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#trust has to be earned it's not just given
jungkookschin · 3 days
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older part 3
think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders
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synopsis: your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, but you just can't seem to let him go.
alternatively, you break jungkook's heart and jungkook enlists in the army to get over you--- but he can't just fuck off from your life forever; your lives are infinitely intertwined
word count: 21k
pairing: older!jk x afab reader
genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes, there is a mention of jungkook shooting someone lol, non explicit smut, mentions of sex
OLDER MASTERLIST
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
When it comes to you, Jungkook’s window of tolerance extends towards the sun and the stars, to Jupiter and Saturn, if you will. For you, he’ll willingly undertake deeds he won’t even entertain for anyone else. 
Anything for you. Whenever and wherever. 
He will, in fact, swoop in and rescue you from a 2AM party (like the Prince Charming he is), even if it means disrupting his beauty sleep because as much as likes your friends, he doesn’t trust them to take you home safely, especially when alcohol is involved. Scratch that, he doesn’t really trust anybody to take you home besides himself. Even with work the next day, the appeal of sleep drowns when you’re drunkenly texting him from some frat mansion at who knows where. 
Approximately 10% of his biweekly earnings are devoted to you, his princess. He would never utter these sentiments aloud, yet he embraces them willingly, indulging in gestures of affection reserved solely for you.
He’s not afraid to wipe your tears, stick his fingers into your nose, or to touch any bodily fluid (given that it comes from you),  because it’s you and his being simply isn’t capable of conjuring feelings of disgust when it’s you. 
He sees you and he loves you, but a man can only take so much. 
“What?” you ask quietly, breathless, like the wind’s been knocked from your lungs. 
Jungkook exhales deeply, straightening his posture as he runs his hands across his face. “Y/N. Get out of my apartment. I’m serious.”
You think that this is the first time in the history of the world Jungkook has straight up told you to leave. 
“Why?” 
“Why?” Jungkook repeats, “What do you mean, why? You ignored me for four months straight. Thanks for spending the night, but you need to leave.”
Jungkook, just a man though he may be, is simply incapable to resist when you show up at his doorstep in the dead of the night- and even if he welcomes you into his home for the last time, he simply isn’t able to welcome you back into his heart. How could he willingly allow you to reclaim his heart’s residence after he’s worked so hard to expel you from its throne? 
Your blatant disregard for his presence spoke volumes; you didn’t care for him nor did you respect him. Jungkook isn’t going to fold simply because he finds you beautiful and perfect and amazing and everything he’s ever wanted. 
“So that’s all I am to you? A quick fuck?”
All the empathy he harbors disperses from his being like a passing breeze, ephemeral and elusive. Evidently, you’ve crossed the line. 
Jungkook blinks at you, his expression unreadable, while you inwardly recoil, immediately regretting your words. Jungkook won’t even entertain the notion. He knows you know how much you mean to him, and quite frankly, he’s appalled that you’re blatantly weaponizing something as pure as his love. 
“Y/N, I’m not going to see my family in a year, and you came to my place and made it all about yourself. You need to go,” Jungkook’s voice is firm and low, and he looks right at you, disappointment reflected in his pupils. 
“I didn’t mean to make it about myself. I just wanted to see you,” You try so desperately hard to rationalize, but he’s right; you weren’t thinking about him, you were thinking about yourself. 
“And by doing that, you made it about yourself-” Jungkook rubs his face with his palms, “Y/N. I don’t want to fight. Just go home.”
He hears a gentle sniffle escape you, and it elicits a heavy sigh from Jungkook. It's like a tug at his heartstrings, but he’s already beyond frustrated, and at this point, he wants to be alone. 
“Jungkook, I-I love you,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. If I’m better by the time you come back, will you give me a chance?”
As you raise your head, tears cascading down your cheeks, Jungkook's heart clenches at the sight. Jungkook hates seeing you cry, and it makes his heart physically ache, but there will be no appeal to his emotions. 
“Y/N- I mean- did you think I was gonna wait forever? You can’t treat a man like that and expect them to wait around forever.”
“But we had sex,” you counter, “The way you fucked me- I know you still love me- so please. I’ll be better. I’ll be better for you. Please,” you beg. 
Jungkook exhales softly, leaning into the support of the wall behind him. He remains stoic, neither affirming nor refuting your observation. He offers no gesture of consolation, no attempt to dry your tears. 
“Go home.”
If he doesn't want you there, then you’ll leave. Clumsily, you stand up from the bed, picking your clothes up from the ground before haphazardly slipping into them, leaving yourself vulnerable under Jungkook’s gaze. 
He doesn’t walk you out. 
You open the door and slam it closed before he can let another word out. 
-
Jungkook has always been a constant presence in your life, like the warmth of the sun on a chilly morning.
He’s very aware of the image you have of him in your cute little head, and he does everything he can to fulfill that image for you. He’s well aware of your little prince charming fantasies revolving around him, and truly, truly does everything to be your Prince Charming. 
He’ll indulge you, always- to the extent where Mingyu and Taehyung constantly throw the term “sugar daddy” around- and of course Jungkook will roll his eyes, but he won’t deny it. 
Jungkook has dropped thousands on you. He’s a single man in his 20’s with way too much money, anyways. So what was he supposed to do? Let all his money sit in his 401K to ensure that he’s financially secure for retirement (🙄) or buy you an unnecessarily expensive designer dress and observe how your face lights up?
Obviously, he’ll choose the latter. 
Simultaneously, that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel the same way. This is so corny, but you’re kind of like the rainbow after a storm, bringing color back to his otherworldly, gloomy world.  
Jungkook’s not perfect. Despite what you think, he’s far from perfect. 
About half a year ago, he thought he hit rock bottom. And when he hit rock bottom, all he needed was you to remedy his mood.
There was an issue at work where he was accused of leaking confidential information to a competitor. The accusations were baseless, but the damage to his reputation was significant. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. He faced scrutiny from his colleagues and doubt from his superiors. 
After an excruciating meeting with the company lawyers, he drove back to his mom’s place- his mood as dark as the night enveloping his luxury car. All he wanted was his mommy. He was a 25 year old grown ass man, but all he wanted was his mommy. 
As he bursts through the front doors, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking greets his nostrils, wrapping him in a sense of comfort and the feeling of home. He heads towards the kitchen, until he walks into something… 
You yelp, rubbing your hand over your forehead. 
“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbles, “My bad, baby. Didn’t see you” Jungkook says apologetically, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. His eyes glaze over your frame, and he smiles. 
You’re in boyshorts and a tank top. Typically of you to treat his parents’ place like it was your own; you’re family anyways. 
Jungkook whizzes past you, setting his work backpack on the kitchen counter. You follow him back into the kitchen, attending to the steak being grilled on the stovetop. You whirl around to face him, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips. 
“You look… handsome,” you finally say. 
Jungkook stares incredulously at you before he bursts into a smile at your anticss. “Oh really? You like me in business formal?” You clasp your palms behind your back and shift your weight between your ankles. “Maybe?” you sheepishly respond, in your typical girlish nature. 
Jungkook bites back a laugh, looking at you smugly. “Where’s mom?” 
You shrug, “She’s probably with her second boyfriend,” you teasingly muse, lips pouted out before you turn around to perceive his reaction. 
Jungkook scoffs at you amusedly before standing up to walk towards you. You smile sheepishly at him, not backing down when he practically towers over you. He pinches your cheek affectionately. “You’re cute, baby,” he jokes, and it makes your heart clench- not in a good way- because he means you’re cute… like a literal infant baby or a puppy, not a woman. 
“Did my mom call you over?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge. 
You nod, “Mm-hmm. She said she had to go run some errands so she wanted me to make you dinner,” you motion towards the steak sizzling in its pan. “Rare, just how you like it! Ta-da!”
He gazes at you with an affectionate smile. “Thanks. Did you drive here or do I need to drop you off?”
You make a pssh sound with your lips, dismissing the notion with a wave,  “I’ve been driving for like two years,” you state matter-a-factly, throwing up a gyaru sign because why not, “I can drive home just fine.”
“Alright, yea,” Jungkook acquiesces, putting his hands up, “You’re all grown up- I get it, I get it.”
“Good,” you respond, plating his steak before handing it to him, “But Jungkook, why are you back home? You usually don’t come home on work nights.”
Jungkook settles at the dining table, before he looks at you and sighs. You tilt your head, very cognizant of his body language. You’re in love with him, of course you can read all his nonverbal cues. 
“Just some shit at work,” he explains, “Has me stressed out of my mind.”
You pout, approaching him before you wrap and arm around his shoulder. The moment feels oddly intimate- like he’s returned to his two-story, middle-class home to his wife cooking up a home-made dinner, her touch everything he needs to bring him down from a stressful day at work. He swears he can even hear the kids crying from upstairs. 
“Wanna talk about it?” you beckon with your sweet voice. 
“Just been accused of some shit,” he mumbles, “Some illegal shit,” he adds, and you rest your head on his shoulder, making him freeze slightly and his chest tighten. 
“Don’t worry,” you sweetly comfort, “The truth will always be revealed, and you’ll be cleared eventually. And besides, you’re young, rich, and hot. As long as you know who you are, you don’t need to worry about others.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly before he relaxes his expression. What a juvenile, yet straightforward outlook on life. So simple, yet so… brilliant?
Jungkook knows that you’re more than capable of understanding the complex intricacies of the professional world, but he finds solace in its simplicity as a counterbalance to his excruciating overthinking. 
He sighs blissfully, turning towards you. “Give me a hug, baby. I need a hug.”
You nod sweetly and wrap your arms around him. “Of course. Call me any time if you want a hug.”
-
You coming on to him the night before enlistment was his last opportunity to indulge in you, and he’s only just a man-  a weak, weak man, so it’s simply in his nature to succumb to your allure. 
Jungkook is now bald, devoid of any hair. Gone with his hair is his sense of confidence. Staring   at his reflection, he runs a hand over his bald head, his mood becoming despondent. 
One hour ago, you slammed his front door, scurrying down the stairs with tears cascading down your cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t like seeing you cry; he hates seeing you cry- but it’s time to let go and live.
The most daunting aspect of dating with an age-gap is the maturity discrepancy. Like two ships sailing different seas, Jungkook has sailed through weathered storms while your sail catches the wind of youthful possibility. 
This discrepancy manifests through communication styles, lifestyle choices, and most importantly, love languages. 
You would never, ever do anything to hurt him purposely- but you did.
Nonetheless, what was Jungkook supposed to expect? Undeniably, he loves you with everything in him but was he supposed to expect you to handle things with the maturity of someone his age?
He should’ve known, and for that, he feels dumb. 
Feels dumb and like an idiot because you used to cartwheel in his room trying to get his attention. Feels dumb because when you were 11, he was already 18– like, what the fuck is that age gap? 
What was he supposed to expect? You lost both of your parents at the same time when you were 20 years old. You’re traumatized, you’re young, and he kinda feels like he took advantage of your juvenile feelings for him- but no, a love like his is pure, and he wants nothing but the best for you, which is why he’s going to let go. 
The wind from a slightly ajar window brushes, spreading the hair around the floor and suddenly glitter comes to mind. 
Glitter. Sparkles. Fairy Dust. 
When you were a senior in high school, Jungkook bought you a prom dress. Your bum ass boyfriend (or situationship- he doesn’t know. He wants to burn the memory of all men who you’ve been with before him) didn’t even want to go to prom with you, and Jungkook, as the great “mom’s friend’s son” he was, offered to buy you a dress- no budget. 
-
Jungkook dropped by your place to drop off some sticky rice, as instructed by his mother; he was a good and obedient son. He knew your parents were at Zumba, so he sent you a quick text in advance. You always responded to his texts immediately, promptly, instantly, right away, and without delay. 
You can only imagine Jungkook’s apprehension when it’s been thirty minutes and you still haven’t come to the door. 
Normally, Jungkook would have been annoyed to wait this long for you, but he’s actually concerned– because what if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go to such extremes, but you were undeniably a gorgeous girl, recently 18, and he knew that so many men had their eyes on you. 
Not him, though. He was a gentleman. 
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Jungkook swings open the door of his car, swiftly walking towards your front door. On cue, the outer door swings open, and you’re standing apprehensively, struggling to unlock the screen door because the fucking lock always gets jammed. The lock just won’t budge and after a good second of trying, you bang your fist against the door, yelling a very non-intimidating “Fuck!”
Jungkook smiles, “Twist the door knob, then try the lock,” he gently instructs. You oblige, and the screen door swings open. 
“I’ll come back tomorrow to fix that,” he adds before walking towards your kitchen to place the sticky rice into the fridge. 
“Thanks,” you mumble, taking a seat at the dining table. 
Jungkook glances back at you from the fridge, “Why’d you cry?”
The question is asked with a subtle casualty, and that makes you want to actually go curl into a ditch and die. 
To Jungkook, it was painfully obvious. He’s known you since forever and has all your mannerisms ingrained into his mind like a tattoo. Usually, when you wake up, you’re quite lethargic, stumbling around with your eyes half cracked open- but right now, you’re cognizant as ever. 
Furthermore, when you cry, your eyes usually swell up- more so than the average person. After you cry, it’s like your eyes turned into little, red, puffy balls with slits for seeing.  And Jungkook had eyes, superb vision, actually, and he could clearly see that your eyes were in fact, swollen. 
“t’s nothing,” you mumble, “It’s stupid.”
Jungkook purses his lips, contemplating whether he should push further. Your big mouth keeps going before he can get a word out. 
“Well, if I tell you, promise not to judge me?” you ask, sticking out your pinky finger. 
Jungkook locks the promise in. “Never,” he breathes. 
“Well… it’s just… you know…”
Jungkook raises a brow. 
“I just… I hate my boobs.”
Jungkook blinks at you, and you blink at him. 
“You said you weren’t going to judge me!” 
Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted. “I just- wait-” he pauses, putting his hands up, “What’s wrong with your boobs? They look normal to me.”
Your features contort into petulance, and you pout. Immediately, you rise, wiping the dust off your shorts before you divulge into the full story. Jungkook can only sit there and listen. 
 “Okay, listen. Let me start from the beginning,” you start, pacing around, “So I ordered two prom dresses,” you explain, making a peace sign with your hands. 
“And they looked so good on the models, but they look horrible on me! Because my boobs are so small and my body looks imbalanced! So I cried about it. I just wanted to feel pretty…. Do you think my parents will be mad at me if I get my tits done?”
Jungkook blinks at you. At the time, he hadn’t a clue of how to respond, but oh how he grew to love your boobs. In fact, he currently wishes that they were swinging in his face. 
“Y/N, don’t get a boob job,” is the first thing he says. 
What else could he say? He couldn’t tell you that he thinks your body is perfect, or that you’d look stunning in any dress you wear- he did not want to creep you out. “Lemme see you try the dresses,” he offers, “You’re probably in your head- it can’t be that bad.”
“I’m 18,” you counter, “It’s completely legal for me to get a boob job. I don’t even want D’s! I think I would be okay with B’s. In fact, all I need to do is sell a couple feet pictures and I’d have enough to finance my boob job-”
“Y/N. Just try on the dress.”
“Fine,” you huff, puffing up the stairs. 
A few moments later, you reappear, and Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva. The dress you're wearing captures his attention entirely.  Its fabric shimmers under the kitchen light, a juxtaposition against the bland interior, cascading in gentle folds as it hugs your curves delicately. With each step, the skirt sways gently, whispering secrets of a night yet to unfold.
Gorgeous. Stunning. Most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he recalls the pang of guilt that washed over him, because you’re seven years younger, and it feels wrong, incongruous. 
Fortunately for him, Jungkook is great at hiding his emotions, so even a slightly suspicious clearing of the throat does nothing to phase you. 
You pause, blinking at him, and he blinks back at you. 
“I told you it was bad!-”
“Wait, no. Stop. It’s not bad…” Jungkook offers. 
You blink at each other again. 
“Oh, you fucking liar!” you scoff.
“What?” Jungkook retorts, features morphing into confusion, “Why would I lie? I always just say whatever I want to say.“
You groan, plopping onto the dining room table with your arms crossed. “You don’t know anything about prom dresses,” you mutter. 
This marked the first time Jungkook perceived you as a woman. He spent a year suppressing it all because of the guilt, but it became inevitable. It bubbled up and exploded; he couldn’t contain it anymore. 
“Well…” he started, every so carefully pulling his wallet from his pocket, using two fingers to take out his credit card, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you another one? One more suitable for… flatter chests?”
You gasped like you’d never breathed air before, jumping to your feet, “Really? Would you really do that?!”
Jungkook shrugged casually, did everything to mask his thunderous heartbeat banging in his chest, “Yea, why not? I have money.”
At that, you squealed, jumping on both feet before you absolutely enveloped him in a hug. 
Still staring at his reflection, Jungkook returns to Earth. You’re so childish and dumb, but he can’t help that he’s deeply enamored with you, and because of that, he’s going to go to the military and pretend like he never existed in the first place.  
-
In the first few weeks at the military, Jungkook finds the distance more excruciating than he had when you ignored him. He enlisted in the first place to get his mind off you, to learn to live without you, but you’re the only person on his mind. 
It certainly doesn’t help that he’s carrying a locket bearing your image, but he can’t bring himself to throw it out. He doesn’t even know why he has it in the first place, or why he had it custom made; he feels obsessive but whenever Jungkook’s on his last lap, his last pushup, or his last pullup, you’re the thought to propel him forward. 
The military barracks are cold, dusty, and lonely. Sometimes, he can’t sleep, and on those restless nights, he finds himself reaching for the locket. Staring at the image of you smiling back at him, it’s like a tangible reminder of something he can’t quite explain. 
He holds the locket in his hand, tracing the edges with its fingertips. He remembers your touch, your warmth, the way your hand fits perfectly in his.
True loser behavior. 
You ignored him for fucking months, didn’t care how he was doing, or if he were laying dead in a ditch, yet he still loves you, still clings onto you. If he didn’t enlist, he probably would’ve ran back to you the moment you showed up at his place. 
If anything, you’re not the type of girl who should be in a locket. You’re immature, childish, and rude, but he holds the locket close to his heart, because quite frankly, he hears how the men in the military speak about women, and he would never ever subject you to that. 
Some guys hang up cute pictures and polaroids of their girlfriends on the bunks, which would almost immediately be thrown into the trash because of the insane comments from the (obviously single) guys. 
Jungkook deems running as the most arduous drill in boot camp. 
Jungkook can do three or five miles easily, but twelve miles with gear on? Absolutely not. What makes it worse is when the other guys try to make small talk- wasn’t running excruciating enough?
Even on the eighth mile, Jungkook clutches the locket tightly in his grasp. The sensation burning in his abs is borderline excruciating, and he opens the locket to glimpse at your image 
James, the absolute deviant of the 8th squad, approaches Jungkook from the rear. “Who’s that, Jeon?” James asks. 
Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut; this is the last thing he wanted. He says nothing, slightly accelerating in speed.
As James draws nearer, his tone dripping with mockery, Jungkook's muscles tense with apprehension. 
"Come on, Jeon, spill it," James prods, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Who's the lucky lady in the locket?"
Jungkook's jaw clenches, his grip on the locket tightening. He knows the implications of revealing your identity in this environment, where vulnerability is exploited and secrets are ammunition.
"Just keep running," Jungkook retorts, his voice strained with suppressed frustration. Running 12 miles with 50 pounds of gear was already hell, why was he trying to pick a fight? 
But James persists, matching Jungkook's stride with unsettling ease. "Oh, come on, Jeon, don't be shy," he taunts, edging closer. "Is she the reason you're always off in your own world during training?"
A surge of anger pulses through Jungkook's veins, his resolve fraying under James's relentless scrutiny. He fights to keep his emotions in check, knowing that any sign of weakness could be exploited.
With a steely gaze, Jungkook halts abruptly, turning to face James with a glare. "Back off, James," he warns, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, before he returns to his usual stride. 
James's grin widens, sensing Jungkook's vulnerability. "Someone’s sensitive,” James teases, “Scared your girl’s with the mailman right now?”
Jungkook’s features harden, and he continues onto the ninth mile. His feet ache, and the mud is starting to seep into his socks. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by Wooseok, who comes to his defense. 
Wooseok bumps shoulder with James from behind. “Chill, James. He’s got her in a locket. Better not mess with that.”
-
Jungkook hates to admit it, but James got to his head. 
Jungkook knows he’s the one who let you go, and that there’s no winning in this situation, but he’s selfish and the thought of you with another man makes him physically ill. Had it been any other girl, he would immediately lose interest the moment he discovered she was messing around with others- but the thought of you with someone else physically hurts. 
He doesn’t have much access to his phone, and there’s nothing to take his mind off it. 
There’s that taboo story about men in the military getting cheated on. It's a tale as old as time. 
The fear of infidelity hangs over these soldiers constantly- but you’re not even his girlfriend. 
So if you were to move on, there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with that. 
Isn’t that what he wanted? For you to find happiness with someone your own age? Someone you would love, not just be infatuated with. 
But fuck, why does it makes his heart swell? The thought of another man seeing you, feeling you, and touching you the way he has, the way he should be, makes him ill. 
-
You know you said you were going to change, and you’re really, really trying. It’s been one month since your last encounter with Jungkook and you think things are taking an upward trajectory. 
For one, you’ve started your internship with the local bank, and you’re making a lot of money (to your standards), definitely not a lot to someone like Jungkook, but it’s good enough for you. Since summer hit, you’ve retaken some of the classes you failed, and your GPA has now returned to the 3.0 range. 
However, that doesn’t mean that your obsession with Jungkook has dwindled in the slightest. You’re childish in a sense, and you’re kind of taking advantage of your relationship with his parents to see what he’s up to at all times. 
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You’re snooping over Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder like the nosy girl you are, and you scandalously gasp at Jungkook’s text. 
“Haha yea, Y/N looks pretty” is probably the most disingenuous thing he’s ever said about you.   
Like sure, whatever, he’s calling you pretty but he’s only saying it because his mom asked him whether he thinks you’re pretty in the first place. 
Your eyes continue skimming down the phone and you see something that makes your jaw drop to your ass
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Jungkook’s mother shuts her phone off and squeals. “Oh Y/N! I can’t wait for Jungkookie to get married! I want grandbabies already, she pouts. 
It’s like a punch to the gut. The thought of another girl walking down the aisle to marry Jungkook makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you so jealous you can’t fathom it. It's a visceral reaction, a knot tightening in your stomach as jealousy courses through your veins, clouding your thoughts and stirring emotions you never knew existed.
Every detail of the imagined scene plays out in your mind like a cruel movie reel, tormenting you with the painful reality of what could be. 
With a forced smile, you manage to utter, "That's great, Mrs. Jeon. I'm sure Jungkook will make a wonderful husband one day."
-
Jungkook’s friends, in fact, do not hate you.
Actually, they’re quite nice and understanding of the situation at hand. Maybe it’s the fact that you shoved meat down their throats before explaining how you actually felt, or because you were somewhat valid in your decision to not acknowledge Jungkook’s existence for four months. 
“He’s probably not mad at you,” Mingyu reasons, toying with the hem of his beanie before shoving a piece of beef into his mouth, “I don’t think he has the capacity to be angry at-”
Taehyung furrows his brows and Mingyu continues his sentiment, “at Y/N,” Mingyu clarifies, “He’d never be mad at Y/N.”
You sigh, using your chopsticks to flip some meat over, “He kicked me out of his apartment,” you express. 
“No,” Taehyung contests, “You chose to move out, didn’t you?”
You chew on your lip apprehensively, suddenly finding the need to rake your fingers through your hair, “Yea, but I spent the night before he enlisted and he kicked me out in the morning.”
Taehyung pauses, exchanging glances with Mingyu. “By spend the night, you mean…?”
“Yes, I mean,” you confirm, “I just don’t want him to hate me. I know I fucked up, but I would never do anything to hurt him on purpose. I mean- not to use it as an excuse- but my parents’ suddenly died in a fucking car accident? Am I supposed to be normal after that? I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just couldn’t at the time, and I’m not sure if I can, at all.”
Mingyu purses his lips, “I just think he- you know- was super heartbroken. Y/N, Jungkook really loves you, and by love I mean that you’re probably the only girl he will ever love. He probably just needed time to process everything too,” he says gently, reaching out to give your hand a brotherly squeeze. 
“You made him cry,” Taehyung asserts, and you pause. 
“Seriously?”
Taehyung’s lips form into a straight line and he shrugs, “You made him cry. Showed up at my place in the middle of the night drunk and in tears over you.”
At that, you sink into the leather seat. Cry? You’ve known Jungkook since you were born and you’ve never seen him cry before. 
You bang your head against the table- a little too hard- and you yelp in pain , clutching your forehead. Mingyu immediately whisks closer to you, gently removing your hand and scrutinizing the mark on your forehead. 
You’re suddenly reminded of something Soobin said to you a couple weeks ago. Something about Jungkook’s friends are just as brotherly as Jungkook, always going the extra mile to take care of you, and suddenly you feel bad. 
You groan, “Guys I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for things to get so messy. I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this- but I really care about Jungkook, I really do.”
Taehyung’s grumpy face finally relaxes, “We know you do, Y/N. No one is mad at you- trust me. But you have to make up your mind: do you want him or not? You can’t be wishy washy about this- Jungkook’s a lot older than you. He can’t waste his whole life waiting on you-”
“I want him,” you immediately declare, “I want him, and I’m ready to give everything to show that I love him.”
Mingyu smiles at you, “Well tell him that, not us.”
Your cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yea. I might.”
The rest of the night continues with ease. Mingyu and Taehyung ask you about school, give you professional advice for the future, and at the end of the night you reach over the table to give your card to the waitress, but Taehyung physically holds you back, and Mingyu gives his card to the waiter. 
You’re truly so loved.
-
Things change and people change. 
The first time Jungkook gets leave from the military is for the memorial service for your parents. 
You’ve put the memorial service off for about a year. As their only daughter and remaining heir of your parents, the decision of when and where to hold the memorial service rested solely with you. 
Yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it, especially with Jungkook in the military. 
Like the blossoming of spring, a year has passed, and at 21, you've graduated college, content yet eager for new beginnings.
When Jungkook's mother called you, brimming with excitement, inviting you to join in picking him up from the enlistment site, you couldn't find it in your heart to decline. Even when Jungkook kicked you from his apartment, you and he both knew that you couldn’t just fuck off from his life entirely. 
Since birth, Jungkook has always been there. His parents, who are practically your aunt and uncle, have nurtured and cared for you since forever. You've shared in every significant milestone of his life, from graduations and birthdays, and when he gets married, you know you’ll be there, even if it tears you apart. 
Your lives would be forever intertwined.  
Had you changed since that night at his apartment? Kinda? Not really.  
You've moved out from the mansion shared with friends to your own space. With a “lucrative” five-figure job, late-night parties and raves are a thing of the past. You’re all for early morning runs and late night reading. 
With the anticipation of seeing Jungkook for the first time since that day, you find yourself more fixated on your outfit than you’ve ever been in your life. More so than prom, more so than Coachella, and more so than graduation. 
Jungkook has only ever seen you in hoodies and sweats, a crop top and ripped jeans, or the occasional mini bodycon dress- you don’t think he’s ever seen you in business casual. You wear a chic satin blouse with jeans and closed toed heels. 
Jungkook’s parents don’t really like to drive, so of course, you’re driving Jungkook’s Mercedes, (he so carefully left in the care of his parents), to the enlistment sight, which you’re sure he’ll be absolutely thrilled to see. He never let you drive his car out of the parking lot. 
As you slide into the driver’s seat of the car, a wave of anxiety washes over you. This is the first time you would see him in an entire year- the longest you’ve been apart. What would he look like? Does he still have feelings for you? Is he still upset with you? Has he completely forgotten about you? 
With a soft click, the engine hums to life, and you follow the GPS through the streets towards the enlistment sight. Jungkook’s parents sit in the back, occasionally passing you trail mix and bananas. 
You pull up to the enlistment sight, waiting anxiously with your arms crossed amongst the crowds of people. 
Jungkook emerges from the crowd in his military uniform, and your heart swells with pride and sorrow. He looks so handsome. He looks bigger, stronger, more rugged. You’ve seen celebrities and models in person before and they could never compare.  You step to the side as he greets his parents, and when he turns his head, he locks eyes with you. 
It’s like the world stops revolving. 
It’s been a year since you’ve seen him and he never ever fails to make you feel this way. He’s made you feel this way since you were 15 and the feeling never dissipated, only amplified.  
Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you swallow. 
Jungkook doesn’t look at you in any type of way. His eyes scan over you and he sends you a genuine smile. “Hey Y/N,” he offers, opening his arms for a hug. You hug him from the side, reciprocating his polite smile. “Hi Jungkook. You look nice.”
“You look pretty,” he offers before turning towards his parents and casually taking the keys from your hand. 
“Should we go now?”
Jungkook drives all the way home, with you in the passenger seat. You don’t say much. You find yourself simply listening as Jungkook shares with his parents what life in the military is like.
It was expected from everyone that Jungkook would do well in the army. When he was 15 years old, a personal trainer told him that he’d bulk up in muscle from just lifting a spoon. 
After reaching home,  Jungkook’s parents suggest you show him around your new place, and neither of you really have a choice but to oblige. 
The moment Jungkook’s parents are dropped off at his place, an awkward silence absolutely encapsulates the inside of that Mercedes. You don’t say anything; you just lean your head on the window, looking outside the city where you and Jungkook have been for your entire life. 
Jungkook says nothing either, tapping his fingers against the drivers’ wheel. 
Finally, he speaks up. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation.”
“It’s fine,” you mumble in response, “You’re busy.”
“Yea.”
More silence overwhelms the car. 
“So what did you do with your parents’ house?” he asks, flickering his eyes towards you. You push yourself further against the seat. 
“AirBnb,” is all you can conjure. 
Your parents were loaded and left you with a plethora of assets. The house, for one, is your second stream of income. You locked off yours and your parents’ room, and cleaned up the rest of the house for it to be rented out.
“Smart,” he offers. 
“Thanks.”
He hums in response, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Instinctively, his hands reach towards the radio, turning the Bluetooth on, which of course is already connected to your phone. 
Everytime by Ariana Grande blares through the radio, making you temporarily freeze. 
I get weak and fall like a teenager
Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?
I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it
Self-destruct, show up like an idiot
Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you? 
I go back to you, back to you, back to you
Back to you, back to you, back to you
I go back to you, back to you, back to you, every time
You’ve had enough. You turn the radio off and roll the window down, your head peeking through from the outside while you let the wind blow against your face. 
Jungkook doesn’t say anything either, just continues following the GPS to your apartment. 
-
After what seems like forever, he eventually reaches the security gate. "4832," you mention, prompting him to enter the number and which opens the security gate.
“It’s good you live in a gated community,” he comments, “it’s safer that way.”
“Yea,” you agree, not really sure what else 
You and Jungkook take the elevator to your place, and you punch the code in before letting Jungkook in. 
Jungkook thinks your place is so you. It smells sweet, like vanilla. There’s a white, fluffy couch in front of the TV with stacks of Rilakkuma plushies. Your kitchen is clean, well organized; he sees a heart shaped bowl in the middle of the dining room table. Framed photos adorn the shelves: some of you with your parents, your friends, and one with him and his family from Jungkook’s college graduation. 
You rub your palms on your jeans. “So, what do you think?”
“Nice,” he responds, “I’m proud of you.”
You purse your lips and nod. “Thanks… I have a room prepared for you– but is there anything you want to do tonight? Mingyu and Tae can come over, if you’d like.”
Jungkook toys with his lower lip before he tilts his head. It slightly bothers him that his friends have been over at yours, and that you mention it so casually- but of course, he doesn’t mention it. 
“No, it’s cool,” he responds, “You look tired. You had to drive a while to get me,” he offers. 
“No, no,” you shake your head, “It’s fine. Not a big deal…. You look strong.”
Jungkook smiles, “Yea. Military drills and stuff,” he rests a hand on the kitchen counter and leans against it. 
His eyes flicker towards you, looking you up and down. You gulp.
“I missed you,” you finally say, “... and I bought you something.”
Jungkook raises a brow, watching you daintily step into your room to pull out a small black box. You hand it to him, and he delicately opens it. A golden chain. 
“I don’t know,” you murmur, “I see lots of military guys wearing chains and I thought you’d like one too,” you offer, shifting your weight between your ankles. 
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, “Probably the first time you’ve ever gotten me a gift,” he jokes, to which you playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll wear it when I get back to camp.”
You nod, rising on your tippy toes a bit. “And I’m sorry. For last time… y’know.”
Jungkook's expression crumbles. He licks his lips, “It’s okay. I should have been more understanding. You were going through a lot,” he whispers. 
You nod. “I know. But I should have communicated more so I’m sorry. Just so you  know, I’m still…” 
What should you say? I’m still in love with you? I still think about you every day? I’m nothing without you?
Jungkook’s features soften, and you bite your lip. 
"I'm still... here," you murmur, the words carrying the weight of your emotions as you struggle to articulate the depth of your feelings.
Jungkook's expression softens, a gentle understanding dawning in his eyes as he nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll always be here too,” is all he says. 
Again, silence overwhelms the room.
 “Right… well, my head hurts a little so I’m going to lie down for a bit. Wake me up if you need anything.”
Jungkook tilts his head, approaching you before he presses the back of his palm against your forehead. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs, and you swat his hand away. 
“It’s fine. Just nervous about tomorrow,” you murmur. 
“I’ll call Yeonjun.”
-
You didn’t expect him to offer to take care of you, cater to your every whim. You really didn’t. 
However, straight-up leaving a moment later most definitely caught you off guard. Deep down, you had hoped for a gesture of consideration, like offering to pick up medicine from Walgreens or Walmart, or something. 
In that instant, memories flood back of how he cared for you after your parents died. He was so attentive, so sweet. He home cooked you breakfast, meal prepped lunch, and ordered you take out in the evening. You were so out of it, too weak to even function and Jungkook catered to everything you needed.
It’s almost ironic that he zoomed from your apartment the moment he discovered you were ill. You shrug. There's no need to dwell on it or feel upset. It was odd that his parents suggested he spend the night with you. He should be with his parents anyways. 
Even though you prepared a room for him, Jungkook goes back to his parents that night, and Yeonjun to yours. 
Yeonjun is one of your best friends in the entire world, really, so you’re sorry that you’re treating him like this. 
“Yeonjun, if we’re both single at 30, wanna get married?” You plead from the couch, your head resting on the arm and your feet dangling above the backseat. 
Yeonjun graces you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen in your life. Yet, he still drapes a blanket over your frame, placing a wet cloth on your forehead. He doesn’t even entertain the notion. 
“Maybe go back to Sunghoon. He’d seem desperate enough to give you another chance,” Yeonjun murmurs, resting on the opposing side of the couch with his arms crossed. 
You pout, before bursting into laughter. You roll from the couch and land on the floor with a thud. Yeonjun joins you, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from you. He wipes a stray hair from your cheek, a cup of Buldak seemingly materializing in his hands. Seriously. Where’d he get that from?
“Y/N, that man does not want you,” Yeonjun states matter-a-factly, his demeanor solemn, a juxtaposition to the goofy red sauce stained around his lips. 
And you can’t believe it, but you actually find it in you to giggle at that. Teetering back and forth from where you’re sitting, you sputter out a clumsy “Seems like I’m getting deja vu. How many times in your life have you told me that?”
“Millions,” Yeonjun shrugs, stuffing his face with ramen. 
“But you were wrong,” you muse, “I did have a chance with him. He said he was in love with me.”
“Yea,” Yeonjun agrees, before tilting his head, “but you fumbled.”
“I fumbled,” you concur.
“You traumatized that man. He does not want your musty ass,” Yeonjun teases, flicking your forehead with his vacant hand. 
“He does not want my musty ass,” you concur once again, a teasing smile spreading across your lips, before bursting into a fit of giggles. 
Observing you, Yeonjun cracks a smile. “I’m glad you’re not being a crybaby about it anymore,” he comments, “FIrst loves are first loves,” he shrugs, “They say your second love is actually your true first love because they make you realize you weren’t actually in love with your first love.”
“Maybe,” you add, staring up at the ceiling fan swirling in circles and circles and circles- and it makes you dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Who would that even be?,” you ponder aloud, “Sunghoon is cute, but he doesn’t like me anymore.”
“Well, you can ask them, because I invited them over,” Yeonjun adds, suddenly locking eyes with you. You take a moment to process what he just said. 
“What?-”
On cue, the doorbell rings, and Yeonjuns stands up, waltzing to get the door like he’s the owner of the damn apartment. 
You scramble to your feet as Yeonjun swings open the door with a swish. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon flood in, a teddy bear in Heeseung’s hands and a pot in Sunghoon’s. 
Heeseung looks you up and down, sticking the teddy bear in your face. “Heard you were sick,” he says plainly, soliciting you to just blink at him. 
Sunghoon scoffs from the side, “Yea Heeseung, just go add it to the stack of a hundred plushies she already has,” motioning towards your living room that indeed has a stack of Sanrio and Rilakkuma plushies in the corner. 
You snort, snatching the teddy bear from his grimy little fingers. “Thanks… asshole.”
Sunghoon rummages through the fridge, placing his little pot in and taking a box of apple juice out. “I brought you dumpling soup. Just put it on the stove when you’re ready,” he instructs. 
Heeseung joins Yeonjun in the living room, letting out a low whistle. “You have a pretty nice place, Y/N. Don’t miss living with us at all?”
You huff, stomping over towards Heeseung before pointing your finger in his face. “You slept with someone in my room!” you accuse, “No, I do not miss living with you!”
Heeseung puts his hands up, “Hey, I already apologized! That was in the past. I’m a born-again virgin now,” he continues. 
You blink, exchanging a glance with Yeonjun before returning your gaze to Heeseung. The words leave you speechless, leaving you with nothing to say in response.
Nonetheless, you bend down to give him a hug, maneuvering to lie down on his thigh while you stare at the ceiling. “I have a fever guys,” you mumble, “Can’t have our entire university here bothering me and shit,” you joke, swatting their air like the boys are a bunch of pesky flies. 
“Please,” Heeseung teases, “You’ll start crying the moment we leave.”
“Maybe,” slips from your mouth, and you run your hands over your face. 
“What happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon adds, a cup of Buldak ramen somehow also materializing in his hands. These boys are really raiding your ramen stash. 
“Y/N fumbled,” Yeonjun answers for you, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. 
Heeseung puts a hand on your forehead. “Holy shit Y/N! You really are burning up… are fevers contagious?”
“How gentlemanly of you,” you murmur. 
“Wait, let me feel,” Sunghoon intervenes, pressing one hand against your forehead and the other against his. He gauges it for a moment. At that moment, you do recall that Sunghoon’s dad is a doctor, and he might have some magical prognosis for the situation at hand. 
“Yea, you have a fever,” Sunghoon confirms. 
You and Heeseung roll your eyes in unison. 
“But what happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon questions, settling back into his spot on the floor. 
“I fumbled,” you respond, using Yeonjun’s words exactly. “But it’s fine. It’s whatever. I have a memorial service to worry about tomorrow,” you mutter. 
At that, a solemn silence washes over the room. It doesn’t make you feel any type of way. You wouldn’t know what to say to a girl who lost both of her parents either. 
“You also fumbled Sunghoon,” Heeseung jokes, immediately easing the atmosphere and eliciting an Oh c’mon from Sunghoon and laughter from you and Yeonjun. 
Genuinely, you found that funny. 
You feel complete and content. 
-
Throughout the night, the three boys took turns tending to you, diligently replacing the ice pack on your forehead. It was crucial for your fever to break, knowing that the following day was your parents’ memorial service (the reason why Jungkook is even back in town). Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunghoon ran home to change into proper attire, promising you that they’d get back to you as soon as possible. 
Drifting in, adorned in a long black skirt and a matching blouse, a black ribbon delicately tied into your hair in a half-up, half-down style, you arrive at the memorial service site several hours ahead of schedule- to grant yourself the necessary time for mental preparation and to ensure the arrangements have been made. 
Sitting alone in the parking lot, the floodgates of your own emotions explode, and you drown in your own feelings. Since Jungkook's enlistment, you've buried yourself in work- barely finding time to arrange everything for the upcoming service. 
You realize you haven’t even taken a moment to process how you truly feel about everything. 
You’re only 21 years old. This fucking sucks. 
You ache for the warmth of your parents' embrace, desperately missing the solace only your mother could provide. In moments like these,  you find yourself longing for her gentle hug, her soothing words, and her infinite love. 
You feel tears well in your waterline, and you immediately wipe them with your sleeve. 
You had to be strong for your parents. 
They never liked seeing you cry, always told you to be strong.
With a deep inhale, you swing open the door and stride into the memorial service center, ready to attend to the necessary preparations.
The moment you step into the building, your eyes lock onto Jungkook. 
Adorned in a somber black suit with his hands tucked into his pockets, he paces anxiously, his presence immediately drawing your attention.
This isn’t the time; it really isn’t, but he’s perfect. He’s so handsome, even without his hair, even when he doesn’t talk to you, even when you don’t see him. 
When he senses your presence, he immediately turns towards you. 
“Y/N.”
“Jungkook. Thanks for being here,” you say, pulling him in for another side hug. 
“Yea, of course,” he mumbles, “You feeling better?” 
You nod, “Yea ‘m good. My fever broke…  did the guy say anything?” ou inquire, swiftly diverting the conversation. 
Jungkook appears slightly taken aback, but he responds, "Yeah. Good. They have everything set up. They just need the portrait of Auntie and Uncle."
Dangling your keys in front of him, you continue, "They're in the trunk. Can you get them? I have to- I have to use the restroom." Jungkook studies your face for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, totally."
"Thanks," you mumble before darting into the restroom.
Obviously, you’re on the verge of tears and he could palpably feel and see that. Once inside the stall, the floodgates burst open. The despondency of everything absolutely devours you and you feel so pitiful, so sad that you’re in this situation, and that your parents are gone– forever.
 Your parents are gone. You think Jungkook is gone. You have nobody. You’re alone. The family that you grew up with… it would never be the same. 
After a moment of letting your emotions flow, you take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. You had anticipated this moment, knowing that you would inevitably end up crying like a little baby, so you had opted for a bare face today.
You leave the restroom, hanging your head, and when you look up, you lock eyes with Jungkook. 
With furrowed brows, his eyes sweep over your puffy ones, noticing the glossy scleras and the tears welling up once again. Staring at him, you feel pathetic, and you let out a quiet sob before burying your face into your hands. 
And suddenly, you feel him. 
Like the comfort of the gentle breeze on a Spring day, Jungkook envelops you with his strong arms, and suddenly everything’s okay. He holds you and it’s reminiscent of all the times he’s cared for you, doted on you, and expressed his love for you. He soothingly runs his hand up and down your back, pressing you against the wall and away from the eyes of bystanders. 
You remain still, sniffling and drying your eyes, overwhelmed before pulling away. Jungkook runs a hand over your hair, eyes glazing over your face. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to. 
The way he looks at you is enough. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. 
The beauty of your relationship with Jungkook is that in itself. It would be alright. Everything would be alright so long as he’s there- even just as a friend. 
To love someone is to love from afar. To love someone is to love without reciprocation. You love Jungkook and he loves you. Some people are so filled with hatred and resentment- the ability to even love after all you’ve been through is astounding in itself.
Your love for Jungkook is a powerful thing.  It would carry you far, and to simply possess the ability to love is far more significant than being in a relationship with him. 
“Y/N!” On cue, Yeonjun makes his appearance in the lobby, tilting his head when he sees you and Jungkook standing closely together by the hallway. 
Jungkook motions towards Yeonjun, and you nod, not before you stand on your tiptoes to give him another hug– not a side hug, but a real hug. “Thank you,” you whisper against his neck before you skip towards Yeonjun and your other friends. 
-
The memorial service begins and ends with reverence. 
Surrounded by your family and friends, you begin to feel overwhelmed by your sense of community. 
The service room is reminiscent of that of a church. You sit on the front row, Yeonjun on one side and Yunjin on the other. Both of them are holding each of your hands as you listen to your maternal aunt tell stories of your parents from their youth.
Through her words, you get a glimpse of your parents in their youth– just two kids stupid in love, youthful, lively, and brimming with aspirations. It gives you peace that they were able to live their dreams out before they died- one of those dreams being seeing you graduate high school. It’s a shame they weren’t present at your college graduation. 
After listening to your aunt, your grandma, and Jungkook’s mom. Jungkook is next. You didn’t know he’d be talking, but his mom let you know that he had something prepared.
He saunters towards the front from the second row, hands in his pockets, before he clears his throat, taking a piece of paper from his pocket, coughing against his closed fist before he speaks up. 
“Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ were the most selfless people I know. When my mother couldn't join me for Mother's Day lunch at school, Auntie __ stepped in. As I learned to ride a bike, it was Uncle ___ who stayed outside with me for hours, patiently assisting me as I struggled to find my balance,” he starts, meeting your eyes before looking back into the general audience. 
“Auntie and Uncle were filled with so much love and trust. They embraced a more liberal parenting style, trusting in the inherent kindness of the world to play a role in shaping their daughter's character.”
It’s funny, because as he’s speaking about you, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “They exposed her to life's various facets, both its joys and challenges, instilling in her a deep understanding of the world's complexities. And their approach paid off. They leave behind a daughter, one of the most compassionate and beautiful souls who embodies traits of independence, strength, and intelligence.”
Your heart clenches, and you raise your lashes, hanging onto his every word. You can feel your  heart beating against your chest. 
“To honor their legacy, let’s approach the world with less caution and more trust. Embrace the goodness of the world and live happily, just like Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ did. Thank you.”
Jungkook still doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his seat, but yours follows his all the way to his seat.
-
Right after the memorial service, Jungkook catches you off guard. He strides over, giving you a hug– a full hug– before whispering in your ear, the baritone of his voice causing goosebumps  to erect on your skin. “I have to go now, but stay safe. I’ll see you when I get back.”
You look up at him, nodding. “Yea. See you.”
He doesn’t say anything else, walking towards his parents and taking the keys to his own car before he leaves. All your friends watch Jungkook just as intently, but nobody says anything. You don’t talk about Jungkook much with your friends anymore. There’s not really a reason to. 
And just like that, you don’t see Jungkook for another six months. 
-
The next time you see Jungkook is when he comes home from the military. 
This time, you aren’t able to join his parents to pick him up, and it’s not because you’re avoiding him, but because you have an important meeting at work– a meeting that you just can’t wiggle your way out of. 
Apparently, the higher ups are announcing something– something so important that apparently they need the entire company present…. And why couldn’t have this just been an email?
As the hours tick by, you sit in your cubicle, completing an analysis of consumer behavior for a client. Work isn’t particularly exciting nor is it a bore. You currently work in consulting, specializing in data analysis to help clients make decisions for their businesses.
At 4PM, an hour before everybody goes home, the higher ups gather everyone into the auditorium. 
You sit next to Mary, one of the colleagues on your team, about 50 years old, who taps you on the shoulder and whispers. “My oh my, if they wanted to kill us all, this would be the perfect time to drop a bomb,” she jokes, which makes you smile. 
That was a cute comment. You place your hand over hers. “Well, at least we’d go out together, right? HR won’t have to spend any more on those team building exercises,” you joke with a gag, prompting Mary to roll her eyes. 
The tension in the room is palpable as the CEO takes the stage and clears their throat, prompting everyone’s attention.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm pleased to announce that after months of negotiations, we have finalized a merger agreement with HYBE Korea," the CEO declares, gesturing towards the screen where the company logo appears.
“This means that some of the departments will be relocating to HYBE," the CEO announces, his voice projecting as he gestures towards the screen displaying the company's new logo. "HYBE is investing in a new building equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, providing us with an exciting opportunity to expand our operations."
You pause, and that’s when the realization sinks in. 
Jungkook works for HYBE. 
"In celebration of this milestone, we will be hosting a party next month to commemorate the merger. More details will be sent through email.” the CEO continues, his words met with a ripple of applause and relieved smiles from the crowd. "It will be an opportunity for us to come together as a unified team and celebrate the bright future that lies ahead."
Mary’s saying something to you but you’re not even processing it, trying to understand the implications of the merger. 
There’s no way you’d be working with Jungkook– imagine the odds of that. But, what if? 
He gets back today and everything feels surreal. 
-
After you get back to your car, Jungkook’s mother calls you, excitedly urging you to drive over to her place to celebrate Jungkook’s return from the military. You tell her that of course you’ll be there before you start driving down the oh so familiar streets to Jungkook’s child home. 
Upon pulling up, you see a familiar face. 
Rolling down the window, you call out his name, “Tae!!”
Taehyung, who is in the midst of walking towards the front door, whips his head towards your voice. “Y/N, hey!”
He waits for you to park, you clumsily grabbing onto your purse so you can meet him at the front. 
“I missed you,” you say. 
“I missed you too. Text me more,” he responds before scanning you up and down, “You look… fancy,” Taehyung comments to which you sigh playfully. 
“You know, I chose to waste my life away as a corporate slave,” you muse, giving him a hug. 
“Just like your boyfriend,” Taehyung jokes, making an obvious reference to Jungkook. 
“Oh shut up,” you sigh, swatting his bicep, allowing him to open the door for you. 
The moment you walk in, Jungkook’s mother squeals like she’s never seen you in her life. “Omo, omo, omo! Y/N is here everyone!” she announces excitedly, scurrying over to you, immediately latching onto your bicep to pull you towards the crowd, “Y/N is here! Y/N is here!”
Jungkook is standing by the dining table, surrounded by his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He lifts his head to meet eyes with you, offering you a gentle smile. The way he looks at you, smiles at you– it’s just, it makes your heart swell. 
Every time you see him, it’s like time slows down. 
You can imagine waking up this smile every morning, rolling over to find his handsome face gazing softly at you to- 
Wait. Have you lost your mind?
And at that moment, you’re tackled to the ground by Jungkook’s six year old cousin, Jacob. If Jungkook is no longer in love with you, the only solace you have is the affection of his six year old cousin. 
He grabs your face with both palms, causing your lips to pucker as he pouts at you. “Why didn’t you say hi to me?” 
You gently grab his face and ruffle hush air. “Sowwy, Jacob. You’re too little I didn’t see you,” you reason to which Jacob, for some reason, becomes angry at. 
He rolls over onto the ground, just to get up and stomp away. “I am not little!” he declares, stomping up the stairs. You can hear the door slam and you exchange bewildered glances with Jacob’s mother, who shakes her head. 
“He's just going through a bit of a phase," she reassures you with a smile, before turning to follow Jacob upstairs. You lock eyes with Jungkook, who gives you a subtle smile. 
The Jeon family is filled with drama queens. 
Jungkook closes the distance between you. “Hey.”
You feel your heart skip a beat. 
He’s as handsome as ever. Just like he’s always been. 
“Hey, welcome back,” you sheepishly express, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug. 
He hugs you– like, really hugs you. Both of his strong arms snake around your waist, holding you against him securely. It leaves you weak in the knees. It’s a little too intimate for a casual, welcome back hug, but you haven’t a problem with it. 
He pulls back, and all you can do is stare at him. You’re mesmerized. Again, he always makes you feel like this. This feeling will never dissipate. 
“Did you just get back from work?” 
You come back to Earth, pulled from your entrancement. 
“Yea, I did…” You scan him up and down. He’s wearing something casual– a black T-shirt and black shorts, but his physique still looks perfect and he still looks perfect. Without thinking, you speak, “Did you happen to hear about the- no, nevermind.”
Jungkook tilts his head with a slightly teasing expression, “No, say it,” he urges
“The merger.”
“Merger?”
You say it in unison, and you bite a smile back. 
Jungkook’s mom automatically intervenes, “Omo! Omo!” she exclaims, “A merger? What merger?”
“Y/N’s company and my company are merging,” Jungkook simply answers, looking at you to raise his brows. 
“Omo!” she exclaims again, almost theatrically falling to her knees, “Does this mean that you two will be working together?” she asks, motioning towards you and Jungkook, to which you sheepishly shake your head. 
“Probably not,” you dismiss, “I don’t even know if my department is relocating to the new facility.”
“Oh, I hope you do!” Jungkook’s mother pouts, “That would be absolutely perfect! It would be great if he could watch over you at work,” she reasons, before addressing the entire family, “Y/N is very pretty and gets hits on a lot,” she explains, making you squeeze your features in embarrassment. 
All of Jungkook’s older family members murmur in agreement– and you appreciate the hype, you really do, but it’s embarrassing, especially in front of the entire family. You place a hand on Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder. “Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to use the restroom,” you whisper, to which she gives you two big thumbs ups. 
On your way to the restroom, you stop in your tracks. None other than Yeonjun, the ANTAGONIST, steps out, swatting the air like he’d just taken a nasty shit. 
You blink at him and he blinks at you. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you deadpan. 
Yeonjun shrugs, “Jungkook’s aunt invited me. She thinks I’m a cutie pie.”
“Okay,” you roll your eyes, walking past him to inconspicuously drag him with you into the restroom. 
You throw him onto the toilet seat, looking into the mirror to touch up your makeup. 
“Y/N, this looks suspicious,” Yeonjun deadpans, watching you reapply your lip gloss and comb through your eyebrows. 
At that, you drop your hand from your face. “Oh shit, that’s true,” you gasp, a hand coming over your mouth. 
For the past– like– two years, Jungkook’s family has been under the impression that you and Yeonjun are dating. That notion couldn’t be farther from the truth. 
You inhale sharply, turning towards Yeonjun, “You leave first and then I’ll follow.”
Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sure thing, Y/N. Just pray that nobody’s waiting outside," he says with a mocking smile before slipping out of the restroom.
And of course, Jungkook’s mother was right outside the door. She shrieks. 
-
Every single one of Jungkook’s aunts and uncles met you when you were just an itty-bitty baby.   
Occasionally, you keep in touch with the aunts and uncles– not nearly as much as you do with Jungkook’s parents, but goodness, are you thankful for your connections to the Jeon family because you find out that Jungkook’s uncle won the lottery. 
The literal lottery– and he bought a yacht, a yacht that he suggests to all the “kids” (a bunch of 20-something year olds, pushing 30) to go on a little cruise in celebration of Jungkook’s return. 
You really wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t rush home to get your bikini and sunscreen, and of course, you dragged Yeonjun along with you. 
The yacht, even under the night sky, is the fanciest, most luxurious thing you've ever laid eyes on. Its lights twinkle like stars, casting a gentle glow on the water. It's like a dream come true, a magical oasis on the dark sea. 
This is so cute, so summer. 
With your towel laid against the deck, you’re lying on the deck like you’re suntanning, which isn’t possible because it’s the moon’s light that shines down on you, but at least it makes you feel like a magical moon fairy. 
“Get the angles right!” you bark to which Yeonjun rolls his eyes to the back of his head and groans. 
With your forearm resting against the deck, you hold your body up sideways, all your assets on display. With your knees touching, your hip touches the deck, and your other arm goes up in the air, and you’re waving it around like a little mermaid. 
In a sense, you’re posing to get a cute Instagram pic– but also because you know Jungkook might be watching from the upper deck. He’s probably drinking with his friends, not even batting a lash nor caring about you, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that he could be checking you out from a distance. 
“Y/N, I took like 300,” he deadpans, dismissing your complaints with a wave, “Take some for me now,” he instructs, standing up to hand you his phone, “I’m cuter than you so they better look better than yours.”
“Yea, yea. Whatever,” you muse, going along with the bit, holding up your phone to get all the good angles for your forever bestie. 
-
Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook sit on the upper deck, staring at the night sky with bottles of Soju in their hands. Like you and Yeonjun, they’re in their swim trunks, though no one is entirely certain they want to go for a swim in the chilly  water. 
Unbeknownst to you, the four men have a clear view of you from the upper deck.
The flash of the phone camera flickers comically, occasionally lighting up the mens’ faces as they all try to avoid looking at you– out of chivalry, of course. 
Taehyung is particularly amusing, maintaining his expression of stoicism as he stares directly into the moon, taking an occasional sip of Soju. 
At that moment, Jungkook knows that he chose the right friends because he himself can’t seem to rip his eyes from you. You’re beautiful; that is absolute, without a doubt– but something has changed– maybe it’s the angle that the cool breeze hits his face or the alcohol making him feel soothingly warm on the inside. 
Jungkook sees it in your mannerisms, the way you poise yourself, the way you walk, the way you talk. You were gorgeous before, and he was insane about you before, but damn– you’ve become such a woman. 
He knows what it is, but he’d be a dick to patronize you for it, to act like he’s proud of you for becoming more confident. Undoubtedly, you’ve developed a more profound sense of confidence and it makes Jungkook swell with pride because he remembers how you’ve agonized over your body, complaining about your boobs, your weight, your waist, when in reality everything was and is perfect. 
You’re as beautiful as a Victoria’s Secret model, as ethereal as the goddess of beauty, and Jungkook’s just happy to see that you’ve embraced it. 
You yourself would agree with the sentiment; it wasn’t until your 20’s that you grasped how utterly gorgeous you are, and how to embrace your beauty, make yourself look good and like you, not just like every other girl on Instagram. 
Jimin clears his throat, “So.. now that you’re back, are you and Y/N going to…”
Jungkook lifts his head and looks at Jimin. He shakes his head. It’s firm and absolute. “No, it’s better for us to be friends.”
Mingyu raises a brow, “You can’t take your eyes off her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he rationalizes, “People can like each other and still be incompatible.”
“Incompatible?” Taehyung repeats, a twinge of confrontation in his voice, “If I had a girl like Y/N in my life I’d propose immediately.”
Jungkook stares into the moon, “I need a cigarette-”
“Okay, what is wrong with you?” Jimin challenges, rising to his feet, “Y/N is right there,” Jimin whisper-yells, motioning towards the lower deck, “You clearly still feel something for her, so do something about it. I mean- how would you feel if someone– not me… I don’t know. How would you feel if Mingyu hit on her right now? And they started dating?’
“Why me?-”
“That would be inappropriate,” Jungkook retorts, “Y/N can date whoever she wants, just not you guys.”
“Then what about Yeonjun?” Taehyung intervenes calmly, “Yeonjun’s a good kid. She brings him to all your family events. They’re cute together, huh?” Taehyung motions towards the lower deck, where you and Yeonjun are laying on your sides facing each other, animatedly discussing something probably stupid, like penguins. 
He notices the skinship, how your hand is casually thrown around Yeonjun’s waist, and how you occasionally swat at his shoulder whenever he says something a little too egregious. 
No, it doesn’t bother Jungkook. 
Jungkook actually likes that you have male friends, that you can maintain friendships with the opposite gender without it having to mean more. 
It means that he can trust you, and that he can trust your friends to take care of you. 
But what trust is at stake here? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend nor should he worry about who’s taking care of you or not taking care of you. Furthermore, it really isn’t his place to feel betrayed, like you cheated on him, by the prospect of you actually forming a relationship with Yeonjun–. 
“See? You look hurt as fuck,” Taehyung affirms.
“I’m not hurt-”
“Get your shit together, and get your girl. Y/N’s not perfect, but she could be perfect for you,” Taehyung shrugs at his corny play of words, earning a playful shoulder nudge from Mingyu. 
“Aye, that was a good one.”
On cue, he hears two inconspicuous splashes into the ocean, your squeals echoing across the atmosphere. 
“Tag, you’re it!”
“Bitch! You just kicked my balls!”
“I said tag, you’re it!”
But wait, isn’t it a little too dark to be swimming this late?
-
When it comes to you it’s like Jungkook’s protective instinct never dies. 
Descending the stairs to the lower deck, he watches Yeonjun as he climbs onto the deck. “Y/N, you need to stop kicking my nuts! Holy shit!”
“I said sorry!” you retort, “I didn’t know!”
Yeonjun grumbles something indistinctive before picking a towel up to  roughly dry his hair, disappearing into the restroom. 
“Y/N, it isn’t safe to swim alone at night,” Jungkook mumbles. He takes a seat on the lower deck, his feet submerged under the water. The water is icy cold, and he can’t conceive how you’re not shivering. He’s not being patronizing. He’s simply worried for your safety. 
You swim towards him, hands latching around his ankles to stabilize yourself beneath the water. 
It’s the casual skinship between you two. The way his hand lingered on your shoulder when he told you his uncle bought a yacht. It’s the way he can casually wipe food from your mouth with his bare hands without batting a lash. It’s the way your fingers trail up his legs so you can place your forearms against his thighs, resting your head on them. 
“Then… why don’t you come join me..?” 
Jungkook really doesn’t want to. The water is cold, the weather is cold, and he’s very much comfortable on the warm yacht. 
….
Jungkook submerges himself under the water, coming up before flicking his head back to rid the water from his eyes. 
“It’s cold as fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, body temperature still adjusting to the chilly water.
He freezes when your fingertips brush against his. abs— perhaps accidentally, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him feel any less electrified.
“That’s why it’s good to have more than one person in here,” you rationalize, “More body heat.”
You’re treading against the water, and not doing a great job at it- your head bobs with the motion of the waves, and you find yourself sputtering the water out of your mouth as you speak.
Jungkook wipes his face haphazardly with his left hand before he reaches out to stabilize you, holding onto your bicep. 
It makes your heart skip a beat. So big and strong. You can smell the shampoo on his wet hair, and it makes you dizzy because not only does he always look good, he always smells good. 
Your eyes trail from his bicep to his shoulder, neck, and finally, to his eyes. He’s already looking at you, the warmth of his gaze making you feel so secure and safe. 
You know he wants you. There’s no way he can look at you like this and not want you. 
It hasn’t even been a day since he’s returned from the military and he looks at you the same way he looked at you from the night before he left: with love. 
Your eyes flicker down to his lips, his pretty lips. He’s so pretty. You close the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize you further, and you draw your lips to his- 
Until he turns his head.
Still, his hands grab your waist, holding you close to him against the water, but he looks into the ocean, 90 degrees from you, refusing to look at you or meet your eyes. 
“It’s cold, we should get out. I don’t want to get sick,” he suggests.
“Yea, okay,” you sheepishly agree, allowing him to hoist you onto the lower deck before following in your stead.
He throws you a vacant towel, “You alright?”
Catching it with a single hand,  you use it to pat yourself dry, composing yourself before you stare at him. 
“I’m fine.”
-
That night, Jungkook’s mother suggests you spend the night at her house, or that Jungkook drive you home given how late it is. 
Instead, you sneak out of the house and drive home, far too embarrassed to be around Jungkook let alone look him in the eye. 
That was so humiliating. You think about how you behaved while you were staying with him after your parents’ death. You exposed yourself to him in the shower and begged him to join you. What the hell were you even thinking? Should you just drive your car off this cliff?
When you pull into your apartment complex’s parking lot, you keep banging your head against the steering wheel in hopes that maybe you’d wake up and realize that tonight was just an embarrassing dream. 
Well, unfortunately it wasn’t a dream, because later that night Jungkook shows up at your door with your wallet in his hand. You answer the door in a loose T-shirt, boyshorts, and a Snorlax plush headband on your head with a gray face mask. 
“My mom told me to give this back to you.”
You take the wallet, “Thanks.”
You stand there for a moment, staring at him. 
He looks at you, pursing his lips before he places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’ll always care about you, alright?”
You nod, fidgeting with the charm of your necklace, “I know.”
“Good. I’ll be going, then,” Jungkook announces. 
“Alright, drive safely,” you respond. 
With a brief nod, Jungkook moves to shut the door and depart, and for some reason you just can’t bear to see him go so your hands instinctively reach for him, latching around his wrist. 
Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you, and you almost yank your hand from him immediately. 
“It’s nothing,” you express, biting your lip. 
“Alright then, I’ll see you.”
“Good night.”
The moment he leaves, you scold yourself for being so emboldened. Weren’t you embarrassed enough? You open your fridge, pouring yourself a glass of champagne, before you pace around your apartment, your champagne swishing in your glass while you find yourself in deep contemplation.
Jungkook’s back. 
Everything you’ve ever wanted is back, in front of you. 
You hurt him, and apparently you made him cry, well- that was all in the past, anyways. 
It doesn’t matter because you love him. You really do. You love him with your entire soul, heart, and being, and you know your feelings are reciprocated, so if there’s even a chance that he’s willing to give it another shot, you’ve got to do something about it. 
Instinctively, you grab your laptop and place it on the dining table, stretching your fingers out to write the longest text message you’ve probably sent in your life. 
Once your pinky finger presses the Enter key, you slam your laptop shut, pacing around your apartment until you hear a ding from your phone. 
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You nearly screech, running to your bathroom to wash off the face mask, putting some moisturizer on, combing through your eyebrows, and applying your lip gloss before- 
Ding Dong
You open the door, looking up at Jungkook with big eyes while he looks down at you. He runs his hand through his hair before holding your face with his palms, studying you, his eyes urgently scanning your features for any hint of insincerity. 
“You mean it?”
“Yes,” you say resolutely, struggling against his firm grasp, your lips slightly puckering. 
“Prove it then,” he demands.
He lets go of your face and welcomes himself into your humble abode. 
Taking a seat on your couch, he crosses his arms, watching you intently as if waiting for you to break out into a soliloquy. 
You don’t know what to say, and you’re far too embarrassed to admit your transgressions aloud, until a light bulb appears over your head. 
“My diary,” you suggest, “I’ll let you read… parts of my diary, but you have to prove it first.”
You expect him to ask you how, or to ask you what he’s supposed to be proving, but he doesn’t. 
“Okay. C’mere,” he says with a tilt of his head. All you can do is shift your weight between ankles, before shyly approaching him. 
“Sit,” he gently instructs. 
You nod, about to seat yourself on the area beside him before he grabs your wrist and twirls you around so that you’re straddling him. Your hands find themselves on your shoulders, and Jungkook wraps his around your back. 
“Y/N, I..” he starts, his gently brown orbs studying your features, “I know what you think of me,” he sighs as if just relinquished from holding the weight of the world, “and I promise you that I’m not that man,” he continues, scrutinizing your every nonverbal response.
“I’m selfish, I’m immature,” he starts, brushing your bangs from your face, “but never with you,” he finishes. “I always showed you the best parts of me, always wanted you to see me as someone you can rely on,” he expresses, gently cradling your face, “but I don’t think you realize how much I depend on you, how much I need you too.”
Your features scrunch, studying his features, digesting his words. He reaches in his pocket for something, before pulling out a heart shaped locket. He uses his other arm to delicately grasp your hand, placing the locket in your hand. 
“Look at it,” he instructs, and you follow, your fingertips clumsily opening the locket. Your heart swells. The heart shaped locket bears an image of you. 
“Being in the military wasn’t easy for me,” he continues, “but I had you with me. Had my favorite girl with me. You gave me strength.”
“When you left that morning, I regretted what I said to you. I thought I was too harsh, and that I’d lost you forever. That was one of the worst feelings in my life– but to me, I felt that you were the one who turned me down. I thought that you were just infatuated with me, that you wouldn’t care about me if you’d see how immature and selfish I really am. But I love you so much that I was okay with that. I’m okay with anything as long as it’s you,” he finally finishes.
You don’t know what to say. Your eyes flicker towards the locket, “You could’ve chosen a better picture,” you mumble, to which Jungkook amusedly scoffs. 
“That’s all you have to say?” he muses. 
Your cheeks turn strawberry pink, and you climb off his lap, running to your room to grab your diary. You return, skipping through the pages, before you  land on the one you want to show him. 
You jut it towards him, “Here.”
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Jungkook’s eyes glaze over the page, and he starts reading it aloud, mocking your voice, “I graduate college today-”
You literally throw yourself on him to shut him up, “Do not.”
A cheeky smile dances across his face as his eyes scan over the page. After a moment, he looks up and pouts, “Awe, baby,” he coos. 
Your face scrunches cutely. 
“Come gimme a hug,” he sweetly beckons, to which you sheepishly jump into his lap again, his arms snaking around your waist while he soothingly runs his hands up and down your back. 
“I’ll always be here for you, whether we’re together or not,” he whispers against your skin, “You mean everything to me.”
“I know,” you self-consciously respond.
"There's nothing you can do to be 'worthy' of me. I love you for you. You can be the world's richest person or the world's poorest person and there's nothing that would change for me, seriously. All you need to do is continue loving yourself, and that's good enough for me."
"Even if I turned into a worm? You'd still love me?" you ask, your voice coming out as a slight whimper.
Jungkook smiles. Obviously not, but of course, he'll indulge you. "Of course," he says, his voice like honey, "I'd carry you around in my pocket."
"Thanks," you sheepishly murmur, “There are just things I’m worried about, but I trust you with everything.”
He hums in agreement, “We’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” you concede, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you forever.”
“I love you forever too.”
The moment feels so intimate. Your chests are heart to heart, beating in unison as you relish the sensation of having him in your arms, having him back. 
-
Dating Jungkook officially means you get to indulge in all of your innermost desires, the little things you never thought you’d see into fruition– because the reality is that you’ve seen Jungkook in every way. He’s been to your house thousands of times, and you’ve slept over at his hundreds of times, but having him in a different way fills you with an indescribable sense of excitement and joy. 
He’s taken you shopping thousands of times, but this time is different. Jungkook is affectionately, overwhelmingly so. He’ll keep his fingers intertwined with yours even when your palms become drenched with sweat. As stated before, he doesn’t care about any distinct bodily fluid if it’s yours. 
He’ll hold you from behind while you browse through clothes, give you the occasional peck when you’re in line– it seems like he’s enjoying this domestic intimacy as much as you are. The poor guy has been in the military for a whole year. 
“That one’s cute,” he comments, motioning towards a white sundress hanging on the rack, just beside the crop top you’re currently looking at. He keeps your body close to him, his arms so casually thrown around you from behind. His fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his index, and every so often, he presses kisses to your cheek, neck, and skillfully cradles your face, forcing your jaw towards him for a sweet kiss. 
“Should I try it on?” you ask with a cute tilt of your head. 
“I like it,” he offers, “I rarely see you in dresses. You always look so pretty.”
His sentiment makes you blush– you’re already aware that when he’s around, you’ve only really been in casual clothes: crop tops, sweatpants, and flared leggings. You want to show him a new side of you. 
“We could go to the beach together,” you offer. 
Jungkook hums in agreement, “Of course, baby,” he agrees, “You looked really pretty in that matching skirt and crop top thing you wore last time.”
“Which one?”
“The one you broke my heart in,” he teases. 
You amusedly scoff, twirling around to grab his face and press a kiss on his lips. He acts annoyed, doesn’t return the kiss, just stares down at you, but still chases your lips when you pull away. 
If the skinship is this pervasive in public, you can’t imagine how he would behave behind closed doors.
Jungkook got back yesterday, and you think that he’s really taking his fill of you after being deprived from you for so long. 
Yesterday was Friday, and today is Saturday… meaning that neither of you have nothing to do.
Nothing to do but look at cute princess dresses at the mall, cuddle, and watch Jujutsu Kaisen, obviously. 
Even while doing something as mundane as watching anime from the floor, you sit in between his legs, back pressed up against his chest, and his arms around your waist, fingers playing and pinching with the chub of your tummy. 
He can’t keep his hands off you. 
The sounds of Gojo and Toji’s fight are drowned by the pounding of your cardiac palpitations. Jungkook’s large hands are splayed against the front of your body, his hands trailing up and around your stomach and back,  rubbing your skin, and sinking his fingertips into your chub. 
You gasp softly when you feel him unclasp your bra. 
He pulls his arms around you even more securely, tugging you onto his lap before he buries his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, and his hands return to your stomach– and you think they’re going to trail up. Perhaps he’ll grab a handful of titty or rub a nipple until he doesn’t-
His hands trail to your legs, rubbing his palms up and down each calf lovingly before he laces his fingers through your toes, and gently pushes you off his lap…?
He rises to his feet. “I’m hungry, want me to make some ramen for you?”
“Uh yea, sure,” you smile. 
You and Jungkook have done it before: twice. Once at the beach villa and the second before he enlisted. 
Every time was magical, electrifying, the best you’ve ever had. He led you through each and every step with expertise and he was so soft, so sweet, and it felt so fucking good. 
Admittedly, your past, insecure, and inquisitive self did some snooping around and you are aware of Jungkook’s body count: 13. You were the 13th, and quite honestly, it didn’t make you feel the greatest; you despise the thought of Jungkook with another woman, but you suppose that there is something nice about having an experienced man. 
It’s not like you weren’t inexperienced either. 
Your body count was– like– 6. 
It’s not like any of the men before Jungkook actually made you come. It felt good, you guess, but having sex with someone you’re in love with is indescribable.  
You want to do it with him, but there’s something that makes you feel subconscious about making the first move, especially when it comes to something as intimate and forth putting as sex. 
You don’t find yourself seductive enough to do so, and you already have societal norms against you. 
Women are the gatekeepers of sex. Men are the ones who want to unlock the gate. Blah Blah Blah. 
Well, you want to have sex too because you’re unbelievably in love and aroused by this man. 
So, would you be making the first move? You’ve changed a lot since the emboldened 19 year old you once were. 
In conclusion, no. You will absolutely not be making the first move. You will just have to suck it up. 
-
That Saturday night, Jungkook stays over at your place. 
Nothing happens, of course, but that doesn’t mean that Jungkook doesn’t spoon you like a prison inmate incarcerated in his little Jungkook cell. He snores softly against the crook of your neck. 
Living alone isn’t easy, especially as a 21 year old (subjectively hot) girl. You double lock your doors. You have a baseball bat with nails hidden in the depths of your closet. While Jungkook was in the army, you had Yeonjun, Soobin, and Beomgyu on speed dial just in case anything were to happen. 
It was stressful, and it gave you crippling anxiety at times. 
But Jungkook is your Prince Charming in every way, from the way he makes you feel, to the way he dotes on you, and to the way he protects you. Jungkook’s got big strong military muscles, and you know that he’d never let anything happen to you. 
Since forever, he’s always casually swept you towards the inside of the sidewalk, stepped in front of you when a stranger approached, and of course you aren’t aware of this, but the reason those creepy frat boys started leaving you alone was because of him. 
The sun rises, its sweet rays as warm as the feeling intensifying your chest. Jungkook’s arms are still draped on your sides, and you turn over so you can get a real good glimpse at his sleeping face. 
So handsome. Jungkook is sleeping calmly, soft snores leaving his mouth, and it brings you so much joy to see him at peace. 
You run a thumb over his brow, pressing a soft kiss to the area in between his eyebrows. Slowly, his eyes open, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, and you can’t fathom how handsome you think he is. 
“G’morning baby,” he says in a soft voice, the grogginess of his morning voice making you gulp. 
“Hi,” you sweetly respond, “Sorry for waking you. You can go back to sleep. It’s Sunday,” you say folding the comforter away from you to sneak out of bed. 
Jungkook protests with a hum, “I want you to stay with me,” he mumbles. 
“You don’t want breakfast?” 
“Can’t sleep without you,” he responds, his chest rising slightly, which makes you pout. 
“Alright.”
Peace. Serenity. Serendipity. Everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re so in love. 
-
Later that day, you get an email from the company, which is surprising since it’s Sunday, but essentially, the email states that your department will be transferring to the new HYBE facility. You flip your phone to show Jungkook the screen, who is sitting across the table stuffing his face with noodles with a Snorlax headband in his hair. 
On cue, Jungkook’s phone dings, and he pulls out his phone. 
“Oh shit,” he says aloud, “Same.”
You’re a bit taken aback, “Are you serious?” you ask, scrambling to your feet before racing around the dining room to glimpse at Jungkook’s phone. 
Dear Jungkook, We're pleased to inform you that your department facilities are relocating to a new, improved location. This move is part of our ongoing commitment to efficiency and employee satisfaction…
You exchange glances with him, blinking at him momentarily before you speak. 
“You’re going to get sick of me if you have to see me everyday,” you deadpan, prompting him to theatrically roll his eyes. 
“You do analytics, I do software development. We’re not even going to be on the same floor,” he declares matter-a-factly, “You’ll probably be with… the marketing girls or something.”
“Oh really?” you muse, raising your brows, “You don’t want to see me at work? You’d rather be with those ‘marketing girls’?”
Jungkook purses his lips, staring at you unimpressed, before a smile spreads across his lips. 
“If I see you at work,” he whispers, fingertips dancing  along your thigh before his palms grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling you towards him, “I won’t be able to focus. I’d be too distracted keeping my eyes on the pretty girl from the Analytics department.”
You blush slightly, “Oh- oh, shut up.”
“What? It’s the truth. Either you or I have to quit, and it won’t be me. I have seniority over you.”
You know he’s joking, but the notion makes you scowl. You step out of his grasp, “That’s not funny,” you mutter, crossing your arms. 
He shrugs, “I could really turn into the sugar daddy you’ve always dreamed about.”
“Don’t undermine me because I don’t have as much experience as you do,” you direct, to which Jungkook theatrically drops his jaw, rising to his feet. 
You look him right in the eye, maintaining your glare as he starts to tower over you. “Oh c’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he comforts. 
You shake your head, rolling your eyes, “Asshole,” you spit, stomping away from him, to which Jungkook follows. 
“Seriously? I was joking!” he reasons, following you to your room. You walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it before he can trail in your stead. At that, Jungkook scoffs, not believing that you were taking it this seriously. 
He knocks on the door. “Y/N,” he calls, dragging out your name. 
You don’t say anything, and he squeezes his eyes in defeat when he hears the sound of the shower starting, opting to slip into your bed whilst waiting for you to return. He sighs, running his hands over his face. 
To be honest, Jungkook is a little triggered. He hates the whole silent treatment thing more than anything else. Last year, you ignored him for four months straight and it nearly killed him  on the inside. 
Minutes later, you emerge from the shower, one towel wrapped around your body and the other wrapped around your hair. You cross your arms, staring at him. The towel wrapped around your frame is loose, threatening to fall beneath the nipple. 
Jungkook sighs, standing up and sauntering over. Your eyes are glossy, not from the water from the shower, and the tip of your nose is a cute shade of pink. Your features are twisted up into petulance, your lips displaying a subtle pout. 
Seeing you in distress pains him too. 
His gentle and careful fingers pull the towel above your breast. He knows you feel vulnerable and he doesn’t want you to inadvertently expose yourself and contribute to that vulnerability, his left hand rubbing your nape up and down gently. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” he inquires sweetly, bending over to draw your lips in for a honeyed kiss. 
“I just–” you start, unable to meet his eyes as you crane your head the other way. Jungkook gently cradles your jaw, directing your focus back to him. Looking into his eyes, you choke up. “I just– I know you weren’t being serious, but I just feel belittled, like is my work so unserious that one day I’ll just end up being a trad wife or stay at home mom?” 
Jungkook feels awful. He was already aware that you had some sort of inferiority complex when it came to him, and knowing that he fed into it makes him regret everything he’s ever said. 
Jungkook opens and closes his mouth immediately, looking for the right words. He places both palms on your shoulders, “Shit. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean it that way at all,” he expresses, “I was just– I was just being a dick,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. “I don’t think of you that way at all,” he continues, “I mean– look at you. You’re 21 and you’re rich, you’ve got a good job. You’re up there with all these old people,” he jokes, eliciting a sweet giggle from your lips. 
“I only said it because I love you and I like the thought of taking care of you,” he says, to which you squirm. 
You squirm in place, looking the other way, “So are you mad at me? For ignoring you?” you sweetly beckon, and Jungkook draws your lips for another sweet kiss. 
“No, baby. I’m thankful you said something, though,” he offers, continually rubbing your nape up and down. 
“I can take care of you too,” you declare, “Remember? We’re equals now,” you express, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. 
That night, Jungkook helps you change into your clothes, dries your hair, and rubs your skincare into your face. So delicate. So sweet
There’s something so wonderful about having someone you can confide in, communicate with, and love. Jungkook never judges you; all you have to do is explain how you feel and he’ll indulge you completely. 
-
That doesn’t mean however, that Jungkook can’t be selfish, immature, or childish. 
The night he confessed to you, he told you that he could be all those things, and to be honest, you’ve never really seen it directed towards you. 
When he was a teenager, you saw him get mad at his parents when he was caught smoking for the first time. You were a kid, but you thought that was pretty childish. 
Beyond that, Jungkook has always been chill, more laid back, and normal. 
Not tonight, though. 
“That was childish,” you deadpan from the passenger seat of his car. 
Jungkook reaches over to place his palm on your thigh, to which you swat it away and lean as far as you can into the window. 
Jungkook scoffs, “You’re calling me childish? Out of all people, you’re calling me childish?”
You cross your arms. “I am,” you respond, your voice firm and resolute. 
You both were on your way back from the company party celebrating the merger. The company went all out, hosting the party at a luxury hotel, illuminating the hotel’s grand ballroom with twinkling chandeliers and neon signs displaying the company’s name. 
You arrive as a pair, nothing too conspicuous for the sake of professionalism. You’re wearing a long sleeved dress, with Jungkook in a casual black button up and gray slacks. 
You quickly separated to meet with your respective departments, and when you happened to pass by Jungkook’s department, he went out of his way to greet your coworkers, introducing himself to your department like he’s never seen you before in his life. 
The other men in Jungkook’s department are quite put together. They seem like the type of people Jungkook would work with: young, objectively attractive, tech-nerds. You greet all of them with the same enthusiasm Jungkook greeted your department, knowing that they may be potential wedding guests. 
At the moment, you aren’t quite able to recall their names but he works with six other guys. They didn’t really leave a lasting impression; they were kind, sweet, and polite, nothing out of the ordinary.
Notably, it was Mary– your kind, sweet, amazing 50-year old coworker and work bestie, who brought her son to the party. That was not something you were expecting, mostly because Mary always teased you about becoming her son-in-law, and you always entertained the notion, not expecting that you’d meet the man in person. 
Mary’s son is in his early 30’s, and he is… nice. 
He’s nice, he really is. He’s an intelligent, hard-working man. He takes care of his sweet mother, and for that, he is admirable, but you think there was some miscommunication there, because he is definitely under the impression that you are interested in him in some way, shape, or form, and you feel horrible about it,  because you don’t think Mary knows you were playing around.  
Mary's son leaned in with a charming smile. "So, what do you like to do outside of work?" he inquires, his gaze lingering on you with a subtle hint of interest.
You hesitate for a moment, "Oh, you know, the usual. I enjoy reading and hiking when I have the time," you reply cautiously.
Mary's son nods, his smile widening slightly. "Sounds like we have some common interests. Maybe we could do something together sometime.”
Your heart sinks at the implication of his words, but before you can respond, your big, hot, sexy boyfriend intervenes. Jungkook had his eye on you the entire night– nothing too conspicuous, but he made sure you were always within his field of peripheral vision. 
Jungkook steps in, a champagne glass in hand. He playfully nudges Mary’s son and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading what’s yet to come.
“Must be quite the occasion for you to be hitting on your mom’s coworkers,” he cuts in making you run your hands over your face, “Let me put you on to something else,” he continues, “I mean, you’re a handsome guy, and I know that there’s someone else more suitable for you than a 21 year old, alright bud?” he continues, throwing a casual arm around Mary’s son as he leads him elsewhere. 
Okay, it wasn’t that bad. 
But it was embarrassing. 
Jungkook seemed polite, but his language was more than passive aggressive, and anyone who caught heed to the conversation tangibly felt it.  
“I was literally being nice!” Jungkook rationalizes, his fingers tapping against the driver’s wheel, prompting you to huff in frustration. 
“You should have let me handle it,” you respond, “I was going to turn him down. Next time, don’t do all that, alright?”
“You were not going to handle it,” he retorts, “You were mumbling– baby, you were blushing– definitely entertaining it,” he adds. 
You shake your head, “That was my coworker’s son! If it was any other guy I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I had to be polite.”
“Yea, well, and if it was any other guy, I would’ve beaten the shit out of him so what’s your point?”
“Oh my gosh,” you express, face palming. 
“C’mon baby, he was being totally predatory for hitting on his mom’s coworker,” Jungkook argues, “I didn’t even say anything that bad. Had a nice conversation with the guy.”
“It was childish, Jungkook,” you counter, “The fly on the wall could sense your passive aggression.”
“I’m such a big bad wolf for saving my girlfriend from a situation she was uncomfortable in. Aww,” he mocks a pout, dragging his pointer finger across his face to mimic a tear. 
At that, you can’t help but scoff out laughter. “You’re so stupid,” you muse. 
-
That situation was merely the tip of the iceberg. 
You weren’t that angry; Mary’s son was out of line and it’s not like Jungkook said anything too egregious, but it’s the next day that Jungkook really shows you how immature you can be. 
The following Monday is yours and Jungkook’s first day of work. 
Jungkook is so in love, loves seeing you in a new light. It’s like there’s hearts in your eyes when you “coincidentally” run into each other in the second story printing room, finding the way you work when you’re in professional mode so sexy. 
It’s like he has hearts in his eyes while he leans against the company’s wall, hands in his pockets while his eyes follow you from across the office, loving the way you simply walk around with a stack of paper in your hands. 
That is, until the CEO of the fucking company starts hitting on you. That’s when his smile drops, and he removes his hands from the pockets. He instinctively steps forward to intervene yet again, until he remembers that this is actually work and that he can get both of you fired by doing anything too crazy. 
“Quit your job,” Jungkook instructs the moment you get back to his place, causing you to almost drop your work bag onto the floor. 
Maybe you didn’t hear him properly, “What’d you say?” you ask, taking off your shoes and joining him in the kitchen.
“Quit your job. I’ll help you find another one,” Jungkook suggests, rummaging through the fridge, as if it isn’t the most ridiculous idea you’ve heard in your life. 
“I’m sorry babe. Can you repeat that one more time?”
“Quit your job, Y/N,” Jungkook finishes, slamming the fridge a little too hard. He’s clearly miffed. He’s doing that thing where he tongues the inside of his cheek. His eyebrows are in an angry V, and his chest is heaving up and down— and honestly, the fact that he’s angry calms you a little bit. 
He’s just speaking from emotion, and now you need to be the voice of reason. 
You force a smile, sneaking around to hug him from behind, resting your cheek against his mid-back. 
“And why do you say that, honey? Hm?”
He swivels around, placing his palms on your shoulders. “Y/N, this isn’t funny. The CEO was being creepy as fuck. Turn in your resignation tomorrow, and I’ll start looking for another one. I’ll pay your bills until we can find you another job,” he states.
“C’mon babe,” you start, “the CEO was not being creepy. I’m the youngest at the company. He was just being nice.”
At that, Jungkook’s features scrunch in confusion, detecting any hint of sarcasm on your face. “You really think that?”
“I do.”
Jungkook sighs, “Y/N, rate yourself on a scale from 1-10, on societal standards of beauty. 10 being– like Anok Yai. Where do you stand? Be honest?”
The question is absurd, but you entertain it, putting your fingers on your chin while you genuinely contemplate the assertion. 
“Maybe a 6?-”
“Okay, well, you’re an 11, and every guy feels that way. You don’t know how pretty you are and that’s my fault. I should tell you more, but baby– that’s how pretty you are. The CEO was hitting on you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, so quit your job.”
You stand there, processing his words, and while the sentiment is somewhat touching, you can’t lie and say that you aren’t the least bit upset, especially because you had this conversation about your work a few days ago. 
“No,” is all you say.
“No?” Jungkook challenges.
“No,” you confirm, “I’m not going to quit my job. The CEO hasn’t done anything,” you reason, gesturing with your hands, “If he gets out of line, we can consider reporting him, but I’m not going to quit my job.”
“Okay, fair,” Jungkook says putting his hands up, and you smile, thinking that this conversation is over until he continues. 
“But why would you wait for something bad to happen? Isn’t that totally absurd? I don’t want to wait for it to happen. Let’s play it safe.”
You sigh, “I see what you’re saying, I really do. But I don’t think anything is going to happen. I think you’re overreacting…”
Jungkook pauses, tonguing the inside of his cheek before a sly smile dances across his lips. “Overreacting, huh?”
“Um, yea,” you confirm, “Why would I quit my job? I’d lose all my connections. I mean– this is the only real employment I’ve had. Besides internships, I’d have nothing to put on my resume.”
Jungkook nods, understanding. 
What he really wants to say is “Babe, just quit your job and I’ll make all the money. You’ll never have to work a day in your life and then we’ll retire early and travel the world together with our kids and-”
But that’s totally patronizing, but hey, he can’t help himself if he feels that way. 
“So what do we do, babe? The CEO is in a position of power. I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” Jungkook expresses, his eye twitching. 
What he really wants to say is “I literally saw the CEO’s dick getting hard while he talked to you and if I could, I’d shoot his entire office up-”
But of course, he would never utter the sentiment aloud. 
“If it gets to that, we could report him for sexual harassment,” you ponder.
Jungkook nods in agreement, but you and he both understand the implications of reporting your CEO for something like that. Women always get the short end of the stick. People would probably accuse you of lying, the CEO would leverage his resources to legally ruin you, and you both could lose your job security. 
Jungkook doesn’t want to even let it get to that point, and he’s trying his best to respect your autonomy, but it bothers him, it really does. 
He inhales deeply, finding peace in the way your fingertips dance under his skirt, caressing his abs before you pull him in for a hug. “Nothing is going to happen, baby,” you comfort, “Everything will be alright, I promise.”
-
Indeed, everything is not alright, because the CEO repeatedly calls you into his office for some inconspicuous reasons, and you’re suddenly starting to understand where Jungkook is coming from. 
Your only solace is that Jungkook is around the corner. Today, he’s wearing a suit and tie, his wire-framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks exceptionally sexy today, his long legs accentuated by his suit and his hair swept back to show his sexy forehead.
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You put your phone down, looking up right when the elevator doors open to reveal a handsome, suit-clad Jungkook. 
“Hello Mr. Jeon,” you express, a smile dancing on your lips when you bow to him and saunter into the elevator. 
“Hello Ms. L/N,” Jungkook responds matter-a-factly, pushing up his glasses on his nose, “Strange running you into here.”
You bite back a giggle, “Yea, that is indeed strange. How is work for you, sir?”
“Oh work’s alright. The team is-”
And just like that your lips are on his, and he’s devouring you completely. Your legs wrap around his waist as he hoists you up, pressing you against the elevator doors as he sloppily and messily kisses you. Tongue in your mouth, teeth clashing, his groin grinds against the area between your thighs, inducing you to moan into his mouth while Jungkook continues licking into you and–
Ding! The elevator dings and you and Jungkook instantly scramble apart, resulting in you running to the other side of the elevator, smoothing out your skirt while you catch your breath. You cough, hand coming at ease in front of you while you stare at the floor. Jungkook behaves similarly, pushing up his glasses while he clears his throat and straightens his tie. 
A second later, the elevator doors open, and more office workers pool in. You and Jungkook greet them politely, feigning innocence and ignorance. 
The next day, something similar transpires. 
You’re wearing a long, red skirt, a white blouse, and you have a white ribbon in your hair. You love work because it grants you opportunities to put together cute, modest outfits, and apparently, Jungkook likes it too, because you always catch him looking. 
He checks you out quite noticeably, his eyes shamelessly scanning up and down your frame as he bites his lips. Your cheeks flush, and you take a moment before you sheepishly step into the elevator. 
“H-hello, Mr. Jeon,” you greet.
“Hi Ms. Y/N. How are negotiations with your new client going?” he asks, adjusting his tie. 
“They’re going great, sir-”
And like that, he closes the distance, cradling your jaw before leaning in for a kiss. His hands salaciously trail down to your behind, giving it a light squeeze, causing you to gasp in his mouth. He takes that as an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as your tongues rub against each other and-
Ding!
Once again, you scramble apart, separating towards each end of the elevator, recomposing yourselves while more people pool in. 
Not a soul would know what really transpires in the elevator everyday at 3:00 PM. 
-
Unless there were cameras in the elevator. 
Which there were. 
Which is crazy because of course there are cameras in the elevator, and quite honestly, you and Jungkook were probably aware of that in the back of your minds, but who cares? Making out with him everyday in the elevator at 3:00 PM is hot and it’s what gets you through the work day (until 3 PM)
You and Jungkook get Cc'd the same email from HR. 
Dear Employees, I hope this email finds you well. We need to discuss an incident observed via security cameras in the elevator involving two employees engaging in intimate behavior. This is a violation of company policies on workplace conduct. Please attend a meeting with HR to address this matter.
Oh shit. 
You and Jungkook wait outside the conference room to talk to the HR. You blink at each other, and honestly you want to burst into giggles, but the conference room is made of glass and you aren’t really sure who’s watching. 
The HR Manager, a tall lanky man, steps from the office and invites you in. 
The meeting isn’t awkward at all— in fact, it’s more straight to the point. Essentially, the HR manager says something along the lines of “You’re free to date in the office, but no PDA. We don’t encourage dating because we want our employees to focus on work. I know you guys are amongst the youngest in the office, so if you want to do–erm— that, then you can go somewhere else during lunch.”
Both you and Jungkook profusely apologize, promise it won’t happen again, and then are off on your ways. 
Funnily enough, the CEO stopped approaching you and calling you to his office so yea, neither of you quit your jobs, and Jungkook was overreacting, a little bit. 
-
Now, the real question remains. 
How do your friends feel about your relationship with Jungkook?
They want to see you happy, always, so that aspect brings them joy, but it’s important to address how things change. 
Before, Jungkook was the unattainable, hotter, older man that all your friends told you to get a grip over because there was just no way he’d ever reciprocate your feelings. But now, things are different. 
If Jungkook is your boyfriend, that means he’s your equal… so if your friends are your equal, does that mean Jungkook is equal to your friends? It’s just the transitive property of equality. If a = b, and b = c, then a =c. 
But that’s weird. 
You know you shouldn’t be making a big deal of it, but your friends are like little piggies and Jungkook is the wolf. There’s no way all of you could hang out at the same time without it being weird, because every time Jungkook has interacted with your friends in the past, it’s always been in a big brotherly way, not a friend way. 
On top of that, Jungkook has never officially met Heeseung or Sunghoon, and he is very much aware that Sunghoon was interested (and potentially still could be) in you, which is probably why you all are sitting around the sushi table in awkward silence. 
Soobin is hyperfocused on his the wrapper of his chopsticks, Beomgyu is repeatedly dipping his chopsticks into the Miso soup to lick at, Yunjin already excused herself to the restroom, and Heeseung is just staring at Jungkook in awe, which is understandable, because your boyfriend looks exceptionally handsome today. 
Yeonjun is probably the only one who can carry the conversation, mostly because he’s the most closely acquainted with Jungkook and his family.
You elbow Yeonjun softly and he clears his throat, “So, um– Jungkook. Does your family still think Y/N and I are together? Or have you already told them that you’re dating?”
Soobin finally says something, “Wait, why would Jungkook’s family think that you and Y/N are dating?”
“Just because I brought him to a couple family events, and they got the wrong idea,” you respond, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“We haven’t let them know yet,” Jungkook answers, stretching out his upper body, “I don’t think that conversation will go over smoothly because of the… age difference.”
Yeonjun nods, understanding, “Yea, and your little cousin might be upset about it too,” he adds. 
“Oh yea,” Jungkook smiles, addressing the table, “My little cousin is six years old and he’s got the biggest crush on Y/N. He probably won’t talk to me for a year once he finds out,” Jungkook says with a light laugh. 
Oh my gosh. This is so awkward. You inwardly cringe, but leave it to Beomgyu to ease the atmosphere. 
“It’s alright,” Beomgyu adds, “If you didn’t want her, Y/N would have just waited for your cousin to grow up cause at least the cousin likes her-”
You reach over the table to swat at his bicep. 
At that moment, the side dishes arrive: perilla leaves, radish kimchi, steamed egg, pickled cucumbers, and spicy bean sprouts.
Thank goodness the food is here, you think, even if it’s just side dishes. Yunjin returns from the restroom, seemingly renewed as she takes the space between you and Yeonjun, and she starts talking. 
“You know, Jungkook,” she starts, “Y/N really loves you. I, for one, am happy that you’re together. She’s been non-stop talking about you since high school. She showed up at my house crying when she heard you were bringing your girlfriend to Thanksgiving-”
You nudge Yunjin, a nonverbal cue to tell her to shut up. 
Jungkook awkwardly laughs, “Yea, I know Y/N had a crush on me when she was younger but I didn’t realize until a couple years ago… Anyways, Y/N’s not the same person she was when she was a high schooler. I fell in love with her after she turned 19, of course.”
“But isn’t that still a problem?” Sunghoon challenges, and your face almost drops. 
You know where this is going. 
“You knew her since she was a little kid, so isn’t it kinda weird for you to date her?” he asks. The question is innocent, and it’s a valid question, but you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of Jungkook’s answer. 
“Some would say that,” Jungkook responds, “But our relationship isn’t about who she was. It doesn’t matter to me that she had a crush on me when she was younger, it’s about who she is now, and I love her as she is,” he finishes with a smile. 
Sunghoon nods, “That makes sense,” he shrugs. At that moment, you use your chopsticks to pick up the perilla leaves, which are, of course, stuck together. Sunghoon casually reaches out with his chopsticks, separating the leaves and plopping one into his mouth. 
You freeze, and you do what you should, placing the perilla leaf over Jungkook’s bowl of rice, and he almost immediately uses his spoon to swallow the perilla leave along with a spoonful of rice. 
No one seems to notice, and the conversation continues. 
“So what’s it like working with your girlfriend?” Heeseung asks casually, and the conversation continues, taking an upward trajectory, the atmosphere finally settling down. 
-
“He still likes you, Y/N,” Jungkook says matter-a-factly, hanging up his coat in his closet while you take off your shoes by the front door. 
You tilt your head, genuinely confused, “Who?”
“Sunghoon.”
You shake your head, dismissing the notion, “No, that was in the past. I heard he has a girlfriend now.” 
You join Jungkook in his bedroom and he’s staring at you incredulously. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks, causing you to scoff, “Of course I am!” you retaliate, “He’s over me. I turned him down straight up; I didn’t even entertain his feelings for me. I told him I was in love  with you, remember?”
Jungkook's expression softens, and he takes a seat on his bed, “I know baby, but I’m just saying that he still likes you. Remember what I said?-”
“About me being an 11?” you question, amused, “Yea, nobody thinks that except for you,” you confirm with a nod, taking a seat on his lap when he opens his arms for you. 
Jungkook shakes his head, “I’m not saying it’s anything bad, and I’m not saying I don’t trust you, but I just want you to know that he still likes you. He even tried to give you an indirect kiss,” he says, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.
You raise a brow at him, giggling at the tickling sensation of his lips ghosting across the sensitive areas of your neck, “An indirect kiss?”
“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, “An indirect kiss– the perilla leaf?”
You shake your head. You immediately recall a stupid conversation Jungkook had with his friends. “They peel off one perilla leaf, next thing you know, they’re holding hands, and fall in love, and they end up getting married!” is what he said, causing his friends to roll their eyes. 
You place a chaste kiss on his lips, “You’re stupid,” you giggle. 
He looks at you knowingly. Jungkook isn’t per se, worried about you and Sunghoon. He knows Sunghoon’s a respectful enough kid to not make a move, and he trusts you with his entire heart, soul, and being. He just wants you to know that Sunghoon most likely still harbors something for you.  
Of course he would. Like Jungkook said, you’re an 11. 
-
The delicacy of his feelings for you seeps into everything he does, especially when you’re sick. 
Nestled with your head cradled in the curve of his arm, he gently massages your temples with his right hand, ensuring the damp cloth on your forehead remains refreshingly cool, soothing your feverish brow.
You're drifting into slumber, your eyes half-closed as you softly shift against his embrace. With him around, with his fingers assuaging the ache in your temples,  you finally feel safe enough, protected enough to lose yourself in your own vulnerability and drift into dreamland. 
Later that day, you wake up with Jungkook right by your side. His eyes are on the TV and when he hears your soft mumbles, he welcomes you back to Earth. 
“Kiss me please,” comes out in a soft whimper. You’re barely coherent and you’re asking for a kiss? That’s the cutest fucking thing on the history of the Earth, and Jungkook’s heart clenches. You’re so sweet, so precious, and he’ll gladly oblige. 
He pulls you onto him so you’re lying directly onto him, your boobs pressed against his chest and your stomach pressed against his.
He kisses you sweetly, indulging you completely while your tongues intertwine, and he sighs into your mouth blissfully. 
At that moment, you hear the sound of a thud hitting the floor. You and Jungkook whip your heads towards the sound– it’s his parents. 
“J-Jeon Jungkook! What do you think you’re doing?!” his mother shrieks.
-
416 notes · View notes
specialagentlokitty · 19 hours
Text
Aizawa x reader - even after months apart
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You stood in front of the hero commission, a heavy heart in your head, but a blank look on your face as you stare at them.
“So you want me to infiltrate a gang of villains, and gather as much information as you need?”
One of the men nods, clasping his hands together.
“Yes, with your quirk, your heightened sense you are the perfect candidate for the job, we need to know everything regardless of how small it may seem.”
You nod again, looking down at the engagement ring on your finger before looking back up at the ground who had gathered in front of you.
You didn’t exactly have a choice in this, these people controlled your whole career, and if you didn’t thousands of people could be hurt.
“What about my family…? Friends…?”
Someone else sighs and she speaks up.
“They’ll be told that you went missing on a mission, which means we’re going to need your ring, and your phone.”
You hand over your phone, and hesitate to hand over your ring, and they were patient while waiting.
After what felt like forever, you slowly slide it front your hand, pressing a kiss to it, whispering a quick sorry before handing it over to start your uncover mission.
It was going to be long, dreadful, and it would take a while to earn the villains trust before you could start gaining valuable information that’ll help the other heroes when the time comes.
Every night you would sit on your bed in the room they had eventually given you, just staring up at up at the ceiling, thinking about the man you loved.
The man you left behind so you could do this.
The same thoughts always rushing around your mind.
Would he be okay?
Would he be safe?
Is he still looking for you?
Has he moved on?
Will he hate you if this all ends?
Would he still love you?
Would he forgive you?
You sigh, burying your face into the capture scarf of his that you had managed to take from the apartment months ago before you left for this mission.
He didn’t use this one anymore, it was ripped and had some holes, but it still smelt like him, reminded you off him and brought you comfort.
With another sigh, you sit up and cross your legs as you close your eyes, focusing on your hearing while you activated your quirk.
You listened to everything going on around the villains base, moving from sound to sound to find anything that could be of use to the hero commission.
Sometimes you would linger on a conversation to just listen to what villains spoke about when they weren’t committing crimes before you moved on after a few minutes.
Everything of interest you heard you would pick up a book and underline certain words.
More months slipped by, and you dropped the book off in a post office with an address written on it, before going back to the villains base.
They only send you out on small run missions, dropping things off at the post office, each time you changed the address to the hero commissions office.
On the way back you grabbed a new book, and carried on walking down the street with your hood up.
“Stop walking now.” A cold voice demanded.
Your whole body tensed up, and you stopped, recognising the voice.
He was standing in an alleyway just behind you.
“So this is what you’ve been doing? Hiding?” He snapped.
“Shouta please….” You whispered.
“You just disappear without a trace, leave your engagement ring with the hero commission without saying a single word. Is that really how much how relationship was worth to you?” He asked lowly.
You sigh a little bit, keeping your gaze turned towards the ground.
“No….”
“Then what the hell was it?!” He snapped quietly.
You let out a heavy sigh again.
“I think about you every night…” you whisper.
Aizawa carefully looks at you, you wouldn’t even turn to look at him.
“I just… I pray that after all this ends I still have a place inside your heart…. When you see what I’ve become I just… I want to know if you’ll love me for who I am…”
You take a small breath.
“I’ll be back some day… I just hope when that day comes you won’t hate me…”
With that, you slipped into the crowds before he could even think about saying something else to you.
That was all you saw off him, and even then you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, you felt so ashamed for hurting him the way you had, breaking his trust, leaving him alone.
The mission went on for a few more months before everything was in place for the heroes to move in, and you were immediately taken back to the hero commission and here you spent hours in and out of meetings.
When they were all finished, you stepped outside of the building into the morning sun and took a small breath, looking around.
Your phone was dead, and had been for months, you weren’t sure about going back to the shared apartment, you didn’t even know if Aizawa would even still be there, so you headed to a hotel instead and booked a room for the week.
Getting a shower, you went back out to buy some clean clothes and a charger and went back to the hotel room for sleep and to charge your phone.
What woke you up a knocking on your hotel room door, and with a grumble you got up and walked over to answer it.
“Room service…?” You asked half asleep.
“Guess again.” A gruff voice spoke.
You stared at Aizawa half asleep, and stepped aside to let him in.
“I’m too tired to argue with you right now…”
You walked back over to the bed and laid down, resting your head in your arms as you laid on your stomach.
Aizawa closed the door and walked over, standing at the end of the bed.
He just stared at you with narrowed eyes, and his gaze slowly moved to a few scars on your arms.
He knew you, he knew your body, and he knew that before you just up and left you never had those scars.
He slowly walked over, sitting on the edge of bed, carefully leaning over slightly, getting a better look at them.
“What the hell happened while you were away…?” He whispered.
You just grumbled, still exhausted and rolled on your side with your back to him, your shirt rose up, and he could see a few smaller scars on your lower back and he looked to the bottom of your shirt, slowly reaching out.
Within an instant you grabbed his wrist, now sitting up and looking at him with a warning look.
“Shouta don’t….”
“(Y/N) what the hell happened…? What have you been doing all these months…?”
You took a deep breath, loosening your grip on his wrist but not fully letting go as you looked away.
“I can’t tell you… I’m sorry…”
He nodded, he had a feeling it was something to do with the mission he was sent on with a lot of other heroes to a group of villains base, but he wouldn’t push you to talk about it.
Aizawa sighed gently
He glanced to his scarf that you had taken which was sat on a chair in the corner of the room, then back to you.
“I’m sorry for everything…. For leaving you the way I did… if I could go back and change it I would…”
“I think I understand… but I just… I wish you would have reached out (Y/N) to tell me you were okay… that you were alive…”
You looked away, and he slowly pulled his hand back until his palm was pressed against yours, and he slowly laced his fingers with yours.
You still couldn’t meet his gaze, and his face softened.
“Hey… hey look at me…”
You raised your gaze to meet his, and he brought the back of your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.
“Whatever happened then.. you’re safe… now come home?”
“You… want me to come back…?”
Aizawa rolled his eyes, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head.
“Yes, the bed is empty without you and I can’t find anything, come home.”
This made you laugh a little bit, and you grabbed what you had to go back to the apartment with him.
The moment you were through the door Aizawa placed his hands on the sides of your face, gently leaning down to kiss you.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds and he dug through his pockets before finally pulling out your engagement ring, putting it back on your ring finger before kissing it.
“Mine…” he mumbled.
He rested his chin on your head, still holding your hands in his, and you closed your eyes in content.
This was all you wanted, to be back here with him, to be back with your future husband knowing you were safe and loved
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angstywaifu · 2 days
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The Lost Sister - Part 26
Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.
Garrick Tavis x OC The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist
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”You can do what now?” Xaden nearly yells after getting over his shock.
I can mind speak. I say confidently in his head, causing him to jump back a bit, earning chuckles from Liam and Garrick.
I had spent the afternoon practicing on them. Jumping between their minds with ease, as if already second nature to me. All I had to do was focus on them and it seemed my mind connected with theirs. Only proven by how easily I had reached out and done the same to Xaden. I was also quite proud of the name I had given the ability. Direct and explained it perfectly.
”Does Carr know?” He demands as he starts to pace.
I shake my head. “No, this happened after I left. He only seemed intent on seeing if my signet blocked out other mental signets. And I can now safely say Dain’s signet did not work on me at all. And that was without me trying to put a shield up. But that doesn’t mean its not something he knows about. Seems there are tomes that have spoken of my ability somewhere.”
Xaden looks as if he breathes a sigh of relief. I would have said it was in regards to my mind being safe from Dain, but I can feel something else fuelling his relief. But what that was, I wasn’t sure. With how much he had going on I had no doubt there was others higher up with signets I was now safe from.
”I assume you tried to put a shield up?” Bodhi asks from where he is perched up against some stacked fighting mats.
I smirk and nod. “I did, sent Aetos jumping back from me as if I had electrocuted him. Was quite satisfying actually.”
”Well that is something at least. Now we just have to be careful of ourselves around Dain. Sadly our shields will not work against his like yours has.” Xaden states as he stops his pacing and stands next to Bodhi.
”I take it you’ve tried?” I ask him.
Xaden nods. “Not myself, but we have tested the theory with other cadets with stronger shields. He gets right through them like a knife through butter. So the fact he could barely make a dent in yours without even trying just goes to show how strong yours are.”
”You said Carr mentioned tomes about your signet. He let slip what they were at all?” Garrick asks from where he sits next to me, arm draped over my shoulders as I sit tucked into his sides.
I shake my head. “Sadly no. But least we know there are some. As well as fairy tales and stories of it. It’s a starting point.”
The others nod in agreement. The slip of that information, intentional or not was at least a starting point. One that had me thinking of where to start. And I knew exactly where to start. And none of these guys would be overly keen on my suggestion. But I had a feeling we could trust her. With time and how closer her and Xaden we’re getting despite him saying other wise, she could be a great asset.
”And I might have a suggestion on where we can start.” The others all turning to look at me.
”Why do I feel like we aren’t going to like your suggestion sweetheart?” Garrick drawls from next to me.
I look up at him and smirk. “Because you wont. Not entirely anyway.”
”Spit it out then. Where do we have to look?” Imogen asks.
I turn and look at Xaden, his eyes widening as if already knowing my answer.
”Not where. Who. And who better than my brothers new partner in crime for life. Violet Sorrengail.”
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Xaden had not been thrilled by suggestion, but had agreed she was our best bet once we could verify she wouldn’t go tell someone about my signet. Though as I had pointed out, there was a very high chance she knew about Dain’s and as far as I knew hadn’t told anyone about it, even with how distant they had become while she had been here. He promised once he was sure my signet was safe, he would approach her about it. But only him.
”Aetos did not want to let you two go did he?” Garrick muses as we walk up to the flight field.
Garrick and Xaden had come to grab Violet and I for some training. Not that I needed it, but I took the excuse to get out of classes for a little bit. Aetos had put Garrick and Xaden through the wringer to let us go. Mainly Violet who was yet to manifest a signet. Claiming she needed Carr’s class more than anyone. But as Xaden had countered she wasn’t going to manifest a signet suddenly in Carr’s class and had proven she had the strongest shield in our year. I did not miss how Dain’s eyes flickered to me at that comment. He knew mine were significantly stronger that Violets. But it wasn’t public knowledge. Violet had proven she had mastered the basics and Xaden had dragged her out before he could say no. He had tried to fight it with me saying signet needed training. But as I pointed out I had a classified signet and was not allowed to fully show it off in classes. And with that I had turned and walked out, a snickering Garrick not far behind me. Which now lead to us heading down to the flight field to catch up with Xaden and Violet who definitely had a head start with only having to go to the first year doors three levels down. Due to Garrick insisting I move my stuff, we had to go all the way up to the third floor.
”No he didn’t. He’s just worried we wont win squad games. He is hell bent on winning it.” I inform Garrick as we push through the doors into the rotunda.
”You guys will be fine. Between you and Liam you should have the combat challenges and that hands down. Sadly I can’t speak about the other aspects.” The way he speaks, I know he knows what is coming. Wing leaders and section leaders knew everything to do with squad games as they didn’t take part as they didn’t technically belong to a squad.
”Don’t get any privileges, from being your kind of girlfriend?” I tease as we approach the stairs.
Garrick smirks and goes to respond, but his face goes blank as he pulls us both to a stop, his arm going in front of my protectively. I follow his gaze and watch as Colonel Aetos, General Sorrengail and Pancheck approach us.
”We’re getting the grand welcome today it seems.” Muses Colonel Aetos as they stop in front of us. My guess is they had encountered Xaden and Violet on their way up. “And I finally get to meet Fen Riorson’s daughter. Well know you by your actual name now. It still amazes me you hid her for long General, none of us had a clue who she really was.”
Colonel Aetos’s eyes look behind Garrick and I, and I know instantly who stands behind us. That familiar, black unhinged presence at the edge of my mind. Garrick going stiff as he angles his head ever so slightly to see who stands behind us. The muscle in his jaw twitching, eyes darting between the group in front of us and the General behind.
”Trust me Colonel, was no easy feat keeping who she was a secret from you. Surprised you believed me so easily when I introduced her as my niece.” Melgren drawls from behind us.
”Helps when she barely looks like her father and brother. And if I recall, not much like the women Fen called his wife for a short period of time either.” A small smirk on the Colonel’s face.
”Must have taken after some distant relatives.” I say sternly.
He just chuckles. “Some very distant relatives it seems. Well don’t let us hold you up cadets.”
And with that they walk past us, but I don’t miss the feeling of their eyes on us as they walk away. Mainly Melgren and Aetos, who as I turn my head catch looking directly at me. Clearly I was also on someone else’s radar, but for other reasons entirely.
@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books
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lilbittymonster · 11 months
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Lately I've been thinking about how I've stopped abbreviating Kitali's name when I talk about her and how now all of a sudden I have people who I don't know calling her 'Kit' in game and how names have levels of intimacy attached to them and I'm feeling some sort of way about it. Both in and out of character.
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57sfinest · 1 year
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what do you think the best case scenario is for jean and harry's relationship post-martinaise?
okay so not to be Like That but i do have one fic up about this with another one currently in the works
but anyway. obviously their relationship is never going to go back to the way it was. there was just SO MUCH between them that they have no hope of restoring with harry's amnesia, and also jean knows rationally that things shouldn't ever be the way they were again. it's not like they were ever supposed to be that way anyway.
in the best-case, i think it takes MONTHS for them to even start to bridge the gap, and harry has to initiate it. jean is done being the one reaching out, being the fixer, overlooking things. IF harry wants him back, as a friend or anything else- and secretly jean wants him to want him back, but he'll never admit that- he has to take the first steps and do the work. so first harry has to put in the work to recover (if harry kept using drugs, i don't think jean would care, but he'd have to kick the alcohol) and then harry has to put in the personal work and learn how to communicate properly and respect boundaries. even when he starts trying i think jean pushes back for a while and harry has to take his turn being the bigger person and let jean complain or shut him down or whatever and not bitch about it or start a fight, because that will just push jean away more.
best-case is that harry passes these little trials of jean's, and they finally sit down and have an actual conversation about everything and clear the air. i don't think it's a pretty conversation, but they (jean mostly) says a lot of things that have needed to be said for a long time. assuming this goes to jean's satisfaction i think they agree- harry gets ONE more chance to stay on jean's good side.
buffered by the few months of jean REALLY hating harry and resenting him and being jealous of his second chance and all that, i think a friendship between them has a better chance to be healthy at this point. harry is ostensibly working on his shitty habits and behaviors, and now harry probably has kim (and possibly others) to talk to, which takes a lot of the burden off jean, because imo one of the biggest issues harry and jean had was a lack of distance. they just couldn't get away from each other, and ended up not wanting to. so now they have an opportunity to keep a healthy buffer and *choose* to engage, which also allows them to step away from one another if things get heated. yes, they'll definitely still clash sometimes, but it's a lot easier to deal with when they can just agree to leave the argument there and not speak until they've gotten over themselves.
the best-case requires harry to do a lot of personal work but assuming he does do it, i do think he and jean could go back to being friends. their new relationship would definitely start off very rocky and tentative- mostly harry is afraid to ruin it again- but given enough time i think harry proves it's for real this time and they can come to actually trust each other and be comfortable around one another.
#there's a lot of capacity for hurt in that first year or so of their new attempt at friendship#no matter what jean just can't get the old harry out of his head#like harry has some kind of crisis and jean's instinct is still 'he's doing this for attention :/'#jean is still in this mindset of 'fuck harry he hurt me so i can hurt him back' and it takes a lot to get him out of it#he's not super comfortable being a shoulder for harry to cry on for a while because he's just holding his breath#waiting for the other shoe to drop. for months he doesn't believe harry is capable of getting better#and he's justified given harry's old attitude but like. post-amnesia harry is a different person#and he can't come to terms with that right away#once harrys earned trust back though theyre menaces.#harry holding jean in the most annoying bear hug on earth like#'hi everyone this is my beeest friend jean he loves me soooooooo much he'd never say anything mean to me'#jean pinches harry as hard as he possibly can like 'let go of me i fucking hate you. fucking moron'#then they go get dinner#thats a minor hc of mine. in their repaired friendship jean stays playfully aggressive towards harry a lot#but harry feels he needs to be a little more careful so doesn't do that much. although he does taunt jean a lot regardless#kiwipost#ACTIVATING MY MENTAL ILLNESS!!!#harry: this is my bestie jean. i made him a friendship bracelet but threw it in the trash#jean: this is my rescue dog harry. i don't kick him as much these days even though i really want to#(they are best friends. jean won't say so)#jean vicquemare#harry du bois#ask#jv meta#hdb meta
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artekai · 2 years
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Well. Now I need an excuse to put Sylens and Fross alone together and give them a common goal :/
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader
work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.
Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.
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I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.
He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.
This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.
Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.
Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.
John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.
Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.
And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.
Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.
Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.
Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.
Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.
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anteomnia · 5 months
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just endlessly thinking about blue eye samurai.
thinking about how akemi, taigen, and mizu are if a coin had three sides or maybe just the two and mizu is the bridge of metal between them.
akemi being the ideal image for women, for the life they endure. she was simultaneously a princess, a prostitute, and a prisoner. her entire life was men making decisions for her, even the ones that had good intentions, and she believed her deepest desire was freedom. it still is, but she has been revealed to this heinous predicament of her gender, and she’s realized that to reach true freedom as a woman is to be the bird in the cage, to play nice and to earn the love of a man until he buys her a bigger cage and a bigger cage until he trusts her not to fly away. and it'll never be true freedom, but it will come with power. it'll come with the freedom of only one master rather than many.
taigen being the ideal image of a man. not all powerful, but not weak. he had a taste of what it'd be to succeed, and when it was taken from him, that easy success, he mistook it for his honor. he hunted mizu down to kill him, and instead he saved him. he saved him and saved him and he came closer to killing mizu when they were on the cliff's edge, and just when he gets to the point where he may actually fight mizu, he's tortured for information on him. he is tortured. Literally tortured within an inch of his life, enduring such a heinous violence, and he refuses to break. this man was a fight, was the torturer, and the victim of his torturing could've been his salvation from pain but he refused. mizu gave back taigen's honor but not by fighting him.
akemi wanted freedom and learned she would need power to have it.
taigen wanted power and learned that the violence that came with it was infinite and dishonorable.
and then there's mizu. mizu who wants revenge, wants acceptance. arguably the same things as them both. mizu wants acceptance, the freedom of living and the freedom to love and be loved. mizu wants revenge, which follows after violence and power, to get said acceptance. she thinks she must do both, have both, to live peacefully, and she's blatant about how she will not live without either.
she's given acceptance with the blacksmith, her "mother," her husband, but she sees the flecks of avoidance in it.
the blacksmith will not hear of her true gender. her "mother" will not acknowledge the crime of her birth. her husband can't find tolerance for the violence within her, the man of her.
and so she has to balance the woman and man of her, the ronin and the bride. taigen and akemi. and it's meeting mizu that they start to unravel their own identities.
mizu, who is both, and akemi and taigen who thought themselves one but turned out to be neither.
god.
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amysubmits · 6 months
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Owning Me Is Complicated
Occasionally I come across content that makes it seem like being a Dom is easy.
Order her around, make her do the things you don't want to do, do whatever you want, "win" all the disagreements because you're the dom - or even silence her from disagreeing with you to begin with. Get sex exactly how you want it, exactly when you want it. She's just a living, breathing object that can and will do whatever you want. She has no needs other than to make your life easier. She's your own personal robot, but with a body you want to fuck. Being a dom is like a regular relationship but without the emotional labor. I'm sure there are other gender versions out there too, but I see the M/f version most often. It's so funny to me how absurd that all is compared to real life.
Owning me is complicated. Owning me means doing way more emotional labor than a vanilla relationship would require, not less.
Yes, I do what he says - but he's responsible for making the best decisions he can. He's in charge, so keeping me physically and emotionally safe is his responsibility. It's a huge part of how he earns my submission. It's no small thing to make decisions when making them well is part of how he keeps me safe and keeps me open and trusting towards him. Yes, I'll try to push my sexual limits for him - but I have complex emotional needs that accompany physical intimacy. Use my body without having respect for my physical and mental health and it'll fall apart real quick. And once again, making a reckless decision here that would leave me damaged and could forever damage our dynamic. Sure, he can take his cock out anytime and instruct me to suck and I will, but that doesn't mean it's all fun and games. He has the burden of double and triple checking that he isn't pushing me too far, or taking too much as to leave me empty. Yes, he gets the final say in disagreements, but he earns that by hearing me out. He couldn't keep me submissive if he didn't respect my feelings. I can't feel respected if I'm not heard. So he has to hear me out and really listen. And then his job is to attempt to get the best outcome for both of us. He has to try to balance our needs, because if either of us gets neglected, we individually suffer and then the relationship suffers. So he sometimes deals with the weight of threading the needle between his needs and mine, his wants and mine. His shoulders carry the weight of those choices. Yes, he can deny my wishes - and even my needs for a time, if he chose. But I am human. How long can he deny me things that bring me pleasure before I start to feel unwanted, unloved, disrespected, thrown out? Resentment would set in eventually. Self-protection would kick in eventually...and it might be too late by then, the damage may be done by the time I would wake up to look around and decide I didn't want to live like this anymore. Why would he want to even find out, given that he loves me? He wouldn't. He has a sadistic streak, so he likes to deny me things I like so that I long for them even more for a while. He likes to see me eager, desperate to get it when he decides to give it. He likes to watch me tolerate discomfort for him. Playing with these ideas require a deep understanding of my needs and limits. He has to know where "desperate for you 🥺 " starts to fade and "That goblin in the back of my head is starting to worry I'm not valued" starts to enter my thoughts. Yes, I look to him to guide and lead, and he has a lot of power and control - but that comes with the ability to destroy and damage. There's nothing easy about ownership if you feel the weight of the responsibility you're carrying.
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calder · 3 months
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In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.
Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.
Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.
The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.
There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?
In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.
There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.
Lastly, please consider the following developer context.
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In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.
River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.
He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:
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-Joel Burgess
Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.
The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.
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cupids-chamber · 27 days
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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .
— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡
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The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 
He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 
Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 
Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”
Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 
“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.
Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 
"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 
"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 
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Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter
♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?
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— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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pallastrology · 9 months
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the midheaven and imum coeli
aries on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards independence. they are natural hunters, relentless in their pursuit of their goals. they often have a reputation for having authority issues, and this can be true, they don’t cope well with working under the boot of other people, but they aren’t difficult to work with in general; when given the opportunity to work with someone they can build a strong connection with and when given a common, meaningful goal, aries midheavens are wonderful team members and are encouraging, passionate and energetic. with the midheaven in aries the lower heaven is in libra, and that’s where we see that slightly uncharacteristic talent for working in partnerships. growing up, the natives may have lived in a household where everything had to look perfect, where there were poor boundaries and avoidance and comfort-seeking from caregivers, rather than firm but fair treatment. the native had to grow up quickly and is very much a self-made individual now, but in some ways, they can feel stunted, like they’re stuck developmentally. they need to learn to uphold boundaries without becoming militant, to work with others while still supporting and encouraging themselves, to stay connected to the people that matter while they chase their prey.
taurus on the midheaven brings a desire for security. the native is artistic, stoic and determined. they don’t necessarily want fortune and fame, but they want to be valued and respected. they aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or put in long hours and hard work to get to where they’re aiming for. their career paths can sometimes look more erratic than you’d expect for an earth placement, and this is because taurus midheavens often have issues with under - or over - valuing themselves, taking on meaningless work because they feel they haven’t earned better, or refusing opportunities out of stubbornness or a feeling of being out of their league. they work well with others when they are given time and patience, because these natives often have trust issues and can’t open up easily. with the midheaven in taurus the lower heaven is in scorpio, and a lot starts to make sense. they often grew up in homes with intense emotions and little in the way of healthy outlets or communication, homes where distance and mistrust was the norm. secrets were often kept and love may have been treated as a resource to guard fiercely and rarely give away. as an adult, the native has to come to terms with these early experiences and understand that we all have inherent worth, and are all deserving of unconditional love; it isn’t a thing to be earned, it’s within us all and can - should - be shared freely.
with gemini on the midheaven, the native aspires towards connection. they are adaptable, expressive, creative thinkers, who are quick to ask questions and quicker to learn. they have a strong desire to fly the nest and discover some of the world for themselves, and they usually do just this. the native can sometimes struggle to focus; they have a tendency to spread themselves too thin and get overwhelmed. they can be rather insecure, lacking faith in themselves and their abilities at times. this is often down to their upbringing. as a gemini midheaven, they have the lower heaven in sagittarius, which can indicate that they felt alone a lot growing up. perhaps their caregivers were very busy people, or they struggled to make friends, or were ostracised in some way. they may have felt like an outsider as a child, and so relied on their hobbies and dreams to sustain them when other people couldn’t. as an adult, gemini midheavens are a little anxious, quick to doubt themselves, but quick to seek out connections too; whether social or developmental. they would suit a life path that involves flexibility, a fast pace, multiple routes to progression and the chance to experience many kinds of people. however, they do need to stay still sometimes and listen to themselves. they may feel inferior at times, but they can learn a lot from themselves if they open their hearts.
cancer on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards comfort. they are highly attuned creatures, sensitive to others’ emotions and needs without them needing to say a word. the native is naturally maternal, not necessarily in the sense of wanting children, but in that they have a lot of care and love to give to whom they choose. they are traditionally well-suited to a career in the public eye, as this nurturing quality reflects well on others. the intensity of their life will often ebb and flow quite dramatically, even as far as water signs go. they need periods off to just rest and return to themselves, or they burn out terribly. with cancer on the midheaven, capricorn is on the lower heaven. growing up, the home was often a cold and clinical place, not one where emotional connections were the norm. as a result, the native, often subconsciously - as is the nature of water signs - goes through life searching for the warmth and comfort they needed as a child. they can become dependent on loved ones, or go the other way and give everything to these loved ones without getting an ounce back. it can be really helpful for them to research reparenting and go through life with the concept in their mind’s eye.
leo on the midheaven brings a desire for adoration. they may aspire to be seen as a star in their chosen field, though, honest as they are, only want this reputation if they can back it up. they are deeply passionate people, who work and play hard. their creativity and generosity will take them far in life, if they can learn to accurately identify and work on their flaws. at times they can be stubborn, and this is both good and bad for them. they are driven and determined, but often lack self-belief and rely heavily on loved ones to encourage and praise them when things get hard. with leo on the midheaven, we find aquarius on the lower heaven, and so we learn a little more. the native’s childhood was often quite a lonely one. whether that’s through an unconventional upbringing, emotionally distant caregivers or living somewhere isolated from peers, the native often felt they were alone in the world. now, as an adult, they are powerful people with the heart of a child. they are honest and loving and often a lot more vulnerable than they appear. they want love and support, but can get stuck feeling they need to “perform” to earn affection, becoming reliant on external sources for validation. building some self-esteem and learning to validate their own experiences and emotions is invaluable for these gentle giants, and they start to step into their strengths.
with virgo on the midheaven, the native aspires towards health and contentment. they are quick thinking, careful and dedicated, with a tendency to plan ahead down to the minutiae. there can be a habit of rushing ahead to their chosen destination without being able to enjoy the path they’re taking, and they are prone to anxiety and overthinking. a virgo midheaven is a judgemental placement, in that they are constantly assessing their situation and adjusting accordingly. this can make them seem controlling or critical at times. with the midheaven in virgo, the lower heaven is in pisces. the native’s childhood was often a chaotic place, with few boundaries and little emotional stability, leaving them to fend for themselves in a confusing and uncertain world. the native’s need to feel in control now makes a little more sense, but living life in constant fear of losing it is no real way to live. making use of their penchant for routine, their ability to learn any skill - especially those they deem practical in some way - and their softer, compassionate side will come in handy to help them loosen the reins a little. over time, with the same devotion they give to their loved ones and their chosen field, things do feel less daunting.
libra on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards peace and beauty. they are soothing, reflective and highly intelligent, with a craving for an easy, yet meaningful life. they have a tendency to choose pleasure and comfort over growth, to their detriment. they can be very afraid of confrontation and authority, making themselves small and silent to avoid it. they are attracted to careers in the arts, human rights, or paths that find them developing one-on-one connections with people in some way. with libra on the midheaven, we find aries on the lower heaven. the native often grew up in an explosive house, where conflict was handled poorly and communication was last in line. their caregivers may have been draconian and not allowed them to develop much of their own self, which can explain their fascination with how people work and their struggle to maintain healthy boundaries as adults. they are sensitive individuals and work very hard to make others happy, often at their own expense. it takes time to spot these patterns and start mending them, but it’s worth the work to build a beautiful life, by and for one’s own self.
scorpio on the midheaven brings a desire to know all their is to know about their chosen field. they are intriguing, determined and passionate, but they aren’t loud about it. they chase their goals with a fierce drive and focus, which can leave them blinkered to the rest of their life in the process. they can be overachievers, pushing themselves beyond their limits, and are often attracted to the “darker” side of life; what classes as dark, i’ll leave up to the individual to decide for themselves. the native is an intense individual, and not one that makes friends easily, but they tend to make friends for life when they do, chart depending. scorpio on the midheaven means taurus is on the lower heaven. the native’s childhood was often quite traditional in terms of values, with strict and hardworking caregivers who perhaps had some secrets. difficulties were between family, and we therefore kept quiet and not addressed, left to fester. as an adult, scorpio midheaven looks to excise secrets and half-truths in their life, and lives a life of integrity at any cost, or alternately, if they internalise their early experiences, they live a double life, hiding themselves from the world. to thrive, they need to be honest with themselves and their loved ones, and make use of their intense drive to work on themselves and their goals.
with sagittarius on the midheaven, the native aspires towards growth. they are detached, curious and enthusiastic, with an insatiable lust for knowledge. they are often attracted to careers that involve a lot of education or personal development, but can find it hard to settle down. traditionally, this placement would denote travelling or uprooting for a career, which suits the native just fine as they don’t attach too easily, to places or people. with sagittarius on the midheaven, gemini is on the lower heaven. growing up was a lonely experience for the native, who spent a lot of time alone. they craved connection and spontaneity, but instead of their caregivers, who may have been anxious individuals themselves, they found solace in the world around them. as adults, they are very cool externally, but struggle to attach closely and may struggle with commitment issues and a need for freedom that beats everything else. if they can settle their hearts and learn to let people in, they’ll find that their unique way of seeing the world, their creative thinking and wealth of knowledge will serve them very well indeed, and the world is just waiting for them.
capricorn on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards independence, respect and mastery. they are driven, strong-willed and surprisingly fiery at times, with a strong sense of responsibility. they are natural leaders and managers, but often fail to see themselves this way until they’re older and wiser. they don’t tend to find the prospect of self-employment attractive, preferring instead a more structured pathway, though they suit working for themselves very well. with capricorn on the midheaven, cancer lies on the lower heaven. the native’s childhood was spent having to “mother” those around them, whether that is because of unstable emotions from caregivers meaning they couldn’t do it, or life circumstances leading to an inability. the native had to learn to put aside ideas deemed childish in order to try and become what was expected of them. as an adult, capricorn midheaven is capable of truly amazing feats, but they are prone to melancholy and find it hard to believe in themselves. when they do learn this vital skill, their passion, drive and determination will take them far indeed, and help them strike a balance between work and life.
aquarius on the midheaven brings a desire to better things. they are more patient than they seem, but their brains move quickly and they do find it hard when those around them can’t keep up. they need support from their people and a good network to really thrive, being a social sign despite the mad scientist stereotype. they may be attracted to almost any field, but it has to be important to the native. with aquarius on the midheaven, leo is on the lower heaven. throughout their childhood, they felt different. not necessarily a bad different, but they knew they were cut from a different cloth to their caregivers, or peers perhaps. being a compassionate and conflict-avoidant placement, they often tried to act the part of one of the gang, and now as an adult they can feel unsure of who they really are and where they really fit in. they have a wide range of often-contradictory interests and skills, and make friends with people of all backgrounds, so they are something of a patchwork quilt. but that’s no bad thing, and embracing every part of themselves will allow them to find meaning and support in life.
with pisces on the midheaven, the native aspires towards healing. they are kind, perceptive and willing. their goals can be ephemeral and easily clouded, leaving them confused about their place in the world. they aren’t afraid of work but are deeply afraid of being stuck in a situation that drains them, as a sensitive and honest individual. with the midheaven being in pisces, the lower heaven is in virgo and so this fear makes a lot more sense. growing up, the native lived in a stern, restrictive household, where they felt they had to be perfect to be loved. they may have struggled with health issues which caused them some delays, or other rifts in the family. now, as adults, they can lack direction and feel easily overwhelmed and burned out, falling into pits of despair and depression relatively easily when they don’t take extra care. they have a huge store of compassion and this will be their most vital asset, along with their genuine interest in humanity and the world. they have a willingness to help others, an understanding of the depth of the human soul, and the ability to sit and listen and absorb. building healthy boundaries and letting themselves explore will serve pisces midheaven well in life.
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edenesth · 4 months
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The Way to His Heart [1]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2
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Park Seonghwa.
As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.
For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.
But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.
In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.
But he was more than fine with it.
The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.
One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.
You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.
His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.
Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.
Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.
And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.
The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.
This time would be no different.
"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.
The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.
Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."
He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"
The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."
That was enough to silence him.
He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.
But what choice did he have?
None.
"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.
His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."
"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."
Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.
As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.
"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.
Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.
He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.
Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."
Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."
Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.
More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.
All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.
Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.
"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.
"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.
The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"
Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"
The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.
Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.
Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.
Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?
That, you'll never know the answer to.
You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.
Life has been nothing but hell ever since.
No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.
All you could remember was pain.
Endless pain all throughout your childhood.
In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.
Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.
No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.
So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.
Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.
You struggled to figure out where to sit.
Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.
You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.
"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."
You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.
"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."
Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.
"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.
But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"
Oh.
Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.
"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."
Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.
You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.
Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.
After all, you had had enough of this life.
On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.
The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"
Oh.
That made sense.
Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?
Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.
"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?
But this was only temporary.
You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.
How much worse could it get?
After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?
One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.
With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.
Happiness?
You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.
Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?
Perhaps not.
Well, now they might.
Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.
Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.
But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."
Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"
Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.
Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."
You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"
He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."
That hurt.
Why did it hurt?
It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.
"You want happiness? Find it with him then."
« Preview of Part 2 »
The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"
The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."
The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"
With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."
Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."
Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.
"Only the best for future Lady Park."
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I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.
Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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mellori · 10 months
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Hey so was ascrolling the locked tomb tag and saw a thing.
Everybody knows the list of reasons Kiriona's a big sad gay b-word when she shows up in Nona the Ninth. We've got:
• Hey so I just woke up in the corpse of my crush who sure seemed like she reciprocated my confession of love right up until she rejected my mortal sacrifice and decided she never wanted to think about me ever again
• My dead mom doesn't love me, actually, she passionately hated me and found the experience of having me both completely repugnant and horribly inconvenient
• The one thing I thought she'd given me across the veil of death i.e. my name - that was petty revenge against the guy who killed her and has nothing to do with me
• The name she did bother to give me was a not particularly funny joke about her plan to kill me immediately after my birth
• Also she's fr dead now I don't get to confront her about/unpack any of this
• Whoops I'm dead again. Totally speedran "fail my sworn oath to protect Harrowhark" this time let's relive that particular trauma
• Back again sorta and now my body is a horrific mockery of humanity meant to protect and preserve me forever because my Dad definitely asked before he did this
• Dad gave me everything I ever told myself that I wanted so now I can never earn any of it and all of it sucks actually, thanks pops
• Also he's currently in a depression spiral because his polycule imploded with a bunch of attempted and/or successful murders
• Also he's 10,000 years old and completely incapable of relating to me in any way
• Sudden onset proximity to power and influence means I can never trust anybody genuinely wants to be my friend and/or is actually attracted to me and not just sucking up to the new crown prince and heir
• Ianthe
I've read or listened to these books at least five times each and totally missed:
• Dad sure is famous for being the only person capable of performing a ressurection and he hasn't bothered to do that to me
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novelconcepts · 1 month
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One of the most fundamentally interesting things to me about YJ and writing fic, specifically, is how the blame changes hands depending on the story. On whose perspective you're writing from. On whose story it is at a given moment. The very thing I dislike about viewers missing the point becomes so fascinating to me from within the narrative. Who are these characters when seen through the eyes of their peers?
Who does Jackie become? If you're Shauna, she's the love of your life, and your greatest rival, and the other half of your soul, and the person you blame for your dead dreams. If you're Van, she's the respected captain who earns none of your respect in the woods, the one who left you to die without blinking, the easiest target for teenage malice. If you're Natalie, she's competition for affection, the blabbermouth who can't leave well enough alone, the hands putting themselves to no good use. If you're Jackie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You're losing face a little more every day, and you're made of despair, and you can't even trust your best friend. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.
Who does Lottie become? If you're Natalie, she's your direct foil, the splinter under the edge of your thumbnail, the smart mouth to match your own, the confusing amalgamation of normal friend and mad ritual. If you're Misty, she's the first shred of obvious power in months, a leader who might need to be nudged back into line, a fascinating exercise in hitching your wagon to the right star early on. If you're Taissa, she's flat-nuts and endlessly frustrating, she's got your girlfriend's full attention, she's incredibly dangerous. If you're Lottie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You've built a pedestal you can't keep your balance on, and you're not sure if you're right or going crazy, and you didn't want this. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.
From outside the narrative, there is no bad guy. There is no blame. It is no one's fault. It is Man v. Nature, they are doing the best they can with an impossible situation. They're all trying to contribute what they can to the story, for better or worse.
From inside the narrative, you are a teenager trapped in a society constructed entirely of bare-bones-survival with the wildest assortment of girls. From inside the narrative, to stay human, you have to love and fight, respect and judge. Every story changes the game. Every story shifts the blame. A hero in one has the bloodiest hands in the next. And that, to me, is such a thrilling sandbox to play in.
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
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Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
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Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.
You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.
"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.
You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.
"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.
"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.
"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.
"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.
You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"
Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.
You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.
“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 
Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”
“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”
“Huh.”
“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.
“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.
What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          
“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.
“Yes, I am.”
You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.
“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”
Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.
“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.
He smirks. “I’m strategic.”
You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.
You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.
He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.
You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”
He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.
“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”
“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”
His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”
“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.
“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”
His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.
“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.
“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.
Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.
“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…
“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.
“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”
You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.
“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.
“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.
“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”
Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”
“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.
“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.
“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.
“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.
“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??
Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.
You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.
“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”
“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”
You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.
“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.
You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.
“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.
“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.
“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.
“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”
“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.
“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”
Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”
“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.
His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.
“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.
“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.
“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.
“Really?” He whispers.
“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.
You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.
Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.
You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.
You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.
“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.
“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.
After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.
“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.
He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.
“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.
He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.
“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.
“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.
He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –
A knock on the door causes you both to still.
“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”
“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”
The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.
“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”
“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.
You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.
“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.
Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”
You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.
“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.
“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.
“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.
“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”
“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.
Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.
Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.
Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.
“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.
As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.
Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.
You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.
“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.
“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.
“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 
“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.
“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.
“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”
Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.
“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”
You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.
“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”
You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.
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