho,” he says before leaving. He’s met with curious eyes that he tries not to fall into. “Make sure to eat a proper dinner.”

He walks out too quickly, not wanting to see your reaction.

You’re too tired to react, but that just pushes you to finish all your work and head to the pantry for some biscuits. It’s then that you see the paper bag with a note on it.

For ___. Do not touch!

At the back, Yoongi writes, I’m sorry. Here’s a man who knows how to apologize, you think to yourself.

The bowl of jjajangmyeon is inside, as well as a container of gimari. The scent reminds you of how hungry you are, so you heat up the noodles and inhale your dinner as you stand by the table. The empty office and the faint sounds of the air conditioning make you think of how alone you really are - working past your hours on a Wednesday evening, a takeaway meal from a friend you’re pushing away, and a stressful trip back to your empty studio apartment.

You rarely ever feel lonely. You don’t equate being alone with that specific emotion or state. There’s certainty and clarity you get from being on your own. But on certain days, you let yourself crack a little and be vulnerable. On certain days, you let yourself admit that being alone makes you feel lonely, and that at this precise moment, it’s exactly what you feel.

You send Yoongi a message of thanks but don’t extend the conversation after he replies. You know it isn’t his fault, and knowing him, he wouldn’t have deliberately said anything that would’ve put you in this position. It could just be Jungkook misconstruing things, but you’ve been caught off guard and you don’t feel like dealing with anyone right now.

Resuming your work, you do your last review of the expense report and leave it on his desk for his signature in the morning - a struggle considering how messy it is, which is also a rarity, as he always likes to keep things organized. You can tell how stressed he is just by this, and the thought hits you again that it’s the Board meeting in two days, and he needs you to be your best for him; he needs you to be calm and stable for him.

Whatever you’re feeling can be pushed to the side until next week. You’ll talk to Yoongi after all this is over, you tell yourself; it’s more important that you focus on your tasks and just act as professionally and as unbothered as possible.

That proves to be easy early the next morning. You go about preparing Jungkook’s day in his penthouse, going over your coordination and organization of the upcoming events and acting as if what happened yesterday doesn’t bother you, with him not acting out of the ordinary, too. It’s easy when you get to the office as well. He signs off on the expense reports and you go to finance with only minimal clarifications needed.

But when you return to your desk and Jungkook calls you to his room, you feel the tension start to build as you find Yoongi seated on the chair, his face turning sullen at the sight of you.

You nod at him but look away immediately, shifting your gaze towards Jungkook.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Jeon?”

“Deciding on the pieces to be displayed in the event halls of the Arts Center,” he replies. “Artist Lee Jaemin gave us her portfolio for us to choose from. And I’d like you and Yoongi to work on it together before lunch.”

This prompts you to look at Jungkook in surprise. He just told you off about the things you told Yoongi - which, to your defense, wasn’t even anything substantial - and now he’s making you work with the man.

“What about the run through of your presentation, sir?” You ask.

“I’ll do it with Manager Lee. His feedback will be adequate,” Jungkook replies. “I need your options because I’ll be speaking with her tonight about the chosen pieces.”

“I…, uh,” you stutter. “In what way can I be of help, Mr. Jeon? Wouldn’t Mr. Min be enough to make those decisions?”

“You hold the budget, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you. “We need to make sure we follow it. And you and Mr. Min understand my vision more than anyone and I need both of you to bring that to life with those artworks. I’m packed with meetings today so I don’t have time to sort through all of them. I trust that you’ll make the best decisions.”

“Of course we will, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, a bit of bitterness laced in it. “___ and I work well together. It isn’t the first time.”

Jungkook merely nods, and you feel the tension build up even more as both men share hardened looks that you can’t particularly decipher.

“I… I’ll go ahead and prepare the conference room. I shall see you there shortly, Mr. Min.”

You exit the office and breathe a sigh of relief from being out of there. You don’t know what their friendship is like, so you’re unsure if the tension is a sign of something serious or if it’s just a normal thing for them. You choose to brush it off for now and prepare for the meeting, walking to the pantry for a cup of tea before you do.

Back inside, both men remain unmoving, their gazes not faltering away from each other. Yoongi’s look of displeasure is a contrast to Jungkook’s somber, almost guilty face.

“Driving a wedge between us is kind of an asshole move, you know?” Yoongi finally says. “I don’t know what your deal is but this isn’t how you make it up to her. You don’t get to be nice one day then just decide you’ll be jealous and irrational the next without her even knowing what she did.”

“That’s… that’s not what I was trying to do,” Jungkook reasons.

“Then what were you trying to do?” Yoongi scoffs. “I was the one she turned down to have lunch with you. Actually, it was her plan, because she’s been spending so much time alone and she just wanted to hang out with a friend. And not only did you hinder that, you also made her feel like she did something wrong when all she said was that you had to talk about the Board meeting. No one would even bat an eye. Now she can’t even talk to me properly without fearing it’ll hurt your fragile ego.”

The truth is a huge slap on Jungkook’s face, and he feels it sting. He’s seen your comfort around his friend a few times. He also knows that Yoongi has been looking out for you when you fail to take care of yourself. And because of that jealousy and his fragile ego, you might just end up pushing Yoongi away, and isolating you is the last thing Jungkook wants to do.

He tries to say something but his throat dries up, knowing that verbalizing anything would prompt him to face feelings he’s trying so hard to suppress. He hopes Yoongi sees right through him, and the sullen look of the older man says he might.

“You’re not a bad person, Jungkook,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know what about her makes you like this. But if all you’ll do is find fault in everything she does, you’re gonna lose all the progress in your relationship. And you've got to know that’s not fair to her. You know she doesn’t deserve that.”

“She doesn’t.”

It’s the way Jungkook says the words that Yoongi knows his friend regrets what he’d done, perhaps not just yesterday but the other times as well. There’s this emptiness in Jungkook’s eyes that Yoongi hasn’t seen before; he doesn’t want the younger man to drown and lose himself in it.

“I’m… I’m, uh—”

“I know,” Yoongi interjects, knowing how hard it is for Jungkook to verbalize what he feels. “And I forgive you. I suggest you find the words and say them to her. Yeah?”

Jungkook merely nods, knowing that would be difficult for him, not because he won’t mean it but because they mean so much more. With you, it always does.

“I’ll head to meet with her now.”

“Please fix it,” Jungkook almost pleads. “I think she needs you.”

Yoongi gives a look of understanding then heads out to the conference room where he finds you seated already. The lights are dim, allowing him to see Lee Jaemin’s art pieces projected on the wall. You’re focused on your laptop screen, not budging even as he opens the door and sits next to you.

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks, urging you to look at him.

“No,” you say softly.

“Then why do you act like you still are?” He asks sullenly. “You know I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault though,” you reply, finally turning to him, your own soft eyes mirroring his. “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“But I want to. Because I know it matters that you hear the words even if they’re not from the person who needs to be saying them.”

“You know he doesn’t do that,” you sigh, knowing exactly who he means.

“He’ll have to learn how to. Or just stop having a reason to apologize in the first place.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shrug. “But I’m sorry, too. I just didn’t know how to act yesterday and earlier. I just didn’t want any more drama.”

“I know, and it’s okay. It’s not your fault either. I had to call him out for it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I called him an asshole.”

“You–what?”

“Well, sort of. He had to hear it, and it seemed like he knew it, too. That's why he wanted me to fix things. Not that anything was broken, as far as I know.”

“Is that why he made me meet with you?”

“Yes, about something that he and I could easily do over coffee or a meal,” Yoongi chuckles. “But like I told you before - he tries. It’s usually just a misstep or something more complicated than actually saying sorry.”

“It’s hard for him to say, I guess. Maybe he just has his own ways of saying them.”

“It’s still not an excuse to be an asshole though.”

“At least you’re there to call him out for it,” you chuckle.

Yoongi laughs along, knowing it’s a role in Jungkook’s life that he wouldn’t mind taking. And just like that, the tension between the two of you is gone. He throws in a few jokes in there that take seconds for you to process, and it’s his crinkled smile that makes you smile and feel comfortable as well. It’s the icebreaker you need before getting to work, and it takes you both until lunchtime to decide on which of Lee Jaemin’s pieces you think would fit well in the event halls that Jungkook wants to put them in.

It’s a different experience for you, as you’ve never made decisions like this before. You wouldn’t say you’re artistic in any sense, but Yoongi’s approval of your choices and agreement with your reasoning make you feel that you aren’t as design-blind as you think. And while Jungkook has the final say - you’re not even sure if your choices would make the final cut - it’s still satisfying to see the empty spaces come to life on your screen with artworks that you chose with Yoongi, while still being within budget.

You both walk back to your work area where you see Manager Lee, and he tells you that Jungkook seems ready for tomorrow’s Board meeting. You enter his office with Yoongi, presenting what you’ve come up with - the greens and pinks common in her pieces give the room so much life, and the imperfections of her subjects leave viewers with much to admire. From the tropics to intimacy, the bright yet muted palette of the images elicits both joy and loneliness.

Jungkook goes through them while you and Yoongi look on.

“I’ll check each piece again later,” Jungkook says. “But these look good; I’d choose these myself.”

“___ chose most of them,” Yoongi says, earning him a glare from you.

“Is that so, Ms. Cho?” Jungkook asks.

“Mr. Min helped. And those pieces just spoke to me, I guess,” you answer shyly. “They’re beautiful pieces, Mr. Jeon. But I don’t have any arts or design background so please feel free to change them.”

“We’ll see,” he says, looking at you with a kind of affirmation that you’re not used to.

You nod in response and check the time. He’s got another meeting in an hour and he should be having lunch soon.

“What would you like to eat, Mr. Jeon? I can get it for you,” you say.

“No need. I asked Mr. Ri to get me something. I figured you might have lunch plans,” Jungkook responds, glancing at you and then Yoongi.

You look at the man next to you, who motions towards the door and you get what he means immediately.

“Okay, Mr. Jeon. I’ll go take my break now.”

You walk out with Yoongi who asks you what you’re craving, and sweet and sour pork comes to mind. He chuckles at your excited face, and you grab your purse and head out, turning back once to catch Jungkook watching you walk away.

Maybe this is his apology. In whatever form it is, you’ll take it. You find sometimes that the silence in place of words means a lot more, in ways that feel more.

The rest of your afternoon again feels like a blur, as you meet with the support team about the upcoming events and make sure everyone is on the same page. You spend an hour on the phone with Lucas about some Singapore and Malaysia-based Korean artists who are flying for the project launch in a few weeks while Jungkook goes from one virtual meeting to another.

It’s 5:30 before you know it, and you’re working on your spreadsheets when Jungkook walks out of his office, saying that he’s meeting with Lee Jaemin later in the evening and that he’ll just update you about the final pieces.

You acknowledge him and wish him goodbye, but he stops on the way, at the entrance towards the hallway, making sure he remains present while unable to see you.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, surprising you.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“About what I said yesterday, I apologize,” he says, almost stuttering. “Especially if it caused a rift between you and Yoongi. I didn’t intend that.”

You’re too shocked to say anything, much more process the words that you can’t believe he’s saying. But he really is apologizing; he really is trying.

“It… it’s okay, Mr. Jeon. I understand.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re left to observe him from this angle - jaws clenched, head bowed down.

He deeply exhales. “I’ll go now. No need to stay late; you can go home when you’re able.”

“Okay, sir. Have a good night.”

He finally leaves, and the silence engulfs you. Sometimes, words in any form truly matter. You could only hope that Jungkook knows that.

The suit that you choose for Jungkook for today’s big day is a dark gray textured piece. He looks immaculate as he stands before you, and you try your best to even your breathing as you fix his tie like you do every morning. There’s something about him today that makes him more handsome than usual - a quality that you’ve found yourself admitting and accepting more easily as the days go by. He exudes a certain kind of confidence and power with his attire and his parted hair. There’s determination in his eyes as he stands tall, ready to face the day.

And you’re there, admiring the way he carries himself just inches away.

You fix the collar of his suit and make sure that all creases are flattened. You meet his eyes and the confidence melts away a little.

“Do I look respectable enough?” He asks, a little less serious than you expected. It’s when you see the nervousness in his eyes that you know how important today is for him.

“Yes,” you assure him. “You also look ready to impress the Board members with your presentation and get them on your side. I’m sure your vision about the Arts Center will make them believers.”

“Ah, well, that’s asking for too much, I guess,” he laughs dryly. “But I was on the call with Lee Jaemin last night and she was so excited for the launch. It would get her to visit Seoul often, she said, and that made me realize that artists like her and the consumers, the ordinary people, the ones who the Center is for - they’re the ones who matter. It’s their interest and appreciation that I value, not the Board’s.”

“That’s a good realization to come to, then, Mr. Jeon,” you smile, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing a different man - someone who cares about meaning and the power of art. “I suppose if that’s your mindset coming into the meeting, then you’ll definitely do well.”

“I think if there’s at least one other person who ends up believing in the value of the Center, that would be enough for me,” he says, holding your gaze for a while before turning away. “But uh, today is more than that. You and I both know they’re there to assess my capabilities - social and otherwise - and definitely point out what I lack, or probably tell me I’m not cut out for this job or that I’m terrible or something. I mean, you would know, right?”

His eyes, focused downward, slowly shift to you. You know what he means, and given that he isn’t the type to admit to things, this is probably the only other time that he comes close to acknowledging how he was to you.

“Mr. Jeon, if you’re indeed terrible, I would have quit after a week. Or… well, after the second day,” you admit.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I couldn’t afford to,” you chuckle to ease the tension. “But also I… I saw the change. And that’s always a good thing. Lacking something is normal. We all have things we need to work on but that doesn’t make us terrible people. That just means we need a bit of understanding from others. And that also means we just have to keep trying to be better.”

There’s a sullenness in Jungkook’s eyes but there’s acceptance and understanding, too. Perhaps it’s the most sincere you’ve seen him look, and of all the days that he needs assurance about how he’s been, today is when he needs it the most. Sure, there are still things about him that you wish he’d work on. He’s still not the best person in the world. He could still be a bit impulsive with you and can sometimes be irrational in your eyes and definitely needs work on dealing with his emotions. But he’s trying. That always counts for something.

“We do,” he nods.

“Your father believes in you. Hoseok believes in you, so does Yoongi.” Holding his gaze, you add, “so do I. So trust in yourself. If you can’t do it for you, you can do it for us.”

“Is giving pep talks part of the job description?”

“It should,” you giggle. “But I’ve given several of them to Mr. Jung. I’ve learned that during stressful moments or just when we’re a little overwhelmed, it makes a difference to hear the things we already know from someone else.”

“I’m a little stubborn, but I hope you continue doing that for me. For as long as you think I deserve it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know where the honesty and vulnerability are coming from. But he’s found that with you, it’s natural - difficult because they’re things he rarely is around other people, but natural. He doesn’t want to question it anymore for fear of learning what else is instinctive for him when it comes to you. But with the way his insides melt with how you sweetly and assuringly smile at him, he realizes that his defenses against you are not that strong to begin with.

“Well, we don’t have time to pass by a cafe for a nice breakfast so I asked Mr. Ri to get some instead,” you announce, changing the subject now.

You walk towards the dining room where he follows, and you present a spread of pastries, walnut tarts, and sausage rolls alongside a large cup of coffee.

“I don’t really eat before a big meeting,” he says, frowning a little. “I’m sure Lucas told you that.”

“He did, but I’m a little stubborn, too,” you counter. “Breakfast is important before a big meeting, Mr. Jeon. It’ll help you focus, even if that’s just one tart or half a danish or a quarter of a roll. Eating will improve your energy levels and lift your mood. It might help ease your nerves somehow.”

“Fine, but I’ll just have half a roll.”

“No worries. You can always eat some more throughout the day,” you say.

Jungkook ends up finishing the entire roll and a walnut tart, while you finish a danish and settle for tea. You pack up what’s left, and he instructs you to give the rest to the team.

The car ride is quiet, save for the gentle sound of his pencil gliding through the pages of his leather notebook. He seems to be channeling his energy in a way that allows him to be calm, you think, and that’s a good thing.

You arrive at the building and Jungkook goes straight to his office while you excuse yourself to go to the conference room to help the other assistants prepare it. You don’t see Jungkook until an hour later when he enters, and you lead him to his seat then serve his coffee afterwards. It gets busy quickly as the Board members arrive, and you help in ushering them to their seats and catering to their needs. Before you know it, the assistants are heading out, leaving them and the executives to discuss confidential matters that none of you are required to know.

It’s another two hours before the presentations start, but Jungkook won’t go until after lunch. So you settle in your desk and work on various things, unable to fully focus because your mind constantly goes to him.

This is normal, you convince yourself; you had the same nervous energy for Hoseok the first time he did this. But then again, it was your first time, too. Perhaps it’s knowing how much it means to Jungkook and his own worries that makes you feel uneasy.

You understand the feeling of wanting to prove oneself, and not always being able to fully express that desire to others. He’s been honest with you recently, and sometimes it can feel quite isolating when no one is there to share the burden, which is why you’ve been trying to cheer him up and encourage him, in hopes that he’ll feel supported, that whatever happens today, he knows he has you on his side.

You proceed to the function hall for the catered lunch where you meet Jungkook. He shares the table with Hoseok and Bitna, as well as Ji-woo and her assistant, and you engage in conversation with them like old times.

Jungkook watches you speak to his cousins casually but respectfully, and he doesn’t miss the inside jokes and personal details that you all share. You still look a little reserved, but there’s this comfort in the way you express yourself around people who trust and care for and respect you.

He’s always known Hoseok and Ji-woo to be great with the employees, and a part of Jungkook envies that they’re able to just share parts of themselves with others, that they’re able to expend their time and energy being around them, something that’s always been difficult for him. He likes his privacy, likes his own space; he revels in the silence to battle the noise in his head. He’s protective of his thoughts and his feelings; he’s particular with who uses his time and energy on; he keeps his distance because it’s always easier - to not be involved, to not be invested, to not be known at all rather than be judged because of what people know.

He also thinks it’s quite isolating. Outside of his family - whom he keeps his distance from as well - the only person who knows him enough is Lucas, but it’s as shallow as just knowing his preferences and his technical opinion on things, not his dreams or fears or everyday thoughts and emotions.

Jungkook isn’t someone that people go to for advice or for encouraging words; he’s not someone that people ask about how he’s doing; he’s not a person that others seek for comfort or warmth. He’s just a man who does his work, that people serve, that people want approval from for their own gains. He’s not someone they’d go through lengths for. He just takes up space that others orbit around but he’s not the center of their world; he isn’t anybody’s.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Jeon?” You disrupt his thoughts. “Is there anything you want?”

“Chocolate milk,” he says too quickly. “Uh, only if there is.”

“Hot?”

“Yes.”

You call the server and ask if they have any, but the man says they don’t, so you decide to head to one of the stalls at the food hall downstairs.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says, pulling your wrist in reflex as you stand up.

You’re caught off guard and so is he, and he immediately lets go and apologizes for it. The guilt in his eyes is similar to the one you saw at the restaurant when you’d admitted that he made you feel uncomfortable, and something about it makes you feel moved.

“I mean, uh, it’s okay. It’s not urgent,” he adds, looking away.

“If it’ll help, then I should get it for you, Mr. Jeon,” you insist. “It won’t take long. I’ll be back before lunch ends.”

You don’t wait for a response and head out, leaving Jungkook with curious looks from his cousins.

“So, I see you’ve warmed up to her already,” Ji-woo hums, smiling.

“You could say that,” Jungkook shrugs, acting nonchalant.

“Well, it’s about time you did,” Ji-woo shakes her head. “She works incredibly hard and she’s very reliable.” At the younger man’s nod in agreement, she adds, “you just had to give her a chance. There’s a reason why uncle and Hoseok wanted her around for you.”

“I guess,” Jungkook hums. “She’s… she’s a good person. I don’t really know if I deserve that but she is to me. She’s required to be, I suppose.”

“Or she sees you as a human being who needs a bit of warmth and joy in his life,” Ji-woo suggests. “Kindness goes a long way, you know? She’s said before that there are people who have extended it to her and maybe she’s just doing that, too.”

“Or maybe she sees something in you,” Hoseok says now.

“Like what?” Jungkook scoffs, knowing himself that after he’s treated you, there’s no way you’d see something in him, whatever that is.

“Like an emptiness, or yearning. Something she feels, too,” Hoseok responds. “Maybe she’s unknowingly making you feel something that she wants to feel herself, you know? I had A-yeong, my sister, my parents, my friends... Seeing her now with you, she didn’t pay attention to my every need the way she’s doing now, and that’s not a criticism of her. Perhaps she just knew that I had other people to do that.”

“And I’m the lonely, single, friendless man that she’s stuck with,” Jungkook laughs dryly, although he’s not offended. Deep down, he knows it’s true.

“Sort of,” Hoseok chuckles. “But what I really mean is that she knows what it’s like to not have someone to look after her like that. You may think it’s just her job but I think it’s her not wanting you to feel like there’s no one there for you. Maybe if you see it that way, you wouldn’t think you don’t deserve it. Then you can accept it and maybe you can do the same.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jungkook counters, given that keeping his distance is exactly what he plans to do because any closer would just lead him down a path that he won’t be able to escape from.

“It’s not that deep,” Ji-woo says. “I think what my brother is saying is that it’s okay to be friends, you know? Or just allow her to be nice to you and then return the favor. It’s a much better dynamic. I mean, I’m sure he’s told you but things are just gonna be more challenging down the road, once you’re past the adjusting phase. You’ll need her like you’ve never needed anyone before. I do mean that professionally, but that also requires a kind of relationship where you know and trust and respect each other. It goes both ways.”

Jungkook takes in his cousins’ words, knowing that they speak from experience, and they’ve been doing this longer than he has. He already knows he needs you. That itself terrifies him. He also knows he has to rely on you, and maybe that entails allowing you to care for him in ways that no one - not since Chaerin, at least - has ever done before. That means letting you come close, allowing you to know him, letting you be there for him. Doing the same for you isn’t a question of whether he wants to or not - he’ll probably be denying it to his grave, but it’s about whether he can remain within the boundaries he set for himself, knowing already how you affect him without even doing much.

The thought gives Jungkook a headache, but it’s not something he can give attention to right now. He’s got a presentation to do in less than an hour. He’ll be scrutinized and questioned and probably judged and then he realizes it again - he needs you through all that. He already knows you’ll be encouraging and supportive; you’ve shown that in the past week especially, and he’s appreciated and hated every single moment of it.

The hurried footsteps signal that you’re back, and you take your seat next to him.

You’re panting as you place the cup on the table. “Here you go, Mr. Jeon. I’m not sure if it’s as milky as you want it but the really good cafe downstairs said it should be good. Oh and uh, wrap your hands around it,” you instruct, earning you a curious look. “Your hands are very cold.”

Jungkook does as you say, feeling the warmth of the drink through his skin, even more when he takes a sip and finds that it tastes just as he wanted.

“This is good. Thank you,” he utters, not wanting to meet your eyes.

You exhale a sigh of relief. You know how he has particular tastes and you just went with a hot chocolate even if he specifically said he wanted chocolate milk. There’s a brand he likes from Lucas’ list and you didn’t have time to actually get it or even store the office pantry with it - which you realize now you should do, and you make a mental note of doing an inventory so you could request for more of the things he likes later on.

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “I… I hope it helps for the presentation. Or the nerves. Or just in general.”

“It has,” he confirms, humming with every sip.

Not long after, everyone is instructed to head back to the conference room so the meeting can resume. You take your seat with the other assistants at the side after you’ve ensured that the presentation is ready while Jungkook heads to the front. You watch him go through his notes a final time, and when he sets them aside and looks up, his eyes find yours.

They’re still tainted with worry, you can tell even from several feet away. So you give him a comforting smile, knowing it’s what he needs. You gently nod and give him a double thumbs up as if to say that he can do it, and he nods back, as if to say that he’ll do his best.

And that’s exactly what he does.

The presentation goes for a quarter of an hour, and while he does give a good rundown of the achievements of the past three months, it’s his pitch of the Arts Center that really makes him shine. The visuals are good to begin with. He did those blueprints himself and the designs give life to his vision, but he explains every aspect of the project with just enough detail to enable the audience to imagine how it looks and what it makes them feel. He took into consideration earlier worries about profits and brand reputation, as well as anticipated questions and points of attack, so he goes ahead and addresses them to the point that he can’t be scrutinized for anything that’s lacking. He keeps in mind the qualities of each Board member, so he makes eye contact if he needs to and acknowledges side comments and builds on them.

He’s definitely added more - and improved - since that first runthrough you did with him, and he looks very confident and very respectable. You can tell that he values not just profits but art itself - its creation, its appreciation, and the various ways it can be experienced. As someone who yearns for that kind of passion for something, seeing him like this is quite moving.

It doesn’t help that he looks as good as he does standing up there, and it’s a thought you let yourself have before dispelling it quickly.

He gets approving nods from most of the Board members. The rest still look a bit doubtful, but you suppose they wouldn’t directly criticize Jungkook and his plans in front of everyone after a presentation like that. You also take a peak at CEO Jeon who’s unable to hide how proud he is of his son. Hoseok and Ji-woo exchange smiles as well. But Jungkook remains focused, ready to answer any questions or comments from the Board.

Mr. Mun is the first to commend him and doesn’t ask much. Mr. Im surprisingly praises Jungkook after admitting his reservations, and Mr. Saito, as you expected, asks clarificatory questions that just builds on what was earlier presented. Jungkook’s readiness and creativity are highlighted as well, and you can tell that the older man is extremely excited for this project.

The hour is up before you know it, with only minimal questions and a few comments from the attendees. Ji-woo and Hoseok raise points to help with marketing and earning profit, and you take note of all those for discussion and debriefing next week.

Jungkook thanks everyone before returning to his seat, and you see the breath he lets out after, seemingly glad that that’s at least over. You catch his attention again, and you can’t help your smile. He acknowledges you with a nod, and he turns his focus towards Hoseok as the next presenter. The afternoon goes by like this, with Ji-woo going last and CEO Jeon closing out the meeting.

There’s some time before the fellowship dinner, which is spent with side conversations and check-ins. Mr. Saito goes to Jungkook right away and you see the latter’s face light up a little, although you don’t miss the sniffing and the throat clearing that he does. You think that his cold hands earlier weren’t due to his nervousness; perhaps the last month has finally caught up to him because you truly believe that this man does not rest.

You head out to return to your desk, knowing you’ve got several things to do before the dinner that assistants are invited to. You fly through your notes from earlier and some administrative tasks before heading back to the event hall where you find Jungkook talking to Mrs. Seo and Mr. Ong this time, two people who’d most likely be critical of him so you’re glad that he’s at least forging some relations, if their animated way of speaking is any indication.

You see him excuse himself to head to the washroom, and you take this time to order a cup of ginseng tea for him. It arrives just as he returns to his seat, and when it registers why you’d ordered it, he nods and mumbles his thanks.

“If I may, perhaps you shouldn’t stay long, Mr. Jeon,” you suggest. “It’s been a tiring week and you need to rest.”

Jungkook hates being told what to do, but he’s also never had someone tell him to rest because he needs it, much less even know that he’s not feeling alright.

“I need to engage with the Board,” he reasons. “I’m sure that’s what father would like. I can rest during the weekend.”

“Okay, sir,” you sigh, knowing he’s also right. Perhaps he’s accepted that this is a critical part of his new role as Vice President. “Just let me know if there’s anything more that I can help you with.”

“I will.”

You sit at the table where the other assistants are, engaging in hushed conversations as you talk about the Board members and how tired you all are. It’s nice being around them, as you all share the experience of stress and isolation, of knowing too much sometimes, of security and stagnancy. They know what you’re going through, partially at least - unlike you, they have people to go home to and proper hobbies that excite them. They have loved ones close by and things they look forward to during the weekends. So while they do make you feel understood, you also can’t help but be a bit jealous.

Your thoughts are suspended when Bitna offers to take you home. It’s well past 9 and you’re not keen on staying longer to drink with the rest of the big bosses here. You glance at Jungkook who has a wine in hand, clearly trying his best to keep up with the conversations he’s a part of. He looks incredibly tired - much more than usual - and you feel bad that this isn’t something you can help him with.

You take Bitna’s offer and you both head to your respective bosses to bid your goodbyes. Jungkook nods and mentions his meeting with the artist last night that he says he’ll discuss with you on Monday. There’s more you want to say, but you worry he’ll think you’re nagging about his health - which, you remind yourself, is also part of your job - and you don’t want to end the week on a sour note.

Jungkook watches you leave the event hall and he immediately feels your absence. Even when you spent much of your time apart, he could feel you there, partly because of the ginseng tea that you ordered for him twice at your insistence and partly because the knowledge that you’re around is enough. And now you aren’t, and he suddenly can’t stand any more of the socializing he has to do.

But he powers through it for another hour. When he bids his father goodbye, the older man commends him for his presentation earlier and the way he handled himself throughout the fellowship dinner. It’s assuring, but he knows there’s so much more work to be done so he doesn’t revel in it any longer than a few seconds.

The drive home is quiet. His soft groans as he massages his temples are the only sounds in the car. When he arrives at his empty penthouse, he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the counter and sits on the couch - a glass in hand, necktie and buttons undone, feet on the coffee table, and head rolled back as he reminds himself that he survived the day, that he did a good job, and that he changed some of the Board members’ minds about him.

And much as he tries to keep away the image of you, he’s unable to - there you were in the room, on his side, cheering him on. He didn’t miss the satisfied smile on your face once he finished his presentation, nor your look of worry after the ginseng tea was placed on the table.

You’re just good at that - making him feel like someone looks out for him, that someone else minds that he succeeds, that someone cares that he’s not well and that he should rest.

The smile on his face fades once he’s reminded that you’re supposed to do all that, and that he isn’t anyone special, nor should he be. It’s the thought that keeps him behind the lines - you’re unattainable in so many ways, yet he’s also glad that you are. It’s easier to be mindful of his place like that; it’s easier to accept that you’re you and he’s him, and it’s easier to do his job when he knows you’re just doing yours.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

But when he gets a call from reception the next morning about a package that you dropped off, all that wishful thinking seems pointless. And as he stares at the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him, all his thoughts from the night before come crashing down.

Why is everything so hard when it comes to you?

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driaswrld · 6 months

Text

cash in, cash out — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.7k

summary : the one where the boys pick the kids up, satoru loses his wallet, megumi almost throws up, the twins argue color theory, tsumiki gets the aux and suguru has a coupon.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : this had me cackling a bit as i wrote it i love the family dynamics esp since this is when the trio is new to the kid thing (around 2009) ALSO yes, suguru has a love for y2k girl groups : pussycat dolls being one of em don't @ me gege told me it's canon.

other : fem!reader, rs label undefined so can be read as platonic or poly (they're lowk dating w/o knowing) mentions of unsafe (?) driving?? mentions of bribery and also tomfoolery and shenanigans

current casette : father stretch my hands pt.1 - kanye west

“—now we do headcount.” Suguru turns in his seat as Satoru slows the car and shifts the gear stick to neutral. “If you’re hungry, say I!” Satoru raises a hand up, his knuckles smacking against the roof of the interior, and Suguru internally dies.

“You’re hopeless.” Tsumiki laughs to herself, rolling the window beside her down, leaning against the frame, spring breeze warming her cheeks.

“I…” Mimiko raises her tiny fist upwards, mimicking Satoru, all while Nanako unclicks their joint seatbelt and breathes a puff of air, exasperated and hair a mess.

Megumi grunts, giving a weak thumbs up. He almost looks like he’s about to throw up.

The car ride was… something to say the least—

“—buckle the seatbelt already, brat!”

“—swallow your spit before you talk, you pig.”

“Steer the car for me, Suguru.”

A click reverberates through the car as Satoru unclicks his seatbelt and turns, ready to dive out of the driver's seat and into the backseat of the car, with arms outstretched to grab ahold of six year old Megumi’s neck.

Suguru’s arm flails to the side as he steadies the abandoned steering wheel from the passenger seat.

“Why didn’t name pick us up?” Mimiko mumbles, clutching onto her strawberry colored doll to her chest.

Ignoring the repeated smacks of Megumi’s foot to the side of Satoru’s cheek, Tsumiki shrugs, gaze fixed outside the window at other cars passing by. “She had work, I think—”

“So we’re stuck with the idiots.” Megumi grunts, and Suguru’s head whips around, lips morphed into a thin line.

Pride, oh sweet pride. Nanako, busy typing away at some cute game on her tablet, looks up for a second and locks eyes with Suguru, who withers a little under her gaze.

“He called you an idiot, Geto-san.” She says, ever the little instigator.

“Take the wheel, Satoru.”

But anyways.

Satoru huffs, almost pouting as the car in front of them stalks forward into the KFC drive thru. “It wasn’t even that bad,” he murmurs as he shifts the gear stick once more, moving the car forward.

Suguru can only chuckle nervously. “Yeah, not too bad…”

Behind Satoru’s back, he gives the kids a funny look, and they all snicker quietly. Well, save for Megumi who’s bordering on car sickness from that messy car ride.

“Alright,” Satoru mumbles to himself before he pushes his sunglasses up to rest in his hair, one arm hanging out the window, looking over his shoulder for a brief moment to check everyone over. “What does everyone want off the menu?”

Honestly, he’s a little proud of himself and Suguru.

Usually, you’re the one who handles picking all the brats up after school, but somehow, the boys managed to do it.

Although, it did take a bit of crisscrossing with seatbelts shared in pairs of two— hey, at least they’re all in one piece, right!

“Twister!” Nanako exclaims with a grin and Mimiko nods along with her twin sister, setting her doll down in her lap with a smile that Suguru mirrors, something so small making him feel so… soft inside. “I want the one with the sweet flavored chicken inside—”

“I want the spicy one.” Nanako nods along, turning her attention back to her tablet, clicking away.

Satoru hums, turning his head a little to the side, and Tsumiki mumbles, “Maybe just a chicken sandwich… with some coleslaw too.” He looks to Megumi, who still has his mouth twisted into something between a frown and a pout, so cute—

“And what do you want, Megs?” Suguru asks before Satoru can, as the car treks forward in the drive thru line, drawing closer to the order speaker.

“Whatever Tsumiki gets, I’ll get that too.” Megumi shrugs a little and a smile stretches on Satoru’s face — though he hides it well, straining his head forward.

(Mimiko can see him through the side mirror but he doesn’t even remember that.)

After ordering and making it halfway down the length of the drive thru, there’s only two cars ahead until the pay window.

Suguru is helping Tsumiki plug the aux cord into her ipod touch — a birthday gift from Satoru.

“I don’t think the cord’ll fit,” Tsumiki mumbles, peering over his shoulder, head leaning against the headrest. “It’s probably too big or something.”

All while Mimiko and Nanako are arguing over a dress up game on their tablet.

“She looks better in purple—”

“But I like the yellow better—”

Megumi narrowly dodges Satoru’s elbow as he bends his arm to rummage through the storage compartment of the armrest.

“Don’t worry too much, Tsumiki—” He mumbles, haphazardly searching for another aux cable, and his wallet, because for some reason he didn’t feel it in his pocket just now. “Suguru’s good at making all kinds of things fit—”

A smack to the side of his head sends his sunglasses flying off his head into Nanako’s lap, and the twins share a look with each other. “We should try sunglasses on her—”

“I don’t want her to look like Gojo-san—”

Megumi snickers just as Suguru snatches the shorter aux cable from Satoru’s hand.

Tsumiki tilts her head to the side, a grin reaching her lips once Suguru finally gets the aux connected. “Hold on,” Satoru whispers to himself, shifting back in the driver’s seat and moving forward to take the place of the car that was just in front. “Suguru, I can’t find—”

“Check under your seat or something.” Suguru cuts him off, scrolling through the sheer ridiculous list of songs on Tsumiki’s ipod touch — most of which are Taylor Swift and a few J-Pop groups. “It’s not there.” Satoru huffs in defiance.

From where Megumi’s sitting slumped in the backseat, he can see the shadow of Satoru’s billfold laying under his seat.

Naturally, Megumi wants to watch him squirm a little. Afterall, Suguru told him to look there and he was too proud to, so…

Satoru’s phone vibrates from inside the open glove compartment where it’s charging.

“I’m sure I had it in my side pocket…” He mumbles to himself, and Suguru gives him a look of absolute defeat with a hint of nonchalance.

“Well I don’t have any money on me—” The timing couldn’t be worse really. “Of course you don’t. Because all of you freeload off me—”

Megumi rolls his eyes, “As if you don’t make six figures.”

The phone vibrates again, and it’s the least of Satoru’s problems, really.

“Is that all I am to you? Some bank?”

Because here he is, next in line to pay and he doesn’t have his card in his hand, Suguru is still flat broke as always, you aren’t here and it’s not like the brats in the back have a steady flow of income coming in.

Why didn’t he just set up his damn online accounts when you told him to?

“Maybe you should answer that,” Suguru shrugs, damn near unable to hide his little smile when he comes across a song by the Pussycat Dolls. He has half a mind to say out loud that he’s raising Tsumiki right.

The phone vibrates again.

“Satoru—”

“Jeez, fine, damn.” Satoru is shifting around in his seat like he’s possessed, patting down his pockets, all while the phone keeps vibrating.

He reaches over with a frown, yanking the charger out and answering the phone with a single tap and a curt, “I’m busy right now, what is it?" Putting it on speaker as he leans over in his seat again to search his pants.

“Hello to you too, sunshine.” Your voice echoes through the phone and Satoru winces, pink tinging the tip of his ears. “Sorry name, I just—”

“He lost his wallet and we’re going to starve.”

Megumi leans forward, sticking his head out and leaning against the passenger seat.

Tsumiki and Suguru stifle a laugh, and Mimiko lifts her head with a pout. “But— I don’t wanna starve!”

“Oh, Mimi…” You sigh, damn near ready to punt Satoru into the sun. “That’s not going to happen, Megs is just making fun—”

“I have a coupon for a biscuit from that magazine yesterday,” Suguru says and he locks eyes with Satoru who glares straight at him. “Hey, I’m just suggesting solutions!”

Shoko, who’s sitting beside you in the vacant classroom looks up from the mission report she’s signing up for the both of you and bellows a huge laugh. It really doesn’t help Satoru’s pride at all, and he grabs the phone, clicking it off speaker and hugging it against his ear.

Suguru watches as Satoru slumps in his seat, one arm hanging over the steering wheel and another out the window. A grown man, twirling the side of his hair and pouting.

He doesn’t even think twice before snapping the photo — he ends it off to the twins’ tablet, and they exit their game to open it, giggling into their tiny fists.

“name…”

“I’m not sending you money, Satoru—”

“Please! I promise I just misplaced my wallet,”

The twins pass the tablet over to Megumi who folds his lips to hide his laugh, nudging Tsumiki who leans over to giggle at the picture too.

“Pleaaasee! C’mon, I promise I’ll even set up my account like you told me to—”

Suguru sends a sneaky wink to the kids and they all burst out laughing, to which Satoru whips his head around, only to find everyone ducked down in their seats, suspiciously minding their own business.

Suguru’s even gazing out the car window, a guilty whistle leaving his lips.

“I let you two pick them up one time and—”

Satoru cranes his head out the window, his voice lowering to a whisper. “name, I’m begging you. This is a man’s pride we’re talking about here—”

“You can always use Suguru’s coupon—” You murmur.

“I’ll get a chocopie with your order.”

"I'm literally paying— hey, what do you take me for? I have some semblance of self respect—”

“Two chocopies and a twister.” He looks around before ducking his head again in a whisper, “I’ll even pay for all your meals this month— matter of fact, you can just take my card—”

“Two months, including takeout.” You grumble. “And add an egg tart, I’m sending the money to Suguru right now.”

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto #satoru gojo #gojo x geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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fidelishaereticus · 1 year

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so, old news obvious news blah blah, but i keep seeing people not getting this about my girl gideon nav so have to say: i think at first blush, people get the impression that Harrow’s got all the convolutions and layers and hidden vulnerability whereas gideon wears her heart on her sleeve and is just brazenly herself (a loveable rowdy himbo) & that’s the contrast. and yes, that’s there, but that’s not all. that dynamic itself is a part of their mutual (codependent) front, and like everything else in this book, it gets peeled back.

i think the real contrast is that they’ve both got masks, and those masks are complimentary. they’re both kids who never got a childhood. they grew up tortured in the same place from very different angles with no one but each other to butt heads against. they both had to play-act grown up versions of themselves with few models for what a well-adjusted adult even looked like. so it’s cartoonish. gideon is the plucky hero of her own adventure story that will totally have a happy ending some day, far far away from her nemesis whom she’s totally not in love with. harrow meanwhile (to grossly oversimplify) has to imagine herself as someone cruel and cold enough to cope with being alive at the price of 200 other people. these two things fit very well together. gideon can play the hero to harrow’s villain, and harrow can enact cruelty toward gideon to make herself feel strong and mean (and generally just to vent anguish). the way they hate one another is a kind of mutual protection - it re-enforces the self-image that each of them needs to get through the day. but that’s the coping mechanism. harrow the ruthless bones overlord. gideon the hapless swords idiot, who thinks of nothing but tiddies & sweet sweet vengence (harrow’s corpse in various states of disgrace ) all day. and behind that they’re both tearing apart at the seems beneath caricatures of themselves that are deeply unsustainable and neither of them feels safe letting on the extent to which that’s the case. their hearts are a goddamned mess. neither of them is wearing that shit on their sleeve. so yeah, there’s a lot more to gideon than being a swords himbo but that’s not the wild thing. the wild thing is she’s so convincing that she somehow manages to sell people on her no braincells act while being the pov character of entire first novel.

#[whispers] she doesn't want you to know she has enough braincells to feel trauma]#gideon nav #gideon the ninth #tlt #the locked tomb #come on guys #the himbo act is from the heart and that's why it's so convincing #but she's got a lot of other things going on and the scary thing is #she's capable of burrying them much deeper than harrow has ever managed to bury anything #if she ever decided to go Full Awful it would be truly terrifying & i think we're supposed to Feel That #[spreads hands at both gid's parents]#she's very like both of them and that should be an uncomfortable thought

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beom-pyu · 10 months

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i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a wife and "mrs" , cursing , playfully (?) threatening each other's lives , soft dom!beomgyu , sub!reader , pool sex , unprotected sex , marking , praise , creampie , cum eating , morning sex <3 , cunninglus (fem receiving) , overstimulation , dry humping , big dick gyu community please gather

a/n: another summer fic for you lovelies!! <3 i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it! (not edited yet!)

song recs: island - youha, spotless mind - jhene aiko, nature feels - frank ocean

wc: 10.7k+

[I THINK WE JUST GOT SCAMMED.]

“wait, wait, wait. you did what?”

you slowly lower your lukewarm cup onto the cafe table before taking out your airpods—no music is playing, but you want to be 100% sure you heard him right. your best friend shoots you a lopsided grin from across the table, stirring his drink with the chewed straw in between his fingers.

“i entered us into an exclusive giveaway for married couples to win a trip to greece for a week?”

one by one, you can feel your brain cells begin to die off at his words, your eye twitching while beomgyu smiles innocently at you.

“beomgyu, i’m going to ask you a simple question and i want a simple answer.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale for a second before meeting his eyes with the most exasperated gaze you've ever worn in your life. “why?”

the brown-haired boy is all too quick with a reply.

“why not?” beomgyu shrugs, his tiny grin morphing into something menacing on his lips—as if this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in all of his 22 years of life.

you have the sudden passing thought to throw your coffee at his face, but that’s a precious $6 you’d never get back, so you refrain from doing so. instead, you take a slow, deep breath and momentarily close your eyes. “god, if you’re out there, please, please give me patience.”

“i’m pretty sure the phrase is ‘god give me strength’,” beomgyu retorts from his seat across from you, sipping annoyingly on his nearly empty caramel frappe.

you blink at him once, twice. “if god gave me strength, you’d be in a casket right now.”

beomgyu simply cackles at your response, feigning a scared face with his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint before he continues to laugh at his own mockery. you kick him under the table, successfully wiping that wide smile off of his dumb face.

“what was that for?” beomgyu whines with a pout, reaching down to rub his shin. a few heads turn to see what the ruckus is about and you shoot them a polite, apologetic smile and bow before turning back to mr. drama queen. the kick wasn’t even that hard.

“did you even think about what would happen if we actually won? we don’t have the time nor the money for a resort in greece.”

“oh, calm down, y/n. you know no one ever actually wins those things, right? they’re all scams.” beomgyu waves you off with his hand before bringing the green straw back up to his lips, your ears bleeding at the sound of his obnoxious slurping. you can’t stand his face.

“and how are you so sure of that?”

“because i entered that nickelodeon giveaway thing when i was 11 and never heard back from them.”

you blink at him again, thrice this time—just in case you’ve been transported into a different dimension and a stupidity demon has possessed your best friend’s body. nonetheless, beomgyu is still grinning idiotically as he chews on his straw, tilting his head at you like a maltese.

“please be so serious right now.”

“i am! plus, even if we do win—which we won’t—and it’s not a scam… shit, that’s a free trip to greece!”

the joy on his face boils your blood to no end. he’s truly dense; you can’t believe you’re insane enough to call him your other half. everything on earth must be balanced out, you suppose—the yin to your yang.

“have you considered the fact that we aren’t married?” you cock your head at him, hands folded on top of the table, speaking slowly as if you’re talking to a child… hold on, wait—you literally are.

“shoot—could’ve fooled me!” beomgyu lets out a puff of laughter. “we might as well be.”

you blink at him again.

“please don’t ever say that again. i think i just threw up in my mouth.”

beomgyu rolls his eyes before snatching his phone out of his pocket with the speed of light to show you the flier he had screenshotted. he shoves the phone in your face, tapping incessantly at the bottom text of the photo.

“look. it says all expenses paid.”

you stare at him with a silent ‘so what?’ and beomgyu sighs dramatically as he lowers his phone. he has the nerve to be exasperated with you? you’ll never understand where men get the pure audacity.

“so you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t pretend to be my wife for a few days so we can get a free trip to greece?”

you look him straight in the eye. “beomgyu, i’d rather be burned on a stake.”

“yea, 'cause you’re a fucking witch,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to hold in his laughter. you don’t know how much more patience you have with him, so you simply exhale, checking the clock on your phone.

“i don’t have time for this—i gotta get to my lecture,” you huff out, standing as you grab your bag that sits by your feet. beomgyu pitifully whines, looking up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.

“would you seriously not do it?”

it’s now your turn to laugh, picking up your coffee to take a big sip. you’re gonna need the caffeine.

“those things are scams, gyu—you said it yourself! see you later.”

☆

nights are oh, so serene, you think, as your head hits your fluffy pillow later that night. you’re freshly showered and tucked under your covers, snug as a bug in a rug as you doze off to the lovely scent of your hibiscus air freshener and the quiet waves of your sleep sounds machine. there’s no need to count sheep—you’re completely drained from all of the walking you had to do today. all of your classes just so happen to be on opposite sides of the campus, and you’re sure your step counter is on the verge of exploding by now.

your mattress feels even comfier today, a slight breeze coming through your cracked window, balancing out the heat from your thick duvet. it takes no time at all for you to be tugged under by the lust of sleep, drifting off to a perfect dreamland full of bright colors and open fields and your blaring ringtone.

wait.

your ringtone?

you don’t even bother to open your eyes, patting around your bed for your phone before you feel the cool screen against your fingertips. it takes a few failed swipes to actually answer, mumbling out a half-asleep “hello?” as you lazily press the device to your ear.

“hi, my wonderful bff. my world, my girl, my bro, my home-shizzle! hypothetically, on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i told you that the greece trip thing wasn’t a scam? and that we won? and that we leave in 2 days? hypothetically.”

the silence is incredibly loud.

…

“eleven.”

[NEWLYWEDS.]

three months ago, if you were to tell yourself that you would be adorning a fake amazon wedding ring with your best friend’s arm wrapped around your waist as you stand inside some modern insurance firm being interviewed as a newlywed couple—well, you probably would’ve admitted yourself into the nearest asylum.

you don’t know what choices from your past led you to this moment, forcing a smile as a middle-aged woman with the cleanest-cut bob you’ve ever seen enthusiastically shakes your hand before moving on to beomgyu’s. he seems completely unfazed and the thought alone irks your soul to no end.

truthfully, this is all your fault. if you would’ve just told beomgyu that you are not going to pretend to be his wife for a week, you would’ve never ended up in this situation in the first place. but can anyone blame you when he offered to pay for your coffee every single day for the next 6 months, and wash your car, and take out your trash for as long as you ask him to?

right! any sane person would’ve said yes, too!

so here you are as mrs. choi (gag), laughing along as the lady cracks a few jokes, complimenting beomgyu’s silky hair and your bright smile before sighing dreamily.

“my goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest newlyweds i’ve ever seen! how many months has it been?”

beomgyu looks down at you with a soft smile; anyone who is meeting him for the first time would’ve taken the gaze as something filled with pure adoration and undiluted love… but you know him. you see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, the annoying quirk of his playful grin, and the pure amusement that washes over his features at your subtle glare.

he’s having way too much fun with this.

you pinch his side hard, a small bout of victory washing over you as he flinches.

deserved.

“we’re coming up on three months now?” beomgyu speaks through slightly gritted teeth before looking back up at the short woman, sending a charming smile her way. she squeals, bouncing on her heels and you bite back a grimace at the sheer volume.

“we decided to travel a bit before settling down and buying a home here in seoul,” you speak robotically, following the exact script you both came up with in your notes app on facetime last night. beomgyu hums in affirmation, tapping your side in a silent “good job”.

“awe! how sweet is that? what a wonderful idea to travel together while you're still young and nimble, unlike this old lady right here.” the lady honks out a laugh as she points to herself with her thumbs. you glance over at beomgyu who seems to be having the time of his life and—the regret of saying yes quickly settles deep in your bones. “you pair are such a lovely and beautiful couple!”

her high-pitched and overly enthusiastic voice pierces your ears and you can already feel the headache coming on.

“well, what can i say? it was love at first sight. i knew i had to make her mine and see the world with her as soon as possible,” beomgyu smoothly recites, gazing back down at you with the same look as before. you feel the bile rise in your throat. the words are so foreign to your ears, it’s almost jarring. the lady doesn’t even notice your discomfort and continues on and on about how cute you both are, how you remind her of her niece, and how beomgyu should totally be a model.

you force the fakest smile ever as beomgyu pinches your side, a cue for you to speak up. resisting the urge to punch him for pinching you (even though you had done it first), you simply nod along with an artificial laugh, your hand coming up to rest on his chest in faux infatuation.

ew.

“marrying beomgyu was the best decision i’ve ever made. i’ve never been happier.”

you swear you feel your eye twitch as the lady coos—she claps her hands excitedly, her short bob bouncing with the movement.

“how heartwarming! i’m sure this trip will bring you even closer, shedding a new light on the glitter of your love for decades to come!”

you and beomgyu are silent for a beat—because what the fuck is she even saying?—before awkwardly laughing, nodding along in hopes that she’ll wrap this up quickly. the lady’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as a stiffness fills the air, clapping her hands again as he ushers you two towards the lyft.

“better get a move on so you don’t miss your flight! i hope you have a wonderful time, lovebirds! and congratulations once again!”

the car is absolutely silent as you both settle in after all of your luggage is loaded up. beomgyu has this annoying, close-lipped smile on his face, his lips pursed like a duck—he’s so obviously trying to hold in his laughter as you grumble under your breath, snatching that stupid plastic ring off of your finger.

you glance at him before rolling your eyes. “go ahead.”

in the blink of an eye, his boisterous laughter fills the car, high and squeaky, and you silently empathize with the lyft driver who subtly turns the radio up to combat the intrusive noise. beomgyu’s doubled over, patting his leg as he gasps for air, eyes squeezed shut; and as much as you hate to admit it, your own lips quirk up into a small smile at the sound. curse your best friend and his contagious laughter.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” beomgyu heaves out before another round of giggles leaves his lips. he reaches up to push his hair out of his face before wiping at his eyes dramatically.

“i didn’t think i had it in me,” you agree, giving in to the grin that slowly spreads across your face. you make the horrible decision of meeting beomgyu’s eyes, and it takes less than a millisecond for you both to aggressively burst out laughing, bodies falling against each other's as your limbs grow weak.

“no, that was the funniest shit ever, i swear. we sold it.”

“for a second, i actually thought you were really in love with me.” your laughter slowly dies down as beomgyu lifts himself off of you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath. you’re sure you don’t look any better—you definitely have abs after all of that.

“i just had to pretend that you were i.u,” beomgyu admits with an overexaggerated dreamy look off into the distance. you’re quick to fall into another fit of laughter but for a different reason this time.

“i.u doesn’t date freaks.”

beomgyu’s lips dramatically pout as he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid, scoffing at your comment. “why do you always have to crush my dreams?”

“i don’t always crush your dreams. only when they’re stupid.”

“so… always?”

“no—yes.”

beomgyu’s quiet for a moment, turning his head to look out the window. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, but the expression quickly smooths out as he turns towards you, uncrossing his arms to play with the fake ring on his finger.

“i’m not taking the couch.”

“what?”

“it’s a couple’s suite. i’m taking the bed since i’m the one who entered us in the first place.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes again—your mother had told you that one day your eyeballs would get stuck in the back of your head, and right now, that idea didn’t seem so bad. beomgyu’s teasing smile is anger-inducing, and you think you might rip it off if you have to look at it any longer.

“what happened to chivalry? i’m your wife now, so as the man, you have to give me the bed.”

“fuck chivalry! you’re mean to me. i owe you nothing,” beomgyu huffs, squinting his eyes at you.

“i’m not mean to you,” you immediately defend, hitting his arm for even making such heinous accusations. beomgyu gasps, reaching up to hold his arm where you made impact.

“see? mean!” once again, the dramatics are almost admirable—there’s no way that hurt. he’s been hitting the gym with his roommate taehyun lately, and you’ve seen the way he’s bulked up from the scrawny shrimp boy he used to be in high school. if anything, the hit hurt you!

“let’s play rock paper scissors, then. two out of three gets the bed.”

beomgyu huffs, but obediently holds up his fist. “fine.”

three games pass by in a blur.

“you cheated!” he whines, pointing his finger at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“how did i cheat? just admit you suck ass, mr. couch.” your triumphant smile results in another whine from the loser next to you, putting his fist back up for a rematch. “no, i already won!”

“you’re lucky i love you.” beomgyu’s quick to give up, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the way you pretend to gag at his words.

those butterflies in your stomach are only because you skipped breakfast that morning—totally not because of the soft gaze he sends your way, mindlessly playing with the plastic ring on his finger as you two fall into a comfortable silence. totally.

☆

this sucks.

today is the first time you’ve ever ridden in first class, and you can’t even enjoy it because of the exhaustion running rampant through your veins. there’s a reason why you picked all afternoon and late night lectures; why you avoid any invitations to go out for breakfast with your friends; and why you have blackout curtains on all of your windows. you are not a morning person, whatsoever, and with that 8 a.m interview and your flight at 10 on the dot, you’re absolutely beat.

for starters, pretending to actually be in love with your best friend in front of a lady who cannot speak at a normal, human volume is more taxing than swimming from portugal to australia with no breaks. you swear. second, beomgyu has apparently never ridden an airplane before and therefore has no idea what airport etiquette is.

(“you have to put all of your electronics in the bins, okay?”

“when i go through the x-ray thing, will they see my underwear? oh my god, no, will they see my dick?”

“no, they won’t see your dick, beomgyu.”

“but how do you know they won’t see my dick? sick fucks.”

“they’re literally doing their job, beomgyu.”

“they can do their job without looking at my dick!”

“they aren’t going to see your dick!”

the lady in front of you covers her kid's ears as she shoots you two the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. you both bow in apology before you flick beomgyu on the back of his neck.)

you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch some marvel movie on the little screen in front of you, fighting to at least stay awake long enough to order dinner. it’s futile, though, because you’re already blacking out every few minutes, head lulling side to side like a bobblehead.

you finally give up the battle, reminding yourself that there will be endless food at the resort, so you settle yourself into your plush seat, resting your cheek against your neck pillow. from this angle, you have a perfect view of beomgyu who’s in the secluded seat next to you, and—oh.

he looks… he looks softer than usual, only illuminated by the natural light emerging through the circular windows. his hair is slightly mussed from his fingers, his long fringe hanging over his eyes in such a way that he has to keep shaking it out of his vision. he has his earbuds in, watching the sky through the tiny window next to him with his bottom lip in between his teeth—a habit he’s had since he was young. you know he’s thinking, lost in his mind abyss by the way his fingers fidget with the end of his shirt, his leg shaking incessantly.

“hey, gyu,” you call out quietly so as to not disturb anyone else around you. his music must’ve been turned down low, seeing as his eyes find yours at the call of his name, taking an earbud out to hear you better. “you okay?”

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s when he’s nervous. it shows with the way his leg doesn’t stop moving, even as he nods out a yes in reply to your question, seeing his jaw move as he grinds his teeth together.

“the plane keeps shaking,” he whispers, eyes wide and worried as a little bit of turbulence rocks the cabin right after he finishes speaking. even in your tired state, you can’t help but laugh softly at his animated expression, shaking your head.

“are you scared?” the teasing tone in your voice is apparent—beomgyu rapidly shakes his head in disagreement, but you see right through him as his hand grips the armrest, eyebrows knitted together. everything in your nature tells you to tease him, rile him up a bit, poke fun at him—but he genuinely looks concerned, and you’re too tired to come up with anything witty to say. instead…

“it’s just turbulence. you’re okay, gyu.”

you watch the way beomgyu relaxes ever so slightly, nodding his head as his grip loosens. you send him a little smile, not bothering to wait for him to smile back before turning your head the other way, finally letting sleep pull you under.

[FREE MARGARITAS.]

you don’t get a single moment to look around the resort because as soon as you both lug all of your things into your suite, you’re told a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the beach just down the hill has been reserved for you two as a welcome gift by the company. you’re not complaining of course, but you still would’ve liked to at least get acquainted with the area before indulging in everything.

it takes you an hour and a half to get ready; partially because beomgyu’s showers take forever. he’s in there singing along to some random 70s hits playlist, having the time of his life, while you take the time to look around the suite.

it’s huge, to say the least. a single pod building that sits on a hill full of others alike with pristine white walls and elegant decoration—it’s almost 3 times bigger than your own apartment and you can only imagine how much all of this would’ve cost. wide, open windows line the walls with marbled tile underneath your feet, the furniture ranging from white to beige to a palette of blues, mimicking the colors of the beach in the distance.

outside is a wide patio with a glistening pool and comfy lounge area, complete with a loveseat and a swing. it has the perfect view of the coast, the sun already lowering behind the horizon. it’s absolutely breathtaking, and you make sure to take plenty of pictures, even posting a few on your instagram story (without tagging beomgyu, because you’re pissed at how long he’s taking in the bathroom.)

by the time he comes out, his hair is blow-dried and pushed out of his face with a headband. he looks like casper the friendly ghost with the white facemask he adorns and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

you force yourself to dismiss the way he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, chest completely bare as he strides over to his suitcase—he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence as he pulls out the most formal thing he can find, dropping it onto the bed.

“you gonna shower or what?” he asks over his annoyingly broad shoulder, hands reaching down to undo the towel around his waist. a yelp leaves your lips at the sudden movement, covering your eyes as you rush towards the bathroom.

“you’re disgusting!” you yell before slamming the door shut, locking it for good measure. his cackles ring throughout the suite and you flick him off from behind the wall—he can’t see it, but you want to at least get it out of your system.

halfway through your shower, you realize you forgot to bring your clothes into the bathroom to change. you blame this all on beomgyu—half because somehow every inconvenience in your life is all his fault and half because you just want a reason to ignore the way you keep thinking about how toned he’s gotten recently. you mentally make it your mission to shut down every single gym in his vicinity.

you wrap your towel tight around your body before cracking the door open, the cool air from the a/c attacking your skin like icicles. poking your head out, you scan the room for any sign of your counterpart, but the room seems to be completely empty. you wait a few seconds, just in case he decides to make any unannounced appearances before deeming the room safe enough to enter. the coast is clear.

you rush over to your suite case, unzipping it to find an appropriate dress, deciding on a white one to match the white button-up beomgyu had pulled out. you grab your makeup bag, as well as your perfume and it isn’t until you stand back up to find refuge in the bathroom that you notice the figure in the doorway. you jump in surprise, a small scream escaping your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself defensively.

“you fucking stalker,” you huff as he doubles over in laughter.

“oh my god, you should’ve seen your face,” he gasps, holding his hand to his stomach as his entire body vibrates with cackles. despite the venomous glare you send his way, your eyes can’t help but catch onto the fact that beomgyu cleans up nicely.

you’ve gotten so used to beomgyu’s endless collection of sweatpants and hoodies that the thought of him looking like an a-list celebrity never once crossed your mind. the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, appropriately decorated with a few layered necklaces. it seems like he decided to trade out his usual dangly earrings and ear piercings for simple studs that shine when the chandelier above you hits them.

those black dress pants hug his legs in a way that makes you swallow, feeling your body grow warm at the way he tucks his hands into his pockets. he cocks his head at you curiously, a jesting smile on his lips—he looks infuriatingly good, to the point where you have to physically rip your eyes away from him.

“like what you see?” he badgers while he strolls into the room, as if he can see right through your little facade. you scoff, holding your stuff tight to your chest as you flee towards the bathroom again.

“what happened to privacy?” you make sure to completely ignore his previous question—he can tell all too easily when you’re lying, and you really don’t feel like being teased relentlessly tonight.

“what’s the issue? you’re my wife now, aren’t you?” his voice is provoking, playful as you burn through him with another intense glare.

“beomgyu, i promise you, i will drown you in that pool if you say another word.” and then you happily slam the door shut in his face.

“no, you won’t! you love me too much,” he singsongs from behind the door. all you can do is roll your eyes because—yes. yes, you do.

☆

you don’t think you’ve ever seen beomgyu act so… gentlemanly ever since he tried to get his 6th grade crush to like him back—but this time, without the weird phrases he stole from western movies and the electric blue braces that lined his teeth.

he’s committed to this husband act; pulling your chair out for you and pushing you in after you take a seat, kissing the back of your hand (you kicked him under the table at that), and even telling you that you look, and you quote, “absolutely stunning, baby.”

you hope your discontentment isn’t showing too obviously through your forced smiles and giggles, that plastic wedding band around your ring finger uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

you can’t deny the fact that the dinner is really nice, though. never in your life would you have thought you’d be drinking expensive wines and eating 5-star cuisine on a beach with your childhood best friend—you’re pretty sure 14-year-old y/n would’ve complained about how it should’ve been choi soobin from 4th period instead of beomgyu, but you’ll take what you can get.

in all honesty, it simply feels like a normal dinner out with your best friend. you both still laugh and joke as usual, reminiscing on the time when beomgyu forgot to take out his retainer before his band performed at the school festival in 10th grade, resulting in a slurred rendition of sk8er boi by avril lavigne and a crowd full of giggling onlookers. (if you had to threaten a few people to leave beomgyu alone about it afterward, then so be it.)

the thing is, it’s not hard to let go around beomgyu. you’ve known each other since you were in diapers; defending beomgyu from bullies in elementary, attending all of his self-made band’s concerts, and hanging out on your rooftop eating popsicles and gummy worms. you could complain all you’d like about his teasing, his constant, exuberated nature, and his inane questions, but there’s no one else that you’d put your life on the line for, other than the puppy-like man in front of you.

his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the candlelight as he rambles on about how he genuinely thought planes did a loopty-loop before taking off and your heart aches with a sort of warmth you’ve been trying to dismiss for so long.

the dinner ends all too quickly, and by the time you down your last glass, you realize you’re slightly tipsy. you’ve always been a lightweight, but you really didn’t think you drank that much—you must’ve been too distracted by beomgyu’s crazy stories to acknowledge the waiter constantly filling your glass after every few sips. at least it was free.

you slightly wobble on your heels as you take a stand in the sand, a little noise of surprise leaving your lips as a warm hand meets your hip, swiftly steadying you. you look down and automatically recognize the amazon ring, your head turning to meet beomgyu’s gentle eyes.

“don’t tell me i have to carry you all the way back.” and even though it’s a joke, there’s a layer of genuineness in his tone as you stumble again.

“‘m not that drunk,” you reply with the slightest of slurs, quietly giggling at the simple image of beomgyu carrying you bridal style to the bed. now that would truly sell the act, for sure. beomgyu shakes his head with a small smile, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist as he guides you back towards the suite, his touch firm and sturdy.

you’re almost across the beach when you stumble again, but this time, your heel actually gives out as you trip, a tiny yelp leaving your lips right before you hit the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact—but it never comes.

“yep. i’m carrying you.”

you crack an eye open to see beomgyu with an amused smile on his face, both of his hands holding onto your hips. turns out you weren’t even close to hitting the ground at all… okay, maybe you are drunk.

“piggy back ride?” you ask with a little giggle. you’re reminded of that time beomgyu had to give you a piggyback ride all the way back home from the park after you sprained your ankle trying to do a backflip off of the swing in elementary school. what a time.

beomgyu rolls his eyes fondly, but gives you a little nod, letting go of your waist to kneel down by your feet. “give me your foot.”

you give him a quizzical look, cocking your head at him in pure confusion before he pats his thigh, motioning towards your leg. still a bit out of it, you hold onto his shoulder as you lift your foot, feeling a weird sensation rush up your spine at the way he gently holds onto your calf to slip your heel off of your foot. he does the same to the other without a word, completely unfazed by the way your mouth remains slightly ajar in shock. his fingers are gentle and soothing against your skin, despite being mildly calloused from his guitar back home.

it’s enough to throw you off, swallowing as his eyes meet yours again. his eyes are incredibly soft as he smiles up at you—he motions towards his back with a quiet “hop on”.

you obey, only faltering slightly as your arms sling around his shoulders. with the new proximity, you can smell his cologne, something sweet and woodsy. his hands grab onto your thighs—one decorated with high heels hanging off two of his fingers—before hiking you up a bit. he begins walking, saying something about how he thinks there’s 10 tons of sand in his shoes by now—and if he notices you’re too distracted by his hands on your legs to process what he’s saying, he doesn’t mention it.

☆

the view is absolutely breathtaking through the glass tall windows of your suite, the rays bouncing off of the pool as you watch beomgyu wade in the water, his eyes shut. it’s weird seeing him like this—fully relaxed, calm, and still.

it seems like ever since you met beomgyu, all chubby-cheeked and busy-bodied, he’s always been on the move. whether it be to sprint down the road to meet you at the corner so you can walk to school together, or high in the air as he jumps on your trampoline… and even when his body is physically still, his mouth still runs a mile a minute, talking about anything and everything in the entire universe, letting his thoughts run wild around you.

as much as you truly do adore his silly side, him being the main reason why you were able to break out of your shell in the first place, you can’t help but be slightly fascinated with this alternate side of him.

it’s morning now; the yellowish-white hue of the blinding sun bounces off of his skin as he soaks up the moment, his brown hair getting so long it falls down the back of his neck in soft layers. you feel like a creep, watching him like this, but something about the entire atmosphere makes your eyes unable to look away as you slowly sip on the complimentary margaritas.

your best friend has always been attractive—that’s one thing you cannot deny. he’s had his fair share of flings, and partners (and even a throuple once) throughout the years while you’ve only endured a few situationships here and there. he’s been called handsome his entire childhood and well into his adult years, taking the compliment in stride. he never let it get to his head or fuel his ego, though; for some reason, that fact makes him even more appealing.

he’s always just been your best friend, and you both are incredibly okay with that label—you know each other best, and that’s all that really matters. never mind the way his eyelashes flutter like monarch butterflies, or the way his cheeks flush when it’s too cold outside, or the way his leg bounces when he’s excited or nervous, alike. you try to ignore the way his laughter always manages to make the sun come out, and the way he always orders for you at restaurants because he knows you aren’t a fan of talking to strangers, and the way he seems always to know what you need, right when you need it.

he’s truly the yin to your yang. but there’s something else bubbling under the surface that you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to acknowledge yet.

a loud call of your name grabs your attention, your vision focusing on a grinning beomgyu waving you down from the edge of the pool. you don’t even have it in you to huff at the prospect of moving from your comfortable lounge chair, standing up to make your way to the large patio. sliding the door open, you poke your head out, immediately feeling the muggy air of midday wrap around you like a heated blanket.

“get in with me! the water is super warm,” he calls, motioning you towards him with his arm, the action flicking water everywhere. you frown a bit, looking at the pool behind him before meeting his eager eyes again.

“you know i can’t swim, idiot.”

beomgyu’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as he shrugs, holding his hand out.

“then i’ll do the swimming for you.”

the offer is so light-hearted and casual—it shouldn’t make your heart lunge in your chest, your gut twisting with anticipation at the simple implications of his words.

you’re already in your bathing suit from the mirror selfies you took for simply the aesthetic—a simple blue bikini tied tightly around your frame. you really don’t want to waste your time here; when else will you get the chance to stay in greece for free with your best friend?

so you let your feet carry you to the stairs of the pool, your fingers wrapping around the metal railing as you slowly step in, foot by foot. by the time you’ve made it waist deep, you begin to feel the fear creep into your bones.

“i won’t let you drown, y/n,” beomgyu laughs as you suspiciously eye the deep end of the pool, unable to even see the bottom of it. your hand tightly grips the rail as beomgyu wades his way toward you, holding his hand out for you to take. “i promise. just hold on to me.”

you nibble on your lip as your eyes flicker down to his hand, feeling the water move gently around you. drowning has always been one of your biggest fears, and because of that, you’ve always stayed far away from any body of water capable of swallowing you up whole.

but beomgyu’s eyes are warmer than the water, the most delicate of smiles resting on his soft features. there’s no room to be scared—not with the way his hand is so grounding as you take hold of it, squealing a bit as he tugs you closer.

“do you trust me?” and when he speaks, his voice is just barely above a whisper, his face so close to yours that you can individually count his eyelashes. his margarita-tinted breath fans over your lips and you find yourself unable to cringe away, nodding cautiously in response.

your hands tightly grasp his shoulders as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he uses his other arm to swim deeper into the pool. his doesn’t let up, even slightly, his grip sturdy around your figure as he utilizes one arm to keep you both afloat.

“here, wrap your legs around me,” he speaks, tapping your thigh under the water. you’re sure your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, your mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish out of water.

“wha… huh?” you question oh, so eloquently, the rumble of beomgyu’s laughter transferring against your skin. his nose crinkles up in the way it always does when he finds something to be a bit too entertaining, his eyes forming those pretty crescent moons as his eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

“it’ll make this easier. i’m not trying to carry a dead weight,” beomgyu speaks as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. you’re still dumbfounded, blinking at him blankly—so he decides to take matters into his own hands, reaching down to situate you against him by himself. “there, that’s better.”

a persistent heat surges through your stomach as your brain slowly registers the position. beomgyu’s arm tightens around your waist as you adjust your hips in a way that makes your clothed core brush against his bulge. you almost see the way his eyes darken, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip. it’s quiet, still as the distant sound of the beach’s waves and the gentle trickle of water fills in the silence.

your arms slowly come up to wrap around his neck—you don’t know what possesses you; some weird entity that makes beomgyu’s lips look all too kissable, and his eyes sickeningly alluring. his adam’s apple bobs as his eyes flicker across your face. you don’t register the way he slowly wades you both toward the wall of the pool, effectively caging you in as your back gently presses against the tile.

you have the chance to run, to push him off of you, and go back inside—to pretend your core doesn’t pulse with want as he presses his entire body against you. his chest is warm and his eyes are blown out, and you can say no.

but you don’t want to.

his eyes search yours for something before they trail down to your lips, his hips meeting yours in a way that renders you slightly dizzy with the proximity.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop, right now,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a ticklish feeling against your exposed skin under the water. you swallow.

“i want this, please.” and his lips are on yours before you can take another breath.

it’s nothing gentle; as if he’s been starved for your taste for all of eternity. the kiss is bruising as he nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue meeting yours as you gasp into his mouth. he takes control easily, his hips moving against yours as the water moves around you, the sound mixing in with your quiet moans and beomgyu’s sparse grunts.

he swallows all of your sounds, holding you down against him as he bucks up into your core, his dick hard and heavy in between your legs. you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist as you match his movement to the best of your ability. you’re nearly unable to think straight as he kisses the oxygen out of you, your mind growing hazy as pleasure shoots up your spine when he rubs against your clit just right.

beomgyu breaks the kiss to dive into your neck, sucking and biting small marks onto your unblemished skin before kissing over the soon-to-be marks. he can’t keep his mouth off of you as he trails his lips under your jaw, over your clavicle, nipping at your cleavage. your own voice sounds foreign in your ears as every lick and bite shoots straight to your core, feeling that knot in your gut tightens with every thrust.

“think you can cum just like this, hm? just from humping my cock?” beomgyu pants against your skin as his lips brush over your cheek, his breath fanning your ears. the head of beomgyu’s clothed dick catches onto your slit for the slightest of seconds, and you have to clench all of the muscles in your body to not cum on the spot.

“ye—yes, please don’t stop,” you whine, tilting your head back to invite his lips back to your neck. you’re sure you’re leaving marks on beomgyu’s shoulder blades from how hard your nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, it makes his hips work faster against yours, pressing you full-on against the pool walls.

“so good for me, fuck.”

beomgyu kisses up your neck, a low groan leaving his lips at the way you’re bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat, clawing at his skin as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“gyu, ‘m—can i cum? please, please, please.” you can’t hold on anymore—not with the way beomgyu laughs against your skin, his free hand reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your lips against his again. he licks into your mouth with fervor, your teeth clashing together. your spit-slicked lips slide against each other, wet and messy, and he finally decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum for me, baby.”

your brain goes blank as you finally come undone, blindly sinking into beomgyu’s lips and his faltering thrusts. your entire body tenses up as you moan against his lips, feeling like a ragdoll in the way he leaves soft kisses against your lax mouth. a low, rumbling groan emits from his chest as his hips still, twitching against yours subtly. he exhales once he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

it takes a second for you both to catch your breaths and when you finally blink your eyes open, beomgyu’s puppy-like eyes are already on yours.

“you okay?” his voice oozes with a type of concern; care that feels all too intimate. his pupils are blown wide, alluring and deep as they scan your face. you nod with a small sigh, leaning forward to drop your head onto his shoulder. you feel his torso shake with a chuckle at the action, feeling an unnamed emotion run through your chest.

you don’t pay any mind to it, though. not while you're ruminating in a cum-contaminated body of water.

“we should probably call someone to clean the pool.” and the laughter that bubbles out of beomgyu’s mouth is enough to distract you, just for a moment.

[I DO.]

it’s a weird, strange domestic feeling waking up to a fluffy head of brown hair resting on your shoulder, caged in by gentle arms around your waist. beomgyu’s always been a cuddler, and a week ago, you would’ve cringed at the simple thought of indulging him.

but now, a warm feeling blooms in your chest like a hydrangea as your fingers slip into his mussed hair to play with the strands. you’ve been cowed by your emotions, unable to fight off the fond smile that climbs onto your lips at the sight of the teddy bear-esque man clinging to you in his sleep.

you don’t know what to do with all of these butterflies swarming in your chest, flapping against each other, kicking up a sandstorm of admiration that runs wild through your veins. he’s your best friend—and at this point in time, you know he’s more than that.

it’s crazy to think that romantic feelings can accumulate overnight, and you’re starting to suspect that maybe these feelings have existed all along. he’s the only one capable of rendering you speechless, whether it be from the crazy things he says or the way his eyes sparkle with a sense of youthfulness that tethers you two together. he’s the only one who can make you feel so carefree and in the moment—you don’t worry about the future or what’s to come with beomgyu. you simply enjoy the now, soaking up his blinding smiles and outlandish stories.

he’s waking up, you realize, as he mumbles under his breath, nuzzling closer to you. his lips brush your neck, his hair tickling your cheek in a way that makes your nose scrunch up with a small giggle. you feel drunk despite the fact that all of the alcohol has long dispersed in your body overnight—you blame it all on the fact that the sun sits high in the sky, shining kindly through the wide, open windows. it lights beomgyu up in a way that squeezes your heart painfully, the white sheets strewn across his waist making him look so soft and gentle.

“good morning,” you mumble with a tiny smile as beomgyu begins littering faint kisses against the expanse of your neck, brushing over the previous marks he’d left there yesterday. he simply hums in response, his arms loosening from around your waist to trail up the side of your body—his touch is so delicate, you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he softly nips at your skin.

he situates himself so that he’s hovering over you and you open your eyes again, feeling the sudden urge to shy away from his gaze. you’ve never seen such a look in his eyes—something so heavy and raw. as if he’s prying you apart and putting you back together again. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

“good morning, beautiful,” he finally replies and you can’t help but giggle again—you feel like a teenager, the way your stomach flutters at his morning voice, all deep and raspy and sultry. his brown eyes are half-lidded from sleep, his skin warm as his fingers brush your cheek.

the tension in the air isn’t incredibly prominent—it still lingers but with a less demanding presence. it’s natural and easy in the way it always is with beomgyu. existing with beomgyu is just so uncomplicated.

you feel yourself melt into the sheets as he presses closer, molding himself into you perfectly—as if he was destined to be right here all along. his nose brushes yours as he leans in, and when his lips touch yours, any thoughts clouding your mind immediately disperse, making room for the sun itself. your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, feeling his heartbeat against yours. you feel safe, lax, content; all things good in the world.

his lips are unrushed as they move against yours, silently speaking a thousand words as he cups the side of your face, his hips subtly moving against yours. you sigh into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss—you don’t care about morning breath or the fact that you probably look a mess with your ridden-up shirt and tired eyes. and beomgyu doesn’t care either, licking into your mouth as if you’re a rare delicacy, grinding down against your thin panties.

he’s half-hard in his pants, desperately rubbing against you to chase whatever pleasure he can get. it’s endearing almost, the way he moans into your mouth as you reach down to slip your fingers past his waistband to trail a light touch over his dick. his voice is deeper than normal, stirring something inside of you that makes your legs clamp around his hips.

“i want you, gyu,” you breathe out once his lips finally leave yours, pumping him slowly. his lips catch in between his teeth as your fingers run over the head of his dick, feeling your fingers coat with sticky precum.

“hm? gotta be more specific than that, gorgeous,” beomgyu teases despite the way he’s slowly thrusting into your hand, smiling down at you in a way that usually would’ve pissed you off—but right now, it only makes your pussy drip with want.

“i want you inside of me. want you to fill me up,” you whine out as his fingers rub your clit over your panties, moving lower to press against your damp entrance. his resolve crumbles all too quickly as you peer up at him with your doe eyes, lips parted as you whine softly, moving your hips against his fingers.

“fuck, okay baby.”

you let him move away to strip himself of his sparse clothing as you pull your shirt over your head. the butterflies return quickly as you realize this is the first time you’re seeing each other completely unclothed and—oh god. he’s huge. your half-asleep state didn’t realize the sheer amount of dick between your fingers, but now that you’re seeing it in the morning light, you aren’t even sure if it’ll fit.

beomgyu makes his way back over to you, his fingers hooking onto the band of your panties to drag them down your legs. his eyes are almost predatory as he takes in your glistening folds, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over your cunt, collecting your juices.

“you’re dripping,” he awes, his eyes flickering up to yours with a small smile. a heat rushes up your neck, shyly covering your face with both of your hands. beomgyu’s small laugh resonates throughout the room, feeling his clean hand come up to gently move your arms away.

when you meet his eyes again, they’re filled with a sort of fondness that makes your head spin, makes your heart stutter—it’s horrible and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips as his fingers return to your cunt, slightly dipping into your hole, soaking them even more.

“i want you to look at me. can you do that?” beomgyu gently requests and you’re nodding before you can fully register his words. he flashes you a proud smile before he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. an airy, surprised moan leaves your body against your will at the sight, and his smile broadens. “you taste amazing, baby.”

his middle finger enters your entrance with no resistance, and you feel yourself clench down as he curls it upwards to gently explore your walls. it’s all too much and not enough all at once. he’s going incredibly slow, as if you two have all the time in the world, but you can’t wait. you need him now.

“please, just fuck me. ‘m ready,” you demand through a whine, pleading with your eyes, an action that effectively softens beomgyu's gaze. he doesn’t remove his finger, but instead adds another alongside it, his thumb coming to brush against your clit. you buck against his hand with a small moan as he moves up your body, trailing kisses from your hipbone, to your breasts, and finally your lips.

it’s a chaste peck, but it’s enough to leave you wanting more, chasing after his lips once he pulls back. you whine at the loss, already feeling your brain turn to mush with the way his fingers slowly drag against the walls of your cunt, his thumb just barely applying pressure to your swollen nub.

“are you sure?”

“yes, yes, ‘m sure. want your cock, gyu. just—” you’re nearly hysterical as your hips grind down on his fingers. you can already feel the frustrated tears brimming your eyelashes, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his. “please, please…”

“shh. it’s okay, baby,” beomgyu coos, pressing a few soft kisses to your lips. you quietly gasp as he removes his fingers from your hole. he kisses your cheeks all too delicately, his forearm resting by your head to steady himself. “i’ll take care of you. just relax.”

you almost cry happy tears with the way you feel the head of his cock tease your hole, dipping in but not fully entering. his lips find yours again as he drags his dick in between your sopping folds, swallowing his low moan at the feeling. “my perfect girl. so pretty, so wet for me.”

when he pushes in, your arms tighten around his neck, your enter body locking up at the intrusion. you feel like a virgin again, his girth stretching you open almost uncomfortably. his thumb rubs your hips to soothe you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss to distract you from the feeling. he stops for a second, letting you get used to his dick as he peppers kisses across your face.

“fuck, it feels like you’re splitting me in half,” you blurt out and beomgyu can’t help but laugh softly, his forehead resting against yours. “i think i can feel you in my throat.”

“can you stop making me laugh so i can fuck you stupid, please?”

his words are lighthearted, but the thought of being fucked to the point where you can’t even speak has you shutting up in no time. you whine quietly as beomgyu continues pushing into you until he’s fully situated inside of your cunt—you’re fluttering around him like crazy, feeling the faint pain slowly dispersing into pleasure as he kisses your jaw.

“you can move now,” you mumble, and beomgyu wastes no time pulling out, almost all the way, just to snap his cock back into you with a force that rocks the bed slightly. you can’t cover up the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips, eventually turning into a stream of moans and whines as he quickly sets a brutal pace.

his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, your mind clouding over as pleasure fills your bloodstream, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. he places one last kiss on your lips before sitting up, both of his hands moving wrapping around your thighs. you’re so wet that his dick easily glides in and out of you, wet, squelching sounds filling the room as you drip around him.

“you’re so tight, god. letting me fuck you raw like the needy slut you are,” he chastizes, groaning as he pulls your body in to meet his hips. his strokes are so deep, you already feel yourself nearing your high.

“yes, yes, yes. need you,” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets. “so big, gyu. ‘s too much, i can’t—”

“you were the one crying for my cock, so you better take it.” his sudden demeanor change sends a tingly rush up your spine, leaving your brain a muddled mess. his bangs have fallen into his eyes, his cheekbones flushed with a slight pink from the physical exertion and the warmth of the sun beaming through the windows. his stomach contracts with every thrust into your wet heat, low moans and sharp gasps leaving his lips as his eyes fall shut, his head lolling back at the feeling.

your core throbs, gut tightening with every passing moment—at some point, he brings his fingers down to circle your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of it all. you clench down around him, hand stretching out for something, anything; and it only takes a few seconds for beomgyu to notice. his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a grounding squeeze.

“gonna fill you up—gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy,” beomgyu pants out, a low moan leaving his lips as his hips slightly stutter.

“‘m gonna cum, gyu, ‘m cumming,” you babble out, your head rolling to the side as your eyes shut, the immense pleasure coursing through your body becoming all too much. somewhere through your muffled ears, you hear beomgyu praising you for taking him so well, but by that point, you’re already gone.

the moan that leaves your lips is nearly pornagraphic, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your orgasm washes over you. all the air is punched out of your lungs and beomgyu thrusts deep into you before settling there, a low groan leaving his lips as his dick twitches inside of you.

“fuck, baby, i love you. i love you so much,” he breathes out as he cums—you feel the hot streaks of his cum painting your insides, shooting places you weren’t even sure existed inside of you. it leaves your mind hazy, unable to even process the way he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and onto the white sheets.

the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against your entrance makes your hips buck up—you let out a surprised gasp that’s quickly overtaken by a whimper, your hand reaching to entangle itself in his hair.

“wait, gyu—fuck, i’m sensitive,” you whine, feeling your eyes brim with tears at the overstimulation. his tongue flicks against your abused cunt as he cleans up his own cum, fucking it back into you with his tongue.

“you can take it, baby. i know you can,” he pants against your pussy before his lips encircle your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so slightly. you can’t control the noise leaving your lips, whining and moaning as your legs clamp around his head. beomgyu simply chuckles against you before two of his fingers enter your pussy, teasing and prodding at your sentive walls.

“gyu, i can’t, i can’t…” you sob, tears running down your cheeks as the overstimulation sends painful shocks up your spine. you’re gushing around his tongue, the sheets beneath you completely soaked through. your brain fights against itself, your body unsure of whether to press closer or pull away. you can’t think about anything other than beomgyu’s fingers and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as your body racks with sobs.

“yes, you can. cum on my tongue, pretty girl.”

and you do, your back arching as you moan loudly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your hips frot against his face, waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning you. your entire body trembles with shocks as your mind goes blank, flopping back onto the bed as you attempt to catch your breath. tears are still running down your cheeks—your entire body feels like it’s floating. you’re completely wrung out. that was probably the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

you don’t even register beomgyu’s soft hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears away, his lips pressing against your forehead, your nose; anywhere his lips can reach. it’s grounding as you slowly come back down to earth.

“you did so well for me, baby. so, so perfect. so beautiful. you took it all, i’m so proud of you.”

you blink your eyes open at his words, feeling those butterflies flock with the way he’s watching you so attentively, his eyes flitting across your face quickly.

“i didn’t go too far, did i?” beomgyu’s voice is almost nervous, low and quiet in your ear as he strokes the side of your face. you crack a small smile at how cute he looks, reaching up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes.

“no, not at all. i liked it,” you reassure, your fingers trailing down his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. he visibly melts into your touch at the words, shoulders slumping in relief.

“thank god,” he breathes out, slumping on top of you—you half-heartedly protest, but the weight is nice, loving the way it feels to have his chest rise and fall against yours, his head resting in the crook your neck. you wrap your arms around him with a little giggle, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“you big baby,” you tease. he’s completely unbothered, though, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before settling against you again.

“only around you.”

the quiet is relaxing, hearing the calm waves of the beach down the hill and the slight buzz of the air conditioner. as much as your brain wants to believe that you imagined it, his words from a few moments ago ring like a mantra in your head. words that make your chest tight, and your mind spin, and your stomach flutter. having him in your arms like this makes you sure that what you heard wasn’t made up in your mind.

“you said you love me.”

a beat of silence.

“hm?” he hums inquisitively as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“when you, um—when you… came…” you whisper the last part, feeling the vibrations of beomgyu’s laugh fill your own chest.

“you’re still shy after all of that?” beomgyu asks incredulously as he lifts his head to look at you. a tiny, playful smile sits on his lips and you pout, nudging him softly.

“stop changing the topic!” beomgyu laughs again as he relaxes back into your hold.

“okay, i did say i love you. because i do. i love you.”

the words hit you deeper this time, now that your mind is clear—he sounds so sure of himself, and the confidence seeps into you, confirming your own feelings that have been threatening to spill over these last few days.

“i love you too.” you pause for a second. “ like, love love you.”

beomgyu chuckles against your skin, his arms tightening around your frame as he nuzzles in closer to you, despite already being skin to skin. he’s cute, you think.

“i’d hope ‘love love’ is what we’re talking about right now,” he speaks almost sarcastically and you lightly tug his hair for being a smartass—you get the opposite reaction you were searching for though because beomgyu dramatically moans at the action just to rile you up even more.

“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” you huff, but the smile on your face is telling enough as he lifts his head once again to meet your eyes—his hair is all messy and strewn about, lips bitten red and raw, cheeks flushed; and that fact that you’re in love with your best friend full sinks in. he’s everything to you.

“but you love me.”

you sigh.

“yea. i do.”

a blinding smile breaks out on beomgyu’s lips as he leans in to peck yours a few times, your body melting as he kisses you with so many emotions, it makes your heart get caught in your throat, your skin buzzing with contentment.

he pulls away, sitting up to climb off the bed, searching for his sweatpants.

“come on. time for me to do my husband duties and run you a bath.”

“you’re still comitting to this, huh?” you giggle as you sit up too, watching his figure retreat towards the bathroom. beomgyu turns slightly, the smile on his lips absolutely menacing.

“so? i gotta practice for the future.”

your future, you brain tells you.

and that idea isn't so bad, you think.

reblogs and feedback are highly cherished!

tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdiv1ne @yunhorights @nes-caf @1921choi

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©️BEOM-PYU

#txt #txt imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #txt x reader #txt x y/n #beomgyu imagines #beom-pyu #beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu hard hours

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hyunsvngs · 9 months

Text

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.4k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: idiots in love (AND THEY FINALLY ADMITTED IT!), no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet pet names (again), felix is really in love and also horny as fuck, mc is thinking about sex 24/7, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: you and your best friend completed the main objective of your royal lives - your arranged marriage. you’ve both finally confessed your love to each other, and it seems that nothing can go wrong… until the public’s opinion of you becomes clear.

a/n: THE FINAL PART OF FAIRY FLOWERS. I PROMISE YOU THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING AND IS REALLY CUTE AND SMUTTY AND FLUFFY. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS SERIES AND I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS PART AS MUCH AS THE OTHERS :D

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: oral (m&f receiving), d/s dynamics (both fulfil both roles at some point, but never anything too heavy), INTENSE BREEDING KINK, panty sniffing but they’re still on, pet names in bed, unprotected sex, creampies, slight degradation (he calls mc stupid in bed), squirting

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“How long?”

Felix hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair. He’d been trying to plait some daisies that he’d picked from the meadow into the locks, but he’d given up halfway through. “Forever.”

You sniffed. You’d been crying for what felt like hours, since Felix had confessed to you and taken you back to your room to lay down. You’d since wrapped up warm in pajamas again and were taking the day to yourselves. You both had a lot to process, after all. “Me too, Pixie.”

You could almost feel Felix vibrating with excitement. “I’m sorry, but I have to say - we are both really fucking dumb, sugarplum.”

You giggled, nodding against his chest where you were laying.

“I was so over the moon when you agreed to marry me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn't been you. I just didn’t know how to tell you, I was so scared of ruining the friendship and what we had, and then… you gave me that book,” he finished. He’d said it all in one breath, and he was now almost panting. “I knew then. Or, I thought I knew. I decided I’d risk it anyway and confess, and I had this whole elaborate thing planned. But then you left!”

You groaned, moving to lay so you were looking up at him on his chest. “You can kind of blame Chan for that. He told me you’d read the book, and then you denied it, so then I thought… I thought you’d read it, and then decided I was a freak or something and didn’t want to say anything to me about it.”

Felix shook his head, smiling softly. “I think it’s one of the bravest things you’ve ever done. I was so proud of you when I had finally processed everything, sugarplum.”

You grinned back, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips. You loved that you could just fucking do that now, and it was normal.

“Do you wanna hear the confession? Like, what I had planned?”

“Um, do I? Of fucking course! Tell me, tell me!” You shrieked. You positioned yourself so that your leg was swung over his thighs, fingers dancing up his hoodie to rest on his abs in a moment of non-sexual intimacy. Your Prince still shuddered anyway.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, so. I was going to take you to our meadow at sunset, and I was going to already have a daisy chain made for you. I had plans to put some little lanterns around on a picnic blanket and have some fruit there for us to pick at and eat. I was going to tell you that there was one quote that really stuck with me in the book, when Knightley says ‘if I loved you less-‘“

“‘I might be able to talk about it more.’ It’s my favorite quote. Cliche, because it is the most famous, but it’s just beautiful, isn’t it?” Felix hummed in agreement. You started to trace circles on his soft, tanned skin.

“It’s my favorite too. It reminded me of you. If I had loved you less, I wouldn’t be so scared about risking everything, and I could’ve told you. I could’ve told you that I love you, and everything would’ve been so much easier,” Felix confessed. Your heart felt like it was about to burst with love. You’d compared you and Felix to Emma and Mr. Knightley, and Felix had done the exact same. “Anyway, I really thought about that, and I made you a daisy chain. It’s probably wilted now, but I was going to give it to you. The wedding ring means we’re married, yeah, but a daisy chain is just so us, isn’t it? That’s more of a show of love to me.”

“Not sure I would’ve understood your confession from just a daisy chain and a quote, Pixie, but sure-“

“I’m not done!” Felix yelled. You chuckled, motioning for him to continue. He sighed, looking deep into your eyes. “Anyway, I was going to say all of that, and then I was going to kiss you, like super romantically. Then, I would tell you that I loved you and that I always have loved you, sugarplum. I know it’s simple, but-“

You surged forward, pressing your lips to his. Felix let out a small squeak in surprise, but quickly took it in his stride, using his left hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t be happier. You’d finally got him - and you didn’t feel selfish at all.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“I’m so… fucking… pissed.” Felix was panting at the door to your bedroom. Your shared bedroom, may you add. You wanted to twirl your hair and kick your feet every time you remembered it. You slept together here, amongst… other things. Looking up from your book, you blinked at him. Reading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time hadn’t been boring at all to you - there was always something in you that made you obsess over Mr. Darcy. He was the dream, seriously. Well, the fictional dream. Your dreams coming to life existed in the form of your best friend, now husband, all small frame and bleached hair of him.

He was out of breath, sweating, immediately stripping his shirt off to throw it on the floor. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he so disheveled? “Lixie… did you run here?”

“Yes,” He whined, throwing himself on top of you on the couch. You’d lit the fireplace in the room and perched on the couch in your most comfortable clothes for the day. You’d had nothing else to do, no duties. Being a Princess now meant you had so much to do all the time, so it was a welcomed change by you to be able to just lounge around comfortably in an oversized shirt and underwear, nothing else. He laid on top of you, disturbing the peace, but his limbs splayed everywhere on top of your body was also welcomed by you. “I’m so mad, I just had to run!”

“Okay,” You hummed, slotting the bookmark into your book and shutting it, putting it on the floor. You tried to stay calm, hoping that your energy would rub off on your husband and calm down the temper that he was in. Felix grabbed your hand and put it in his hair, and you dutifully started scratching. It had become so comfortable to be in a relationship with him, to be married to him for real - there were no other changes, except for the fact that you now had sex - a lot - and slept in the same bed every night. You could even kiss him without shame, which was another fact that you had yet to process. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re so pissed off then, or…?”

He mumbled something incoherently into your chest, making your ears perk. What? Seriously, he was so frustrating - just speak up! You chided yourself. He was in a bad mood, over whatever it was, and it’s totally not his fault that he’s feeling a little nonverbal about it.

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you, Pixie.”

Felix raised his head slightly, turning to face the flickering fireplace but staying rested on your chest. The fireplace lit up his features, highlighting high cheekbones and pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He got more beautiful every time you saw him, especially with his exposed tan skin at that moment - the flames from the fireplace made him look warm toned, like the sweet cup of coffee you like to help yourself to in the morning. Energising and tempting. You wondered, rather inconsiderately, if you could jump his bones after he’d vented to you. You still had your legs crossed from the moment he entered the room, back pressed up against the armrest and legs obscured with a thick, fluffy blanket. He hadn’t even noticed you were clad in only an oversized bed t-shirt with your underwear underneath, your legs and the blanket covering the exposure.

“It’ll make you sad, I think. I’d hate to make you sad, sugarplum,” He whispered, almost solemnly. You hummed again. Maybe it would make you sad, but if it would make your Prince feel better, you wanted to know. You voiced this statement and he sighed almost immediately. “Okay. People are getting a bit unhappy with the royal family. You’re not really a noble, and people have been… considering you the servant’s daughter, I guess. I dunno. People have also clued in to our marriage being arranged, even though we’re denying it completely, so… They’re angry. Yeah, they’re fucking pissed, sugarplum.”

The rage hit you at once. You shut your eyes. They’re angry? You’re fucking angry. How dare they speak down on you like that? You’ve had years of etiquette training, the same fucking education as their prized Prince. You knew him better than anyone else. You wanted to scream. It had made you frustrated at Felix, when it wasn’t his fault at all.

The heat of the fireplace was now lighting your own fire, deep inside your heart that made you want to lash out against anyone that wasn’t Felix. You knew Felix, knew he would’ve done everything to stand up for you. You weren’t doubtful of that in the slightest. He’d wrap you up in cotton wool even if there was only one person saying you were slightly annoying.

Felix sat up, waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? You didn’t say anything. Are you upset…? Oh God, you’re sad, I’m so sorry-“

“Lix, shut up,” You blurted. He looked at you with the signature deer in the headlights look. You sighed. “Sorry, baby. I’m pissed off, not upset, and I’m not pissed off with you. I’m pissed off with them.”

Felix looked relieved, nodding and falling down against your chest again. “It’s so not fair, right?! They don't get to decide. We gotta show them, show them you’re exactly the right person.”

“Does it matter what they think, realistically?”

“Um, yes,” Felix scoffed. “Remember that one film we watched where they tried to overthrow the government?”

“Pixie, please tell me you’re not talking about The Hunger Games. This isn’t even a government?”

“I totally am referring to that, yeah! It’s like… you’re Katniss, sugarplum. I’m Peeta, right, except way better looking, no offence to him, and I’m a Prince. Everyone loves me, and you’re Katniss. You’re super cool, and sexy, and smart - but then the public just thinks you're evil. The public is… President Snow! Oh my God, this totally makes sense,” He was out of breath at the end, eyes wide.

You held back a laugh. “This is the strangest metaphor you’ve come up with to date, baby.”

“It makes sense though. Okay, no,” Felix shook his head. “I’m being really dramatic.”

“Well, yeah-“

“Shu’up!” He whined, thrashing around on top of you. “Okay, I know I am being dramatic! But, I just want them to love you. I want them to see what I see, you know? You’re perfect.”

His voice was quiet, heartfelt. You let a small laugh come out then, kissing his head. You had to subdue the tension, make a joke in order to make him relax a little. “I hope the public don’t all wanna fuck me, Lix.”

Felix was immediately upright, reaching down to tickle you punishingly. It was your turn to thrash around, trying to kick him, trying to do anything - you hated when he tickled you, but to be honest, you had been winding him up by trying to lighten the mood. It had been your whole goal, really, and you hadn’t thought of the consequences.

He eventually fell back on the couch, his back up against the armrest opposite the one you’d been leaning on. He threw his legs, still clad in dress trousers, over yours. Felix huffed a deep breath, and you were still panting, letting out random giggles reminiscent of the ones you’d emitted when he was tickling you. “You’re right.”

“Huh?” You heaved a loud, obnoxious breath out, still smiling. “Right about what?”

Felix smiled, that silly smile he does when he’s about to make a stupid statement. “I do wanna fuck you. All the time, actually. You drive me fucking crazy, sugarplum.”

You raised an eyebrow. You were going to wipe that stupid smile off of his face. You’d felt way more confident, comfortable in your own skin since you and Felix had confessed to each other and he’d wholly struggled to keep his hands off of you, even in public. You kicked the blanket off of your legs, exposing the exposed skin, and Felix’s face dropped. He stared at your legs, bare and with soft skin from the lotion you used when you showered, and his eyes widened when you spread your legs. Your core was clad with just a pair of white expensive lace underwear - some way overpriced brand that Chan’s wife had recommended to you - and you could see Felix’s gaze drop to the space between your legs. An immediate blush rose to his cheeks, crimson settling underneath the fawn freckles scattered around olive skin.

“You’ve- I… You’ve just been… like that? This whole- this whole fucking time? Baby, sugarplum, my Queen…” He was immediately moving, face moving to settle between your legs and presumably nose at the soft lace. You gripped his soft hair softly, pulling his head back and making him let out a groan before he could even meet the fabric with his button nose. “B-Baby?”

“What are you doing, Lix? You can’t just accost your wife like that,” You scoffed. His eyes were soft, looking up at you. It was new, you two playing like this - honestly, you’d only just become confident enough to key into some of your more innate desires. You loved the teasing, the push and pull, whether it was you or your Prince on the receiving end.

“Lemme eat you out, yeah? Yeah? Please, sugarplum?” He huffed, his tongue peeking out to lick over his bottom lip. Felix’s eyes were darting around, landing on you, on the fireplace, on your covered pussy. Your folds had already started to slick up with your Prince looking so vulnerable, his dark doe eyes panicked and weak. “I know you like it when I do. You love my lips, I know you do. Let me eat you out, and then I’ll… I’ll…” He was trailing off.

You smiled softly, encouraging him. “And then you’ll what, Pixie?”

Felix let out a deep groan, rasping out straight from his chest, your fingers still tight around the soft strands of sandy hair. His roots had started growing out, chestnut brown hair adding to the mix of blonde shades. You loved his blonde mullet, but a part of you missed Felix with his long, dark hair too. “I’ll fill you up. Make you a mommy, yeah? Everyone will know you’re perfect then, if we make an heir… can I? Can I cream in that sweet pussy after you ride my face, sugarplum? Will you let me?”

Your chest heaved, your breathing coming out in thick pants like a fucking dog. Your pussy felt like it was going to drip all over the couch and leave a stain that would be extremely hard to explain to the maids. You managed to nod, a small, overly timid nod that was completely the opposite of how you’d been speaking and acting. Lithe fingers dropped from the strands of hair, and Felix’s face was immediately between your legs.

“Can’t believe this… this sweet pussy was almost fucking out, this whole time, and I’ve been- fucking going on, I’ve been ranting, and I could’ve been tasting you, oh my God,” Felix whined, deep breaths flooding over your clothed core. You moaned, saccharinely sweet. The feeling of the warm flames from the fireplace had made you feel relaxed and toasty, but now you were warm for a different reason. The arousal was building deep in your tummy as Felix nuzzled his nose against your folds, inhaling deeply at the smell of your pussy. The scent of your wetness flooded his senses. It was primal, desperate, and he was whining again when he licked a wide stripe over the fabric, sodden with your arousal. “Mm, yeah. Nice and sweet for me, sugarplum. Always so nice and sweet for me.”

“Taste it then. Properly, Pixie,” You demanded. Unperturbed, he nodded in agreement, sighing with another deep breath when his fingers hooked into the underwear to pull them down your legs. To be honest, they were a sorry excuse for underwear, barely covering anything. You just liked the way the soft, thin lace felt against your skin, and clearly Felix liked them too. When your pussy was exposed to the warm air, Felix was immediately moaning out loudly, face diving into your folds. He ate you without abandon, shoving his tongue between your folds to lick you up of all of your arousal, nose buried in the softness that met him there.

Felix pressed open mouth kisses against your clit, swirling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves. You felt his thumb reach up to pull your pussy back, exposing your clit from underneath the hood to the warm air of the room. He was immediately latched onto it, sucking hard, and you whined loudly. Your orgasm was already building steadily, a white hot heat twisting in your gut at the way he was making out with your cunt filthily. He was smearing his spit everywhere, licking it up and making you flood his mouth messily with your juices.

“Oh God, I’m already- fuck- ‘m already getting close, Pixie, Lix, Lix, Felix, please-“ He nodded against your folds, pulling back to spit messily on your clit and smear it around with his fingers. He used two fingers on the same hand to press at your hole, entering you seamlessly and making you thrash around at the feeling of being full. His fingers were short but God did they feel good when he had you like this, spread out, pliant for him with only a few commands to make your Prince please you just right.

You held his head close to you, making him moan at the feeling of being commanded to make you cum. His fingers pistoned steadily in and out, and you hoped vaguely that it was in preparation for his cock to enter you - not that you needed any preparation with the way his lips were sliding around your pussy messily. You found yourself bouncing back onto his fingers, letting out whines and whimpers when he sucked your clit just right.

All of a sudden, like a sudden crescendo, your orgasm hit you. It hit in what felt like a burning, ecstatic full hour in which you thought you may ascend to the high heavens, dripping hole clenching around your Prince’s fingers tightly as you came. Your jaw dropped in a loud moan, one hand pushing Felix’s head further into you - although it was impossible - and the other digging into the armrest behind you in lieu of letting out the passion you felt. You thrashed, whining out as your orgasm went on, and on, until you were left a panting mess on the couch, sweat slicked back sliding around where your shirt had ridden up in your flurry of movement.

Felix pulled away when your hand on his head went slack, licking his lips. Despite his efforts to clean them up, his lips were still covered in a sheen from your juices and looked plush and ruined. His cheeks blushed, forehead just slightly sweaty. With a quick movement, he was kissing you, flicking his tongue against the seam of your mouth so it parts to allow his tongue inside, you letting out a little sigh once your tongues meet.

He kept kissing you, a filthy exchange of tongues and spit over and over again, building the arousal back up in your gut like the formation of an avalanche. You could taste your orgasm on his lips, making you moan, stifled by his mouth. By the time your lips separate, he’s looking at you expectantly with flushed cheeks and you’re out of breath, staring back at him.

“You gonna pump me full, Lixie?” You whispered, your low tone making him scrunch his eyes shut and nod feverishly. He was unbuttoning his trousers with one hand, pushing them down lithe legs and throwing them on the floor. Just as quick as he’d rid himself of the offending fabrics, he was laying back on the couch in the position he had been prior to eating your pussy, erection straining heavily in his boxers. It looked painfully hard, a small patch of precum staining the black fabric even darker.

“Ride me. Fuck, please, please, sugarplum. Ride me, please, all yours,” He was babbling, shifting up onto his forearms, and you managed to pull your t-shirt off on the way to straddling him. His hips were slender between the ample flesh of your thighs, and you felt powerful above him as he looked up at you, blonde strands staticy and splayed against the armrest.

You teasingly ground into his bulge, staring down at him all the while, trying to prevent your eyes from rolling back into your head at the feeling. The fabric of his boxers was the perfect friction against your overstimulated clit, and his hands instantly went into your hips at the movement, gasping out. His hips thrusted up into you and jolted you slightly on his lap.

“Want it inside, Pixie?” You heaved out a deep breath, making him nod. He’d started to babble again, little incoherent deep sentences. You ignored what he was saying, pulling down his boxers just enough to allow his length to emerge, red and leaking. “Oh, look at that. You look desperate.”

“I- I am,” Felix nodded determinedly. “Need your pussy, my Queen. God, please, just- oh my God-“

He was effectively silenced by you sinking down onto his length, wet hole embracing him in one slick slide. You let out a soft moan, rocking slightly to try and get your hole to accommodate the thickness that had breached you. He looked debauched, lips still wet and hands clutching your hips tightly as he let out deep moans and whimpers.

You started to bounce once your pussy felt like it was burning with need, letting his thick cock fill you up over and over. The slaps of skin and wetness briefly made you feel embarrassed, but you ignored it, focusing on the blissful expression on Felix’s face.

“That’s-That’s so… so good, shit,” He panted, trying to let you take control and keep his hips still. It was difficult, that much you could see by the jilting of his hips every now and again. You leaned back on your hands, gripping his thighs for purchase as you rolled over his length at a steady pace. His eyes were lit up by the fire, images of flames in the whites of his eyes reflecting the deep need burning inside of him.

You were quickly losing all sense of rationality, hips faltering over him a few times as you struggled to keep your pace. “Feels- so fucking good, Lix, I-I-“

Your Prince shifted upright, nose just barely brushing against yours and the angle changing inside of you. Just a little more that way, you thought, and- there, that’s it, shit. You gasped when he brushed your g-spot, bouncing you slowly on his cock to just let his cockhead rest on that spot inside of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands moving to grip his shoulders tightly.

“It’s okay, sugarplum, I-I got you. That nice and deep, yeah? Yeah? Am I hitting it?” He mused, and you nodded eagerly, trying not to writhe around on top of him. “Think it’ll take?” You opened your eyes confusedly.

“T-Think what’ll take..?”

“Me breeding you, sugarplum. Is the cock so good you’ve gone all stupid on me?” You moaned out at his choice of words, statements from your deepest desire making your hole clench nice and tight around him. He simply smiled fondly at you, letting his warm staccato breaths fan over your face. You felt yourself getting wetter as he started to lean back with you in his arms, keeping that same angle with his hips. “C’mere. Lay flat.”

You were confused again, but you trusted him, so you let him hold onto your waist tightly and shift you onto his front. You felt the ridges of his abdominal muscles press against your tummy, making you try to grind your clit up to gain stimulation from them. He simply cooed at you, soothing you with warm circles drawn on the small of your back before he was thrusting up into you frantically.

You were sure you’d screamed. It was so overwhelming like this, so deep, so thick, so full - you were contemplating if you could cum just from his cockhead bullying into your g-spot. It quickly became apparent to you after a few especially punishing thrusts that yes, you could.

Moving to start chasing your orgasm for the second time, you ground down against him, rendering him speechless as he gazed down at you. He still had you pinned to his chest with a firm grip, and with another shift of his hips he was fucking you at a frantic pace, matching the grinding you were giving him.

“Oh, Lix- Lix, I- I think I’ll-“

Felix nodded in the crook of your neck, watching your asscheeks bounce on his thighs as he took you hard, over and over. He was slurring into your skin. “I’m gettin’- getting fucking- so close, so close-“

“Keep- like that, like that, deep, deep! I’ll- oh my God, oh my God, oh my-“

Stars burst behind your eyelids and you screwed them shut tight, body shuddering in his tight hold as you came around his cock. You registered something wetter, a gush of fluids exploding from you in your orgasm, but you just continued to grind against him, clenching tight.

Felix believed he had died in that moment. “Oh- Oh my God, it’s so wet- so, so, fuck, you squirted, you squirted, I’m-“ Felix was biting his lip hard, almost causing blood to form where his teeth pressed into the thicker section of skin. You kissed his cheek in a daze, eyes half lidded as you let him use your dripping cunt for his pleasure. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah, yeah, sugarplum- fucking squirted, so wet, so fuckin’ wet and tight just for me-“

His jaw dropped in a silent moan at the same second his hips halted mid-thrust. You saw his eyes fluttering, rolling back into his head just as he released inside of you with thick, hot spurts. You aided him in that moment, soft grinds to coax out the rest of his cum inside of you. He pinched your hips harshly when he was done, causing you to squeak and stop moving, gazing up at him. You knew you had heart eyes in that moment - he’d made you squirt, for fuck’s sake.

A beat passed, his cock softening inside of you. His eyes were still shut as he tried to catch his breath, hands falling to smooth up and down your thighs. You felt the puddle when you spoke. “I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Felix sighed. “Please do that all the time, sugarplum.”

After getting cleaned up, Felix had put out the fire and taken you to bed where he’d pulled the blanket over you. You felt sated, muscles relaxed as you stretched out your legs on the soft mattress. He sidled in next to you, throwing his arm over your middle and pecking your cheek cutely.

“I love you, sugarplum. We’ll work on a game plan tomorrow, yeah?”

You hummed, eyes already feeling heavy. “Yeah. Love you too, Pixie.”

You felt content, pulling the blanket up to your chin and fluttering your eyes shut peacefully.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You and Felix had a plan.

It echoed your previous plan, but made a smile come to your face when you realised this was one you had made together. You were going to make up a whole schedule, activities you could do simply such as donating to charity - which you’d already been doing, who has the need for that much money realistically? But this act of good needed to be continued - and the plan that had taken place a few days after you’d created it.

Chan’s wife’s family was coming to visit. Being royals from a different kingdom, the whole town was celebrating and wanting to show off how amazing the town was to impress the other royal family. After all, they were part of your own royal family now, something that had greatly satisfied the public. Chan’s wife’s younger sister, a five-year-old Princess, was your main focus. Not only did you want to meet her anyway, Chan’s wife had decided it would be a great idea for you to go to the fruit orchard near the palace and pick some fruit together, the three of you.

You’d initially been apprehensive, given that Felix wouldn’t be present and you could be extremely fucking awkward when he wasn’t. But, she’d wanted to help, and she was favoured by the public too. It couldn’t help to have her in your company. That, and she’d become somewhat of a friend to you since the wedding. It felt weird to have real friends that weren’t Felix’s friends. It was something you were learning to embrace, and you tried not to overthink the actions you did after the outings.

You stood outside Chan and his wife’s chambers, next door to yours and Felix’s. It made you briefly recognise that you were very thankful that Felix hadn’t been next door to his mother, given what took place between the two of you on the regular. Chan wasn’t much of a better option though, with his teasing quips and boyish smile. You’d dressed nicely for the day, in a simple mid-length dress that was dark navy and long-sleeved, in case you got fruit juices on it. Felix had tried to jump your bones - for some unknown reason, the dress was probably the most conservative you’d ever worn - before you’d left but you’d managed to push past him with a teasing smile and a promise for ‘later’.

Chan’s wife bustled out of the room, a small child in her arms who was wiggling around impatiently. The Princess, you assumed, with her chubby cheeks and big round eyes. Her features echoed her elder sister, but in a more youthful, innocent way. She was in a little pink dress, a white cardigan slung over her small shoulders. You grimaced internally at the thought of fruit smearing over the light fabrics.

“Hi! This is my sister, Nari. She’s a little quiet, but-”

“Hello,” The little girl spoke, waving at you with a chubby hand. “We’re getting fruits today.”

You giggled, waving back at the little girl. “Yeah, we’re gonna go get fruit, all of us. Are you excited, Nari?”

Chan’s wife blinked at the younger girl. “Well, she’s normally quiet, but clearly not today.”

You found the little girl trailing next to you on the way to the orchards, her small hand wrapped around yours. She insisted on not being next to her sister, and you honestly felt like the shiny new toy to play with for the child - but you were fine with it. She was really cute, and it made you wish you’d had some siblings of your own growing up. You didn’t even notice the public taking pictures of you on their phones, too engrossed with the little girl telling you about her recent adventure all the way to get here.

“It took two whole sleeps to get here! Did you know that?”

Chan’s wife looked at you, shaking her head fondly at the younger. “It wouldn’t have taken two whole sleeps, sweetie, but our mother said you insisted on napping in the car. Twice,” She turned to you. “It takes a few hours. At most.”

You nodded, trying to hold back a laugh, but the little girl carried on telling her story as if her sister hadn’t corrected her. You eventually arrived at the fruit orchards, somewhere you hadn’t been an awful lot. It was lined with peach trees, given that they were in season, and your mouth watered. You loved peaches. So did Felix, actually, and you made a mental note to grab yourself an overflowing wicker basket of the sweet fruit to share later on.

Speaking of wicker baskets, your new friend had brought three, holding them in her hands dutifully. You assumed one was for her and Chan, one for you - and Felix, now - and one for Nari.

Nari was still chirping happily alongside you about some other story, you weren’t sure which. She was definitely still in the hyperactive phase of childhood, bouncing from one story to another and telling you random facts from a completely different one. You found yourself nodding along still, letting out ‘ooh, really?’ at what seemed like the right time. Nari was satisfied, her smile growing wider the more that you contributed to her tall tales.

Once you actually got set up, baskets in hands, Nari had run off to the other end of the orchard to grab some peaches off of a much lower tree, where she could just about reach on her tip-toes. You smiled, rather fondly. She really was cute. Just the sight of her in her smart little shoes and dress made you wish again that you had a sibling - or even a child of your own. It must be so beautiful to be able to spend time like this with a young mind.

Chan’s wife shook her head, laughing when you started to make your way down to Nari. “You can leave her there to tire herself out. We can still see her,” She smiled at you. You nodded, still sparing Nari a glance. “I wanted to chat with you, anyway.”

Your chest tightened, mind racing. What could it be? Had she heard something from you and Felix last night?

“Nothing bad, sweetie. Don’t panic,” She admonished, watching your eyes widen. You turned away, starting to pick peaches from the trees and still sparing Nari a glance every now and again to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t more than six feet away from you, really, but you still felt a duty of care over the little girl. “So, I’m sure you’ve been wondering why my family’s visiting.”

You started to fill the basket, humming. She’d followed you, her slender hand, nails perfectly polished appearing in front of you to start grabbing the ripe fruit. “You mean it’s not for our incredibly famous peach orchard?”

She gave you a rewarding laugh. “Unfortunately, no. It’s being announced soon. That Chan’s abdicating,” Your hand halted on one of the round peaches. “I thought you should know, since you’re technically the most important person involved. No one really knows yet, but it’s coming, in a week or so. It means the coronation will also be quite soon.”

You blinked. The most important person involved? She sure thought highly of you. The greenery of the tree leaves had started to look jarring against the light pink of the peaches. “Ah.” You said, rather intelligently.

“Yeah, ah,” She chirped. She’d filled up her basket rather quickly, and had started to continue to fill yours while you just stared at the fruit. You were grateful, but the entire situation had you feeling slightly cornered, as if there were ulterior motives to you meeting. “The abdication will be announced, then the coronation will be announced pretty much a few days after, and then me and Chan will move back to my kingdom. For me to become Queen.”

“Are you nervous?” You blurted.

She let out another comforting laugh, nodding. “I’m really fucking nervous, to be honest. It’s something Chan has always encouraged me to do, though. He seems more than ready to leave Felix in charge of the throne of the kingdom. He thinks it’ll be in capable hands.”

You found yourself agreeing. That wasn’t something you could deny. “Felix loves this kingdom. He loves his people, and they really love him.” You sounded resentful at the end, and your friend picked up on it, elbowing you softly.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” She chided you. “People have been taking so many pictures since we got here. They’re going to love you, sweetie. It just takes a bit of warming up. You know, maybe you could get knocked up or something, since it doesn’t sound to me like you’ve been struggling in that department-”

You squeaked, slamming your hand over her mouth in a flurry of movement. Being confident in the bedroom and being able to embrace that elsewhere was a difficult task to complete. Chan’s wife simply chortled behind your palm while your jaw was dropped at her choice of language, so common and straight up crude for a soon-to-be Queen. You couldn’t say much, actually. If anyone heard the language you and their beloved Prince used they’d probably have a heart attack and exile you both. Do people still exile? You realised you had to brush up on your modern royal knowledge, and you also realised you were still holding your hand over the woman’s mouth. Promptly dropping it, you scowled playfully.

“Okay. I guess I kinda had wondered if you’d heard us.”

“Oh, don’t get me started. I always wonder if you hear me and Chan when we-”

“Look, look! I got peaches,” Nari suddenly appeared next to you, barely carrying the basket that was only a quarter full. You almost laughed at the way the little girl had interrupted you, but instead leaned down to ruffle her hair.

“Awesome, Nari. Shall we head back? We can wash them and then you can eat some, yeah?”

Nari nodded eagerly, eyes wide. Chan’s wife pinched her chubby cheek fondly, and all three of you set off home.

After having a very fun, satisfying day, you hoped the public would see you differently.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Today was the day. It would be announced that Chan was abdicating. You’d helped Felix dye his hair a dark brown the night before, because apparently he needed a brand new hair colour when it’s announced that he’d be the new heir to the throne.

You stood in the mirror the morning of the announcement, brushing sweaty palms down your loose, pastel blue dress. It was off-shoulder, a mid-length dress with a conservative a-line that you’d paired with some small black kitten heels. To be honest, you kind of thought that you looked as if you were going to an office job, but when Felix had placed his chin on your shoulder he’d insisted you looked ravishing. You thought he had to say that, or you wouldn’t be the one fucking him every night.

You’d arrived hand in hand to the main hall, smiling fakely at the cheers of the nobles and the selective part of the public that had arrived at the announcement. They didn’t even like you, so why the fuck were they cheering? You tried to push that thought to the back of your head, listening to the clicking of your heels as you and Felix both arrived on the stage, taking your seats off to the side. No one knew what this announcement was for, apart from the royal family and their staff. Not that that mattered anyhow - people were already bouncing off of the walls with excitement at Felix’s new hair colour. He’d given an award-winning Prince-like smile as he walked down the hall.

The hall was decorated accordingly, the kingdom’s designated colour splashed everywhere in the form of balloon garlands and ribbons. There were some splashes of violet, the colour of Chan’s wife’s kingdom. It was meant to be a happy announcement, judging by the way it had been promoted and decorated. It probably would be happy, with Felix’s popularity.

Speaking of Felix, his thumb stroked circles onto your hand. He turned to you and mouthed ‘you’ll be okay’, full lips forming over the words subtly. You believed him, because you believed everything your Prince said.

Chan took to the stand, a podium standing solely in the middle with a mic for him to speak into. Felix and Chan’s mother stood aside of him, crown structured on her head perfectly. Chan’s wife stood on the other side, giving the crowd an effortless, perfect wave. You wished you could be like her.

“Hello, everyone,” Chan spoke into the mic, giving a pearly white smile. “I’ve decided to be the one to give the announcement today. I hope that’s alright with you all?”

The crowd applauded, because of course they did. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, and instead gave a small clap yourself. Felix looked proud of you.

“I’m going to get to the point rather quickly, so that we can get to the festivities even quicker,” Chan giggled. A few murmurs and laughs were heard from the crowd in lieu of a response. “I’m sure it is common knowledge by now that my mother, your Queen, intends to abdicate in order to give me the title of King, before she gets older. I want to thank you all for the warm welcome you’ve given me in regards to this.”

Chan’s wife was rubbing soothing circles at the small of Chan’s back, over the intricately designed suit he was wearing. He was still giving his best smile, mouth formed as if it was the only thing he ever did - grin boyishly.

“I want to announce though, that I intend to also abdicate, too,” He spoke, and the crowd went quiet. “My wife belongs to her kingdom, and I’m nothing but a feminist. I want the best for my love, and as such, I wish for her to be the Queen of her own kingdom, rather than my Queen Consort. I hope you can understand and respect my decision.”

Another few murmurs were heard, a few people nodding solemnly. Felix got up right on cue, going to replace the Queen’s position on Chan’s side. It was time. You stayed in your seat. You thought you could remember that this is where you were meant to stay, until it was time to promote and smile in the festivities afterwards.

“Therefore, I wish to announce that my younger brother, Prince Felix, will be the heir to the throne. His coronation will take place in a few days. I understand this is fast for you all, but I hope you can accept the change with open arms. Thank you for everything you have done for me and my family.” His speech ended with a nod, and there was silence over the whole hall. You waited anxiously with bated breath.

Then, the whole crowd stood up to clap. You cringed slightly at the corniness of it all, but a royal family always had people feeling as though they were in a film. Everyone was cheering, applauding and laughing, happy that the young Prince who had done so much for them would be taking to the throne. Felix simply smiled, nodding and saying little ‘thank you’s in different directions to the crowd. He clapped his hands together triumphantly when Chan moved away, letting Felix take to the mic.

The crowd immediately went quiet, watching him expectantly. They still stood however, dressed in all their finery and looking a damn sight more comfortable in it than you thought you did. “Wow, thank you all for the praise,” He spoke, deep voice rasping over the speakers. You tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted at his deep tone. Now was not the time. “I want to thank you also for the support you’ve given towards my wife, soon to be the Queen Consort.” He motioned to you.

Oh, no. He was lying to their faces and there’s no chance in Hell they would deny it, is there? He was basically forcing their approval, forcing them to admit they liked you, all because you’d shown slight sadness at finding out they didn’t think you were worthy. He was doing it to make them praise you, make them appreciate you. It was kind of…

No, okay, it was really fucking sexy. Seriously, you groaned internally, do you ever stop thinking about sex?

“I appreciate it may have been difficult to understand when we got married. She’s not from a royal background like me, but she is of great poise and elegance. I personally can’t think of anyone better for my Queen Consort, and I’m sure you all agree,” You looked out at the crowd at his words, giving a soft wave. Surprisingly, you saw people start to nod and smile at you. Did your outing the other day work? Or did Felix’s speech just demand respect for you? Either way, you were pleased.

You planned to show Felix just how pleased you were.

Later on, in the festivities, you even found the same noble from the night of your engagement party coming over to speak to you. He stood in front of you again, salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly. You blanched. He’d cornered you last time and you’d panicked. You’d have to do better this time. You stood with a plate of cheeses and fruit in your hand, having been picking at the selection since Felix abandoned you to go and speak to someone regarding his plans for foreign alliances.

“Oh, hello,” You bowed, rather gracefully if you did say so yourself. He bowed in return, smiling brightly. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Indeed, I am,” He responded. You looked out to the crowd of people eating and drinking wine. Where the fuck was Felix when you needed him, for Christ’s sake? “I do hope to apologise to you, however. I admit we all had our hesitations about you becoming Queen Consort, if the rumours of Chris’ abdication were to be true.”

“Oh. Wow. Yes, I understand.” You were feeling timid, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. You bit on a small block of cheese just to have something to do while he stared you down.

“I wish to apologise for that, Princess. We were very quick to judge. You’ve since shown such elegance, on the outing with the two foreign Princesses. It was lovely to see you enjoying it in such a sophisticated manner,” He praised you. You blushed even harder, grabbing another tiny piece of cheese from the plate held in your hand to chew on. You were going to stink of cheese if you didn’t stop eating out of awkwardness, you thought. “That, and it’s very impressive that you continue to be by the Prince’s side.”

Wow. This guy was actually being so nice. He hadn’t even dropped any bomb questions on you like before, maybe-

“Any plans for heirs soon, may I ask?” There it was. You choked on your piece of cheese, covering your mouth and trying to cough it down. God, please go down, you thought, you can’t fucking risk spitting cheese out on this guy. Weirdly, the guy simply laughed, a bellowing laugh that echoed around the hall but didn’t cause anyone to jolt in surprise. “I do love asking questions like that, I am sorry. I’ll leave you to continue with your night.”

You managed to swallow the piece of cheese. You waved at him a bit too late, as he’d already started to walk away laughing, but you still shouted out after him. “Lovely to speak to you!” Oh, God. Could you get any more fucking awkward?

You both arrived back to your room late, the sun already down and the moonlight glowing through the curtains. Felix immediately stripped off to his boxers, grumbling about the suit being tight and too ‘constrictive’. You giggled, kicking your heels off and joining him on the bed when he sprawled out on it, arms splayed wide.

You laid your head on his chest, still in your dress that you’d shucked up to your hips with your movement onto the comfortable bed. You just couldn’t be bothered to get changed yet, worn out from the big day. He’d pulled the canopy down on the four posters around the bed before you’d left, and the sheer fabric obscured you slightly from the rest of the room. “Did so well today, Pixie.”

“Mm, yeah?” His chest vibrated with the deep timbre of his voice, his arm curling around you to hold you tighter. “I’m glad. I really tried to do well, sugarplum. They like you now.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “Only because you told them to, baby.”

“Hey, absolutely not. Peachgate worked a charm,” Felix mused. You’d had so much fun devouring all of the peaches afterwards, and your kisses had tasted of the sweet juice for hours later.

You blushed at the thought of your kisses with each other, normally wet and filthy. Oh, yeah. You almost forgot you’d been planning on showing him just how well he’d done.

“Lixie?”

“Yeah, sugarplum?”

“You really did so well today,” You shifted, still laying on your side but starting to kiss his neck. His head rolled to the side to give you better access, him immediately understanding what you intended to do. “Wanna show you, yeah? I wanna show you how good you are, Pixie.”

Felix groaned when you bit slightly into his collarbone, fingers winding to push your hair out of your face so he could see you. “You gonna let me have that sweet pussy?”

“Hmm, maybe later,” You mused, fingers moving to brush against the waistband of his underwear. His jaw went slack instantly at the contact. “Gonna suck this cock first. Want to worship you, is that okay?”

Felix nodded, his breath coming out heavy now. “Of course, sugarplum. You’re gonna let me cream that pretty mouth, yeah?”

Oh. You stifled a moan, nodding frantically in response. Then, you said something that would mortify you in any other situation, but you had a feeling it would break Felix’s brain. “Absolutely, my King.”

Felix’s eyes widened. With a swift movement, he was grabbing your waist, kissing you chastely as if he was apologising for what he was about to do. He pushed you down between his legs by his shoulder, your face positioned just slightly above his boxers. His cock was already starting to fatten with arousal, thickness pressing against the fabric and rendering it sheer like the canopy surrounding you.

“You better get my cock in that mouth now or so help me God.”

You blinked up at him in surprise. It took a moment before you realised what you had intended to do, and your fingers were dragging down his boxers, revealing the cock you were so well-acquainted with. This time, your eyes focused on the full, heavy balls underneath his shaft too. You wanted them in your mouth.

Leaning forward, you ran your tongue over his leaking cockhead before curling your fingers around the base of his length. Felix let out a shuddering breath, encouraging you to continue. With a swift movement, you sunk your head down to engulf the amount of his length that you could manage without choking, using your hand to pump the rest.

“O-Oh, yeah. That’s good,” Felix hummed, spreading his legs wider for you to have greater access to him. You continued to bob your head, tongue swirling around the underside of his shaft up to his cockhead. You swallowed down any precum that accumulated in the slit. Ensuring the blowjob got wet and messy with spit, you pulled off to pump his shaft, slick with the remnants of your mouth. In a brief moment of confidence, you lowered your head and then you were sucking his balls into your mouth.

He jolted sharply, almost kicking you. He let out a high, broken moan, letting you swirl your tongue around his balls and suck sharply. “Ah- ah, that’s filthy, fuck- yeah, yeah, sugarplum, shit, that’s it. Dirty girl.”

You moaned against his skin, letting his balls slide out of your mouth with a pop and returning to suckle on his cockhead. He let one hand go down to your head, pushing your hair back off of your face so he could see you, and you gazed up at him with wide eyes.

“D-Don’t stop looking at me like that, sugarplum,” Felix slurred out, grabbing you softly by the hair to pull you off of his cock. “Fuck, can I…? Hhnnng- can you- can you open your mouth, stick your tongue out, please? Fuck, always thought about this, shit.”

You felt yourself burst with happiness at those words - that he’d always imagined this, before you followed his instructions. You opened your mouth and let your tongue loll out obediently. Before you could process why he’d asked you to do this for him, he was gripping his length and slapping the cockhead against your tongue. You could feel humiliation pooling inside of you, but it was overwhelmed by intense arousal.

Felix started to jerk his cock in front of your face, his small hand making it look so thick. He was frantic, jerking at his shaft intensely while he looked at you, grunting every so often when his cockhead managed to hit your tongue again. It was so filthy.

“That- oh, oh, yeah, that’s it- fuck- gonna, gonna-“ He let out another high, broken sound as ropes of white cum started to cover your tongue. You were quick to wrap your lips back around his tip, suckling and milking his balls of the rest of the cum he had to give you. Eventually, he fell back boneless, his eyes hazy. “Oh my God.”

You giggled, licking your lips clean. Weirdly enough, you felt so content that you’d worshipped his cock so well that you didn’t feel the need for your own orgasm, sidling up to him in bed. “Good?”

“Good?” Felix scoffed, turning to look at you. Once he looked at you he giggled cutely, leaning to nuzzle his nose against yours. He pulled you in closer before he spoke. “Fucking amazing, sugarplum. You blew my fucking mind.”

“You blow mine everyday, Pixie.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were a Queen Consort. Officially, in full blown fucking writing. Black and white. Plain as day, your name, followed by the title of Queen Consort in swirly, intricate writing. Shit was getting serious. You were the Queen Consort, and the love of your life was the King.

The coronation had gone well. It was a process you’d honestly zoned out a little for, beneath all of the finery and decorations draped around the palace. There’d been a horse and carriage, or something. You weren’t sure. You honestly weren’t as involved as you’d presumed.

You had stood in front of the kingdom, however - it was being broadcasted on TV also for the people who couldn’t attend - when they’d announced your brand new title. Your mother had bawled. The Queen herself had actually also sobbed. Everyone in the crowd had even cheered, so they really did like you now.

You thought of your journey, from a scarred-knees type of kid in your long white socks who followed Felix around intently to where you were now. Some days, you still felt like a fraud - this had all happened in a few months. You’d gone from believing your love was unrequited, never to be returned to being married to the only man you’d ever love. You even got to fuck him every night, so that was a bonus.

You’d held a bouquet of baby’s breath at the coronation on Felix’s request. Blinking down at it while people cheered, you felt weirdly content. You’d do your best to serve the country, even if you still felt like the same young girl with an unrequited love for her best friend.

When his dainty hand was placed upon the small of your back and a small kiss was pressed to your forehead, wholly real and unfalse despite the fact that you were in front of so many people, you shook that thought out of your head. You were there, present and a different person to what you’d previously been.

It had taken a while to get here, but one thing you were absolutely sure of: you’d been in love with Lee Felix for as long as you could remember, and he loved you back unconditionally.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Epilogue

You stared at the offending object in front of you. Was it offending, really? Hadn’t you both wanted this, even beneath the whole dirty talk facade of it all?

The pregnancy test felt like it was taunting you, two blue lines clear as day. What the actual fuck? It made sense, really, you mused, finger tapping your chin comically as you thought. You’d been feeling nauseous, yeah. You’d missed your period, and maybe your tummy was feeling a little bloated and swollen. All the signs of a baby, really.

Okay, yeah. It made perfect sense. You were fucking pregnant.

When the door to your room shut, you panicked. You’d been in the ensuite staring at the test for so long that you’d completely forgotten that Felix was due home at any point now. You didn’t know what the fuck to do, and in your brief panic, you wrapped the pregnancy test up in toilet roll and attempted to flush the test down the toilet. Not your brightest moment, you’ll admit.

Especially when the toilet water started rising, and your heart started beating extremely quickly.

A knock on the door made you exclaim in surprise, pressing your back against the bathroom door as if the lock wouldn’t stop him from coming in. You had to have that extra barricade. You looked down at your tummy, hand smoothing over your skin. There was a whole fucking baby in there. Okay, no, it probably wasn’t a baby yet. It was just a bunch of cells chilling in your womb with no care in the world, if a bunch of cells could even think and contemplate life.

“Sugarplum? Are you in there?”

Your eyes widened. Oh, no. “U-Um, yeah. Welcome back Lixie. You can’t come in.”

You heard a giggle from the other side of the door. “Why not? I’ve seen you pee before-“

You blushed, still staring at the toilet. The test floated in the water menacingly. You wanted to punch it, and then yourself. “Um. I’m not peeing, I’m in the shower.”

“Oh. Okay, I can’t hear it, but I’ll just… I’ll go then. See you when you’re done, sugarplum,” Felix was still chirping happily. You grimaced. He needed to know.

“Wait.” You turned around, taking a deep breath. You could practically feel his presence on the other side of the door, as if you were psychic. He was waiting patiently. You reached up, sliding the lock open and opening the door just a crack. He stared at you, eyes wide and gazing at your appearance. You most definitely weren’t in the shower, and were standing there awkwardly, fully clothed and cheeks red. He thought you looked absolutely radiant.

You thought he did, too. He’d been horseback riding by the looks of it, probably with Chan as he was visiting. He was still clad in tight trousers, boots taken off but a tight suit jacket still zipped up around his lithe frame.

“I got somethin’ to show you, so. Come in.”

Felix looked confused. You didn’t blame him. You opened the door wider and yanked him into the lavish ensuite. He stood there with his eyes closed and lips pursed, trembling as if he was very close to laughing at your expense. You pointed at the toilet, trying hard not to be bothered at his amusement.

“Look.”

You knew this would appear insane to anyone else, but Felix’s eyes opened anyway, staring at the toilet. The pregnancy test still floated there, bobbing like an apple in a tub of water on Halloween.

“I tried to flush it. I dunno why. Panicked.”

“Is that-? Sugarplum…?” He was speechless. Oh God. You nodded anyway, clutching onto his arm as if you were scared he’d run. “That’s a pregnancy test?”

You nodded again.

He took a deep breath. “And it’s…? It’s in the toilet. Why is it in the toilet, sugarplum?”

“Um. I flushed it, because it’s positive, and I panicked when you got back,” You blushed. You were so fucking stupid sometimes. “I’m pregnant. Didn’t know how to tell you, so… I’m just telling you.”

Felix blinked. “Isn’t it kinda menacing right now? It’s just staring at us.”

You gasped. “That is exactly what I thought, isn’t it so fucking creepy? It’s like a knife or something. Sinister.”

It seemed that in that moment, the reality of the situation hit Felix, and he turned to you, looking at your belly with wide eyes. He looked up at you. Then yet again, he looked at your belly.

Then, he let out a blood-curdling yell, picking you up and swinging you around the room. You screamed in surprise, clenching onto his shoulders.

“You’re pregnant! Shit! You’re pregnant, oh my God! We’re gonna have a little mini me running around,” Felix was still yelling as he ran with you in his arms back to the room. He looked as if he was going to throw you onto the bed for a cuddle, but instead, he chose to place you down delicately after having a moment to think. He was smiling from ear to ear, moving to his knees to deliver a sweet peck to your tummy. “Little baby in there. Mini me. Or mini you. Little fucking bean.”

“It’s just a bunch of cells right now, Lix,” You giggled when he kept kissing your belly. “It’s not a living thing.”

“No, but it will be my baby. I’m gonna wait on you hand and foot, not gonna be allowed to do anything for nine months. Y’hear me, sugarplum?” You nodded in response. He started muttering in disbelief. “Fuckin’ pregnant. No wonder you’ve been looking so radiant, sugarplum. I’ve been wanting to fuck you senseless every day!”

You gasped at his words, and again when he was quickly looming over you to give you your own kisses.

You moaned when he started kissing your neck. “‘M gonna fuck you senseless, sugarplum. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you more, Pixie, my King.”

END.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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showtoonzfan · 8 months

Text

Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!

PROS:

- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?

- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.

- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman

Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭

CONS:

So for a quick short summary, this episode:

- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.

- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.

- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.

- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.

- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.

- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.

-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.

But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)

- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.

- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.

- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑

- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.

- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.

- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.

- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.

- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️

— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.

- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.

- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.

- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍

- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”

- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.

-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.

- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.

- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.

- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.

God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.

Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #helluva boss #fizzaroiii #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss oops #helluva boss review #vivziepop criticism

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highvern · 6 months

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Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive, idiots in love, they’re both big ol’ chickens

Warnings: drinking

Length: ~1k

Note: idiots to lovers is my favorite trope :) I might write some drabbles based on this pair in the future

Sequel: Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II

Related Drabbles:

Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]

Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]

“You’re cute.” You giggle, dragging out the last syllable in a whine.

Mingyu’s blood freezes, caught between wanting to feed into your drunken stupor and wanting to push you off completely. You’re too close. The smell of your shampoo and perfume clouding his nose, palm burning against the muscle of his chest, teasing smile and hooded gaze drawing him in. The booth in the corner of the packed club was a godsend after hours of dancing and drinking but now Mingyu thinks it might be the place where he dies from cardiac arrest.

You two had been friends for years but lately your relationship toed the line. The friendly dynamic shifted at some point, subtle at the time but echoing loud and clear now. Like a stream changed into rapids before you noticed, sucking one in and swallowing them whole. Lingering touches gave way to heated gazes; tension palpable but never acknowledged. And because neither of you said anything, nothing ever happened; one person always retreating before reaching the point of no return.

Of course the first time you admit any sort of attraction to him is when you’re three sheets to the wind and can barely stand straight. Mingyu himself is no better, mind fogged with the liquor pumping through his veins courtesy of the shots Soonyoung kept distributing. Mingyu can’t speak, tongue dry from the words dying in his throat. All he can see, smell, and feel is you; pressed against him in a way that is less than friendly.

You don’t even bother to conceal the way your eyes are trained on Mingyu’s mouth, mind far away. All your thoughts focus on if his lips are as soft as they look. If you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? Would he let you touch him? Would he touch you?

Mingyu watches with baited breath as you lean infinitesimally closer, eyes sliding shut, chin lifting slightly. But you’re drunk, and the grace you think you possess left the building long ago. You end up collapsing face first into Mingyu’s neck, lips sliding against the hot skin causing the muscles underneath to jump in surprise. You’ve already accepted the change of direction, now content to take a rest in the crook of his shoulder as the thud of music lulls you closer to sleep.

“W—“ Mingyu clears his throat, “we should go.”

You hum in agreement but make no effort to move away.

“Y/N, baby,” he shakes you gently, “let’s go home.”

With Herculean effort, and gentle prodding from your best friend, you leave the safety and warmth of Mingyu’s body to shimmy out of the booth. When Mingyu gets up after you, he places his hand to the small of your back to guide you to the exit.

Once outside, you wrap around each other again, like magnets that can’t be pulled apart. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Mingyu uses his free hand to order an Uber, resting his chin on your head while the app loads.

“We didn’t say bye to everyone.” You mumble into his T-shirt.

“They’ll be fine.” Mingyu laughs, focusing on his phone.

“You said that last time and Chan still called at 3am to ask if we got home safe.”

We. The simple word has Mingyu’s ears turning red. We, like you’re a couple. We, like you're going home to an apartment you share rather than the one you live alone in and he finds himself crashing at more and more frequently. He brushes off the thought, choosing to focus on getting a car as soon a possible.

Not one to be ignored, you turn your gaze upwards, chin now resting against Mingyu’s sternum. The shift breaks his attention from his phone and he looks down his nose at you.

“Just text the group, pretty sure a few of them left already anyway.” He dares to drop a quick kiss to your furrowing brow, pleased when it relaxes under his lips.

“Ubers here.” Mingyu steps back, snagging your hand to pull you behind him.

The ride home is a blur. The heat of Mingyu’s arm under your cheek and the way his fingers play with yours on his lap keep you from falling asleep completely but you remain in the hypnotic state between wakefulness and dreams. Here you can pretend Mingyu is your doting boyfriend, that all the sweet drunk kisses and daring touches have a deeper meaning.

When you feel the car slow to a stop you open your eyes to the driver pulling up to the curb in front of your apartment. Mingyu is gently ushering you out of the backseat and into the warmth of the lobby as quickly as possible.

While waiting for the elevator, you invade his space once more. In your mind, the need for warmth is the perfect excuse to disregard the usual touching limit you impose on yourself. It’s easy to get addicted to having Mingyu like this and you dread the hurt that’ll come if you let yourself be too greedy. But tonight, you let your arms wrap around his waist once again and fall into him.

When the elevator chimes its arrival, Mingyu tries to keep your bodies intertwined and walk you backwards into the compartment. He stumbles the entire way, having to balance for two since you’re barely trying to hold yourself up. All you can do is whine at him to be more careful and he does everything he can not to crowd you against the wall and kiss you until you’re both gasping for air.

More stumbles, more giggles, and a crushed foot later, you finally make it into your apartment. Shoes discarded at the door, you pull Mingyu down the hall to your room. You change into your pajamas in silence, an oversized T-shirt for you (Mingyu doesn’t comment on the fact that it looks suspiciously like the one he noticed missing weeks ago), and a pair of sweat shorts for him (you don’t comment on how his bare chest is giving you less than friendly thoughts). As you both dive under the covers, moving to settle yourselves amongst the soft sheets, sleep rushes to takeover.

You’re mumbling something against Mingyu’s chest that he can’t quite decipher but the movement of your lips on his bare skin makes his heart lurch and his stomach twist in knots. However, it's the gentle kiss you leave on his collarbone before drifting into your dreams that leaves his mind in a tailspin.

Tomorrow. He thinks. He’ll tell you everything he’s feeling tomorrow.

#svthub #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #svt x reader #🫡 highvern #kim mingyu x reader #dghe couple

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four-of-them-showdown · 4 months

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Miku, Rin, Len, Luka:

No propaganda!

Jay, Cole, Kai, Zane:

"They're my friends, they've been a team for over 10 years now and I've been there that whole time :)"

"Why shouldn't they win? They're little gay skittles. Or they're brothers. You choose"

"JUMP UP KICK BACK WHIP AROUND AND SPIN (sorry i am very passionate about the legos but too tired to form like. real sentences. please imagine something written about how they're cool and fueled my childhood or something)"

"OK SO

They’re the OG members of the ninja team and shipping all four of them together is popular and is very gay it’s called polyninja and it’s amazing and let me break down the dynamics of each of them

Zane x Jay: Technoshipping

Robot x their mechanic trope goes brrrr. Zane is a logical and smart one, and Jay is chaotic and kinda a disaster. Zane is the autism to his adhd and they are very fun <3

Zane x Kai: Oppositeshipping

Ha ha opposites attract trope goes brrr. Again, Zane is logical and smart, whereas Kai is impulsive (and also smart just in a different way). Both of them feel emotions strongly but process them in different ways and I have to end it here before I write an essay about how ZANE was the one who with a single meaningful look and touch to the arm told him it was too late to go back, how Lloyd mentioned KAI to try and restore Zane’s memories when he had amnesia, how- (You get the picture)

Zane x Cole: Glaciershipping

Mom friend x Dad friend. I have realized that his is getting long so I am going to be much briefer now

Jay x Kai: Plasmashipping

Two adhd/add idiots being stupid together <3

Jay x Cole: Bruiseshipping

Best friends to lovers what more could you want (don’t start me on this one they have so much chemistry)

Kai x Cole: Lavashipping

I am bad at words for this one but just trust me they’re a Vibe ok they’re a Vibe

Zane x Jay x Kai x Cole: Polyninja

THEY ARE STUPID, GAY, AND IN LOVE, YOUR HONOR"

#vocaloid #lego ninjago #hatsune miku #kagamine rin #kagamine len #megurine luka #jay walker #cole brookstone #kai smith #zane julien #polls #four of them showdown #round 1 #OBSESSED with the propaganda for this one

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urrockstar-xe · 1 year

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meant for each other - j.m x fem!reader

posted april 30th, 2023, 9:23 pm

pure fucking fluff this is so cutesy im sry

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

“What do you see in him?”

Sarah’s question made you laugh. What did you see in him? Please,

When you looked at JJ you saw the stars that scattered the sky the night you shared your first kiss, you saw the sunlight coming in through your curtain, shining perfectly over the boy lying fast asleep in your bed. You saw the waves crashing against you in the most comforting way possible.

When you looked at JJ you saw your safe space, your future, and a slight fear of ever relating to “the one that got away” by Katy Perry. This is ironic considering your entire life you’ve been practically preaching words like “You’re 16 he’s not the love of your life, he’s just some boy, don’t worry, the pain will end” but now you get it because if anything were to happen you probably wouldn’t shower a lot and you’d cry so much you’d end up the most dehydrated you’ve ever been.

But as Sarah and Kie giggled beside you, you didn’t say all that. You simply responded, “What do you see in john b and fucking Topper?”

This threw the three of you into another fit of laughter as Kiara seconded what you said and Sarah defended her taste in men. You let her, and all of her points were valid. You didn’t defend your taste because it seemed impossible for anyone to understand.

And for the most part, you were right. Your friends would watch as you laughed at a stupid joke JJ made or how fast he’d do something simply because you’re the one who asked (“jj open this beer for me?” “Yes, ma’am”), they’d watch as you scold him for the hundredth time through tears because he takes the phrase “ride or dies” far too literally for your liking. They noticed every single time that JJ sat down how he’d nod towards you as a signal to come to sit by him, and how you happily obliged every time, whether it be in his lap or on the floor in front of him. (though when this is the case he’ll have you switch places while making some dirty joke about sitting between your legs which always ends in you shoving his shoulder and him using your thigh as a pillow). They notice how gentle you act towards him whenever there's a new bruise on his cheek or cut on his lip. They notice all of it and for the last 2 years (1 year and 3 months of friendship, 8 months of something more) John B will say “They’re meant for each other,” and his two friends would nod and hum in agreement. Sarah caught on fairly fast to how you two were. The dynamic of two people who would do anything to prevent losing all they had.

The first time she fully noticed just how bad it was, happened a while back when John B was getting arrested and the cops had you all surrounded.

She saw the look that flashed in your eyes when you saw JJ prepping his gun for whatever idiotic idea he had in mind, she saw the sirens going off in your head as he watched John B direct JJ’s plan elsewhere and give himself up. The sirens didn’t stop until all of the cop cars and boats were scattering back to where they belonged. Leaving the group of pogues without their friend. But all you could think of was the image of your boyfriend murdered in front of you by a bunch of cops. Because yeah it didn’t happen but what if it had? Sarah had seen the way you pushed JJ back just to grab fistfuls of his shirt and bring him right back to you, “what the fuck was that, JJ? Huh? If they had even seen that gun you’d be bleeding out right now, No actually you’d probably be fucking dead” Pope tried to intervene but he was quickly shut up by Kiara pulling him back to her side, silently telling him to leave you be. JJ was quiet, his eyes rapidly moving to follow the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands softly placed on your wrists to try and keep your hands from shaking more than they already had been.

“You always say that stupid shit about having nothing to lose but I fucking do JJ and it’s you, you’re what I have to lose and if you ever do some stupid shit like that again I swear to god-”

And at that moment, as Sarah saw you practically fall into him, sobbing into his shoulder while he held you together, she realized.

She saw what you saw, she saw everything you had, everything you needed, who happened to come in the form of a pretty and reckless teenage boy.

Now, months later, she watched as you were twirled in a circle by that very same boy. Smiling and Laughing as you danced under the tree lights at the chateau.

“They’re meant for each other” This time it was Sarah saying it, with a soft smile on her lips. Four people agreed in hums and nods. “They've always been like that?” Cleo’s question was immediately answered by groans and laughs, “only since the beginning of time,” Pope replied, “it’s like they're in their own little disgusting world,” Kie joked.

“I think it’s sweet,” Sarah said, “me too,” John B agreed.

#jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagines #outer banks imagines #obx imagine #Spotify

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tsukimefuku · 2 months

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The man who played with fire

After some drinks by yourself and getting frustrated with someone, you stupidly knock on Higuruma's door to test a theory.

To vibe: Misery - Maroon 5

Tags: +18 (!!!), WITH PLOT (there is always a plot), Jujutsu Kaisen, SMUT, f!reader, Higuruma x reader, some alcohol consumption, he's so in love, she's so clueless, reader is being kind of an asshole, oral sex, cunt-locking, penetration, light f!top x m!bottom dynamic, involves some love-triangle classic shenanigans.

WC: 3.4K

Hey, this is actually my first smut piece! Hope you guys enjoy my filth. This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). This is preceded specially by "Kindness and Sunflowers", link here. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

Fair warning: I like writing characters being humanely assholes and clueless idiots. Be warned.

"I can't believe this," you muttered to yourself. You were drinking alone at the bar, and the darkness served to hide your blushed-by-fury face. After what you called The Event, Nanami asked to talk, only to end up lecturing you about the shortcomings of a jujutsu sorcerer's life. As if you didn't know, given all the losses you had experienced over the years, precisely due to Tengen's established Jujutsu Society. "He can't be serious, lecturing me about this shit." Still talking to yourself, like a crazy person, you tried to let your anger go down with five cold pints of beer. It was definitely not working.

Your phone rang, and Nanami's name lit up on your screen, much to your annoyance. You immediately refused the call and flipped the phone down on the table, feeling all your rage bubbling up from the darkest depths of hell. You needed a release, any kind of release — an exorcism, most likely.

Or, you could try something else.

Peering around the bar, you started looking for someone that you could consider even remotely interesting — but no one, nothing, nada. Given this was a Tuesday night, there were only you and some monotonous people scattered around the murky lighting, encompassed by the noise of a few clicking glasses.

That was when your phone started to rumble to the sound of some text messages, and you grabbed it ready to pitch the phone across the vicinity, believing it was Nanami again. But, much to your surprise, it was actually Higuruma texting you. You were so angry that you had completely forgotten to talk to him today.

He was basically asking how you were, given that you hadn't texted back since yesterday, and you were both chatting on a daily basis for weeks by this point.

That was when you had a greatly horrible (or horribly great?) idea. After all, how could a decision made under the influence, at night, while angry at someone you knew you had feelings for, be bad? This is fine.

"Are you busy right now?" You sent him, feeling the beer breeze warmly through your nostrils every time you exhaled. You have a crush on him, but that's it, this is fine. And oh, you did. Ever since you dropped him off in his apartment the night he was freed from Jujutsu High's headquarters, you knew that there was definitely something stirring up — at least from your end. Higuruma was drunk, he didn't make a move, and could just have been kind of clingy, to be honest, so you decided to let it go for the time being. Every time you got a little too excited to meet or talk to him recently, you reminded yourself very sternly you weren't a schoolgirl.

But you wouldn't let it go today, because today, you really wanted to know.

"Nothing, really. I just got home." Higuruma promptly answered.

"Can I come over?" You texted back, and locked your screen right after, instantly anxious and eager at the same time. What the fuck is wrong with me? What am I thinking? What am I doing? This can't be a good ide-

"Of course, I'd be delighted." He replied. "And then you could actually see the sunflower is doing very well, in spite of me."

You left the money on the counter and ran off, shushing your thoughts out loud.

***

This was a terrible idea, but I think I can just hang out for an hour, make small talk and then leave, you started to negotiate mentally with yourself right after the three knocks on the door gave some sanity back to your brain.

However, after Higuruma opened the door and cocked his head to lean it against the door frame, you knew you were completely doomed. He had the top of his white shirt unbuttoned, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up enough for you to see his beautifully defined forearms. His hair had the perfect messy-I-just-got-home look to it, and you instantly wanted to drive your hands through his pitch black locks.

Oh shit, you thought to yourself, feeling something stir up in your body — and it surely wasn't anger.

It must have been a moment, because he started to look a little puzzled. "Hey, come in." Higuruma said, as if he was repeating himself. Did you not hear him the first time he invited you in?

"Of course. Thank you." You replied, looking down and hushing yourself inside his apartment. You could feel your face burning, and imagined how much of an idiot you were being right now for ever believing this could go anything but wrong.

"Are you okay? You seem out of sorts." He pointed out, closing the door behind him. "Can I get you anything? I got some beer from the convenience store, and there might be water somewhere in the kitchen."

"I'm fine, I just ran here to get some cardio." You clumsily replied, sitting on the couch. "I came from the bar, actually. Already drank some beers. No need."

Higuruma huffed out a soft chuckle, still a little confused, but now intent on prying. "You're not helping your case. You mean to say that you, a jujutsu sorcerer that exercises heavily, decided to get some cardio done while walking under the influence, from a bar, at night, to meet me?"

"Yes. That's what I meant. Quit prying." You responded, not knowing what the hell else you could say. Tell him that you came rushing just so you wouldn't have the time for second guessing on having s- no, you wouldn't do that.

"Hm." He hummed to himself, grabbing a can and sitting beside you, bouncing the sofa slightly. "I mean, I'm always happy to have you come over, but the only time you came here was to bring me drunk from a bender. And to get me flowers."

"Get you a sunflower, because yours had died." You corrected.

"Precisely, a sunflower." Higuruma replied, taking a sip from his beer. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just wanted to see you." You said, earnestly. And deep down, it was true, if only half of it.

Higuruma immediately seemed content, even if he only had a small smile to show for it on his face. "Oh."

You were both silent for a moment.

"I never got to repay you for your kindness that day." He said, out of the blue, taking you by surprise.

"It was nothing." You said, shrugging. "I just got you home and gave you a flower."

"Oh, if I remember correctly…" He began.

"Do you remember anything?" You asked, mockingly.

He looked at you, slightly grinning, and continued. "You had to blow up my lock to bust us in. In some places, that would be considered a felony."

"You're saying I could get arrested for busting into a home while I'm with the man that lives there?"

"You also used explosives and damaged the door, let's not forget that." Higuruma said in a mix of playful and matter-of-factly.

"I couldn't ask, because you were completely wasted! Just getting your address was a pain in the ass."

He chuckled. "Was it?"

"Yes, it was." You replied, more relaxed, thanks to coming back to your old banter. This came for the both of you so naturally that you barely realized Higuruma had rested his arm on the sofa right behind you, leaning closer. "Higuruma, why did you drink so much that night?"

That question surprised him, as you could deduct from his eyes widening lightly. He put his beer can on the coffee table and ran his fingers through his hair, inhaling deeply. "I don't know. I guess-" he stuttered for a moment. "I guess I was just nervous to be out again, finally and properly going for a drink with..." his last word lingered on the air, as he unconsciously looked at your eyes, and then your lips, "with you all."

"Do you remember what you said when we got here?" You asked, shamelessly staring at his lips too.

"I believe I said, 'you are too kind'." Higuruma leaned over even further, and you felt his entire body go rigid for a second as you drifted closer to him, heat crawling all over your skin, putting your forehead to his. After some seconds, he rested the palm of his hand over your knee, and from how needy you felt for that man at that particular moment, even such a small thing was enough to make you trip over to the other side.

You immediately crushed your lips to his, putting your hands behind his head. You kissed him eagerly, letting out an extremely faint moan as you drove your fingers over his hair — he tasted like beer, his worn off cologne from the day was completely intoxicating, and you found yourself nearly lunging at the man like a starved animal. Realizing what just happened, you pulled back, starting to apologize, eyes wide and face completely flustered. "Higuruma, I'm so sor-"

Your apologies were cut short with his own lips now clashing into yours in a passionate kiss, as he pushed you under his weight to lay on the couch, his fingers interlocking in your hair strands from the back of your head. His hips effortlessly slid in between your legs as your hands made their way to brush his shoulders, and you let out another moan against his lips, this time much louder, thanks to the dry pressure of his now bulging pants against your clothed core. Higuruma groaned satisfied in response, tracing the outline of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Your mind was becoming hazy, and he parted from your lips for a moment to gaze at your face. His eyes were locked on you, studying every feature and investigating for any sign of discomfort or second thoughts.

You caught up on that and made your way inside his slightly open mouth with your own tongue, intertwining it with his in between gasps and huffs. Now you separated just enough to breathlessly say, "Bed. Now."

You gasped against his mouth, before holding yourself throwing your arms behind his neck and locking your legs on his waist, grinding on him. He moaned loudly at this stimulation, before smiling sheepishly and putting both of his hands on the back of your thighs for support, knowing full well you meant for him to carry the both of you into the bedroom.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied, propping the both up and then lifting from the couch. Higuruma pressed open-mouthed kisses all around the nape of your neck, as he walked towards a dark room, parting his hands from you just to switch the light on. "I want to see you," he said, breathing heavily against your skin, as he threw you on the bed, climbing on top, one hand to each side of your head as he stared at you with a lustful look in his eyes. You instantly pulled his loosened tie to kiss him again, and he lost balance, basically falling with his body over yours. You whimpered at the feeling of having his now full-blown clothed erection grinding against your core, and involuntarily opened your legs to accommodate his hips over yours.

Higuruma started to take off his tie and shirt, and you followed suit, removing your top and bra. He basked on the sight of you, and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His digits felt rough, and frictioned just the right amount against you, as he squeezed both of them, satisfied and reverent. His hands started traveling down your figure, contouring every curve, hill, and valley of your body, reaching the edge of your pants. "May I?" He asked, his face lightly blushed as he awaited your response. You nodded, and he promptly unzipped you, pulling your pants and panties down, the slight stimulation from the fabric sliding over your legs being enough to make you mewl with satisfaction. Every nerve in you was incandescent with absolute hunger for him.

You opened your legs, and he could see you were already completely wet from arousal. Letting out an audible satisfied moan, Higuruma began tracing your belly with his mouth, planting long kisses as he went down, leaving a trail of heat wherever his lips touched. As he got near your core, he kissed one last time one of your thighs, and sniffed on your folds. You smelled sinfully sweet, and he made no effort to hold back his eyes fluttering shut with pure bliss. "Could I, please?"

This was his prayer, the bed was his altar and he was determined to worship you.

Without a word, you simply grabbed the top of his hair and drove his mouth in between your legs, whimpering and mewling as his tongue started to rub against your clit. His chin would grind forward on your entrance whenever he changed the angle, and you involuntarily pushed yourself down when that happened. He noticed it, and slid his tongue inside you, eliciting a loud moan in response, with your walls clenching around it. He groaned back in appreciation, and his husky, low voice reverberated throughout your entire being. You arched your back, beginning to feel that familiar heat and fire pooling on your lower stomach.

"H-Higuruma... I-" You sighed, in between mewls and moans.

He immediately stopped and brought his face up to look at you. You let out a complaint sound, glaring at him to ask why he stopped.

"My dear, I'm literally with my face in between your legs, eating you out." He said, unfazed by your annoyance. "We're way past last names. Call me Hiromi."

Incredulous, you let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff, having the top inside of you wiggling its way out to the surface. You grabbed his hair strongly, and he cinched his eyebrows, cock twitching inside his pants, as the corner of his lips formed an open-mouthed smile. His eyes were softly resting on you, and he wouldn't mind if your naked, flushed body was the last thing he saw before he died.

"Shut up." You said, grinding your pussy against his mouth, and locking his head to your core with your legs tightly holding around him. Higuruma proceeded more eager than before, lapping at your clit relentlessly with his tongue, alternating with sucks that were having you seeing stars. He was absolutely pussy drunk with the heavenly taste of you and had, at this moment, relinquished any control, as he let you face fuck him chasing your release.

The heat came back again, and you closed your eyes, sinking the back of your head on a pillow. Waves were starting to form, and your orgasm hit you like the crashing water against the shore. You began to tremble and vibrate, coming hard in his mouth, and Higuruma feverishly drank you up, completely hypnotized with how amazing you tasted and felt, falling apart under his ministrations.

Letting you finish riding your high, licking gently on your overstimulated core, he waited until you were barely moving before removing his own pants and climbing his way back on top of you. As he got close enough to your face, you looked at him, completely flustered and debauched, resting the palm of your hand on his cheek. "Higuruma, I want you inside of me." His tongue, albeit magnificent, just wasn't enough, and you could feel the same anticipation and neediness coiling in your stomach again, as the tip of his cock rested on your entrance.

He looked at you and grunted, displeased. "Hiromi." Higuruma reached to the bedside table and pulled a condom. The movement had him rubbing his throbbing length, already leaking with pre-cum, right against you, forcing him to let out a strained groan.

You gasped at the sensation and chuckled at his annoyance right after, suddenly locking his hips in between your legs, rolling you both so that you would be on top of him. "We'll see, if you ask nicely." You replied, locking him in between your arms, hovering. Higuruma's eyes instantly softened, and his cheeks took a pinkish-red tint. "You're bossy." He said, turning his head towards your wrist and planting a chaste kiss on it, lingering with his lips for a moment on your skin. "I like it."

You smiled, more pleased than you'd like to admit it, because the both of you fit so well it was astonishing. You never thought it would be happening like this, and for a moment, it felt so right you wished you could be here forever. But nothing that good ever lasts long enough.

Grabbing the condom from him with one hand, you motioned the other to grab his neglected cock. As your fingers grasped around his length, Higuruma let out a satisfied and urgent moan, slowly arching himself under your touch. The sight of him completely pliable to your will had you fluttering, as you began to rub your hands up and down, pumping his girth to pleasure him. Higuruma plastered his palms over the plush of your thighs, and groaned your last name, holding out on some kind of desperation.

"'Way past last names', huh?" You scoffed, playfully, starting to slide the condom over his cock before he could hit you with any witty comeback. After, you positioned yourself above him, holding his length against your entrance, and started to slowly descend over it, feeling it thrust in you to the brim, stretching your walls as he bottomed out. You both let out a gasp, now connected, and you waited a moment to adapt and take all of him in.

"Come here." You said, pulling on his shoulder for him to sit up, so that you could feel and touch every inch of him. He obliged, and sat up, immediately driving his mouth to kiss your neck insistently, brushing the tip of his tongue on the edge of your jaw. Higuruma began to rock his hips, and you did the same, each in the opposite direction, so that his cock would slide in and out of your pussy easily.

You moaned against his scalp, and he held his hands to the small of your waist, leaning you backwards to suck on your breasts. The moment his mouth latched onto one breast, he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, eliciting loud moans and mewls from you. You had your head dangling back, as he began to thrust into you quicker and harder. He slid the hand previously on your waist to the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a kiss, taunting your mouth with his tongue. You opened it, and both your tongues intertwined, as he, now, chased his own release, panting and groaning into your lips. You weren't so far off, feeling the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen, yearning for release.

"Higu-"

"Hiromi, please. P-please... Please..." He implored and begged, kissing desperately your jawline. You lowered your gaze and met his eyes softer and more tender than you had ever seen, so urgently pleading for you to let him in, give him this inch of intimacy, and that was the moment you caved. You pressed your forehead against his, and started to cry out his name. "Hiromi... H-Hiromi..."

Letting out moans and groans in between the squelching from your juices, he pulled you impossibly close, eyes piercing and locked onto yours. This was the moment you felt more naked, bare and vulnerable the entire night, and the coil that had formed in your belly snapped, sending waves of pure pleasure from the tip of your head to your toes. Feeling your gummy walls clenching all around him, Higuruma also hit his orgasm intensely, thrusting into you fervently to ride off his high. He stopped slowly, ready to crumble underneath you at any moment.

"Hiromi-" You said, brushing your lips against his cheek, then under his ear. "Hiromi, Hiromi, Hi-ro-mi. Happy? Just for tonight, though."

Higuruma chuckled soulfully, realizing how much he absolutely loved the sound of his name on your tongue, purred through your whispered voice, reverberating on his flushed, sensitive skin. It made his body quiver and tremble with pure satisfaction.

It was right there, at that moment, with his heart fluttering while you leaned back to gaze at him, stroking his hair strands between your fingers with a gentle smile, that he realized just how fucked he actually was.

Sighing softly and smiling back, Higuruma pushed his lips against yours. He knew that by playing with fire, he was bound to get burned, eventually — and burned he was.

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #jjk smut

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juleswrites223 · 2 months

Text

Desi Girl

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x indian!reader

Context: Attending a desi wedding with bae

ps: No specific faceclaim, i got every image from pinterest. Desi girls need some love too and i love carlos so i thought he would be the perfect fit for this.

yourusername

yourusername shaadi (wedding) time!!

ps; not my shaadi, my sister's

tagged: carlossainz55

landonorris where's my invite

yourusername remember the time we invited you for diwali and you almost burned yourself bc YOU INSISTED TO LIGHT FIRECRACKERS WITH MY BROTHER landonorris no regrets yourusername you almost died dummy landonorris like i said no regrets carlossainz55 .... ynloversz i love how carlos is so used to their banter that he stays out of it lest he too face the wrath of y/n yncarlos tired older sister and annoying younger brother dynamic ynmylove the fact that she already has a younger brother who annoys tf outta her and now she gotta deal with lando and her lil bro mywifeyn my girl cant catch a break😭

charlesleclerc i wanted to come too...

yourusername you can come when we get married carlossainz55 what she said^^^

yummyyn they’re so in love😩😩😩

carlitoyn mother is mothering; daddy is daddying

ynwifey shes so so mommy😩

randohater yeah must be fun mooching off your millionaire bf

ynloversz oh someone hold me back im boutta get violent

mywifeyn its always these ignorant americans smh 🤦

ynmyqueen her family is hella rich and practically run almost everything in India so before hating on someone who is way richer and prettier than you, do your research cuz this is embarrassing for you.

f1wags

f1wags Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n in Jaipur, Rajasthan at her cousin sister's wedding. Both looking quite good in traditional indian outfit.

carlito55 OMG CARLOS IN A KURTA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT CARLOS IN A KURTA

carlyn MY JAW DROPPED. THEY LOOK SO GORGGGGG

Ynfanacc mother slaying as usual

yourusername

youusername with meri jaan (my life)🫶

tagged: carlossainz55

ynloversz “meri jaan”🥹

carlitoyn tell me why I’m crying

carlyn they love each other so much I’m crying

carlossainz55 tum meri jaan ho ❤️ (you are my life)

ynwifey Carlos replied in Hindi Oml I’m boutta cry

landonorris did yn help you type this or did you use google translate??😑

yourusername I may have helped a bit

carlossainz55 tu gadha hai (you’re an idiot) landonorris

yourusername now that’s all him, I’m so proud that he’s learning hindi 🥹 (btw my brother taught him that)

yourbrother roasteddd

Ynnnn55 they visited a temple together omlll

ynpyaar (pyaar means love) I literally met them today and they are even cuter and down to earth in real life.

yncarlos I love that even though both of them are really rich they’re still so down to earth which honestly makes them even more attractive

carlitoyn it’s not even just yn, but her entire family is also like that, honestly love her family, they’re such kind souls, it’s no surprise yn is too

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 with mi amor ❤️(my love)

yourusername I love you ❤️

carlossainz55 I love you more baby landonorris i see you have no shame yourusername what is our crime?? landonorris having fun without me yourusername 😐 carlossainz55 😐

yncarlos THE IT COUPLE!!!!

carlitoyn MISS MAAM YOUR OUTFIT!!!! THE HENNA ON YOUR FEET!!! THE FIRST PIC SO CUTE IM GONNA PASS OUT

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

ynwifey THEM DANCING IS SO ADORABLE

carlossainz55 posted a story

caption: everyone is tired 🫨

yourusername

caption: 🥳🥳

yourusername

caption: Congratulations didi (older sister) and jiju (brother in law)

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 fun couple of days with mi amor

tagged: yourusername

yourusername carlos drank so much chai, he has become a certified indian now🫡

carlossainz55 mazaa aaya (had fun) yourusername Im glad 😘

landonorris better get an invite to y'all's wedding

yourusername of course lando carlossainz55 could be any day now so you better check your mail ynloversz WHAT

carlitoyn always eating with the looks queen 😍

f1wags you guys are a beautiful couple truly ❤️

comments have been limited on this post...

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author's note: Y'all would not believe how much i enjoyed this. Ive been super inactive because ive been super busy with stuff plus with not wanting to write but hopefully im back and will be writing more stuff, a lot F1 related bc im into F1 rn.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula one imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc

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ahundredtimesover · 2 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (08) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you again for all your love and appreciation for this story. Srsly, I'm perpetually blown away 🥰 But like I've mentioned, updates will take longer after this as I return to uni, so I hope for your patience as we get closer to the end.

This chapter also contains triggering topics such as sexual harassment and attempted assault. There's a discussion on what happens after something traumatizing like that, so pls be cautious and know that what's depicted here is just another way of dealing with such experience.

On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The end-of-autumn chilly air pierces through your skin, lingering even as you settle inside the plant store that gives the warmth that you need. You sigh in relief, and Soomin and Jimin giggle at you because they know how you are. It’s why during moments like this, their affection shows, hugging you from each side as you look up at the shelf for another rubber tree you want to add to your collection.

“What are you two on about?” You ask, nonchalantly releasing your arm to get your chosen glossy plant.

“Nothing, just showing our love,” Soomin says, resting her chin on your shoulder. “We know you love the cold even if you easily get cold. You don’t like hugs either but you can’t do anything about us.”

“It’s true that I can’t do anything about the both of you,” you hum. “But you also know it’s not that I don’t like hugs. It’s just not my preferred form of affection.”

“Even after all the years that we’ve been giving it to you?” Jimin asks, as he pulls away from you to place the plant in your cart.

“Yeah. I mean, if I only give or receive it every few weeks, then it wouldn’t be,” you respond. “But I also wouldn’t really know. Other than you guys, there’s not much affection I feel towards other people.”

It’s a reality you’ve long accepted. You’re away from your family and friends, and the only other form of affection you receive is through sex with the few men you’ve been interested in - pleasurable at best, shallow at worst. Perhaps it’s the reason why you do, you think now. They’re still good substitutes. Being alone doesn’t feel so lonely when you’re intimate with people you don’t exactly share moments of intimacy with. You’ve learned these last few years that there’s a difference.

Your friends just hum in agreement, choosing now to point out that your home is transforming into some zen garden with the amount of plants you’ve bought just this last month.

“Should I just be a gardener or a plant store worker?” You look at them. “Or study to become a landscape designer?”

“Honey, tending to low-maintenance plants is a different thing,” Soomin chuckles. “That’s a start, though. But kidding aside, so a career change is what you’re going for?”

“Hmm, just a thought,” you shrug. “What if moving companies isn’t just what I need? What if it’s doing something completely different? Like being out of an office or answering to someone or something?”

“That’s true. Sometimes we find what we’re looking for in unfamiliar environments,” Jimin chimes in. “Are you thinking about doing it soon?”

“Maybe not,” you say. “I’ve become quite invested in the Arts Center and I really wanna see it through. Maybe after it’s opened, then that’s when I’ll finally step away.”

“Well, you have been doing a lot of work for it,” Soomin agrees. “But… are you sure it’s the only thing holding you back? And not someone specific? A boss, maybe?”

“The Arts Center isn’t holding me back, Soo. And neither is Jungkook,” you state. “After all the years I spent in the company, I don’t wanna let anything or anyone keep me from doing what’s best for me. I don’t… I don’t wanna get stuck there. I don’t wanna keep feeling indebted. That’s what’s held me back this whole time.”

“Oh, hun,” Soomin sighs. “You don’t owe anyone anything. And if you did, you’ve paid your dues, all eight years of them.”

As Jimin heads out to get his car, she entangles her arm around yours and asks again if your decision to wait to resign has something to do with Jungkook.

“Why are you so insistent?” You frown at her.

“Just… wondering. You haven’t expressed disdain for him in so long. Even the weekly ugh work drives me nuts messages have stopped, and that says a lot. I was just thinking that maybe he’s gone soft on you, and that you’ve gone soft on him, too. I just wanna make sure I’m ready when you drop the bomb on us or something. I mean, you two have so much tension, who knows what’ll happen?”

“Okay, what if I’ve just developed better coping mechanisms now and can manage without complaining about it? That’s a possibility. And, even if I’ve been busy with organizing events and stuff, I actually enjoy that,” you explain.

“Okay. So what about Jungkook?”

You look away, knowing that any acknowledgment of the comfort you’ve started to feel around him may start to mean something else once you say it. Admitting even the tiniest bit of attraction is even more of a no-no, so you just play it off, the same way you did when you got home from the gala and you dodged all questions about him, choosing instead to talk about the delicious food and the weird people you met.

“We’ve found a way to move on from how we started and learned that we actually work really well together. We have to be professional and all that.”

Right, you scoff to yourself. Thinking about your boss’ smile as you fall asleep is anything but professional.

“Fine, whatever you say,” she gives in as the car comes into view. “Just know that I’m here, okay? Jimin’s a bit protective and still hasn’t gotten over how that man treated you so you can talk to me in case anything else changes.”

“I will,” you say, giving her hand a squeeze.

You spend the rest of that weekend watching movies and singing your hearts out at a karaoke and stuffing your faces with good food. Before you know it, you’re back in your bed on a Sunday, all alone, but you don’t feel so lonely, nor do you feel so terrible at having to start another week. If anything, you’re wondering how Jungkook spent these last two days. At a club, maybe. He did say there’s always a party he’s invited to.

You stop yourself from thinking of what happens after that. He’s got women at his beck and call after all, even when he’s in Singapore, as Lucas had told you during your call two months ago. But it doesn’t really matter - Jungkook is Jungkook and you’re you. And that’s not yet even considering the glaring reality of him being your boss.

Ever since the gala, you can say that there’s been a change in how you’ve been with him. There’s a lot more attention, you’d say. There’s more admiration, too, when it comes to him doing his work, making decisions, and drawing up plans and designs.

You understand the distance and the detachment somehow. You suppose that whatever he experienced made him that way, so you’d make an effort into making him smile, teasing him a little more than usual so there’s a bit more joy in his day. You can say he’s gotten used to it. Even Mr. Ri would laugh and join in.

And that’s the thing - you anticipate it. You look forward to the curl of his lips and the dip on his lower cheek and the softness in his eyes and the way he turns away or bows his head to hide it. Even the way he’d play it off is quite endearing, a term you never thought you’d use to describe him. It makes you wonder if people had tried to get to know him, maybe knock on the door and wait around to see if he’d come out and let them in.

But all that has brought you to right now - Sunday night as you think about seeing him the next morning. You think back to all the times that you’d entered his penthouse and saw him in his gym attire post-workout, the seconds you’d spent so close to him as you adjusted his necktie, and the breakfasts and car rides you’d shared. You recall the nods of acknowledgement after serving him his coffee, the times he’d agreed with your recommendations, and the instances he’d turned to you for support and his look of thanks after you’ve given it.

Then there’s the grazing of your fingertips, the brushing of arms, the interlocking of eyes.

And your heart, beating a little too fast then.

You groan to yourself. You really have to find a way for this to stop.

You try to keep your distance from Jungkook for the next few days.

You do your usual - fix his outfit, eat with him the breakfast you prepared, go through schedules, and join him in meetings. You do away with the eye contact, you skip the teasing, and you don’t share about your evening like you’ve been doing. And that’s only because doing so just gives you moments to remember, like his gazes lingering or the sound of his laughter. Even more, it messes with your mind thinking that just like you, he spends most of his weeknights alone.

You act unbothered, although him catching you looking at him from your office seat and then you, quickly looking away doesn’t really help your case.

It’s on Wednesday when he passes by your desk to put back some files and you return to your task after giving him a small smile when he asks if you’re okay.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Just a little tired but aren’t we all?” You respond, your eyes flitting from him to your desktop screen.

“Yes, but most of us take breaks. You don’t,” he counters.

“Neither do you,” you turn to him with an arched brow.

It’s become a habit of yours to remind him to rest but just like you, he’s pretty stubborn.

“Ah, there you are,” he chuckles. “I was almost convinced you’re not really my assistant if you didn’t point that out but alas, it’s you.”

“Are you testing me, sir?” You frown at him.

A mistake, really, since he gives you that teasing smirk of his that you’re learning is your weakness.

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “You just haven’t seemed like yourself all week and I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. You can take a leave tomorrow, if that’s what you need.”

“It’s okay, sir. And I’m fine,” you assure him, realizing that there’s not much that could keep you away from him. “Plus, we have that dinner with the media festival organizers tomorrow evening and it’s the only time they’re free.”

“I know,” he sighs. “As long as you’re sure. It’s selfish but I do need you there.”

Of course he does, you think to yourself. You’re there to make his life easier, after all. It’s the only reason why he’d ever need you or want you around.

You confirm that you’ll go to work tomorrow and sigh in relief when he doesn’t say anything more. You decide to go home, wanting to get to the weekend so you can find some distraction, in whatever way that may be.

Thursday comes and you spend your day divided between working with the support team for the upcoming VP events and coordinating with the Arts Center marketing team for the deliverables they need signed off.

It’s busy enough that you don’t see much of Jungkook but that only really lasts until you have to accompany him to that welcome dinner with the organizers of the international media festival that Jungkook wanted to collaborate with for the Arts Center promotions. It’s happening in August of next year and while the partnership has been established, he wants to work on his relationship with them so that the plans could firm up quickly.

You head to Jungkook’s restaurant of choice in Itaewon, a fancy place that serves Korean dishes in a modern, artistic way. You’ve heard about it before; the food looks like something you could put at an art gallery. Korea’s exceptional ability to merge traditional and modern elements is reflected in this restaurant’s menu. It’s why he wanted to bring them here, he tells you.

You settle in your seat, excited for the dishes that are about to come out, and that’s when you see him, the man you dated before Hajoon, and someone you haven’t heard from in a while. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. He continued to reach out months after you ended things with him. It seemed harmless then, and it was only two years ago when he finally stopped.

Chi-won recognizes you first, having come in to serve the first set of dishes. He stares as he sets the plate in front of you, his gaze lingering even as he moves on to one of the organizers to your right. He looks different, which is why it took you another look for his face to register. He’s lost weight and cut his hair; his features look somehow harder, too.

There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He was pretty laid-back, a reason why you both clicked that first time. He’d have his moments of frustration, letting them out in his own ways like in the bedroom, but he always seemed to get over them quickly.

Things were always casual and you made sure he knew that. He didn’t seem to mind at first but he started to want more and with your new role with Hoseok then, you were always tired and busy. The nights with Chi-won stopped being your relief, and when you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, he seemed to accept it. The messages shortly after were just about asking how you were doing and after answering twice, you stopped replying and then changed your number. You haven’t heard from him since, and you assumed he’d just accepted things and moved on.

But tonight you feel the tension, and so when he stands close to you when he serves the succeeding plates and when he waits around your table to watch you eat, you start to feel uncomfortable.

You try to be present in the conversation happening around you, as the organizers seem to be enjoying the meal while also pitching in some ideas for the launch. You try to focus on Jungkook’s voice this time to distract you. But the pair of eyes that seems to watch your every move starts to become too much, and the anxiety builds as each second ticks by.

It’s while you wait for the dessert when you take the opportunity to step out. Jungkook mentions the invitation drafts so you say that they’re saved in your iPad that you’ll retrieve from the car parked on the other street. He agrees that it would be good to show them, so you excuse yourself and get some much needed fresh air, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder just by not being in the same space as Chi-won.

That is, until you hear a familiar voice call your name.

You stiffen for only a moment then continue to walk, fumbling for your phone as you try to dial Mr. Ri’s number. But you don’t get to, as the man following you pulls your wrist to get you to face him. You jerk in response, dropping your phone on the ground, and the fear fills you immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” you seeth, cradling your arm as you pick up your phone.

You try to stay calm, even as his smug face gives you chills, and you try to remember the man who liked to laugh and joke around those years ago, seeing now that he’s nothing like him.

“Funny you say that when that’s all you wanted me to do before,” he mocks, inching closer to you. “I know you remember, ___. Those nights were amazing, weren’t they? Your body and your moans told me so, so I don’t know why you wanted them to stop.”

You want to stay silent and not give him anything, but there’s desperation in his eyes, and you’re afraid of what he’ll do if you don’t even acknowledge him, so you give the same explanation you did before.

“I told you. I didn’t want anything serious,” you say, making sure you keep your distance from him.

“That’s not what you’d say whenever you’re drunk,” he counters. “You’d go on about not wanting to be alone, about wanting to be taken care of and being with someone who made you feel loved.”

“I never said I wanted it to be you,” you respond, too quickly for his liking it seems, as you see his look turn into anger.

“So what was I for?” He demands. “Just the guy you fucked for the sake of it?”

“I was stressed with work and you hated yours,” you remind him. “That’s all we needed each other for.”

“But things changed for me,” he says, his voice softening again, the fluctuation of his tone scaring you even more. “I wanted to be with you. And seeing you now, I know I still do.”

“But I don’t,” you state. “I didn’t then and I don’t even now.”

“But you wanted that restaurant owner, didn’t you?” He demands, worrying you that he knows about Hajoon.

“No, that didn’t mean anything. We were never together.”

“Bullshit, ___. I’d see you at the clubs around here with his arm on your waist, just like I used to do. That clearly meant something.”

The thought that Chi-won kept tabs on you even after you ended things makes you angry. Perhaps it’s because he works around the area you frequented during those times but even then, the fact that he even knows what Hajoon does for a living is crossing the line, and in your frustration, you hit Chi-won where it hurts the most.

“Clearly it didn’t mean enough because I’m not seeing him anymore. And I was never serious with him, just like I wasn’t with you.”

He visibly groans. He walks closer to you again, prompting you to walk backwards. With you turned back and walking on your heels on the uneven pavement, you’re worried you’ll hurt yourself. Even more, a part of you is scared that he’ll hurt you. It’s still early on a Thursday night and you’re in the quieter part of town so there aren’t many people walking on the streets; those who are are too far for you to catch their attention. So you continue your steps until you’re backed up against the wall and with nowhere to go, you start to panic, feeling the fear slowly overtake you.

“You know, I came out here because I wanted to talk to you just to see how you were doing since you know, I actually cared about you like you wanted,” he rolls his eyes. “But seeing you act like none of what we shared mattered just makes me so angry. Why do you get to go on and treat me like shit? I’m just gonna have to do the same, then.”

At this, he cages you, his face too close to yours that you freeze in fear. The smirk makes you nauseous, but somehow you find the strength to push him away but he comes back right after, closer each time.

“I said, don’t touch me!” You yell, giving him another shove. “Just stay away from me!”

Chi-won grabs your wrist once more, holding you tightly so he can show you that he has control and that he can do whatever he wants.

“Let me go!” You plead, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to, not when I get to have you all alone after so long,” he hums, licking his lips and dragging his eyes all over your body. “I always liked it when you came over wearing that skirt of yours.”

You know this is what he wants. He wants you to be scared, he wants to haunt your dreams and not make you forget him because he knows that you obviously already had. You’re terrified but you try to gather whatever courage you have within you to fight back.

But it’s then that you hear footsteps, and a shadow appears behind Chi-won.

“She said to let her go.”

Jungkook’s voice is hard, tense, angry. But there’s control, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold himself back. He comes into view, the mix of worry and anger on his face helping to relieve your fear.

But it doesn’t affect Chi-won, as he continues to hold onto your wrist. Your strained face lets Jungkook know that you’re still in the man’s hold, prompting him to walk closer and repeat his words.

“I said to let her go,” he demands. “Do it. Because we both know there are so many things I can do to you and smashing your face is just one of them.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeves and clenches his fists. He doesn’t think it’s enough to scare the man who’s holding you hostage but he thinks it’s enough to show that he’s indeed willing to throw a punch if he has to. He’d pull the man away but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’d beat the daylights out of this asshole but he doesn’t want you to witness that. You’re terrified already as it is; anything more might just break you further.

So Jungkook keeps his gaze on the man, hoping the threat would work somehow.

It does, as the man lets you go then raises his arms mockingly, as if to surrender. You step away immediately, finding your way towards Jungkook. Chi-won looks at the man next to you from head-to-toe, his attempt at intimidation.

“The boss, I assume?” Chi-won scoffs. “That’s cheap, even for you.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Jungkook fumes, trying his hardest to keep himself together and not make this worse.

“Women who are that lonely and that desperate for sex would do anything and use anyone to get what they want and feel better about themselves,” Chi-won shrugs. “I’m just saying I’m not surprised.”

The insult is unfounded. You know at this point, he’s just trying to say anything to provoke Jungkook and put you down in the process. Somehow you’ve learned how to deal with men like this.

“Yeah, I was so desperate that I ended up settling for a low-life like you,” you scoff, hoping the brave facade holds up. “You weren’t even that good. I could only fake it for so long.”

And this is what does it for him, as Chi-won’s face distorts in anger, and while you know your words provoked him, you wanted to show that you could regain your control, and he’s the one who now breaks because of it.

“Fucking slut,” he yells, charging towards you.

But Jungkook charges back, pushing Chi-won towards the wall and making sure he stays there. The anger on Jungkook’s face is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, yet despite this side of him that you’re now witnessing, you can’t help but feel emotional at his presence. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t know what would’ve happened; you don’t know where you’d pull the strength to stand up for yourself.

“You say anything else and I swear, getting fired is gonna be the least of your worries,” Jungkook huffs. “Because this boss knows your manager. This boss knows the police chief at the station not far away. You hurt her and you’re gonna pay for this. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Chi-won slowly realizes that those aren’t empty words, as he visibly starts to look worried. There’s not much he can do now. You doubt he can overpower Jungkook despite his size. You also know Chi-won doesn’t have much, and losing his job could make him lose everything. And that scares you, too.

“Jungkook, it’s okay. Just let him go,” you plead, tugging his arm to pull him away. You know how much worse it could get if anything else happens. You know that Jungkook is very much capable of inflicting physical pain, and you don’t want blood on his hands because of you. “Let’s just go back inside.”

Jungkook looks at you, the fear clearly still evident - your eyes are glassy and empty, your hand on his arm is shaking, and your voice is cracking. Whatever courage you had at answering back earlier is slowly dissipating, and all Jungkook wants is to get you away from all this.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. He’s just angry and I don’t blame him,” you insist.

All lies, really. You wish the worst for Chi-won, but you know it won’t do you nor Jungkook any good if you both go down this path.

Your eyes plead for him to take your lead this time and he sees it, he sees you, and you see his tiniest of nods before turning to Chi-won.

“Get out of here and call it a night before I do anything else to you.”

Chi-won, who’s clearly still furious, starts walking away. But in his effort to regain the control you took from him, he turns to you before heading back inside.

“You’re really fucking good at that, you know?” He says to you. “Fuck the man you know wants you and then just drop him when you get bored or when you find the next guy who can pleasure you without the commitment you obviously desperately want. You’ll always be miserable whatever you do.”

You will the tears not to fall as the words hit you where it hurts. They’re things you’ve heard not long ago, just in a different variation, and by another man who had the same fate as Chi-won - left by you because you couldn’t give them what they wanted. Maybe you’re too honest when you’re drunk, maybe that’s when the yearning for something meaningful and more permanent comes out, and maybe that’s when they thought they could be what you wanted.

But you’ve always known from the beginning that they couldn’t give you what you desired, and you always hoped you’d cut the cord before they started to want more. Turns out your timing is just as bad as your judgment.

You let them have the final say, though. And then you let them walk away. You feel like it’s climactic for them, liberating even, to be able to tell the person who hurt them that she’s selfish and she doesn’t deserve happiness. You suppose it just proves that they didn’t really feel much; perhaps your read on people isn’t that terrible after all.

You manage to rein all the emotions in and look at Jungkook who remains standing next to you. His fist is still clenched and you see the anger in his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when Hajoon threatened him. This is the first time you thought he could really hurt someone, and he would’ve done it on your defense.

“We should go back to dinner,” you finally say. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Jungkook turns to you, the fear still evident in your eyes but he can see you trying, he can see you try to be brave and bury all that pain in for his sake.

“I’m not letting you go back in there,” he responds, his tone hard and firm. “I’m not letting you anywhere near that man again.”

You don’t insist this time. You don’t want to be anywhere near Chi-won, either. So you just nod and wait for Mr. Ri to arrive after he was called to come to you with the car. Jungkook is about to instruct the older man to go inside and send his apologies to the organizers but you tell Jungkook it should be him. You manage to convince him to properly send them off and pay the bill and while initially unwilling, he finally goes, giving Mr. Ri strict orders not to leave you alone.

Mr. Ri breaks at the pained look on your face - an uncommon sight for him, and one that hurts him. It’s not the first time though, and that just makes it worse.

“Stay strong, okay?” He says, despite not knowing what happened. “You have people around to protect you, to keep you safe. You know that.”

You nod in acknowledgement, as you’re unable to get any word out. But you see the pain in his eyes, too, and for all the years that you’ve known him, the comfort in them always comes.

Jungkook returns and informs you that the organizers will be leaving soon. He asks you if it’s okay if he drives you home and you say that it is. Even if he’s just seen you be humiliated, somehow it’s him you want to be with you as you try to process what happened. You know it’ll ease his mind as well, and you don’t want him to worry any more than he already is.

You both say goodbye to Mr. Ri and then enter the car, with you feeling a little odd to be sitting in the passenger seat with Jungkook next to you. But you settle in, your body moving on its own; it feels quite foreign to you, with your mind in a haze and your nails engraving their marks on your palms, as if by some miracle it could erase what happened tonight from your memory.

But you doubt anything would.

“His shift ends soon and I don’t want to take you home right away, just in case he follows,” Jungkook says.

You look at him questioningly and he immediately knows what you’re thinking.

“I know the manager and I asked him,” he explains as he starts driving away. “But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything. And that bastard didn’t see me. He avoided me and stayed in the kitchen the whole time I was there, as if he wasn’t serving our table the whole evening. I should’ve picked up that he was trying to get near you. I… I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time.”

You still came for me, you want to say. It’s the thought that keeps swimming in your mind. You don’t know how long you were gone for but he could’ve called; he chose to go out and look for you instead.

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking, as he says that he noticed you were away longer than he expected.

“It just felt odd. You would’ve messaged me if something was up,” he reasons. “I guess I noticed earlier that he kept coming to our table for no reason but I didn’t pay it any mind. But then another server brought the dessert. I asked where he was and the guy said he went outside without any explanation, and I just had a weird feeling. I should’ve come sooner, ___.”

You want to say that he doesn’t have to apologize, that things could’ve been worse if he hadn’t come, that you owe him your life that he did but you’re feeling too much to even manage a word out.

At the stoplight, he turns to you and sees the half-moons embedded on your skin. He sees the glassy eyes and the trembling lips. He wants nothing more than to shield you from all this, to take you somewhere where you’re safe and where no one can hurt you. He didn’t think that seeing you like this would make him feel so powerless, because much as he can make that man’s life miserable if you let him, what he can’t do is take your pain away. What he doesn’t know how to do is comfort you.

“I’ll drive you around first, is that okay?”

You nod, turning to your right to watch the city pass you by. It’s a breeze driving down the bridge as lights illuminate the Han River. The moon’s reflected on it, too, but you don’t feel any joy nor calmness. All you feel is this heavy burden of disgust and fear and shame and loneliness and anger.

You quickly wipe the tear that falls, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t see. Your eyes remain glued outside, and you watch the buildings slowly disappear, replaced by little cafes and stores closing shop. It’s a familiar street, one you’ve passed by on some mornings, and you appreciate the familiarity.

The car stops but you don’t look away from the window, afraid that seeing the worry on Jungkook’s face will make you break down.

“We’re at a neighborhood park near your place,” he says. “I’ll just be outside, just in case you need time alone. You can put the radio on blast. You can honk if you need me, or you can come out if you want to. I’m just here.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He just exits the car and walks towards the bench that overlooks the playground. You put the music on loudly, and perhaps just as he expected you to do, you cry. And you cry hard.

You shut your eyes from the pain. It forces you to relive that moment but you do your best to crumple it like paper and then burn it from your memory. You know the burned pieces and the smoke will stay - an alley will trigger you, the scent of cooking oil and cheap cologne will make you gag. It’s how it is with painful memories - they burn you but there’s not much you can do to put out the fire. And when it’s gone, it’s not over. The scars remind you it happened. And then they urge you to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

You don’t know how long it takes for you to cry out all the tears. It feels like they won’t end - they’re the words you couldn’t say earlier, and the words that would haunt you for longer. But they eventually stop falling, and you’re exhausted by the time they do. You have new crescents on your palms, too, and those may go away but you know they’re the only things that will. Everything else will be invisible, and that makes it a harder burden to carry.

Outside, Jungkook glances at the car to make sure you’re still there. He doesn’t think there’s any danger now; he doubts that man got to follow you here, too. But with what happened earlier, there’s this perpetual worry about anything that harms you, and he doesn’t want for there to be even a single second where you’re afraid, where you’re looking over your shoulder in fear, and where you think you’re everything that man said you are.

He can try to keep you safe. He can try to lift you up. But when it’s about trying to forget, trying to move on, he knows there’s not much he can do. He knows a bit about painful experiences and memories that won't leave him. He’s done his best to hide those away, kept in the deepest nooks of his being that’s caused him to conceal parts of himself as well. It’s not easy to do but he does it; all these years later, he doesn’t know how not to.

But then there’s you and somehow, those parts of him that he’s kept hidden come out. Maybe it’s those pieces that will help comfort you, that will help protect you, that will help keep you safe. He’s not sure but if they are, maybe it’s not such a bad thing for them to resurface, if it means you won’t be scared or hurt or alone.

His gaze flits back to the playground. He glances at your direction every few minutes. He wants to respect your privacy, at least as much as what his car and the radio on blast could give. He hopes that all the crying could help ease your pain somehow. He also hopes he’s one person who could.

Jungkook hears the door open and he turns to see you slowly get out. He remains in his seat and waits to see where you go. A minute later, you’re sitting on the bench next to him, your breathing slowed down now, and your hands are less shaky than earlier. Your eyes are still glassy, and he wishes he could wipe the tears away should they fall, but he knows it’s not something he can do.

Both of you sit in silence as you watch the moon dance over the field of grass. It’s peaceful here at this time of the night. It’s not a place you expected him to take you but you’re glad that he did.

You didn’t grow up going to parks because your mother rarely had time to take you; no one could accompany you either. When you moved to Busan during your pre-teen years, you felt you’d outgrown it even if Jimin and Soomin would invite you. There were always so many kids around and you didn’t know how to talk to them or to play with them so you always stayed in your own spot, near the tree where you could watch them run about.

“I didn’t know where to take you but, uh, I loved playing in the playground when I was a kid,” Jungkook bursts through your thoughts. “It somehow always made me feel safe.”

“Did you like going to parks, too?” You ask, finally finding your voice, visibly surprising him.

“Not really. I wasn’t exactly fond of people even as a child,” he softly chuckles, earning him a small smile. “And well, my older brother liked to tease me in front of his friends when we’d play so I would ask to go late in the afternoon once the kids have left. My father picked up on it so he built a playground just for me in our backyard. It was really nice. I’d spend all day there when I was younger.”

A little Jungkook coming down the slide, climbing up the rock wall, and playing in the seesaw looks so wholesome. You wonder if he squealed while on the swing like kids usually do. Maybe. It’s nice to imagine a version of him that’s joyful and free. You wonder when the last time he felt that way was.

You also wonder what has made him share something that feels so personal to him with you. You’re thinking maybe it’s to make you feel comfortable or to ease your nerves; maybe it’s to tell you that unlike Chi-won, he’s not there to threaten you. Maybe Jungkook wants to tell you that he’s someone you can trust, that despite what you are to each other, at this moment, he can be a friend.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage to say. “Thank you for coming to find me and keeping him away from me. He… he was someone I used to see and I ended things and I thought we were okay. I hadn’t seen him in a while and—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he says softly. “I understand that it’s difficult and reliving it might just make you more scared and upset.“

“But I… I need to say it, at least just this once,” you stammer. “Just so it won’t stay in my head like some made-up reality until I’m convinced it didn’t really happen. Because it did.”

He turns to you, his eyes the most sympathetic you’ve seen them, and he nods.

So you tell him - how Chi-won kept staring at you as you ate, how he pulled you towards him and then caged you against the wall.

“He was too close and I could… smell him, as if he wanted me to remember his scent, and that he didn’t want me to ever forget it,” you say.

Your tears fall slowly this time. Your voice cracks and your nails dig into your skin again. It feels so heavy, that even as you try to expend the negative energy, it’s still there. As if the memory itself is tangible, like a sack of sand filling you from inside and it makes you unable to breathe.

But the sight of Jungkook’s trembling hands catches your attention, and you turn to him - his jaws tight and his eyes, tense and deep.

“I’m so angry for you,” he heaves, his fists clenching now. He still wants to wipe your tears but he also wants to go back to the restaurant and finally punch that man’s face. “You should file a case. You have all the grounds for that. I can get him fired and he can lose everything.”

“The law and society in general don’t favor us, Jungkook. I don’t have bruises or anything; that’s what they look for. They think that all harm done only leaves visible marks,” you sigh, knowing that there’s not much you can do. “There’s no other witness but you and that itself… might not look good. If I do file a case, he’ll just bring up our past, my past, and taint my reputation. That’ll just ruin me and everything I worked hard for will be for nothing.”

“But you can’t just let him get away with this, ___,” he insists, feeling unusually emotional now. “He hurt you. And what if he does it again? Telling the police can keep him away. I’ll make sure of that.”

The urgency in his voice is something new to you. But you also know he’s right. Jungkook’s family has connections that run deep. He can very well seek revenge for you for all he wants but he wants your permission, he wants to know it’s what you want.

“I… I can’t risk it,” you say. “If by some miracle the case is successful, he’ll just spend a few months in jail or do community service then he’ll be out. He would lose more and I would be the cause of all that. And what if he tries to get revenge? How do I win?”

At his silence, you continue. “That’s right, I can’t.”

“But… don’t you want to fight?” He asks, almost desperately. His tone is low, as if he’s trying to convince himself that fighting back is the answer. “Don’t you want to make sure that he won’t do it again to you?”

“I do, but what if I lose everything in the process, what then?” You counter. “I… I’m not strong enough for that, Jungkook. That’s not a battle I can fight, not when I’m alone here. Not when I’m also just trying to get by.”

You look back at his eyes, helpless and apologetic now, and at this time, this companionship is what you need. It’s as if he’s telling you with them that you may think you’re on your own but you aren’t. Even as you shiver from within, you don’t feel so alone with him next to you.

“I… I was seeing him for a year but things weren’t serious. He probably just wanted to scare me, to assert control because he lacks it in other aspects of his life. Cowards do that, I guess,” you shrug, trying to reason to yourself how someone you knew fairly well could do something like that to you.

People change, you suppose. Or maybe he’s always been like that; it takes a while sometimes for the demons to come out.

“But cowards don’t have a right to do that,” Jungkook reasons. “They don’t deserve to just walk away and not deal with the consequences.”

“They don’t. But I don’t deserve to suffer more,” you point out. “The things he said… that’s probably enough revenge on his end, I guess. If he wanted to hurt me, well then, he did.”

There’s an emptiness in your eyes that Jungkook sees. There’s a tinge of submission, as if you accept the pain even if you don’t think you deserve it. And maybe that’s why you’re choosing to fight this battle this way. We can’t do anything about how people hurt us, but we choose how much more we let them do it.

“Prove him wrong, then,” Jungkook says. “He doesn’t get to tell you that you’ll be miserable your whole life. So chase what makes you happy. And let yourself be loved.”

It’s permission that he doesn’t have a right to grant, but he supposes that if there’s any way you can defeat that man’s voice in your head, it’s by searching for the things you want and fighting to keep them.

“One day,” you manage to smile at him. “I’ll do those one day.”

It’s like a promise you’re making to him just as you make it to yourself. Jungkook can’t think right now what that would mean. Finding your happiness could lead you anywhere; it sure could lead you away from him.

“So what happens now?” He asks, hoping there’s a way he could help you get through this.

“I continue living my life and not let this define me,” you shrug, half believing in the power of just pushing through it. “I’ll probably be anxious and paranoid for a while but this is what I can do for now. I’ll just be careful and… learn how to deal with all this one day at a time, I guess.”

“And I’ll have Mr. Ri drive you home every night, at least for these next few weeks. Do you need to move houses?”

“Chi-won doesn’t actually know where I live. I never let him come over. I don’t really like having people in my house.”

Jungkook hums to himself. He isn’t that different from you, it seems. But he takes your word for it, not wanting to impose. There are so many things he wants to do, like ruin that man’s life because things like that can’t go unpunished but he trusts you. At the end of the day, it’s your call, and he respects whatever you decide. He’ll just do what he can to protect you, even if he’ll be worried like hell from here on out, an emotion he’s slowly accepting, knowing what that implies.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all that,” you say amidst the silence. “And that you have to deal with this now. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I’m weak and that I don’t stand up for myself.”

“You know you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “And not fighting back doesn’t make you weak. I guess staying right where you are is a way of fighting, too.”

“I have people around… somehow,” you comfort yourself. “I’m gonna be fine. I have to believe I will.”

Jungkook nods and manages a smile. At this point, he thinks all he can give you is support and encouragement. He’ll continue to do what he can to keep you safe without disregarding your requests, but staying right where he is with you might just be another way to do that.

“Do you want to pass by somewhere before heading home?” He asks, knowing it’s getting quite late. “A restaurant to grab a drink or something? You didn’t get to have dessert so maybe a cafe?”

“A convenience store is fine,” you smile, knowing the treats that would make you feel better.

Jungkook chuckles, as it’s a place he didn’t really expect you’d want to go to after an experience like the one you just had. But it’s you and he should be used to you surprising him, so he nods and gestures towards the car.

It takes five minutes for you to get there and he looks around and asks what you want to have.

“A cup noodle,” you answer, walking towards the aisle where they’re shelved. “Do you want some? I mean, you eat these things, right?”

“Of course I do,” he scowls at you, picking up one himself. “I just… don’t eat it at a convenience store.”

“Because you don’t go to one?”

“I do. I’m not a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to do ordinary people things.”

“You mean commoner things,” you raise an eyebrow. “Or plebeian activities. Or non-heir stuff.”

“Whatever. I won’t even defend myself to you,” he huffs, giving in because seeing you amused is a welcome sight.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” you teasingly smile. “I’m just… laughing at you in my mind.”

You walk towards another aisle and leave him with a smile he’s glad to be making now. He follows and watches you pick up a few more things before you head to the counter where he manages to bring out his card first and pay.

“That's all I can do,” he shrugs after you thank him.

“You’re doing so much for me already,” you assure him. “Taking me somewhere so I could cry, making sure I get home safe… staying with me.”

“That’s not even enough to—”

“You don’t know how to accept gratitude, do you?” You ask as you blow on your noodles. “I notice how you brush it off when someone thanks you.”

“Not used to hearing it, I guess,” he shrugs, not thinking it was something you’d pick up, although there’s no lie.

It’s always been hard for him to say things - that he’s sorry, that he’s thankful, that it’s okay. You, of all people, are the one pointing that out.

“You should be. Because I’ll say it again.” You turn to him and meet his eyes. “Thank you, Jungkook. I thought I’d just go through this alone but I’m not. And that’s… that’s something I’m not used to.”

“You should be,” he repeats your words. “There are some things you shouldn’t be going through on your own. So if there’s anything else you need, you let me know, okay?”

There’s sincerity in his voice as he speaks. You’re used to the low or stern or commanding tone, not this soft and worried one. But it’s the comfort you didn’t know you needed. After spending all that time earlier crying and feeling afraid, being with Jungkook in this bright-lit convenience store is the unexpected warmth that you’re glad you let him give you.

“I will,” you smile. “You know, this is the longest I’ve spoken informally to you. It feels a little weird.”

He laughs as he gets to the same realization. But for him, it almost feels natural.

“It would be weirder if you spoke formally after all that,” he says. “Like I said, if it isn’t about work then I don’t mind.”

You hum in response, not wanting to dwell on the implication. You’re with him after-hours, at a convenience store - that he personally drove you to - where you’re both having cup noodles and soda. This ironically feels more intimate than being in bed with some guy.

You decide to have your dessert, which is really just chocopie, and you mentally curse Chi-won for making you miss the sweet dishes from dinner. But still, you know this one could easily cheer you up. You give one to Jungkook, and his amused tone catches your attention.

“Oh wow, I haven’t had one of these in years,” he says, eating it one bite. “Mother used to give this to me all the time when I was a kid because her best friend owned the company that makes them. There was a time I’d have it as dessert after every meal.”

“Seriously?” You giggle. “That is so weird. This is my favorite. My mom would always buy this for me. When she worked at a school in Busan, she would give it as a treat while I waited for her at the library. That would just always make my day.”

“Hmm, it’s a good snack,” he says, smiling as he takes another piece that you offer and recalls how he used to have this everyday. “So she’d pick you up at the library? Was that your favorite place at school?”

“Hmm, not really, but it reminded me of the one I used to go to,” you reply. “When we lived in Seoul when I was young, there was this family-run library for children in the neighborhood. It was very cozy, with lots of soft chairs and reading nooks on the walls. There were these huge stuffed toys that you could lie on while reading so it felt like someone was hugging you. It had warm lights, not like those usual bright ones. There was this mural of the characters from the books they had,” you narrate, smiling as you remember the days you spent there.

“Mom would pick me up from school during her lunch break then drop me off at the library where her friend volunteered at and I’d wait until she got off work. When we moved to Busan, I kept looking for it. The one at the school wasn’t the same so I didn’t enjoy it as much, but there was nowhere else to go. Eventually I just got used to it, but the chocopie always made the wait worth it.”

It’s the most you’ve ever told him about yourself and you’re surprised at how easy it was for you to do that. He did tell you a little bit about his childhood earlier though, and you’d like to think it’s your way of returning that kind of vulnerability; a story for a story, a piece of your childhood for a snapshot of his.

You look at him and the small smile on his face. Perhaps he’s thinking the same.

“So you like reading books, then?”

“Not really, actually,” you say, earning you a confused look. “I read all the picture books they had. Those are what I liked. And they had these coloring books and paper dolls and I’d spend hours just working on those. Being there made me feel safe, too; it was like my playground, you know?”

“It’s good you had that, then. Do you still visit that place? The one in your old neighborhood?”

“It shut down years ago, sometime before I returned to Seoul to work,” you sigh. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to it. The couple who ran it passed away and no one was interested in continuing it because it wasn’t profitable. But the community center nearby has a small library and I go there sometimes, when I’m really upset.”

“And read picture books?” He chuckles.

“Yes, actually,” you smile. “Memories are powerful and we need to let the good ones win. My childhood wasn’t the greatest but I felt like I was in a different world whenever I was in a library so being in one, even as a grown up, reminds me that there are still places where I’m welcome, where I can feel safe, you know? It reminds me that the world hasn’t completely turned dark. I’ve got to hold onto those to not lose myself.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I… I don’t think I’ve been to a playground in years before today. Other than the one that father built in the backyard at least. And I rarely even see it because I’m rarely there. I guess I just…. Let myself get lost.”

“Well, I hope going to one earlier somehow made you find yourself. Or at least reminded you of those good old days, the days when you felt free and safe and happy.”

Jungkook thinks about what he’d felt earlier, that much as being in a playground again brought him back in time, all he kept thinking about was you - alone in that car while you let all your emotions out. He wanted to comfort you but he didn’t know how, and he thinks that maybe it isn’t about finding himself but learning what he’s capable of, and that after all these years, maybe he’s still capable of caring for another person, and maybe that person is you.

“It did,” he hums, meeting your eyes.

There’s more light in them this time and he wishes it would stay this way. He’d seen you cry months ago and it wasn’t a good feeling, especially because you’d done so because of him. This time, he feels powerless, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

He gets to be with you now though. Perhaps that’s the difference.

You start cleaning up and it’s his signal for both of you to head out.

It takes him ten minutes to drive to your place and a small part of you doesn’t want to leave. Even in the silence, you felt calm, something that you hadn’t expected to feel around him, considering his default tense disposition and usual detachment. But there’s something about his presence, about him just being there - he’s not trying too hard to comfort you, he’s not imposing, he’s also not invalidating your feelings. What matters is you’re not alone, and other than him making that effort, it’s also about you, allowing him to do that, something you don’t always do as well.

“Thank you again,” you say once the car has stopped.

He nods in acknowledgment then turns to you. “It might be best if you take a leave tomorrow, and by that I mean staying home for safety reasons.”

A day to just process everything isn’t such a bad idea, so you agree.

“If it’s not too much for your friends, maybe they could drive up here so they can be with you. Having people around you that you trust might help in making you feel better.”

“I’ll ask them. I don’t want them to worry but I do need them. So thanks, Jungkook. I appreciate it.”

You exit the car and turn around to wave him goodbye. He smiles as you do, and it’s a sight that helps you sleep later that night - after the long bath and another crying session, after the phone call with your friends who promised to be here in the morning, after the time you spend just hugging your pillow, hoping that you’d stop being scared.

But thinking of Jungkook now makes you feel better and you realize the change again - thinking about him now makes you a little braver.

You spend that weekend wrapped up in your best friends’ arms. They arrived on Friday morning with some pork bone soup and seafood that they cooked for lunch and dinner. In the middle of the day, Jungkook texted you and asked how you were doing, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face, which prompted a conversation about your little crush that you didn’t expect to get tense, with Jimin stating that while Jungkook did help you, being attracted to your boss is complicated and would lead to heartbreak.

You insisted that it was harmless - a half lie, as you hadn’t thought much about it in that sense - and that it’s not something you plan on nurturing. You’re gonna leave the company one day anyway, and you won’t have to deal with him after.

The succeeding days were spent just at home, with you feeling lighter, until Sunday evening when they had to leave, and you felt a little lonely again.

You try to let that feeling go once you enter Jungkook’s penthouse on Monday morning, knowing that with a day off, you’ll have a lot to make up for and you can’t let anything distract you from your tasks.

That includes the man himself, as he exits his home gym in sweatpants and a dri-fit shirt, the sweat sticking to his body that’s got his chest accentuated. His hair is damp and he’s panting; it’s not exactly the sight you wanted to be greeted with, considering all the thoughts in your head these past few days. You’re reminded that just last week, you’d tried to keep your distance and now, he’s making it incredibly hard for you to do that.

“Hey, how do you feel?” He asks as he takes the glass of water you set for him. “Did you get proper rest?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Jeon,” you reply.

“Hmm, we’re back to that again, huh?”

It takes you a while but you pick up that he’s referring to the formalities.

“I’m back on the clock, sir,” you point out. “You are my boss and I need to address you accordingly.”

It’s not a reminder he wanted, given how he’s been worried sick about you since Thursday night. Even an hour of boxing after he got home that evening couldn’t rid him of his anger. He wished he’d noticed how uncomfortable you were at the restaurant; he’s been paying attention to you anyway but he just got so caught up with impressing the festival organizers that he missed out on the signs. If he’d noticed, he would’ve gotten to you earlier and things wouldn’t have escalated.

He had to control himself from punching that man’s face the moment he saw how close he was to you. Your plea of letting him go was the only thing that kept Jungkook from ruining that man’s life because he really could. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it - people like that need to be punished, but it’s people like you who remind him that fighting takes different forms, and you’re the only one who can define what that means.

But it also doesn’t mean that he can’t get angry for you and he’ll probably feel that for a while. Knowing how you are, he knows you wouldn’t want him to pity you either, so he’ll be what he can be, and that’s someone whom you feel safe around. Regardless, maybe the reminder of your roles in each other’s lives is necessary; it’s what he needs to keep himself from doing more, or wanting to be more.

Jungkook finally acknowledges your statement with a nod and then heads to the bathroom for his shower. Shortly after, you walk towards his closet and prepare his outfits for the week. He meets you in the dining room once he’s dressed, and like clockwork, you fix his tie and his suit.

The effect is minimal but somehow, you’ve found comfort in the routine. What once was a tense and nerve-wracking act is now something automatic and essential for you. In a way, it reinforces your place in his life, but the short distance reminds you that he may be faraway or detached in some aspects but physically, he’s so close. It’s a double-edged sword, really. Some days it’s good, some days it isn’t. Today, it’s the former, and as you look up and meet his eyes, the softness in them says he thinks the same.

You go over your usual with him while munching on some pastries that Mr. Ri was ordered to buy and bring up. The ride to the office is filled with discussions on the upcoming year-end events. When you arrive, you attend two straight meetings before having another one over lunch. You accompany Jungkook to a store opening located in one of their properties after that and it’s 4PM by the time you’re able to sit on your desk for more than 30 seconds. You’ve got two hours to finish what you can today but you find yourself spacing out every few minutes.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the first time since Friday that you’re on your own. Your best friends made sure not to leave you by yourself for those three days - Soomin held you while you slept and silently cried in her arms, and Jimin hugged you for much of the day. Their affection was what you badly needed, and now that you’re without it, somehow you feel incomplete and anxious and somewhat unstable.

Scenes are hazy in your mind. You’re at least thankful they’re not vivid anymore unlike a few nights ago, but the dim lights and the stench of the alley come to you without warning, and you suddenly freeze in panic. Your fingers tremble as you try to type away, your eyes unblinking as the tears coat them, and you feel sick to your stomach that you want to just be buried in the covers at this moment.

The door opening causes you to jerk in your seat and Jungkook stops mid-sentence to walk over to you.

“Hey, ___. You can go home,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

“I… I don’t know if that’ll help,” you admit. “I don’t know if being alone is what I need.”

You go home to an empty apartment just like he does, he reminds himself. He knows what that’s like. It’s why he spends most weekends in the clubs where it’s loud and crowded; those somehow mask the emptiness that can get tiring when all he has is himself. Being on your own is good sometimes; sometimes it also isn’t.

But Jungkook doesn’t know what he can offer you. His presence isn’t something exactly enticing nor comforting; he wouldn’t wanna be with him, too, if he was in a similar position.

“Is there a way that your friends can spend another few days with you? What about your mother?” He asks.

“They have lives back home,” you sigh. “I… I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to force it if you aren’t,” he insists. “I may not know much but I know enough that these things take time. I…”

I wish I could do more for you, he wants to say.

“I don’t have anything urgent for today,” he says instead. “You can clock off now and Mr. Ri and I can take you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” you say immediately.

“I insist,” he replies. “At least for the next few days until we’re sure that you’re not in danger.”

You nod, not having the energy to reason with him. At least you don’t have to think about how to commute home without risking being too close to strangers.

You pack your things and get in the car, with Jungkook letting you bask in the mellow sounds of the radio while he doodles on his leather notebook. You’re tempted to ask him what he’s drawing just to add some more noise but you decide against it, choosing instead to close your eyes and force unpleasant images away from your mind so you can train yourself to do it this time.

It works. Except, it’s the smile of the man next to you that you see, and when you open your eyes, it’s the same thing that greets you.

He chuckles when you look around and realize that you’re home.

“I was trying to wake you but you wouldn’t budge,” he explains. “Are you just tired or you haven’t been sleeping well?”

“Oh, I just kept waking up last night. I guess that’s why. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “Just try to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod and exit the car, feeling out of sorts even as you enter your apartment and know you’re safe inside. You nibble on some leftover pizza and try to entertain yourself with the variety shows on TV but you end up spacing out. You curl in bed, trying as much to feel comfort from your pillow that lays stiff next to you.

You’re not big on physical affection, and most days you’re glad you aren’t because you don’t get any of it anyway, but tonight, it’s what you need. Tonight, you just want that warmth, you want a body to curl into and arms to pull you close. You want hands to caress you and soft lips to plant kisses on the places that hurt. You want to hear soft laughter and random musings and plans for the next day.

The vision ends when you realize that you haven’t experienced much of that before. There were moments during the months you spent with the men you’ve dated, but the feeling of safety was lacking, the warmth wasn’t warm enough, and the desire wasn’t overwhelming. You realize that it wasn’t intimacy you feared; losing it or finding out it wasn’t enough is what you were afraid of, and it’s why you always pulled away. No one ever seemed worth it to try or to stay a little longer for.

You sigh to yourself as you will the tears not to fall. The loneliness can get to you sometimes, especially on days when there’s a kind of pain that’s hard to talk about and all you need is comfortable silence and understanding without words. But you try to push through. You’ve been on your own for so long anyway. Even when you had someone, you still came home to an empty apartment and you still felt like it was enough when it was just you around.

You’re unsure if the desire for something more is just because of what you experienced, if the forced closeness and Chi-won’s burning touch hurt you too much or if you’ve been wanting that intimacy all along. Or if someone’s made you realize that you’re ready for it, that it’s actually worth it.

You manage to fall asleep and drag yourself off the bed to head to Jungkook’s apartment the next day. You drop him off at a restaurant for a breakfast meeting before going to the office where you get to work. It’s a busy day that has you meeting with different departments and coordinating with the organizing teams for the upcoming end-of-year events.

It’s mid-afternoon when you decide to go to the outdoor garden just right off the elevators, surprised to find Jungkook standing by the railings. Dressed in a dark gray suit, he’s got his hands in his pockets while he looks out at the busy streets, and you wonder what goes on in his mind when he looks at views like this.

The sound of the door closing catches his attention, and he turns around, surprised as well to see you here.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes, I just needed a breather.”

“Am I giving you too much work again?” He shakes his head, finding humor in it now after you pointed out one time how he once gave you so many things to do.

“It’s part of the job, Mr. Jeon. I’ve accepted that now,” you giggle, walking towards where he is then standing some feet away. “But it’s been a busy day and I just needed some air.”

“You can also take a longer break if that’s what you need.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “The busyness helps. I’ll get tired and hopefully fall asleep easily and then do it all again tomorrow and the next day.”

It’s a strategy Jungkook knows well because it’s something he does. Being a perfectionist helps because then, he can work himself to the bone without realizing it until he’s entered his apartment. One glass of whiskey and then he’s falling asleep on the couch.

Weekends are tough, which is why partying and hooking up is his go-to. His best friends have asked him a few times what he’s striving towards, what he’s looking forward to and he couldn’t answer. At one point he stopped wondering, but now he wonders about you.

“What do you look forward to, then?” He asks.

“Vacation, I guess,” you shrug. “I get to be with my friends and family but then that flies too quickly then I’m back to this routine. So maybe… I look forward to the day when I start savoring the moment, when I start enjoying what’s in front of me, when I start… feeling less alone.”

The last words come out subconsciously, prompting you to turn away out of shame. It’s not an easy thing to admit. You wanted this anyway. You chose to leave home to pay back a debt and then decided to stay because you wanted to prove yourself. You chose to not commit to anyone because the pain of loneliness is much easier to bear than the pain of losing someone. This is on you, and you deal with the consequences everyday.

Jungkook doesn’t look confused nor curious. There’s a look in his eyes that you catch before his gaze returns to the streets below. It’s understanding; you realize he knows exactly what you’re talking about. And perhaps he’s on the same boat - letting life just pass him by despite the craziness of it all, perhaps wondering when he’ll stop to smell the roses or watch the sunset or listen to the birds. Maybe like you, he’s wondering when he’ll get to do those with a hand to hold and a body to curl into.

The silence is cut short when you’re alerted that Jungkook’s meeting with the Arts Center project teams starts in 15 minutes. You remind him about it then you both head out and go to your desks to prepare. You’re seated on your chair when you look inside his room, meeting his eyes as he looks outside towards you. There’s a small smile on his face that gives you comfort. It’s soft and assuring, and it’s definitely what you need.

Maybe you can start with this, you think, as he nods at you then meets you at your desk to walk towards the conference room. Maybe these are the things you can start savoring before the day comes that you have to leave this place - these moments of quiet assurance, of understanding, of subtle comfort that tells you that despite the walls between you, he’ll be looking out for you even from afar.

The weeks fly by like a blur.

The Thursday after the incident, Jungkook informed you that he got word from the restaurant manager that Chi-won returned to his home in Mokpo to stay with his parents. The next day, you took the train home to Daegu to be with your mom. She hugged you that night as you cried to her, feeling the strength that she’s had all these years, knowing that you have to be just like her and that this time, you have to be strong for her and for yourself.

Spending time with her, Min-woo, and the girls was rejuvenating, and they promised to visit you in Seoul more regularly. They were in your apartment two weekends after, and it truly felt like you’ve become the family you’ve always wanted to have.

Work continued to be hectic as the year-end activities approached. The busyness definitely helped in moving past what you experienced, allowing you to detach from the memories. You gained the strength to keep fighting the way you wanted, and the people around you continued to be supportive and respectful.

Despite all that went on, you managed in organizing the events while also attending to some that Jungkook was invited to.

The first one was organized by the VP’s Office for the partners of projects that it managed, with the other departments attending as well. It was well-organized, and CEO Jeon himself expressed his satisfaction with how the event came together. Jungkook’s speech was impressive. He ran it with you multiple times and he was able to shake off the anxiety by the time he got to the stage. His eloquence enraptured you; so did the way he looked in another Kim Taehyung-customized textured black suit that had you constantly internally smacking yourself because of all the times that Yoongi caught you staring. You were in full denial about your little crush but knowing your friend, he probably had you figured out, and he’d been kind enough not to push it.

The next event was a big one, as the company hosts an annual fellowship dinner for all its partners, which you had a big role in organizing. A few of you were housed in the serviced apartment building near the office leading up to it, as per Jungkook’s instructions, given that he didn’t want any of you commuting or driving home late at night. You remember how he’d said that he couldn’t risk any of his staff’s safety so casually, and you didn’t think he could be more attractive than that moment. Until, of course, when he showed up in his charcoal suit and parted hair, confidently entertaining the guests and delivering another impressive message. You snuck in a few looks later in the evening as he intently watched a ballad performer on stage, his legs crossed as he drank the flute of champagne and licked the remnants of it on his lips, causing your throat to dry up and promise yourself that you’ll get rid of this crush soon enough.

It doesn’t happen, as the final event of the year rolls around. The fellowship dinner this time is with all the staff, including some from the Southeast Asian office. Jungkook goes for a cream-colored suit this time, a light and clean look that makes him look fresh yet sophisticated. You managed to be professional every time he called for you, and you suppose it’s all the stress getting to you, but being near him made you a little anxious - there was a bit of giddiness that you didn’t want to show, but he somehow also calmed you down. The fact that he kept offering you water and making sure you had something to eat didn’t help. You blurted out that you didn’t expect him to be as thoughtful as he was, and when he said that neither did he but that you brought out that side of him after the incident at the restaurant, you had to keep your cool and act unbothered. He looked shy after, and you suppose that he didn’t mean to say it. But he did, and the words kept you up for the nights after.

You know you’re entering prohibited territory at this point and you wish there’s a way out before you get deep into the woods. You let Soomin and Jimin remind you everyday that you can’t nurture the crush, that the attraction can’t be anything more, that there are serious implications if you did, and that you’re gonna have to get over this as soon as possible. It’s Yoongi who tells you to not overthink it, that the more you force yourself out, the harder it actually becomes.

“There are things you just let happen,” he’d said. “That’s how they eventually fall away.”

“That’s how they get worse, too,” you responded.

“They could go either way, but resisting often ends up hurting more.”

You decide to just let the wave take you along while you train yourself to savor the moments for what they are without giving meaning to them. A smile is just a smile, a look is just a look. You know you’ll be without them one day. Just a few more months until you leave the company, and you won’t have a reason to be around Jungkook anymore. At least before then, you can hold onto whatever memories you retain, and you can learn to look back at them with gratitude that during your hardest moments, he made you feel safe.

It’s now towards the end of December and it’s the Tuesday before Jungkook is set to leave for his three-week vacation tomorrow. He called for an early dinner with the team at his new favorite Italian restaurant, wanting to properly say goodbye before you’ll all be without him for a while.

“Savor it, it won't last long,” he teases. “The holidays will be over soon and then I’ll be back before you know it. So enjoy this time that I’m not around.”

“What do you mean, sir? We’ll obviously miss you!” Do-hyun exclaims. “Mostly the once-in-a-blue-moon lunch and dinner treats and the occasional funny remarks but yeah, we’ll definitely feel your absence around.”

Her exaggerated smile lets everyone know she’s teasing, even if you know deep down, she’s telling the truth. Jungkook’s come around these past months, spending a bit of time with each team member and learning their strengths and weaknesses, mentoring the young ones, and sending pastries or dessert during the most hectic days. He’s still serious most of the time and doesn’t join the occasional post-work dinner that Do-hyun guilt trips you into going. There’s always so much to do and his perfectionism has rubbed off on everyone else, but he has his moments. And you know the team appreciates his efforts, too.

“We’ll see. Maybe when I come back you guys will want another boss or something,” he baits.

“That was like, the first two months of you in your role, Mr. Jeon, but we’re over it,” Do-hyun admits, causing Manager Lee to panic.

He glares at her the way Chin-sun does, but you sit there giggling. Jungkook’s chuckling, too, unable to hide his amusement at the young one’s bluntness.

She apologizes but Jungkook brushes it off, saying those first months weren’t his best. You don’t miss the way he looks at you, though, and you’ve trained yourself to not think too much about it, the way you’ve trained yourself these past weeks to just accept his smiles and glances as they are.

“I also took you all here to thank you for this past half-year,” Jungkook continues. “It was tough. I was tough. And it was a big adjustment for everyone but you all showed how good you are as individuals and as a team and I… I needed that.”

“You led us very well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee assures him. “And tough love works sometimes.”

“I suppose it does, and it goes both ways,” Jungkook replies. “And so to thank you, I got you all a little Christmas gift, something you can enjoy when you go on your respective breaks.”

At his words, you distribute the letter envelopes to the team and they open them up, gasping in surprise and in obvious delight.

Jungkook instructed you last week to purchase two vouchers at a luxurious spa for each staff member, hoping that a bit of relaxation can help you all. You were speechless when he said which specific package he wanted, and even if you know the price is just change for him, it was still more than you expected.

“A body scrub, massage, facial, and high tea, on top of the use of their super fancy amenities?” Do-hyun enumerates, her eyes widening in awe. “That’s a full day of being luxurious and feeling rich! Mr. Jeon, this is amazing! I’m totally going by myself and going twice!”

You laugh at her antics, not surprised she’d go that route.

“This is so timely, sir,” Manager Lee says. “My wife and I are celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary next month. This is gonna be a good date.”

“And it’s my birthday in a few weeks,” Chin-sun adds. “This would be so lovely to do with my husband.”

“My girlfriend and I fought so I think she’ll forgive me after I take her with me,” Yohan says, earning him a few laughs.

“What about you, ___? Inviting anyone special?” Do-hyun asks.

“Yes, my mom,” you answer. “She’s visiting next week, then we’ll go home to Daegu for the holidays. I’m sure she’d love this.”

“Ugh, of course. Parents come first,” she sighs.

You laugh her comment and turn to Jungkook, thanking him again for the gift. He thanks you for organizing them, too, and the dinner proceeds with candid spa stories and what you’re all doing for the holidays.

Everyone heads home from the restaurant except for you and Jungkook who return to the office to run through last minute instructions and reminders before he flies in the morning.

You’ve got over a week before your own vacation starts where you’ll spend a few days in Wando, Min-woo’s hometown, but that also means needing to get a lot done before that, and then returning to backlogs after but you’ll worry about that next year. Right now, you’ve got documents that need Jungkook’s signatures and some memos you need him to approve.

It’s another hour until you finish, even if a big part of you doesn’t want him to go just yet. Three weeks feels so long when seeing him five times a week for 12 hours was your everyday these past six months. It’s gonna feel a little odd not having your morning routines and car rides. You remind yourself that you’re gonna have to start getting used to that, given that you’re gonna be letting it all go soon enough. Still, it doesn’t mean you won’t miss it. It doesn’t mean you won’t miss him.

“Have you packed everything, Mr. Jeon? Do you have enough coats? You can get pretty cold. What about all your documents? Did you—”

“Yes, I have,” he chuckles, finding it endearing how you’re speaking too fast and making sure he’s got everything ready.

It’s not your job since this is a personal trip but he supposes that lines have blurred a while back, and he won’t deny that he’s enjoying this bit, especially seeing you worry. He wonders if you’ll miss him, too, but he won’t risk asking you even just to tease.

“I’ve gone on trips before, ___. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Just making sure that things are okay. Because I’m definitely gonna be the one you’ll call if they aren’t.”

“Fair point,” he laughs. “But everything’s good. Hoseok has been bugging me and making sure as well. He doesn’t want anything to mess up this trip.”

“It’s really sweet that he insisted you join him and A-yeong,” you gush. “They love their winter trips and I love seeing all their photos afterwards. I can just imagine how beautiful these ones are gonna be.”

“Well, he says he misses me,” Jungkook shrugs. “I was away for a long time and frankly, we’re more colleagues here than family, so he insisted I go with them. But I also think they just want a photographer because the sights are obviously gonna be gorgeous and I happen to take pretty good photos, you know?”

“I wouldn’t argue against that,” you laugh. “Surely being the third-wheel photographer has its perks?”

“We’ll see. I’ll definitely take advantage.”

“I’m sure they’ll spoil you somehow,” you say. “And you get to enjoy the landscape and the fresh air and the northern lights. Those are definitely gonna look good in pictures.”

“I’ll make sure to take them, then. And show you,” he smiles. “But yeah, I’m looking forward to a different scenery.”

“Where would you have gone if they didn’t ask you to come?”

“Not sure. Maybe to Brazil with Tae and Seokjin. Or somewhere like Hong Kong; I went there last year on my own. This time is gonna be different.”

“And you’ll have companions. That would be nice.”

“It would. That’s different, too, but I’m sure it will be good.”

You think about Jungkook spending his break on his own in a foreign country, navigating it by himself, meeting people, being left alone in his own thoughts. Maybe an occasional companion for the night. Or every night. Perhaps drinking on a rooftop bar to welcome the new year. But just him and no one else. You wonder how lonely that might feel, and you’re glad that at least this time, he can be around people who truly care about him.

Jungkook thinks of how else he can keep you longer, knowing he’ll be without you for three weeks which for him, is an extremely long time.

“Remember to enjoy your time there, okay? Don’t think too much about work,” you pout, knowing he still will.

“___, I’ll be on vacation but I won’t be on a break. You know I’ll still expect updates until next week. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Of course you will,” you tease. “I’ll make sure to keep you posted. I’ll send emails for approvals, maybe call if something urgent comes up.”

“You’re the only one allowed to bother me, about anything. Remember that.”

He says the words with such finality, as if there’s no way for you to resist. You wouldn’t anyway. Other than knowing that you’ll definitely be bugging him for approvals and such, you also would want to know how he’s doing, if he’s enjoying his time away and if he’s getting enough rest.

“I will,” you assure him. “So, uh. You should head out and get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long flight.”

He nods, knowing that he needs to let you go this time. He decides against offering to take you home - you’ve been insisting that it’s not necessary, and that you’ve been fine with your bus rides to your neighborhood in the evening. He doesn’t want to sound desperate so he finally says goodbye.

He lingers, as he doesn’t move for a good half minute and just stands there by your desk, giving you a look to express things that he can’t ever say.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. Take care of yourself out there,” you finally say.

“Goodbye, ___. You do the same. I’ll see you when I get back.”

It’s another few seconds before he manages to start walking away. One last glance then he leaves. And he convinces himself that the sullen look in your eyes means that you’ll be thinking about him while he’s away, the same way he’ll be thinking about you, perhaps while he looks at the sky, knowing it’s the same one you’ll be looking at, and then you wouldn’t feel so far away.

The time on your watch reads 11:10. The plane should be leaving anytime soon, and you wonder how Jungkook is doing, if he was able to sleep well and eat at the airport lounge. You at least know he got there on time. Mr. Ri arrived some time ago to say that he’s dropped Jungkook off and that he was instructed to take you to work and bring you home until your boss comes back from his vacation. You didn’t argue, knowing that it’s Jungkook’s way of making things convenient for you, given all the responsibilities you have to carry while he’s away.

But other than that, you don’t know how he’s doing without any update from him. Which is silly for you to even expect. This is a personal trip, after all, and even if the line has somehow blurred after everything that’s happened between you two, you shouldn’t be waiting for some message about him having boarded or something. You’ll maybe just wait for his email asking for updates about his father’s comments on the policies that Jungkook drafted for approval. Or once A-yeong has posted on social media that they’ve landed.

You shake your head, knowing that liquidating expenses is more important right now than your boss. But then your phone beeps and the smile on your face is immediate.

[From: VP Jeon] The plane arrived late so we just boarded. I’ll get some work done during the flight but I just emailed you an end-of-year message for staff. Can you check if it sounds good?

[To: VP Jeon] I will, sir. Have a safe flight.

[From: VP Jeon] Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’ve landed.

Simple and professional, you think, but somehow the thought of him messaging you before takeoff - even if it’s work-related - has you feeling giddy. There’s no desire for more. Just knowing he’s okay and also still thinking of you has you satisfied.

You don’t get to wipe off the smile quick enough for Yoongi not to see, as you hear him clearing his throat, prompting you to look up and see his amused face.

“I was just checking in to see how you’re coping with your boss away but it seems you’re doing fine,” he starts. “Unless… he’s the reason why you’re smiling.”

Your silence confirms his suspicion, and he merely laughs in response.

“Yah! You’re supposed to reprimand me,” you pout at him.

“And what would that do?” He challenges. “You’re an adult. ___. You feel what you feel, you do what you do. It’s up to you how you want this to play out.”

“Well, I’ll tell you how it will play out,” you say. “I will continue doing what I’m supposed to do, wait for the Arts Center to open, resign, then never have to see or think about him again. And I’ll be content with that.”

Yoongi doesn’t press or counter you, choosing instead to just agree with your plan and be the supportive friend you need him to be, even if your eventual resignation will make him incredibly sad.

You’re very particular with the people you let in, with the people you allow to become an important part of your life. He’s lucky he didn’t scare you away for you to distance yourself from him, and though you didn’t return his feelings, he supposes that’s better. He gets to be someone you feel comfortable enough to be with, to be honest with, and that’s more than he can ask for. However you choose to approach whatever it is you’re feeling for Jungkook, his friend who’s just as cautious when it comes to people, Yoongi will just be there like he has all these years.

“Anyway, is that all you came here for? To know how I was doing?” You ask.

“I sent you the designs and proposals I need Jungkook to go through,” Yoongi responds. “He said to submit them and he’ll review those while he’s there. I wasn’t going to since I want him to actually rest and enjoy his vacation but he’ll be on my ass about it.”

He explains his vision, which you note down so you can articulate it when Jungkook asks. Yoongi leaves you to work on all your tasks, making sure to send you a teasing smile on his way out.

You continue with your day, ending it with an email to your boss about what transpired and the documents he needs to approve. He responds past 1AM the next day during his layover in Amsterdam. Two hours after that, he messages you that they’ve arrived in Denmark and will have dinner before going to bed.

It’s the day after, on a Friday, when he schedules a video call with you that has you fixing your hair and retouching your lipstick before picking up. He shows up on the screen donned in a white jumper, his unstyled hair making him look cozy and much more boyish than you’re used to. You let yourself be familiarized with the scene, with him seated by a desk with the large window behind him showing clear blue skies and colorful structures. He seems to do the same, as the silence lingers for the next half a minute or so.

He speaks up first, greeting you and asking how you’ve been.

“I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. Getting a lot done on the post-event admin work,” you reply. “How about you? You look refreshed and relaxed. That’s a new sight to see.”

“It’s probably the Copenhagen air,” he says. “It’s gorgeous out here. And the buildings are beautiful. We’re staying at this nice boutique hotel that Hoseok and I explored yesterday. It’s giving us ideas for a serviced apartment with this kind of design. Or maybe villas by the mountains.”

“Oh, talking about work while on vacation, I see,” you shake your head. “I bet A-yeong regrets inviting you to join them.”

“Maybe another day of Hoseok and I just going to hotels and random buildings and she already will,” he laughs. “It’s work but also not. It’s nice to feel inspired by the surroundings. I realized that doesn’t really happen when I’m there.”

“Oh I’m sure. You’re VP Jeon when you’re here and there, you’re just a regular person, a traveler, an architect. As long as you’re getting the rest that you deserve,” you smile.

“That’s true,” he nods, taking your words in.

He’s just him while he walks past the canal, while he explores the city and its vibrant structures; he’s just a man in a foreign country who doesn’t have to connect with people, he just has to connect with what’s around him.

“So, let’s go over your email and the things I need to review and approve,” he continues.

Your hour-long meeting proceeds with approvals and instructions, and he impresses you with how much he’s done despite being on vacation. You suppose he’s still jet lagged and is just taking advantage, but you remind him again that the weekend is coming and you won’t be working, so neither should he.

“I know, don’t worry,” he assures you. “We’re heading to other towns these next few days before taking the train to Sweden. I’ll have time to work but also to enjoy the scenery.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re able to take a break from all the craziness back here,” you say, meaning it.

He works so hard and you always wonder if he allows himself to breathe, to take a pause so he can look forward to something, and then savor it when it comes.

“Me, too. So when you take your vacation, I expect the same from you, alright?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sir,” you laugh. “I am gonna completely shut out once I clock off next Friday. You won’t hear from me until I’m back here.”

“Of course,” he says after a beat of silence. “You deserve a longer break, actually. You know you can always request for an extension.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with so much backlog,” you respond. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go and people to drag with me. Plus, I’ll have a few days off for my birthday next month so I’ll definitely have more chances for rest.”

Jungkook nods, knowing that time will be bittersweet for him because you’ll get to have your break while he’ll be without you. Just like how it is now, as he’s on this vacation while you’re left to do so much work thousands of miles away from him. It also means he doesn’t get to do his routine with you, something that’s given him comfort and a sense of stability these past months. Seeing you through this call is his only way to remain connected with you, a chance to know how you’re doing, a moment to hear your voice and see the smile he’s been without. It’s just been two days but he already feels it’s much longer.

He finally lets you go, knowing you’ll be clocking out soon. Even if he doesn’t want to yet, he says goodbye.

As you asked, he savors their second day in the city, but he sees you everywhere - in all the greenery that he passes, in the library down the street, in the cafe with all the pastries that they eat at, and in the sky as he falls asleep at night. There’s comfort in knowing it’s the same one you wake up to every morning.

Not having Jungkook this long is a little disorienting. Sure, he’s been away a few times, but he’d still call or message to ask something or to give you instructions. It’s become your habit to bring him coffee every few hours, and you find yourself making one only to realize that he isn’t around.

Seeing him in A-yeong’s social media feels quite intrusive, but you couldn’t help but watch her Instagram stories, with him in a green fleece jumper as he walked down charming streets last Saturday, and then a black coat over a blue sweatshirt as he strolled the beachside on Sunday. He called the day before, on Tuesday afternoon, for your regular check-in, another hour of talking about work, even if all you wanna hear about is how his days have been. You’ve never thought about it as much before, but somehow seeing him in this way makes you care, it makes you want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking.

You shake away the thoughts as Wednesday ends. It’s been a week since he left and there’s over two more weeks until he’s back. You’ll have another call on Friday and there won’t be another one until you return from your own vacation, and the thought saddens you, knowing there won’t be a reason for either of you to reach out.

But you take it as a challenge, as a way for you to slowly get him out of your system. Hopefully being without him for a while will help.

Friday comes and the call with Jungkook goes a little longer than usual. It’s towards the end when Hoseok and A-yeong make an appearance, as they’re all staying at a rental by the lake in a town in Sweden, and are about to have their breakfast.

“___!” Hoseok chirps. “Is my cousin still working you to the bone?”

“Asks the man who has hours-long meetings with his assistant every other day. If I may say, Hoseok, you’re driving Bitna crazy. I think I just saw her earlier pulling her hair out,” you tease.

“Ah, I don’t blame her. There’s just too much going on,” he sighs. “But at least I’m off her back now. It’s your last day before your break, you shouldn’t even be working right now! You should just be hanging out with the team before you all go out for dinner!”

“Like you said, there’s just too much going on,” you counter.

“These men never stop working, do they?” A-yeong huffs from next to her husband, prompting you to nod in agreement. She turns to Jungkook with her arms on her waist. “I’m telling you now, Kook, how are you gonna find a girlfriend when all you do is work, work, party, work, party, and work? Hmm?”

Jungkook chuckles, his hand behind his neck as he tries to give an answer. You can imagine A-yeong hampering him about this, given that she’s quite the proponent when it comes to companionship. It’s why she’s always patient with Hoseok, and why they love each other as much as they do. There’s understanding and respect, there’s trust and honesty. She’s not afraid to tell him when she feels neglected, and he makes up for it immediately.

“I’ll find her when I’m meant to,” Jungkook responds. “But anyway, I was just about to let ___ go.”

“Finally,” Hoseok says. Turning to you, he gives you that warm smile that you adore. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bug you during your break.”

“Good,” you respond, even if the thought saddens you a little. “Anyway, it looks so pretty out there. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it.”

“It is! And the sights are spectacular, ___. It’s definitely a must-visit,” Hoseok replies.

“One day,” you say, knowing it’ll probably never happen. Still, you indulge him. “I’ll settle with pictures for now, so you better take lots of them for me to see.”

“Ah, Kook is the resident photographer! He’s been taking a lot so he’ll show you.”

“That would be nice,” you smile. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from enjoying your day. So I’ll go ahead. I’ll see you all when you get back!”

They bid you goodbye, and there’s that nod again, that smile, that softness that you’ve started getting used to seeing on Jungkook. It’s what you think about during the team dinner an hour later, while in the car going home as soft music plays, and as you fall asleep.

You hold onto that last image of him, until the next day when A-yeong posts on her socials again. It’s those snippets of his life that make you pause during the day and keep you up at night. There’s so much about him that you’re drawn to, that you want to get to know, that you want to protect.

He’s like a movie that plays in the local theater - captivating, intriguing, yet you remain a spectator and then it ends, moving on and you’ve only got the memory of it etched in your mind. It’s not yours to watch whenever you want and no matter how much you try to analyze it, it’ll always just be your interpretation, not his. He’ll remain as a moving image that you want so much to capture but seems too big, too overwhelming, too far.

But there are instances when you think you’ve got him for a second, that you understand him a little. There are moments like arriving at his penthouse the morning after he gets back from his trip with his mussed hair and oversized jumper that he feels more human, more flawed, more tangible.

It’s when he smiles at you and says that it’s nice to see you again that he feels within reach. It’s also the moment you realize that him being away didn’t really help. If anything, it intensified that feeling that you know you can’t have. You’re gonna lose him one day, and when you do, you hope for only the good memories to stay.

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