#I had to split this into two parts for Tumblr because block limit

[kachikirby]

GranEssex Chronicles: Chapter 18 - The Turnabout

The day after the tournament concluded, Meta and Fettuccine were ready to head out on their journey to prove the innocence of the kind doctor Erhard. Currently he was being seen off by Kurabe, who was simultaneously sad and proud about him leaving.

"Meta, not that I don't trust you to, but please be safe on your trip. And please call me twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, ok?"

"Sensei, I'll be fine. Besides Mercury's coming with us, isn't she? You don't need to worry about me."

"I may not need to, but I still will. I worry about everyone under my command."

"I know, but still. I'll be fine."

"You still need to call me regardless. I can't help with the case if you don't keep me updated."

"But Mercury can do that, can't she?"

His mentor gave a huff. "Well, I'm sorry I'm that replaceable to you!"

"Sensei, that's not what I meant." He replied, only to see her laugh.

"I know, I'm just teasing you. I know that you'll never stop caring for me, just as I'll never stop caring for you. Seriously though Meta, there is a reason I want you to be the one to call me."

He tilted his head in questioning. "What is it?"

"Training. You don't have much experience giving progress reports. While admittedly boring, it's still an important thing to be good at."

He let out a groan. "I know, I know. Trust me, Meta, I wouldn't have you bother with it if it wasn't important."

"I understand, sensei."

"Good. I don't need to worry about you, at least in terms of combat. But you will encounter some people who like... to play mind games. I haven't fully prepared you for that, so be careful."

For some reason, that made Meta grow concerned. "What do you mean?"

"The legal division, they tend to talk a lot. They also tend to find weaknesses in a person. They will try to mess with you, get you to say what they want to hear without you even realizing it. My advice, stay close to Fettuccine, let her deal with them. Don't let yourself get in a situation where you are alone."

"But shouldn't I worry about her as well?"

"No, she's prepared to deal with those people. It's practically apart of her job."

"Ok..." Meta slightly frowned. Hearing that gave him a feeling of helplessness and he disliked that.

"But. Don't think you'll be useless. I know you, Meta, you're very sharp, good at reading people. Besides, there's some situations that need a bit of...muscle to solve."

"Like what? Won't this just be speaking? You know I'm not good with speaking!" By his tone, his mentor could tell he was upset by this.

"Meta, some people refuse to talk and when that happens." The air around suddenly became cold and her eyes hardened. "You need to make them feel fear, then they will talk."

"But I'm not good as you with that!"

"Oh, my sweet Meta, you don't give yourself enough credit. And don't compare yourself to me, that's really not fair to you. You have the talent, or are you forgetting the time you made someone faint from fear just by glaring at them?"

"...did that happen? Or was that because you were with me?"

"Stop that, you're doubting yourself again. And no, I wasn't with you when that happened. I walked in after you caused him to faint. That was all you."

"Could you blame me after I was told I would be mostly useless?"

"Meta, when did I say you would be useless? Like did I actually say that or are you just giving up before you even get started?"

"You didn't say it, but you implied it!"

"No, I implied that it would be difficult on you, but not impossible. I have faith in you, don't think for a second that I don't." She then flicked him on the forehead. "I even specifically said that you wouldn't be useless. If a fight arises, you will be the only one who can protect Fettuccine. You have decent detective skills. And most importantly, you are a pillar."

"...A what?"

"A pillar. Meta, Fettuccine needs you. She'll need your support, otherwise she'll crack under the pressure. Unfortunately, maybe even shatter if it gets that's stressful for her. She has complete trust in you, so it's up to you to keep her calm. You're the only one who can."

Meta was silent as if he was skeptical.

"Why are you so skeptical? You have arguably the most important job because of that."

"But what about Mercury?"

"Fettuccine doesn't know Mercury. Her trust for her is only that of associates, nothing more. You, however, are close friends. She trusts you enough to tell you about her goal, something very few people knew about. Hell, all the progress she's made recently is because of your assistance. Your presence. Not Mercury, not me, but you." Kurabe gave another sigh. "I hope that you understand how important your role is on this mission now."

"...So even if I'm not as smart as her, I'm still just as useful to her regardless? Is that what you mean?"

"Of course. Again, your job is protecting her and giving her support!"

Meta nodded, feeling more confident, but also scared. Not for himself, however... "...Will she really shatter without my encouragement?" He then paused before continuing. "...as in her core?"

Kurabe gave him a sad look. "Yes. It's rare and unlikely to happen, but a Limet's core can shatter from stress. That's why you are so important. You need to protect her, both in mind and in body."

"...I can imagine this would be a situation where that could happen..."

"Exactly. That's why you have arguably the most important job. You are a guardian and I know you can keep her safe. I have complete faith in you. She has complete faith in you."

"...thank you, sensei."

"No need to thank me, Meta. Just do your best, that's all I ask of you."

He nodded in understanding.

"Do you have any more questions?"

"No, I think I'll be fine now, sensei."

Kurabe gave a smile. "Good." She then gently patted his back. "Now you better get going."

"Ok!" He nodded happily. "I'll make you proud, sensei."

"You always do."

The youth only smiled at those words.

"Now go, Meta, be the guardian I know you are."

"I will, sensei!"

Kurabe smiled. "Now, go!"

Meta nodded and ran off.

"...He's growing up at an impressive rate, isn't he Mercury?" She asked, seeing the silvery woman step out from behind a corner.

"Yeah, he is. I assume that's why you didn't hug him?"

"Somewhat. Besides, I'll just hug him when he gets back. I have a feeling he will want one."

"And what makes you think that?"

"All the political bull crap. I'd be surprised if he didn't have a splitting migraine by the end of it."

"Yeah, good point. He already hates that stuff, so it'll probably get even worse..."

"Exactly. So, I'm sure by then he'll need a hug."

Mercury chuckled. "Yeah. Besides, I'm sure Fettuccine will make up for whatever hugs he'll be missing before then."

"Right. I sincerely doubt the two will get into much trouble, but keep a good eye on them, sis."

"Oh, Meta's completely oblivious to that stuff, so it won't be a problem. But I will anyway." The silver woman replied with a smile.

"Oh, he's not... yeah, he is that oblivious, isn't he."

"Yes."

Kurabe chuckled at the blunt response. "Regardless, keep an eye on them. Not for anything dirty, but just in case they, or rather, Meta needs your support."

"I will. You can count on me."

"I know. Now you better get moving as well. Don't want to keep them waiting."

Mercury gave a nod and walked off with her baggage in hand.

---------

Meanwhile, Fettuccine was waiting at the star jet they would be taking, her baggage already on board.

"Hiya, Metty! You ready to get going?" She exclaimed as she saw him approaching her.

"As ready as I can be, Fetty."

"You got any luggage?"

"Yeah." He said, pulling a suitcase from out of his cape.

"Alright, let's add that in."

Meta nodded and walked past her, stopping in his tracks right before he fully went in. "I'll protect you."

Fettuccine blinked for a moment, but then began to blush. "I... thank you, Metty..."

"You're welcome." He replied, not knowing why she was blushing.

Seeing this, Fettuccine quickly tried to go back to normal. "S-so, anyway... where's Mercury?"

Meta silently pointed behind her, seeing said woman smirking at them.

"Ah, let me take your luggage!" Fettuccine quickly said as she grabbed Mercury's bag and put it in the ship, quickly entering it.

"Meta, what did you say that made her so flustered?"

"I don't know. All did that said I would protect her."

Mercury laughed. "Young people are so entertaining sometimes."

"...I don't get it."

"Well to put it this way. You know how people can be embarrassed by things they like sometimes?"

"Um... yeah?" He tilted his head.

"She loved that you said you will protect her, but how you said it caught her off guard. Just like how Kurabe praises you and you act embarrassed about it because you weren't expecting it."

"So, it's because of how nice I said it?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

He only scratched his head, somewhat confused by that. "But I wasn't trying to be nice. I was trying to be serious."

"And you were being seriously nice. Don't you think telling someone you will protect them is a nice gesture?" Her face then became serious for a moment. "Trust me, Meta, your words got through to her. She knows how serious you are about promises."

"Ok."

"Good. Now let's get inside. We have a long trip ahead of us."

The puff nodded as he walked inside the ship.

"Alright everyone, let's go over our plan again. First, we go to the legal division to get the case open again. That's honestly going to be the hardest part." Fettuccine said.

"So, what are we doing?" Meta asked.

"Heading to the main base of the legal division to open up the case."

"Let's focus on doing that first."

The puff nodded, understanding that if they didn't get the case opened up, then that would basically be game over. "Well, let's get going to their base then."

Without another word, Mercury took the controls and blasted off.

---------

In about an hour, they arrived at the planet where the legal division was stationed. Meta was about to step out, but then he saw Fettuccine with the most nervous expression he'd ever seen come from her.

"...I'd ask what's wrong, but I think I already know." He said, taking her hand.

"...Yeah. It's funny, I was so confident before, but now that I'm actually here, I can't help but think about what will happen if I fail."

"I'm nervous, too, but I think everything will be fine. You and Mercury are with me, after all." She smiled and clenched his hand. "Would you mind holding my hand until we get inside?"

"Of course. It makes you feel better, doesn't it?"

"Thank you."

"Well, let's get going, shall we?"

"Let's." She replied with a nod.

The two walked off the ship and caught up with Mercury. "You two good to go now?"

"Yeah, now let's go do this!"

"Good to see your confidence back." Mercury commented with a smile.

"Yeah, thankfully." Fettucine smiled back.

"Sensei was right. I'm the only one who can support her. Don't worry Fetty, I'll keep you from shattering, no matter what." Meta thought to himself. He noticed the woman looking at him, and she squeezed his hand harder upon seeing the determination in his eyes, as if it encouraged her.

"Well, moment of truth. Are you ready, Fetty?"

His friend gave him a smile in reply. "Yeah, I'm ready because you're with me."

Meta nodded and the group entered the building.

---------

The inside was fairly plain, set up like a typical law office. Honestly Meta was surprised by how normal it all seemed.

"...I honestly thought it would be a bit more decorative..." he thought.

"For the sticks in the mud that run this place, this is decorative." Mercury said.

"I assume you've met them before, Mercury?"

"Yeah, with Reedy. They're technically under the Intelligence division's jurisdiction, actually."

"Really? Then why not have Reedy command them to open the case?"

"While I wish it was that easy, that would be an abuse of authority. And you know how much Reedy values following the rules."

"Not even if his younger sister asks him?"

"Again, abuse of authority. If I could easily get Reedy to do it, I would. However, if Reedy did abuse his authority, there's a chance he could get demoted. I'm not going to risk ruining my brother's career. So, we have just had to do this the legal way."

Meta only sighed.

"I prefer it this way, actually." Fettuccine said.

"Why's that?" The youth tilted his head in questioning.

"That's simple, really. I want to make a real difference; I want to expose how corrupt and unfair certain aspects of the legal division are. I can't exactly achieve that if I just have Reedy do it for me."

Meta nodded in understanding. "I see. That makes sense."

"And even if it's harder that way, it will be worth it once Erhard is finally set free."

"Yeah. I agree." The youth smiled. "So, is there anything I can do at the moment, Fetty?"

"Just stay by my side."

The soldier nodded, understanding just how important he really was right now.

"I'll be waiting outside, just to make sure no one bothers you two while you get to work." Mercury said as she walked out.

The two nodded and walked up to the desk of the division's leader, Wolfreid.

"Fettuccine, what business do you have here?" He asked in deep yet polite voice.

The woman briefly gazed at Meta before answering. "I'm here to ask for you to reopen the Erhard case."

"What for?"

"Because I have some information pertaining to the case that proves that there's still mysteries needing to be solved."

He seemed to stare for a moment. "I see. And what is that information?"

Meta noticed Fettuccine was starting to shake and silently grabbed her hand. "Relax, Fetty, you can do this."

She breathed out deeply to clear her thoughts. "To begin with, there are a few individuals connected to the incident that have gone unaccounted for. Not dead, not in lockdown. Just gone. These individuals were also directly connected to Erhard."

"And do you have the names of these individuals and their relation to Mr. Quinter?"

"Wade and Rebecca Forde, the children of Dr. Dru Forde. The doctor Erhard worked for."

"I see. And do you have any other evidence that they might somehow be connected?"

"Yes. Erhard begun to regain a few memories about them. How one of them always argued with the doctor. Then there's one other important detail. Veno, the one in charge of the case as I'm sure you're aware of, is the Stepbrother of Dru. And don't you find it strange that he was quick to blame Erhard despite there being no incriminating evidence against him outside of him being there?"

"I can see why that was unusual. That is why Veno submitted a report about his findings."

"I believe I can uncover the truth. Please, just give me a chance. You can even put me on a strict time limit if needed."

The man stared for a moment. "...very well. I've heard about you from the intelligence division head and I'm interested to see your abilities. I'll give you... say... 5 days."

Meta looked shocked and quickly looked at Fettuccine, who was sweating. "Fetty...I believe you can do it."

However, she still seemed frozen.

"Fetty, calm down. You have what it takes. You are the only one who can save Erhard."

"That will be fine." She managed to say, making Wolfreid raise an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

The woman breathed deeply before replying with her answer. "Yes, it will."

"Very well then. The case will now be officially open once again. Good luck to you, Fettuccine and you... what is your name?" He asked Meta.

"My name is Meta."

The man gave a chuckle. "I see, the unkillable's student. I assume you are assisting Fettuccine?"

"Yes, I am."

"Relax. A good assistant needs to be less stiff. Take it from me. Now you two, good luck with your investigation."

"Thank you very much, sir." Fettuccine said. "Let's go Meta."

The youth nodded and followed after his friend.

"He was a lot more reasonable than I expected." Meta commented, seeing Fettuccine visibly relax. She only silently nodded in response. "...are you ok?"

"Metty, do you really think we can solve a case like this in five days?"

"If we work together, I think so. Everyone talks about how smart you are, Fetty."

"Yeah, but-"

"No "buts" about it. You are going to do it and that's final."

She smiled quietly. "...thank you, Metty."

"You're welcome. Now let's get back to Mercury so we can tell her the good news."

"Ok." She nodded as they began to head back to the ship.

"You'll also need to call Kurabe, Meta, let her know she can legally read Erhard's mind now."

"I will when I get back to the ship."

"I know that, silly." She giggled, which Meta was glad to hear.

"She seems to be better already." He thought as he smiled, and they continued their return to the starship.

---------

Once more, Meta spoke up on their trip back. "So, where do we even begin searching? The school it happened at?"

"That would probably be the best location to start with." The woman replied, with her friend nodding and then gaining a quizzical expression.

"Fetty, do you know who owns the school?"

"I believe it's the king of Brightfall. While he doesn't rule Currumpaw, he donated a lot to help build and fund the school..."

Meta blinked for a moment as if that sounded familiar. "...Wait, Brightfall. That sounds familiar. Oh, the loud penguin!"

"Oh, you've met King Bebebe before?" She asked.

"You could say that. He was a guest at that party. He was incredibly cooperative, if a bit noisy."

"Yeah, that does sound like him. I guess it also makes sense that you'd know about him since he's one of Kurabe's closest friends."

"Yeah, if anything this is a lucky coincidence. He should be willing to help us."

"Especially if I'm with you, probably."

"Right. How far away is Brightfall anyway?"

"About an hour from here."

Meta nodded as waved at Mercury who was waiting for them.

"Hey, you two, good news I hope?"

"Yeah, he's reopening it and we've gotta solve it in 5 days."

"Well, the reopening part is good at least."

"Yup. Now we've gotta head to Brightfall to talk to the owner of the university where the incident occurred."

"And you need to call Kurabe, Metty."

"I know, I know..." He grumbled as he walked onto the starship.

"It's important to the mission. We need her to read his mind ASAP."

"I know..." Meta dialed Kurabe's number on his phone and waited.

Almost immediately, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, sensei. We got the case open, so you can dive into Erhard's head now."

"I see. That's good. How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing fine. And... you were right. I am important to this mission."

His mentor giggled. "See? You were all worried for nothing."

"I suppose I was."

She continued to giggle, which made Meta feel even more embarrassed.

"Anyway, we're going to Brightfall next. I'll update you about how that goes later."

"I look forward to hearing about it. Good luck, my little knight."

"Thank you, sensei." Meta said as he hung up. "...That wasn't nearly as embarrassing as I'd thought it be."

"Despite what you may think, Kurabe's good at knowing when is and isn't a good time for jokes."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right Mercury."

"I'm always right!" She said with fake pride.

"Really? Then why do you almost always lose bets to sensei?" He said with a knowing smirk.

"That's a different matter altogether!"

"Of course. So, Mercury, are you friends with Bebebe like sensei is?"

"I'm friends with him, but not to the level of him and Kurabe."

"I see. Well, he at least trusts you right? That should make talking to him easy. Well, easier. He seems fairly approachable to begin with."

"Yeah, he is. If a bit loud..."

"I'd rather deal with a loud noble over a despicable one." Meta commented.

"Yeah, Bebebe's probably the friendliest nobleman you'll ever meet. Unlike most royals, he doesn't have a greedy heart."

"Well, he's sensei's friend. I trust him to be like that..."

"Yeah, we're lucky it's him we're meeting. He might not be the smartest, but he makes it up by being so cooperative."

The youth nodded in agreement.

"I've never communicated with him directly." Fettuccine admitted. "But I've been in the same room with him before while watching him talk to Reedy. So, I know this part of the job will be simple."

"Well, let's head off to Brightfall then."

---------

About an hour later, the group landed on the Planet Brightfall in the Crescent Kingdom. The kingdom itself seemed to be very peaceful. It also seemed to be an interesting mix of summer and winter, with a hot sun and cool snow somehow coexisting.

"...This is an interesting planet." Meta commented.

"I know, right? It makes me want to study it..." Mercury uttered.

"As tempting as that sounds, we have a job to do. Mercury, could you lead the way? I assume you've been to the castle before." Fettuccine asked.

"Of course, I've been here with Kurabe multiple times. Follow me." She waved them on as they headed to the front door of the castle.

"I'm surprised the guards are just letting us move by without any fuss. I guess they really trust us Organization soldiers." Meta commented.

"Of course. Bebebe is an avid supporter of ours."

"I know that. Guess I'm just not used to such a... friendly army."

"I can see why you're so confused."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh look, I think that's the captain of the army approaching us."

Ahead was a small creature wielding a spear. This was Izumi Dee, a Waddle Dee. "Hello visitors. What business do you have here?"

"We're here to visit King Bebebe." Mercury replied.

"Again, what business? I need an actual reason."

"We're here to speak with him about a school he owns. It's important for an investigation we're holding." Fettuccine responded.

"...oh. About that school again. Yeah, let's get this over with, I guess..." He sighed as he began to lead them.

"Why are you complaining, Izumi? It's not like you have literally anything to do with this." Mercury asked.

"We've gotten hounded by people about it a lot. It's why I drink."

"That implies you're over a hundred years old." She deadpanned.

"Who knows? Maybe I am!"

"Darling, quit making up excuses as to why you drink. It's unbecoming of a captain." A secretary Waddle Dee that was approaching them said.

"So, you just saying I can just drink whenever I feel like it?"

"No, I'm telling you that your behavior is unbecoming. That includes the drinking while on duty."

"Look, can you two talk about that later? We'd like to talk to the king." Mercury quickly said.

"Right of course, just walk through this door."

"Thank you." She said before nodding to her allies and stepping into the throne room.

Sitting in the middle of the room was King Bebebe, diligently signing some paperwork.

"Huh? Who is it?" He asked as he looked, eyes widening when he saw who it was. "Ah, Mercury and Kurabe's kid, it's good to see two in good health."

Meta only looked at him in confusion, causing Mercury to giggle. "Good to see you too, Bebebe."

"How's Kura-chi doin'?"

"She's doing fine, but that's not what we're here for." She looked towards Fettuccine, who stepped forward.

Bebebe stared at her for a moment before speaking once more. "You... you're an intelligence member, right? Guess this is for something important."

"Yes, my name is Fettuccine. I'm a member of the intelligence division and I'm here to ask you about the incident at Seton University."

"Oh! I guess that case finally got opened back up. Alright, what do you need?"

She took a quick look at Meta before looking back at the king. "Simply put, would it be possible to get access to records and video footage from that point in time?"

"Sure. I assume Kura-chi's helping ya?"

"Uh... yes she is." She replied, surprised by how cooperative he actually was. "Well, seeing is believing, I guess..."

The king then laughed. "Oh, don't be too surprised. You're the girlfriend of Kura-chi's kid, ain't ya?"

Fettuccine reacted as one would expect and turned pink. "N-no. We're just good friends."

Meta only tilted his head in confusion. "...of course you're a friend of mine, Fetty."

The king just laughed. "Alright, that's enough fun for now I suppose. Morimura! Bring her what she wants!"

The Waddle Dee entered the room as she pushed up her glasses. "Yes, your highness."

"Now while I don't mind assisting ya, would you care to explain why you reopened the case?"

"Because it's unfair to punish a man like Erhard for a crime he probably didn't even commit."

The king hummed. "Yup. Ya gots a point there. I myself thought it was a bit weird."

"Yeah. Wait that was a long time ago, how old are-"

Before she could ask that, Morimura came back in with the requested documents.

"These were the documents you requested, correct? Take your time to look them over." She said while handing the thick folder to them.

"You have a library we can sit in?"

"Yes, allow me to take you there."

"Thank you, Mrs. Morimura."

"You're welcome." She said as she began to guide the group to the library.

---------

Once fully settled in, Fettuccine immediately got to work reading over everything. As for Meta, he decided to look around the library with Mercury, believing it would be best to just let Fettuccine concentrate. He started by looking at some of the books that were on display.

"There's a lot of books I've never seen before here."

"Of course. Some are written in the native language of Brightfall and the others are simply rare books you won't find anywhere else. Like this book, Pilgrim's Travel Log!"

"Who is Pilgrim?" Meta asked, causing Mercury to giggle.

"Oh, pilgrim isn't the character's name. It's what the main character is. The protagonist is named Christopher and he's taking a long and difficult journey to a promised land. Even if it's clearly come kind of spiritual allegory, I think it's more interesting to read as an actual story."

"Must be an ancient story based on how it sounds."

"Yup, I think it's actually older than me and Kurabe. If you take a look at one of the copies of the book on the shelf you can tell it's falling apart a bit."

"Shouldn't something like that be in a museum then?"

Mercury shrugged in reply. "Probably have too many copies of it."

"I suppose that makes sense." "Yup. So, you see anything else that sticks out to you?"

"Not really. Mercury, have you been here often? The castle as a whole, not just the library."

"Somewhat. Not as often as Kurabe."

"Why is that? Does sensei just happen to take a lot of jobs from here?"

"Yup. Her and Bebebe are old friends."

"How old exactly?" Meta asked, curious about the past of his mentor.

"Since Bebebe was a prince."

"So, old then. Were they close?"

"Yup! Really close!"

"Could you go into more detail?"

"I would, but Kurabe would probably be very angry if I did." She giggled.

Meta just tilted his in confusion. "Why's that?"

"Let's just say there's one part of it she doesn't like anyone knowing about..."

"Is it bad? But she and him seem to be on good terms."

"It's not bad at all, just something she's embarrassed to talk about."

"Well, then just tell me about the not embarrassing stuff."

"The two of them often worked together on missions that she took on Brightfall, so you can say that they're allies in battle."

"Really? Him? He doesn't look much like a fighter. Not in the physical sense, but mentally. He doesn't give off warrior vibes like the soldiers do."

"Oh, that's because he doesn't fight anymore due to tearing a ligament in his arm and trying to hide it."

"That would explain it then. It looked like one arm was weaker than the other."

"Yup. He's been learning magic to make up for hit from what I've heard."

"Really? How...weird for a noble to actually take action like that."

"Yeah, but Bebebe's different."

"I know and that's why it's weird. But in a good way."

"Yup. I think so, too."

"...Mercury, do you think Erhard is guilty or innocent?"

"Honestly... I'm not sure. But I came along with you to find the answer myself."

"I see. I think he is, but we'll never know if we don't find anything. I wish I could help more with the actual investigation."

"I understand, Meta."

"But I'm sure I'll get my chance to be useful eventually."

"Yes, you will." "...You think I might have to do any fighting during this mission?"

"Yup."

"Why do you think that?"

"...if Erhard is innocent, do you really think that Veno will just sit on the side and wait for Fettuccine to solve the case?"

"You think he might send people after her?"

"If he has something to hide, yep."

"Then in that case, i should get back to Fetty, just in case."

"I'll go with you then."

The youth nodded as his friend followed him.

---------

Meanwhile with Fettuccine, she was getting a headache. Not out of annoyance, but due to the large amount of information she was getting. Rubbing her head, she took a moment to stand up and stretch.

"At least this stuff should help. At least a little."

Her head still throbbed a bit in pain due to all the information that she read through.

"Fetty, are you ok?" She heard someone ask.

"Oh, I'm fine! I'm just a bit tired!"

"You sure? You seem pretty exhausted."

"No, no, I'm fine!"

"...Alright. Did you find anything useful."

"Oh, a lot of things!"

Meta smiled, glad that the time spent here was indeed useful.

"Well, you should probably take a break then." Mercury said.

"I'll take a break when I... need... one." She said, falling asleep near the end.

"Which is right now." The woman sighed.

"Will she be fine?" Meta asked, worried for his friend.

"As long as she rests, yeah." The youth nodded.

"I'll take her back to the ship. Mercury, would you mind thanking the king for us?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you." Meta told her, picking Fettuccine up and walking out.

---------

In a couple of minutes, Meta returned to the ship and laid Fettuccine down in the sleeping quarters. He then walked outside and punch in front of him, causing an invisible figure to grunt in pain.

"Reveal yourself, assassin."

However, he was immediately slashed by the attacker.

"The hard way it is." Meta said calmly, slashing the assassin twenty times in one second.

Almost immediately, the assassin's invisibly cut off and they fainted right in front of the puff.

"Let that be a lesson for you. Don't mess with those under my protection."

Of course, there was no response.

"Well, that confirms Mercury's suspicions I suppose." He commented, dragging the unconscious assailant into the ship, tying him up.

"Guess I'll wait for him to wake up so Fetty can interrogate him when she wakes up." Meta sighed. Depending on how one viewed it, this whole case just became simpler or more complicated. More than likely, though... it had just become more difficult.

"Did I miss something?" Mercury said as she arrived to see the tied-up assailant.

"More or less that you're right about assassins coming for Fettuccine."

"Well, isn't that just wonderful?" She replied sarcastically.

"It seems like I really will be able to help in this case after all..."

"Duh. Everyone member of a team has a role to play. Even if that role isn't obvious at first."

The youth seemed to blush in embarrassment. "...I've been silly lately, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have been." The woman giggled.

"Well, I just hope she wakes up soon."

"I hope so, too. She needs to tell us all that information she found."

"Right. Let's just hope things don't get too hard for us."

The youth nodded in agreement.

---------

After an hour of waiting, the sleeping beauty finally woke up.

"Hmm...? What happened...?" Fettuccine uttered as she stretched her arms.

"You fried your brain." Mercury bluntly stated.

It was as if everything that happened came back to her, because Fettuccine's entire body turned pink.

"Right, that did happen. Um... anything happen while I was unconscious?"

"We were attacked by an assassin, but I easily took them out and tied them up if you want to interrogate them." Meta explained.

"An assassin!? Great, just what we needed. Bring the punk to me."

The puff nodded and brought the person into the room.

"You ain't getting nothing out of me!" The would-be assassin yelled.

"I assume we just need to leave this to you, Fetty?" The youth asked.

"Yeah, this won't take long at all. Gimme five minutes."

Both Meta and Mercury nodded in response before leaving the room.

"Alright, talk already. Who sent you?"

The assassin was silent.

"You know, I could just have Meta come back in and kill you."

"I am prepared to die for my mission."

"Are you now? What about your wife and daughter?"

"What about them?"

"Well, firstly, thanks for confirming that you have a family." She said with a smirk. "Secondly, do they even know that you're an assassin?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, is that so? So, I could kill you right now and they'd never even know they just lost a husband and father. Wouldn't that be terrible, leaving them behind without any answers?"

The man only remained silent.

"But we can easily avoid that messy nonsense if you just tell me who hired you."

"No one did."

"How old is your daughter? Four? Five?"

"None of your business."

"Oh, I disagree. You were hired to kill me, meaning I am your business. Now just tell me what I want, and your daughter won't have to be without a father."

The assassin seemed to grin before beginning to cough up blood.

"Oh, trying to kill yourself. Sorry, not happening-" Fettuccine started.

"...are you stupid? This is poison!" He then immediately fainted, no longer breathing.

Fettuccine blinked for a moment in shock before letting out a sigh. "Well, so much for that."

Almost immediately, Meta entered. "Fetty, what happened?"

"Moron killed himself."

"Oh..." He then looked at his friend. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Check his body, he might have an ID on him."

The youth nodded, slightly surprised by how unshaken his friend was.

"Oh, this isn't the first time this has happened. It's incredibly disturbing don't get me wrong, but you learn to deal with it."

"...I know, but I thought you would be a bit shaken by it..."

"Oh, trust me I am, I'm just good at hiding it. Go ahead and read my emotions, Metty, I don't mind."

The youth nodded and closed his eyes, focusing only on Fettuccine. "...I feel sadness. I guess you are taking it hard."

"I am. I hate death of any kinds besides natural causes. It's just you learn to deal with it until the mission is over. That's when you, or I guess I, can cry."

Meta knew that feeling all too well.

"Besides, now's not the time to let our nerves get the best of us. We have a case to solve!" She said with a smile, but Meta knew it was slightly forced.

He stared for a moment before walking over to Fettuccine and hugging her.

"...Thank you, Metty."

"No problem, Fetty."

"Now, did you find any sort of ID on him?"

"Here." He said, handing her a card.

"Kno Wan. Kno Wan. His name is literally no one. Darn assassins and their annoying aliases."

"So, I guess we don't know who he is then."

"No one knows. Well, whatever, at least we have proof of an assassin trying to kill me. That means someone doesn't want me investigating. Which means we're on the right track."

"So, what planet are we heading to next then?"

"Anywhere that doesn't have anything to do with the case and has a hotel. Less likely to deal with assassins that way."

"Alright, leave it to me." They heard Mercury from the door.

"A hotel, already?"

"Yup. We need a good place to rest and go over the information we got."

"It's that late already?" Meta asked in confusion.

"No, but we know assassins are after us. It would be better to lay low. And if my hunch is correct, they'll be waiting for us in certain locations. Which is why we need to go out of our way."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm sure Mercury will take us to a planet that none of them will expect us to be on."

"Plus, now I'm more confident with our five-day time limit." Fettuccine smirked.

"I'm happy to hear that, Fetty."

"I'll tell you why I am when we get to a hotel room." She said while sitting down.

He nodded in response and sat next to her. "So, what now? Besides going to a hotel, I mean."

"Simple. Knowing your sensei, she should be getting ready to read Erhard's mind. We just have to wait."

---------

True to Fettuccine's predictions, Kurabe was indeed getting ready.

"Alright, Erhard, you might feel a bit of discomfort from this. Are you fine with that?"

"If this is going to help me in the end, I'm ready for it."

Kurabe nodded. "Lay down and close your eyes, clear your mind. Searching for specific memories requires that you don't have many stray thoughts running around."

"That will be easy. I've done that quite a lot in solitary confinement."

"Good. There's nothing more annoying than searching through a storm of incoherence. Now on the count of three I'll enter your mind. You ready?"

The doctor took a deep breath before letting it out and answering. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then, three, two, one." Kurabe placed her hand on his head. Next, she knew she was in what appeared to be a doctor's office.

"This must be the form his mind takes. It's well organized at least." She then let out a breath. "Well, time to look around."

Her first thought was to open a file cabinet, but it was locked much to her annoyance.

"I could just force my way in, but that could damage his already fractured memories. I'll just have to find the key for it."

She then began to look through the nearby desk, trying to find anything that looks like a key. That's when she noticed something on nearby desk. A large pile of torn apart paper. Or to be more specific, a torn-up picture.

"Ah, I've dealt with this before. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, just need to put the pieces together and you'll form a picture." She giggled, enjoying jigsaw puzzles, and began to put it back together.

"And done. Oh, it's a family picture, that's him as a kid, those must be his parents." She smiled.

Suddenly a new part of the office that was previously blocked off was now open to her.

"Repair his memories and more memories reveal themselves. Simple enough."

She then moved forward, hoping to find the key soon. She had a feeling the most important memories were locked in that cabinet.

"Well, this will take longer than I thought. But don't worry Erhard, I'll get your memories back. One step at a time."

---------

Back with the investigation trio, they had finally landed on a faraway planet.

"So what planet is this, Mercury?" Meta asked.

"I don't know. I just picked one at random. I think the map said Tabni, or something like that."

Fettuccine shrugged. "As long as it's not connected to the case, it'll work."

"Alright then. So why a hotel? Why not just tell us here in the ship what you found?"

"Safety mostly. You never know, they might have put microphones or something on the ship to spy on us."

"Well, that makes sense. So, what kind of hotel are we staying at then?"

"Whatever this town we landed in has to offer. We don't have the luxury of picking one beforehand." Mercury told him.

"Should be easy. I believe this is a planet known for its nightlife, so there are a lot of hotels here."

"That description fits a lot of planets, Fettuccine. Come on, let's get moving."

"Okaaayy..." She grumbled as she dragged Meta along.

"Why are you grumbling? This is your idea. Besides I'm the one paying for it."

Meta didn't say anything, but he got the feeling that it was because of how dismissive Mercury was of Fettuccine's expression of knowledge.

"Well, whatever, we got better things to worry about." The woman shrugged as she followed them to a hotel.

---------

Once fully settled in a nearby cheap, but well-kept hotel, Fettuccine got ready to explain what she learned. She was then given a plate of food.

"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered room service for dinner for all of us." Mercury said.

"It's fine. I guess I'll explain after I eat."

"Of course. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Then enjoy your food!"

"I will. So, who is sleeping where? There's only two beds and one couch."

"I'll sleep on the couch, you two sleep on the beds." Mercury said.

"You sure?"

"Oh yeah! I can sleep just about anywhere!"

"I mean, me and Meta can share one bed and-"

"I'll take the couch."

Fettuccine pouted. "Metty, what do you think?"

"I don't see the big deal. If she wants the couch, she can have it."

She continued to pout.

"What?"

Her pout became bigger.

"Quit pouting and eat, your food is getting cold."

She did so in silence.

---------

After a half hour of eating in silence, now it was time for Fettuccine to reveal what she learned.

"So, what did you learn, Fetty?" Meta asked.

"First. A very interesting fact. Veno was actually a huge donor to the school. Donating large amounts of cash each year, more than enough to sustain it. That until a certain year. 15 years before the incident, his donations became smaller and smaller. Thanks to Bebebe, the school was still able to function, but nowhere near as much as it used to."

"I see. Do you have an idea of why they decreased?"

"Yeah. As you know Veno is the half-brother of the doctor. According to these records, 15 years before the event was when the doctor and his son reportedly started getting into those arguments Erhard remembered. The most likely reason as to why Veno lessened his donations was that he was on his nephew's side and most likely wanted to sabotage his half-brother."

"What were those arguments about?"

"Apparently according to these records, his son wanted them to get into developing weapons. Poison weapons."

"I see."

"Like what happened during the incident." Mercury said.

"Obviously the good doctor was against this and shut down any proposal made about it."

"So, now what? Does that mean the son was the culprit?"

"Not necessarily Metty, but it does make him a suspect."

"What else have you found?"

"Something very interesting from the parking records. You see every visiting vehicle needs to be registered upon entering the school grounds, for secure purposes. One of the registered visiting vehicles on the day of the incident, belonged to Veno."

"So, I assume he's another suspect?" Meta asked.

"He already was, but now he's even more suspicious."

"So arguably he might be the biggest suspect, is that right?"

"Precisely."

"I see..."

"As for anything else. Something very interesting. I found the schedule for all employees. Erhard, was not supposed to be there but was apparently asked to come in by the doctor's son."

"Why?" Meta asked.

Mercury hummed. "Might just be me, but I get the feeling it was to lay the blame for what happened there on him."

"But why him? Sure, he was close to the doctor, but why not frame one of the employees that were already there?"

"It's because Erhard was against his idea for poison weapons."

"So, they wanted to take out two birds with one poisonous stone."

"Exactly." Fettuccine nodded.

"Why not just kill him then instead of leaving him alive? Why set up a scapegoat at all?"

"Hmm... that's a good question..." Mercury uttered.

"Simple. If there was no culprit to be found, the investigation would still be on. With a scapegoat however, the case is closed, and the true culprit gets away with no effort." Fettuccine said.

"I see... that makes sense." Meta nodded.

"Now for the hard part. Finding the good doctor's missing children." Fettuccine said, putting air quotes around missing.

"Do you have an idea where they might be?"

"Nope." She sighed.

"Well, I guess that's what we investigate next." Mercury said.

"But where do we start?" Meta asked.

"...We'll have to wait until we get the info from Kurabe."

"So, I guess we're just hanging out here until then, huh?"

"We don't have much of a choice."

"Well, it'll be a nice breather, won't it?"

"I guess so." Meta then smiled.

"Don't worry, Fetty. I'm sure sensei will get back to us as soon as she finds more information."

"You're right, we still have four days after this one. It won't do any good to stay agitated." Mercury clapped her hands.

"Yup. So, let's take this time to relax a bit until Kurabe calls us."

"I hope it's going well." Meta said.

---------

"...I'm getting so tired of these puzzles." Kurabe groaned.

While she had been having fun with the various jigsaw puzzles, they had quickly begun to all other kinds of puzzles. Logic, cryptic, mechanical, sudoku, mathematical, all of them were present throughout these areas.

"Well, at least I'm getting close, just need to find that key."

She let out a stretch and sighed, being particularly stuck on this logic puzzle for quite a time. It was a seemingly simple puzzle, she just needed to input a password and the puzzle would be finished. Unfortunately, she had no idea what the password was or what it could be.

"Maybe I should look around this room a bit more..." She thought.

"Do you require assistance?" A voice said from behind her. Turning around she saw a little boy that looked a lot like Erhard.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would appreciate it."

"Ok. What's the question?"

"The question is, why did you become a doctor."

The child tilted his head. "Isn't wanting to help people enough of a reason?"

"A one word answer please. The password can only be one word."

"Then "people"?"

Kurabe nodded and wrote in "people".

"Is that it?"

Suddenly a key fell onto Kurabe's head.

"I'll take that as a yes..." she grumbled as she rubbed her head. "Well, thank you..." She started to say, but then noticed that the kid was gone. She then shrugged and then continued through the next door that she had opened with the key.

"Well, time to open up that file cabinet already. About time, speaking of, I wonder how much time has passed in the real world." She then shook her head. "I'll see when I get out. Hopefully not too much time."

She reached the cabinet and inserted the key.

"Alright, moment of truth."

After turning it and jiggling the handle, she began to feel the cabinet open up. Suddenly a flood of memories rushed out of it. Kurabe smiled at this and quickly left Erhard's mind. Back in reality Kurabe looked at Erhard.

"What do you remember?"

"...Everything."

"Would you like to discuss it then?"

"Once my headache passes."

She chuckled. "Very well. I will wait however long I need to."

---------

After thirty minutes of rest, Erhard was ready to speak.

"So, are you ready to talk?" Kurabe asked.

"I am, yes."

"Well let's get this out of the way then. Do you remember who the true culprit is?"

"I... think I have an idea..."

"Who is it then?"

"Veno."

"Of course it's him..." Kurabe sighed heavily.

"He wasn't alone. The doctor's son was his accomplice." Erhard continued, exhibiting an emotion he hadn't had in decades. Anger.

"...I see." The warrior replied with a sympathetic gaze. "Do you have any idea where the son might have gone?"

"An idea yes. In the Merbuda system, the doctor had a vacation home."

"Merbuda, you mean the system with constant active black holes?"

"Yes, that one."

"Why have a vacation home in some place so dangerous?"

"Exactly. You wouldn't think to go there, would you?"

"Of course not. I rather have mine in a more peaceful part of the galaxy."

"Which makes it a perfect place to lay low."

"Indeed. Well, I should probably notify my student about this development."

"Before you do, there's something else you need to know."

"What is it?"

"Veno like you, is psychic. However, while you can read and bring out memories, he manipulates them. That's how I lost mine in the first place. It only works on those with weak wills, which is why he couldn't use it on the doctor or head of the law division."

"A psychic, huh? He'll be a difficult opponent then."

"Yes and no. He can only use his powers by physically touching people. Also, he's not exactly physically strong."

"Oh. Then that will be easy." She chuckled darkly.

"And it only works on those with weak wills. I've only known those kids for a short time, but I'm sure they aren't weak in the slightest."

"Of course not. Meta's my student!" She huffed. "But wait, what about you? You don't seem weak."

Erhard smiled sadly. "Veno did something that weakened my will."

"What's that?"

"He killed the doctor." He said bluntly.

Kurabe blinked in shock. "But... why...?"

"You know the old saying. You're either with me or against me. The good doctor refused to submit to Veno's horrific plans. You can imagine the rest."

"I see... I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine. I can grieve after Veno gets caught."

For a moment, Kurabe became silent before she hugged Erhard, who had a surprised expression at the sudden action.

"I understand. But please, just let it all out..."

"Uh... thank you."

Kurabe giggled at the slightly shy reply. "Well now, I better tell them what l learned."

"...can you let me go?" Erhard uttered, now feeling a bit crushed by her.

"Oh, right." She then let go. "I'll come back to you later." She said as she dialed in Meta's number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Meta. How's your investigation coming along?"

"Fine, but we hit a roadblock. We suspect we need to find the doctors children, but we don't know where to start."

She giggled. "Well, lucky for you, someone happens to have an idea of where they are."

"Really? Did you get his memories back?"

"Yup. We also know who the culprit is now."

"Who is it?"

"Veno, with Dr. Dru's son, Wade, being an accomplice."

"...Of course." Meta gave heavy sigh.

"I think you already know where to find Veno, but for the doctor's son, the doctor has a vacation home in the Merbuda system. Go look there."

"Alright, thank you sensei."

"One more thing to note, Meta. Be careful of Veno. He has the ability to manipulate the memories of the weak minded. So, keep your mind strong."

"Really!?"

"Yes, oh and only through physical contact."

"Is that all you have to tell me?"

"One more thing. Veno killed the doctor."

There was a moment of silence, as if her student was processing that.

"...I see..."

"Yes, now good luck Meta. I'll stay here with Erhard just in case Veno tries something."

"Ok. Thank you, sensei."

"You're welcome, my student." Kurabe said as she hung up. She then turned to Erhard. "Now... where were we...?"

"You were hugging me."

"Oh, that's right!" She exclaimed as she resumed her hugging.

"...So why are you hugging me again?"

"Just let it all out, Erhard..."

"Let what out? Oh, you mean my tears."

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"Oh, that's quite a problem then. I can't physically cry, it was a medical condition I was born with." Despite this though, his voice sounded like he was crying even if he wasn't.

"Perhaps, but you sound like you are."

"I am, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are." After a moment of silence, Kurabe spoke up. "Erhard, I have a proposition."

"...what is it?"

"After you get set free, how would you feel about working for my ship?"

"But why though?"

"You want to keep being a doctor, correct?"

"I would love to."

Kurabe held out her hand. "Then welcomed aboard."

"But... doesn't a battleship as important as yours already have a doctor?"

"The Bukisets, but they aren't dedicated doctors."

"But-"

"But nothing. You can never have enough doctors." She then began to pat his cheek, being too short to pat his head. "Especially since you will be specifically dedicated to being a doctor."

"Well, if you really want me aboard, I don't see a reason to refuse."

"Oh please, I know you would ask anyway." She pouted.

"Why are you pouting?" Erhard asked, not understanding anything about social cues. She then stopped hugging him and reached out her hand.

"Then shake my hand."

"Oh right. Of course." He took her hand and shook it.

---------

"So, what exactly is Merbuda and why do you two look so worried?" Meta asked his compatriots.

Noticeably, both Fettuccine and Mercury were sweating profusely upon hearing that name.

"It's... it's an area that's full of black holes." Mercury uttered.

"...Damn."

"Yeah, it's one of the hardest places to navigate."

"Not to mention a death trap." Mercury added.

"Yes, but that's the most likely place where the doctor's son is."

"Well, we'll just have to be extra careful."

"Leave the piloting to me then." Mercury said.

"Alright. Well Fetty, we're making even more progress."

"Yeah, and I'm glad for that." She smiled.

"Well, we should get going then."

"Hold your horses, Metty. It's late and we need to sleep."

"And I already paid for our room." Mercury added.

"Oh... I guess so. Well, I'm going to head to bed now." He said as he headed to one of the beds.

"You too Fettuccine." Mercury ordered.

"I know, I know."

"Good night you two."

"Good night, Mercury." Meta said with a yawn as he fell asleep.

---------

The next morning, Fettuccine was adamant on getting out of the hotel as fast as possible, only taking time to eat breakfast.

"Fetty, why the rush? Today's only just day two."

"Because the Merbuda system is a long way from here. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there."

"Ah... I understand." He then tilted his head.

"How long will it take for us to get there?"

"At our top speed, twelve hours. Not to mention dealing with those black holes."

"Oh. So, it'll take all our daylight."

"Yes and no. The Merbuda system is...strange to put it lightly. Combined with the constant black holes, there's at least ten suns there."

"Ten? How is that possible?"

"No one knows. The Merbuda system is incredibly mysterious and incredibly dangerous."

"I see."

"Also, Metty, I have a question."

"What is it?" "What were you eating at two in the morning?"

"Nothing."

"A parfait." Mercury said.

"I assume he does that often, Mercury?"

"Almost every day."

"And he always eats an affogato every day when he wakes up?"

"No, I don't. Now can we get going already?"

"We're already on our way to the ship, Metty."

"...and yes, you do." Mercury uttered.

"No, I don't. Now drop it."

She only giggled, seeing his pouting face. "Fine, fine. I need to focus on driving anyway."

As Mercury turned back to her task at hand, Meta saw Fettuccine looking at him.

"Metty, do you like sweets?"

"Yeah, I do, why?"

She then looked a bit nervous. "When this is all over... would you like to go to one of my favorite ice cream places?"

Meta tilted his head, not sure why she would be nervous about asking that. "Sure."

She let out a relieved sigh. "I'm glad..."

"Well, I'm glad that you're glad then."

She gave a smile towards him.

"Do you still feel nervous about solving this case?" Meta then asked, thinking of a possible reason why she could be acting like this.

"A bit, but I feel better when I remember that you'll be with me all the way..." she uttered shyly.

"Well of course. You sure you're feeling alright? You should probably get back to sleep if you need it."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Don't worry about me, Metty. You being here with me is enough."

"Well, alright then."

"What about you? Are you nervous?"

"Not really. Not about the case anyway." She tilted her head in questioning.

"Then what are you worried about?"

"The black holes. I'm not scared of anything I can cut, but I can't exactly cut a black hole in half... yet."

"Mercury will take care of it. Don't worry."

Meta nodded. "Yeah. Well, I'm going to train."

"Right now?"

"Of course. I have to train whenever I can."

"...do you mind if I come watch you?"

Meta shrugged. "You can do whatever you want. Not sure why you'd want to though, I'm just going to be doing weightlifting."

For some reason unknown to the youth, Fettuccine's entire body turned pink as she looked at the floor upon hearing that. Meta, confusing her reaction as confusion decided to elaborate.

"Well, I can't exactly do my usual training routine without destroying the ship."

She silently nodded. "Can... I help...?"

"With weightlifting? Sure, I guess."

She smiled happily while following him out of the room.

---------

After a few hours, Fettuccine slightly regretted that choice.

"My arms are so soreee."

"You offered to help me, Fetty. You brought it on yourself." Meta replied while drinking an entire bottle of water in one gulp.

"But did they have to be so heavy?"

"Heavy? Those were the lightest I had."

"A hundred tons is not light!" She said, shocked that he considered those weights to be light.

"...you might need to build up a bit of arm muscle, Fetty."

"Limets don't have muscles Metty, we're slime."

"Then couldn't you make yourself have more muscles?"

"What do you think I was doing!? My strength is not the issue, it's that you are way stronger than I am."

"You should get stronger then."

"Nah, I'm good. I'm not a fighter, I don't need to be freakishly strong. That's your job."

"Then why did you ask to help me?"

"To spend time with you, silly." She said with a blush.

"Oh, well thank you then." He replied, clueless as to why she would seem so embarrassed to spend time with a friend. "But next time, I don't mind if you just want to watch me."

The woman nodded in response.

"Alright you two, it's time to get serious. We've made it to the system." Mercury said.

Quickly and curious, Meta looked out the window. To his utter shock, he saw three black holes in the distance.

"How is that possible?"

"Merbuda is a star system that cannot be understood. That's all there is to it." Mercury simply replied.

"I don't think we should stay here for long. Wait, do people even live here?"

"Besides the people we're looking for, probably not."

"Or people who don't want to be found in general." Fettuccine added.

"Why would anyone willingly do that?" Meta asked, not understanding why anyone would live in a death trap.

"Simply because no one would come to a death trap willingly."

"Besides us anyway."

"Yes, but our business here is different."

"We're still willingly coming to a death trap, our reasons don't really matter."

"A deathtrap..." Meta uttered.

"Meta, I know what you're thinking, and I get it, but it's time to be serious. I need both of you to search for anything that could be a vacation home."

The youth stared at her in questioning, wondering why she said that, but then looked out the window.

"What are you so on edge for, Mercury? You're an expert pilot, right?"

"My piloting skills mean nothing if a black hole magically appears in front of us. Neither of us can afford to dwell on thoughts not related to our mission. Now get to looking."

"Ok..."

"Hey Mercury, do asteroids usually have palm trees on them?" Meta asked.

"They shouldn't. Why?"

"Look to your left."

The woman did so. True to Meta's words, there was a large asteroid, almost the size of a small moon, with what looked like palm trees on it.

"Guess that's it."

"Well, only one way to find out for sure." Mercury said as she flew towards it.

---------

In a few minutes, the group landed on the asteroid.

"Well let's get searching you two."

The two nodded and they began to search around. The asteroid, upon further investigation, appeared to be man-made instead of being something natural.

"...this must be it." Mercury said.

"That explains all the random palm trees."

"Yup."

After walking for what felt like an hour, they came across what appeared to be a modest sized house.

"This must be it. I'm surprised it's not better guarded." Meta said.

"Well, it's not like anyone else knows this place even exists."

"Even so, you would think that..."

"No, putting guards here would just alert us. In some cases, having no defense is the best defense."

"What about traps?"

"Realistically there won't be any. They've been hiding out here for centuries. They probably don't see a need for any."

Meta nodded, but kept a hand on his sword just in case.

The group advanced towards the house.

"So, do we just knock on the door?"

"I guess we can try it. Just keep your guard up."

Meta nodded and knocked on the door, ready to attack if needed. Nobody answered. Meta decided to go with plan B. Which was kicking the door down with full force. He instantly did so, causing his two allies to jump a bit.

"It had to be done. HEY! QUIT HIDING AND COME OUT!"

There was no response. However, he could sense that there was definitely someone here.

"I said come out. I can do a whole lot worse than kicking down a door."

Nothing.

"You might have to do worse, Metty." Fettuccine said.

Suddenly, she froze before falling to the floor face first.

"FETTY?!" He then saw a man standing in the hallway. Immediately, Meta cut off the man's arm, causing the man to suddenly regret showing up. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?"

"What did you think I do, you brat!?"

"A STRAIGHT ANSWER, UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO CUT OFF YOUR OTHER ARM!"

"I stabbed her damn core, that's what I did!"

"Then I guess you want to die!"

"Metty, that's enough. I'm fine." Fettuccine said as she stood up.

"What the?!"

"Oh please, that wasn't the first time I've been stabbed. That little stab doesn't even make it to the top ten stabbings I've been through."

"...I'll give you a few seconds."

"Yeah, I know I'm poisoned. I'll probably die if I don't get treated soon."

Meta only stared in shock before slashing at the man again.

"Metty, I said stop." Fettuccine said, stopping him from killing their target. "He's Wade Forde, the doctor's son, we need him alive."

The youth glared at her with an emotion she'd never seen before from him: wrath.

"Metty, calm down. If you kill him, then our mission will be a failure, Erhard will stay imprisoned, Veno will walk away Scot-free, and I would have died for nothing. You need to calm down. We have a job to do, an innocent man's life to save. If I die, I want to die successful. Now calm down." She let out a cough.

Meta looked at her, the anger in his eyes disappeared, now replaced with worry. "Alright Fetty."

"Damn Veno... how could he mess up something so simple...?!" Wade uttered.

"You've been a free man while an innocent one was blamed for a mass murder you were a part of. You don't get to complain." Fettuccine spat out, coughing violently.

"I can complain if I want, bitch!" He said, smacking her across the face.

"Do you really want to push your luck when my friend has his sword pointed at your throat?"

Before Wade could respond, Meta stabbed out one of his eyes. "You are at my mercy, scum."

He only continued to grin. "...tell me, do you know what CIP is?"

"Yes, I know what it is, but I don't care. You might not be able to feel pain, but I will make you feel fear!" Meta yelled, making Wade piss himself in fear. "Now tell me where the cure is!"

"There is no cure!"

"Bullshit!"

Before Meta could say anything else, a woman's voice he didn't recognize called out. "Yes, there is, don't listen to my idiot brother."

-

-

-

Continued HERE

[starlightkun]

➥ word count: 28.9k ➥ warnings: cursing, side character makes one (1) kms joke (“walk into traffic”), probable overuse of the word skeeze for a couple scenes ➥ genre: angst heavy at the beginning then fluff, science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), speculative fiction, star crossed lovers, a little mystery-ish, artist sungchan ➥ author’s note: omg i’m sooo excited for this one! had a lot of fun with the worldbuilding and such, and as always, with characterizing sungchan. unfortunately due to tumblr’s 1000 block limit (which was created to hurt me personally), i had to do some modifications to this in order to make it fit (i was like 150 blocks over and really didn’t want to split it into two parts for no reason). if you want the authentic, unadulterated experience with original formatting and one extra scene, i highly, highly recommend reading it on ao3

To your horror, the string completed itself, connecting seamlessly to the pinky of the stranger in front of you. The young man looked at you with wonderment, a wide smile coming to his features, brightness and recognition in them. He opened his mouth, presumably to say hello, or whatever soulmates did when they met, but before he could utter anything, you dropped the book and took off at a run.

Humming along to your music, you watched the city pass by, felt the bus start and stop, and were vaguely aware of the same passengers as always getting on and off. You took the same bus every day, Monday through Friday, as you had for the past two years, since you’d been promoted and moved to better accommodations that you could afford with your new pay.

There were regulars on your commute, such as the elderly couple who got on one stop after you on the first Monday every month, and got off at the stop that you knew was closest to the art museum. They sat in the row behind you, and explained to you once that they had been passholders at the museum for years, and that was when new exhibits were rotated in. Or in the front of the bus, a pair of sisters that you had inadvertently seen grow up over the years, who got on some time before your stop, and got off two stops before you in the morning, close to a nearby private school. You could sometimes hear the older one helping the younger with homework, or making last-minute fixes to her hair or uniform.

There were of course lots of office workers as well, who all rushed on and off the bus with promptness at their stops. You recalled fondly the primary school teacher who used to sit next to you, young and always dressed in fun, colorful prints. She had blurted out one morning that she was pregnant, and you were the first person she was telling, even before her husband. She didn’t know how to tell him yet, but was so excited and had to share the news with somebody, even a stranger that she only knew for a few minutes a day on the bus. You’d watched over the months as she started to show, then told you one morning she was just going on a short maternity leave to have her baby boy but would be back sooner than you’d know. She never got back on again. You hoped her son was beautiful and healthy, and still thought of them every so often when you’d look up and pass by her stop.

And then there was you. You sometimes wondered what they thought of you, if any of them did. It would be strange if they didn’t have at least a passing opinion of you. Not because you yourself did anything remarkable on your daily commute. You got on, took the same seat every day, listened to your music with your headphones in, and got off at the same stop. But no matter how normal your routine was, how quaint your occasional conversations with your fellow commuters were, there was something that set you apart.

As signified by the strawberry red jumpsuit you donned five days a week, you worked at The Soulmate Factory. It was technically called the Bureau of Interpersonal Affairs, but everyone just called it The Soulmate Factory, even the employees. Not the most popular place to work, but the work that was done there had to be done nevertheless. All Factory employees were ineligible for matching, in order to maintain the integrity of the Bureau’s image. Your family could never understand why you’d accept a position there; never getting a soulmate of your own, never getting the one person destined for you. But you didn’t see it like that. It’s not like you could never fall in love, find a partner to spend your life with, or be fulfilled in any millions of other ways.

The bus jerked to a stop again, and the doors swung open. You stood up and hurried off. You were the only passenger to depart here, as usual. A building loomed in the distance, all flashing windows and pink marble. Following in a few other coworkers in matching red jumpsuits, you hurried up the stairs, catching up to a familiar head of hair on the way up.

“Morning, Jaemin!” You chirped, nudging his arm with yours as you fell into step with him.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Morning!” He offered you a bright smile, stepping off at the same floor as you and walking over to your neighboring desks.

“Hey, did you ever read that book I leant you?” You asked, dropping your backpack off at your desk before heading for the breakroom together. There was always a quiet buzz in the morning that you liked, when everybody was still mellow from waking up, but excited to start the day.

He hissed regretfully, a sheepish smile already coming to his face, telling you everything you needed to know, “Well...”

“You haven’t touched it since the day I gave it to you.”

“I’m going to! Promise!”

“It’s coming up on my re-read list,” you warned him, starting a fresh pot of coffee. “I only have like four books ahead of it. That gives you like, four weeks max.”

“You need to rot your brain with some TV or something.” He shook his head teasingly, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling down a box of cereal.

“Hey, isn’t that—”

“Na Jaemin, if you value your life, you’ll put that box down now.” The stern voice of Huang Renjun cracked through the air.

Jaemin turned around, hiding the box behind his back as he offered your other coworker a sickly sweet smile. “What box?”

“Come here, you son of a—”

“Hey, let’s not commit homicide before the weekly agenda meeting, maybe?” You suggested loudly over their squabbling, as Renjun had just grabbed Jaemin by the collar. “Because I’m pretty sure if you kill Jaemin, they’ll just reassign you his work, Renjun. Might want to see what your workload is like first.”

Renjun yanked the box of cereal out of Jaemin’s hand then, holding it to his chest protectively and scowling. “Fine. You better hope that you’re on data synthesis, Jaemin.”

He walked out still clutching the box to his chest.

“He’s just going to eat it dry by the fistful, isn’t he?” You sighed, starting to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

“Definitely,” Jaemin confirmed. “And I’m suddenly really wanting to do some data synthesis this week.”

After getting dismissed from the weekly agenda meeting—during which Jaemin was assigned data synthesis, and Renjun got profile compiling—you headed back to your desks. You weren’t assigned anything because your job was the same every day. You were on a very specific career trajectory at The Soulmate Factory after showing promise in the typical six months of entry-level training for new employees. Following those six months, your fellow trainees went on to start their jobs, while you went through an additional two and a half years of specialized training for your position: matchmaking.

You didn’t sit down at your computer when you got back to your desk, simply placing your nearly empty coffee cup on it before taking off down the hall to the room in which you actually did most of your work.

Swiping your badge at the access panel, the door clicked to unlock, and you pushed it open. There were a couple of other matchmakers already in there, who didn’t offer you a single glance or any indication that they were even aware of your presence. Sitting at your station, you were face-to-face with a quaintly archaic-looking computer. Compared to the newest monitors at every desk in the main bullpen, which could display images in a resolution so crisp it was hard to tell the difference between that and real life, the small, square glass and pixelated text that was in front of you seemed so out of place. But this was the system. Pressing the Enter button on your keyboard, your screen came to life, already giving you your first match.

N!#83LPd5D4ZR$PYQ^KLT6WnY##4GYVm74v^f@96#q#hheeRYgLLf3Ft9KQw

‘Matchmaker’ was a misnomer, really. You didn’t set people up to be soulmates whatsoever. The computer gave you the results, all you did was read them. Take the seemingly random string of letters, numbers, and characters, and parse out the meaning. Your training consisted of watching other matchmakers work, then trying your hand at doing some on your own, being told that you were wrong or right, with no explanation as to why either way—until you stopped getting them wrong. And whenever it would be your turn to train a matchmaker, that would be exactly how you’d train them. Because there was no way to tell them what exactly you were seeing, or how to do it. They just had to do. The longest part was looking up the profile numbers in the program, selecting them, and sending off the match results. As soon as you submitted that one, your next match came up.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

Your body moved as if by itself, in understanding with the machine, the program. The matchmakers often talked about entering a sort of trance when working, becoming one mind with the computer, completely unaware of their surroundings, time, or bodily needs. Only the next match. That’s why all of your screens had to be simultaneously forced into a shut-off at lunchtime, or else none of you would take a lunch break, then again at the end of the workday.

Blinking a few times to readjust from the hours spent interfacing with the program, you looked around you at the other matchmakers slowly getting up from their seats as well. With a sigh, you stood up and shuffled out after them. Jaemin was still at his desk when you got back to yours, fervently clacking away at his keyboard. You grabbed your coffee mug, went to wash it out in the breakroom and set it up to dry, then returned to your desk. Swallowing in an attempt to wet your dry throat, you asked him, “So how was your thrilling day of data synthesis?”

“Not over yet,” he groaned, scrolling down in his spreadsheet. “Hey, wait up a minute, would you?”

Checking the time on your watch, you nodded. “My bus doesn��t come for another twenty-five. They let us out early again.”

“Yeah, I heard the Director on the phone to somebody a while ago. He sounded pissed. Apparently, there’s some concerns over the Factory’s energy usage. They must be cutting you guys a few minutes early every day to try to help since you still use old hardware, right?”

“Mm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, could be.”

“You’d think we’d be the one agency that wouldn’t be hit with budget cuts,” he scoffed, clicking a few things before his monitor displayed the login screen again. He spun around in his chair, giving you a wide smile. “Alright, ready?”

“Sure.” You grabbed your backpack from your seat. Jaemin and you headed down the stairs, awash in pinks and oranges from the sunset streaming in from outside.

“So, I already know what the answer is going to be, but I have to be able to say that I asked, alright?” Your coworker began, making you scrunch up your face in confusion. “My sister wanted me to ask if you’ve done hers yet? Na Minhee?”

You sighed, “Jaemin, you know I don’t know any of that—” “I know—” “—it’s all just… stuff. And you’ve compiled profiles, those are completely anonymous.”

“I know, I know,” he reassured you. “I just needed to be able to tell her that I asked, and that’s what you said. She wouldn’t take my word for it.”

“She’d know if hers has already been done, anyway.” You held up your hand, wiggling your pinky finger. “Why ask you?”

“Because she’s impatient.”

“Well, I can’t help her.” You shrugged. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

“I’ll tell her that. Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem, dude.”

“When does your bus come?”

You checked the time again. “Fifteen minutes or so.”

“You want me to wait with you?” He offered, looking around the empty bus stop. “Kind of dark.”

“I’m alright, thanks. Go break your sister’s heart, champ.” You gave him a mock punch on the shoulder.

On your own again, you took your phone and headphones out, popping one earbud in your ear as you went to choose your playlist. As you scrolled, tapped, and swiped through your phone to try to pick the perfect song, some fuzz fell from your jumpsuit onto your right pinky finger, and you absentmindedly shook it off as your focus stayed on your music library. But it was stubborn, and the red fleck didn’t budge. You wiped the digit on your pants, eyes on where you had finally gotten the perfect choice, the song starting up as you lifted your now-clean hand back up.

Except it was still there. You looked at your hand for the first time, really looked at it, and felt your stomach drop. A thin, bright red string, the same color as your jumpsuit, was tied around your right pinky finger, just above the juncture where the finger met your hand. The string hung off in the air, becoming transparent and disappearing altogether less than a finger’s length away. You turned your hand over, palm to back to palm to back, and the string moved with it, the end fluttering with each of your movements. Stupidly, you tried to grab it, as if to pull it off, but when you took hold of the silken thread and gave it a yank, it didn’t budge. For a split second, amputation came to mind, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away. There were stories of people losing fingers or entire limbs and their strings reappearing on the other hand, or in new places altogether if they had no hands at all.

You looked around for any of your coworkers. Nobody else except the two people on either end of the string could see it, but you still didn’t want anybody to be observing your behavior, and then have to try to explain said behavior right now. It was easy to explain why you were doing what you were doing—you just got a red string; but not how—you weren’t supposed to get one. Ever. The area around you was empty, the majority of your coworkers driving, taking the subway, or not having left work yet. You looked over your shoulder, at the pink marble building looming in the distance.

The squeal of brakes and hiss of compressed air as the doors of a bus were flung open made you turn around. Rushing up the steps onto the bus, you then plopped into your usual seat, keeping your backpack on your lap and instinctively tucking your right hand between the bag and your body to keep the string hidden. You didn’t know who could possibly be your soulmate now, you had to be vigilant. You didn’t relax until you were safely tucked away in your apartment, door locked behind you, no plans to see any other humans for the rest of the day.

The next morning, you kept your right hand hidden away as much as possible on your commute, in your pockets, behind your bag, under your thigh. You didn’t feel remotely safe until you were in the matchmaking room, at your station. Even then, it took you longer than normal to stop from looking at your pinky and actually focus on the first match up on your screen. Once you had, everything else faded away like usual, and you could only think about reading the matches.

vLZD%v7^XftyvnM6HcxszgUbT6EaPaza41tJtv%#HFby%5Y2rWdujYUj8X21

At lunch, you typically would’ve taken your packed lunch to a nearby public park to eat, but that was too risky. So you took it to the breakroom, sitting at the small table and taking out one of your books from your bag. A few other coworkers came in and out to use the microwave or retrieve their own lunch from the fridge, but nobody bothered you as you read. You finished your food rather quick, and found yourself a bit too distracted to focus on your book. The red string on your finger was back in the forefront of your mind. Checking the time, you saw that you still had over half of your break left. With a sigh, you shut your book and walked back over to your desk next to Jaemin’s.

The floor was pretty empty, only a couple of your coworkers left who either took early or later lunches. You turned on the desktop computer, waiting for it to start up before quickly signing on. Opening up the program where profiles were compiled to be fed into the matchmaking system, you chewed on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, clicking around on the controls. During the basic training you’d received over five years ago, you’d been shown how to compile and enter a profile into the database, and you obviously searched them up from your matchmaking station. But these were all profiles that hadn’t been matched yet, that didn’t have red strings. You needed to get into wherever the profiles that had been successfully matched were. If they were kept somewhere at all.

After poking around some more in the application, you determined that either you didn’t have the technical know-how to access that information, the administrative access to do so, or that information wasn’t stored in the first place. Exiting out of the program with a sigh, you dropped your chin into your palm, scrunching your eyes and nose up as you continued thinking. It felt like it was right there, right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t grab it for some reason. The weekly agenda meeting, something about the weekly agenda meeting—Jaemin was assigned data synthesis. They compiled information on all kinds of stuff regarding matched soulmates: average time to meet after the strings appear, get married, have kids, how many kids, length of time they’re together prior to death, the list goes on. That couldn’t come from nowhere. They had to keep track of soulmates somehow, right?

You quickly opened the Internet browser, going to the Bureau’s website and finding the ‘Studies and Statistics’ page. All of the things you were thinking about were there, complete with fancy little graphics. It didn’t tell you anything about where this stuff was stored internally, but this meant that it had to be, somehow, somewhere. Which meant that your match had to be somewhere, and if you could just find it, then you could—

What? Undo it somehow? It had to be possible. But first you had to find out how it happened in the first place, which meant laying eyes on the match itself, at least. You needed some kind of starting point, and that felt like as good as any.

At the end of the day, the matchmakers were let out early again, and you waited up at your desk as Jaemin was still working. He looked over his shoulder at you curiously. “You need something, Y/N? I don’t have your book, sorry.”

“No, I have a question. But you can finish your work first.”

He made an interested noise, and turned back to his screen. After entering a few more things into his spreadsheet, he pressed save, then exited out with a satisfied groan. He shut down his computer and leaned back, audibly cracking his back. “Fucking finally! If I ever have to look at another number again, I’ll walk into traffic.”

You chuckled as the two of you set off. “Data synthesis that bad?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed one of his eyes. “Anyway, what’d you want to ask me?”

“It was actually about data synthesis…”

“No!” He whined, shaking his head fervently.

“One question! One question!” You begged.

“Fine…”

“The data that you use, how do you get that? Like, where do you get it from?”

He looked at you, squinting with confusion. “From soulmates that have already been matched?”

“Then the Factory keeps records of matches after the strings have been triggered.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Where? Is it a separate database from the one that you enter new profiles into? Or is it part of the matchmaking program?”

“I mean, it’s probably its own thing? I don’t know, I get the numbers in my data synthesis project assignments. If I need more, or something different, I tell the project manager and he gets it for me.”

“Huh.” You kept the disappointment off your face, as well as curiosity. While he didn’t know a lot, what he didn’t know actually was helpful to you. “Okay, thanks.”

“That was more than one question.”

“Right, sorry.”

“What’s going on? Why the interest in data synthesis all of a sudden?”

“Just curious, since you guys seem to hate it so much.”

“It’s… mind-numbing, to say the least.”

“Here’s hoping next week you’re on profile compiling.”

“Fingers crossed,” he sighed. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

The next few days passed without incident. Your intervals of snooping around on your desktop computer during your lunch breaks were fruitless in finding wherever completed matches were stored, and soon it was Friday evening, and the work week was over. Not even a crisis like this could make you work late on a Friday. You realized when you got home that you were out of groceries, and ordered delivery to your apartment. Can’t risk someone at the restaurant being your soulmate.

Saturday morning you woke up and left early to go grocery shopping, hopefully before most anybody would be out and about. Well, before one person in particular would be awake—your soulmate. Only problem was, you didn’t know who that was, so you had to avoid pretty much everybody. As you walked through the streets keeping your hands crossed and tucked under your arms, you kept your head down, eyes focused only on your feet. If you couldn’t see anybody’s hands and couldn’t possibly see a red string, hopefully they wouldn’t see yours.

Except as you rushed through the streets, you passed by your favorite small bookstore, with its doors wide open, and a sign out front on the sidewalk advertising a huge sale, 70% off a table of books right by the doorway. You couldn’t help but stop—just for a second—to check it out, spotting a title by one of your favorite authors that you’d been meaning to read but hadn’t yet. Picking up the book to look at the price and turning it over in your hands to skim the blurb on the back, you were barely aware of the sounds of some young men playing with a Frisbee at the park across the street, their yells fading into the din of the waking city.

That was, until the purple, plastic disc came skittering across the pavement to a stop right at your feet, and a tall man jogged up after it, still calling to his friend over his shoulder, “Nice aim, Anton! You almost took this poor woman’s head off!”

You missed what his friend said in response as you were already looking up from the Frisbee with the intent to tell him that you were quite alright, then your eyes got caught on a thin red loop around his pinky finger. Snapping your gaze down to your own hand, which was still holding the book, then back to his as he stood now right in front of you, your eyes widened with alarm.

To your horror, the string completed itself, connecting seamlessly to the pinky of the stranger in front of you. The young man looked at you with wonderment, a wide smile coming to his features, brightness and recognition in them. He opened his mouth, presumably to say hello, or whatever soulmates did when they met, but before he could utter anything, you dropped the book and took off at a run. You sprinted away, turning down streets at random, until your legs were burning and you had a stitch in your side. Ducking around another shop, you hid behind the building to catch your breath, sure that you had lost him. Your heartbeat was thudding loudly in your ears, and you habitually tried to shake off that stupid, pesky red string again.

“Look—” A voice suddenly registering right over your shoulder made you jump and scramble back. The man had found you, holding his hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm a wild animal or a spooked horse. His chest was heaving as he was as out of breath as you were (presumably from running after you). There was a bewildered, confused look in his wide eyes as he kept himself between you and the only way out of the alley you had unintentionally backed yourself into. “I don’t normally chase women through the streets, sorry.”

You stayed silent as you looked between him and the exit. The red string hung between you, painfully obvious.

“I just… wanted to talk, you know,” he continued, gesturing to said string. “I’m Sungchan.”

You shook your head, clenching your jaw tightly to avoid making any kind of sound.

“What?” He tilted his head. “You… won’t tell me your name?”

You stared at him, unmoving.

“You know what, we got off on a bad foot, and clearly this is not a good time for you.” Sungchan stepped away from the alley entrance entirely. “Bye for now.”

Taking hesitant, shuffling steps, uncertain that he was actually going to let you leave, you kept your eyes laser focused on him until you were out of the alley, at which point you promptly booked it down the road again. You didn’t stop until you could no longer breathe, your legs shook and threatened to give out any second, and you had tears streaming down your face from the wind blowing into them.

That day you looked up how to get rid of a red string. You knew it was stupid, impossible to do at home. You literally worked at The Soulmate Factory, you were a matchmaker, for fuck’s sake, you were the one giving them out in the first place.

None of it worked, of course. Not meditating, praying, attempting to light it on fire, soaking your finger in a mixture of various oils and herbs from your spice cabinet, scrubbing really hard with the coarse side of a sponge, or crying for thirty minutes straight (that last one was just you being frustrated, no Internet listicle or sketchy guru suggested that). It was still there after everything, as pristine as when it appeared less than a week ago. Less than a week ago. Much faster than average, according to the statistics that you had just looked up the other day. The average time from getting the red string to meeting was seven months and eighteen days, with some taking several years. And yours just had to be within five days. You felt like you could cry again, if you didn’t already have a throbbing headache from how much you had done that earlier.

Now, you were sitting under the spray of your shower, holding your knees to your chest, trying not to look at it. You couldn’t look at your finger, at the red string, but if you closed your eyes, you just saw his face—Sungchan.

On Monday, you continued your investigation with renewed vigor. When you swiped into the matchmaking room, you didn’t go to your station, instead you headed for the back, where there was a short flight of stairs up to an office. Knocking on the door, you waited for the familiar voice inside to beckon you in.

“Come in.”

Pushing your way in, you nodded politely to your supervisor, “Good morning, Ms. Kwon.”

“Good morning, Y/N.” She brought her hands down from where they had been poised over her keyboard to rest in her lap. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” you lied. “How are you?”

“Fine. What brings you to my office this morning?”

“I… have sort of a weird question, if that’s alright.”

She gestured to the two chairs opposite her. “Of course.”

You sat in one, making a conscious effort to keep your knee from bouncing nervously.

“What is your question?” She prompted you.

“There’s never any mistakes, right?”

“Mistakes? No, you’re all trained right.” Ms. Kwon arched an eyebrow. “Do you think you’ve made a mistake, Y/N?”

“No, not the matchmakers. I mean… the computer does whatever it does with the information it’s given, right? That we collect?” You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “What if… it gets the wrong information? Wouldn’t it all be wrong if it’s given the wrong stuff in the first place?”

“The profiles we compile are extremely rudimentary, and that isn’t all the information it uses. The computer does more than we can ever know.”

“But what if… there’s an extra profile in there that was never supposed to be in there?”

“Like a person that doesn’t exist? How would a fake person even get created in the first place?”

“No I mean like—You know how Factory employees are taken out of the program? What if somehow, someone got missed? Like, their match happened right before their first day or something crazy. So they got matched up when they weren’t supposed to.”

“I’ve never heard of that happening.” She shook her head, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs at the knee. “As soon as we receive someone’s application, their profile is removed from the program. If they’re not hired, their profile is put back in. If they are hired, the data is permanently destroyed.”

“Where’s it stored when it’s temporarily removed during the application process, then?”

She didn’t answer your question, her face turning concerned instead of simply confused as before. “Y/N, what’s going on? Do you know of a Factory employee who’s been matched up?”

You shook your head, trying not to deny it too quickly or with too much fervor. “No, I just—Got a brain itch about it, I don’t know. Seems too… uncertain.”

“I can assure you, no Factory employee has ever been matched up. Accidentally or otherwise,” she replied smoothly, a reassuring smile coming to her features. “You can rest easy; no mistakes are made here.”

“Can you just… answer my question? Please?” You pleaded, picking at your nails to avoid messing with your pinky. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“Alright, to soothe your brain itch,” she agreed, sounding amused. “It’s another list in the profiles database that we import into your matchmaking program, except only personnel with a certain clearance can view, add, and remove profiles from the list. Once a round of interviews has been completed, the applicants on the list are either marked as hired or not. If they’re marked as hired, their profile information is permanently destroyed upon their first day of training. If they’re marked as not, it’s returned to the main database that everyone has access to.”

“One more thing?”

“Sure.”

“Once a match is made, where does that information go? Like, the reports, the profiles, is it stored anywhere?”

“We maintain all of those records in another program. Those with higher clearance have access to it, for security purposes, since profiles are de-anonymized in it. Data synthesis uses them for reports frequently.”

“Okay, thanks.” You offered her a feigned, relieved smile, then tacked on a quick fib, “Just wanted a little refresh, in case we got any new hires anytime soon.”

“Already looking to train, Y/N?”

“Oh, maybe…” You laughed nervously, as if shy about being caught with your eye on a promotion already and not anxious from having to discretely interrogate your supervisor.

“You always were ambitious. And wanting to learn more about the program and the Bureau… I like it.” Ms. Kwon nodded her approval. “Feel free to ask about any other brain itches you get, okay?”

“Right, thanks.” You stood up, giving her a polite bow. “I should get to my station. Thank you again, ma’am.”

As you hurried down to your matchmaking station, you easily came to the realization of what you’d need to do next. There was no way you’d be able to just wait until you were promoted to a position with high enough security clearance for the post-matched program, that sounded like it would be people of Ms. Kwon’s position and above. You’d have to get into the program using one of their access points. Somehow. But you didn’t have time to brainstorm a plan for that at the moment, you had matches to read. You sank down into the comfortable, posture-saving chair, and let your mind mesh with the computer as the first one loaded up on the screen.

The next day, you waited at your bus stop, leaning against the shelter and eating your apple one-handed. Pedestrians would occasionally pass by, but your area was mainly young families, so most residents drove their children to daycare or school, then either returned home, or went to work themselves. There was the occasional parent who would jog by with a stroller, or pulling a stroller hitched to the back of a bicycle, but for the most part it was just you and your apple, which you were nearly done with. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a lone jogger approaching, and took a step back to allow him to pass, eyes still down on your phone and apple as your bus hadn’t arrived yet. Except this jogger slowed to a stop in front of you. You followed the red string from the hand that held your apple core up to a somewhat familiar face, looking down at you in mild confusion.

He was admittedly sweatier now, pieces of hair curling and sticking to the skin at his hairline, and his t-shirt sported a damp spot starting at his collar going down the middle of his chest. But this was definitely Sungchan, as signified by the red string connecting your right pinky to his left. He lifted the hem of his shirt to quickly pat drops of sweat away from his face and took one of his earbuds out as he offered you an easygoing smile.

“Hi. Feeling better?” He asked, his tone light and teasing.

“Why are you here?” You practically snapped. You thought you’d be safe at your bus stop of all places, which you were at every day. You knew your neighborhood, the people on your bus, but he still somehow showed up. “I-I take the same bus every day, at the same time, and I’ve never seen you jogging in the morning!”

“Oh, yeah, I stayed at my sister’s place last night, she lives around here.” Sungchan casually gestured over his shoulder at the general vicinity. “So I had to take a different route than normal for my morning run. You live in this area?”

You stared at him, jaw clenched.

“Sorry, probably sounded a little weird asking you that, huh?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, it’s just that you said you’re at this same bus stop every day at the same time, so I figured you, uhm… never mind. I’m Jung Sungchan, I realized I didn’t properly introduce myself last time. I’d offer my hand or hug you or something but I’m a bit sweaty…”

Taking a deep breath, you tried to think of how to politely phrase the everything you had to tell him, but he just kept talking.

“I’d like to uh, you know, know your name, too. Since we’re uhm, you know… soulmates? And uh—”

“Sungchan!” You cut him off, and he immediately shut his mouth. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know my name.”

“What? What are you talking about? But we’re—”

“I’m not supposed to have a soulmate!” You gestured wildly to your uniform. “This was a mistake! An error! I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have ever happened. I’ll get it fixed, okay? I’ll figure out how to undo it, and make sure you get put back in.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I thought the Factory didn’t make mistakes.”

“The computer doesn’t. But somehow, somebody must have put a paper in the wrong stack, or not deleted something when they should’ve, I don’t know! But I’ll fix it.”

The bus finally arrived then with its usual screech of brakes and hiss of the pneumatic doors, and you stepped away from Sungchan towards it.

“I have to go.” You told him with finality, tossing your apple core in a nearby trashcan and boarding the bus without waiting to hear if he had something else to say.

Without having to avoid the entire world now, you actually took your lunch today. But as soon as you stepped outside of the building and turned from the front doors, you spotted a familiar tall figure standing awkwardly off to the side, no longer in sweaty running gear. You made a beeline for Sungchan, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the most secluded corner of the open space as you could, away from all your coworkers who were heading off to take their own break.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed at him, constantly glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear you two.

His face did look genuinely regretful, though exasperated at the same time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to find you.”

“Why are you trying to find me?”

He held up his left pinky. You pushed it back down. “I’m working on it!”

“No, I—” He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face. “Can we like… I don’t know, talk, or something?”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think I should get a say in you undoing this?”

You inhaled sharply. “You’re right, Sungchan. I’m sorry. We should talk.”

“Finally, thank you.”

Checking the time for a moment, you then offered, “I have fifty-five minutes left of my lunch break. Do you want to join me?”

“Sure, sure.”

You led him away from The Soulmate Factory, along a familiar path. There was a riverside public park nearby, and on days when you packed your lunch, and it was nice out, you would eat outside.

Sungchan broke the silence, “Will you ever tell me your name?”

“Y/N. Y/L/N Y/N,” you informed him flatly. “Happy?”

“Y/N,” he repeated, as if savoring your name. “Okay, thanks.”

The park was only a couple minutes’ walk, and you had a very specific destination in mind once you two got there.

“I packed a lunch today, sorry,” you said quietly, sitting down on the wall overlooking the river, your feet swinging in the air.

Sungchan sat down next to you. “That’s fine. I can grab something later.”

Opening your lunch bag, you grabbed your sandwich and held out half to him. He accepted it gingerly. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t figured out how to undo it yet, but I can enter a profile into the program easy, so once I do undo it, don’t worry about me putting you back in. You’ll be all set,” you reassured him, taking a bite.

“You’re still talking like this is a done deal. Undoing it.”

“I’d be fixing someone’s mistake, Sungchan. That’s what you do at work. When you see a piece of paper is misfiled, or a decimal is in the wrong place, or a typo on a presentation, you fix it, even if you didn’t do it.”

“It’s just… human error?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all that’s happened here, you think?”

“Whoever was supposed to take my profile out didn’t for some reason, and the computer got it when it wasn’t supposed to,” you confirmed emphatically.

“How does it work, the program? And the profiles, and the computer? All of it?” He questioned.

You gave him as simplified of a version as you could, “Profiles and a bunch of other data points get put into the program, which imports them into the computer. The computer spits out the resulting matches, I—we, matchmakers read them and submit the match reports, triggering the red strings.”

“So it wasn’t given any incorrect information about you or me? Nobody tampered with the system to force it to match us, or falsified a match?”

“No, you can’t do that. It’s impossible.”

“The only hiccup, in your opinion, was that it was given your data at all.”

“Yes, Factory employees aren’t allowed to—”

“Whose rule is that?”

“The Bureau—”

“So, it’s literally just bureaucracy?”

“I like my job,” you huffed, frustrated that he wasn’t seeing the blatantly obvious mistake that had happened. “It’s a rule for a reason. Factory employees are taken out of the program so the public doesn’t think employees are rigging their matches.”

“Can’t rig your soulmate if you don’t get one,” he scoffed.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You say that like having one would be the worst thing in the world!” Sungchan replied incredulously.

“It is for me! Because do you know what would happen if people at the Bureau found out this happened?” You looked at him with wide, pointed eyes. “Just losing my job would probably be the best outcome. And who knows what would happen to you!”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, Sungchan. I’m sure you had imagined all of this, your red string, and the person at the other end of it, going a lot different. And I’m sure it will, when I fix everything.” You stood up, cutting your conversation and lunch short. “Don’t come to my work again, okay? For both our sakes.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry,” he muttered, looking out at the water.

Back at the Factory, you finished eating your lunch at your desk, then shuffled back to the matchmaking room. After swiping in, you realized that you were pretty early, the first one back. Curious, you peered up at Ms. Kwon’s office. She was in there, of course. No way would you be able to attempt to use her computer to access the higher-clearance data. You sank into the chair at your station with a deep sigh. Drumming your fingers along the desktop, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’d have to wait for the others to get back from lunch for the power to be returned to the screens. In the meantime, you could just ruminate.

“Y/N?” Ms. Kwon’s voice came from the direction of her office. “Back so soon?”

You opened your eyes back up, turning to look at her. You nodded sheepishly. “Quick eater…”

“I feel like I’ve seen you in the breakroom with a book before. Nothing today?”

“Forgot it at home.”

“Alright, well… have fun, I suppose.” She turned to go back into her office.

“There’s no way to undo a match, is there?” You blurted out, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back around to look at you curiously as you continued, “Once we press submit on the computer, that’s it?”

Ms. Kwon cocked her head, leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs. “You should’ve been told this in training… No, there isn’t a way to ‘undo’ a match. We aren’t even matching them, just reporting on what the computer says. All the reports do is trigger the strings. The two people are soulmates regardless of the computer. We just intervene so they can find each other.”

You gulped and nodded. “Of course. I knew that… I… I don’t know. Thank you, Ms. Kwon.”

“Another brain itch?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you forced out a couple of chuckles to cover up the dread you felt on the inside.

“Alright. Remember, ‘The Soulmate Factory’ isn’t very accurate. We don’t make soulmates here, they’re already out there.”

“Right, yeah. Terrible nickname, huh?”

She shrugged. “It’s cute. Good for branding. I’ve got a few things to work on, unless you have any other burning questions for me?”

“No, Ms. Kwon, that’s it. Thank you, again.”

“No problem, Y/N.” And with that, she retreated into her office once more.

Dragging your feet back out to your desk at the end of the workday, you chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating pretending to have extra work so you could stay late and try to sneak onto Ms. Kwon’s computer to access the matched profiles. But her office was behind a door with swipe access, it would log that you swiped in after hours. A digital breadcrumb trail.

“Hey,” Jaemin got your attention as you sat in your chair and stared at your screen. You spun your chair around to look at him, lifting your eyebrows in a silent question. “Who was that guy?”

Your blood turned cold. “Huh? Who? When? What guy?”

“Oh now that wasn’t suspicious,” he snorted. “The guy that was waiting for you at lunch whose ass you looked like you were about to kick.”

Oh God. Jaemin saw Sungchan. Who else saw him? You had to assume everybody. You stood up from your chair hastily, fully intent on running away. “Just—Nobody, it doesn’t matter.”

Jaemin gasped, then dropped his voice, “Y/N, you didn’t...”

“Didn’t what?” You squeaked, now ready to stick around. You had to know what he knew, which was obviously the truth.

“You totally did.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Never a good idea, getting involved with people who are destined, even if they don’t have their string yet. Because one day they will.”

Of course. He thought, perfectly reasonably, that you had dated, slept with, done something with somebody who was going to get their red string someday, while you would remain without it forever. You swallowed down your sigh of relief, and instead crossed your arms over your chest, quickly switching trains of thought to follow this new cover story.

“And that’s what I told him, Jaemin, I swear,” you whispered insistently.

Your friend finished up and switched off his desktop then, giving you a frank look. “How many times, Y/N?”

“I told him like a hundred times—”

“No. You know what I mean.”

You hurried down the stairs, Jaemin right with you, rolling your eyes as you tried to think of a number that wasn’t excessive, but messy enough to possibly warrant a guy turning up at your work. “I don’t know... a few! A girl’s got needs, Jaemin!”

He chuckled and shook his head again, pushing the front door open for you. He turned suddenly, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning you around to face the building with him, then gestured grandly up and down the entirety of The Soulmate Factory. “A whole ten floors to pick from, Y/N. No messy red strings to worry about after.”

“Yeah, just awkward encounters at work,” you scoffed.

“I heard Park Jisung on the second floor thinks you’re cute.”

“What is this? Middle school?” You elbowed him to get him off of you, ducking out from under his arm and taking off towards your bus stop at a speed walk.

He easily kept pace with you. “I’m just looking out for you. Rule Number 1 of dating with no soulmate: Stay away from people with one.”

“Uh-huh, noted,” you replied shortly. “You done?”

“Are you?”

“Yes! God!”

“Alright.” He was still grinning, clearly finding the whole scenario amusing overall. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Bye, Jaemin.”

A couple nights later found you rooting through the frozen section of a corner store. You’d gotten home from work after yet another day of getting nowhere with this stupid red string and had wanted nothing more than to wallow in misery with a pint of ice cream. Except you had none in your freezer, and your usual corner store was out of your favorite flavor, so you had to go to one several blocks over.

After paying for the ice cream and grabbing a plastic spoon from the available utensils, you hurried out of the shop. Turning sharply onto a side street to take a shortcut back to your apartment, you nearly tripped over somebody sitting on the sidewalk curb, their feet in the street. They were wearing a hoodie with the hood up, and you jumped back as you went to apologize. Then they looked at you over their shoulder, and you stopped your apologies, flabbergasted and a little pissed off at the universe at this point.

“Oh my god, again?” You stared at Sungchan, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Okay, ouch,” he retorted. He had his own pint of ice cream and plastic spoon in hand, about two-thirds of the way done.

“Sorry, I was just… I wanted to drown my sorrowsin ice cream alone.”

He turned away from you, resting his arms on his knees as he went back to looking down at the pavement. “Well, I’ve got dibs on this street corner for sadly eating ice cream.”

You winced. “Sungchan… I’m…”

Sorry? Was that it? Not for wanting to undo the string. Sorry that this all happened to him in the first place, and that he was now sadly eating ice cream by himself on a street corner? Absolutely. Even though you wanted to remove your red string that connected you two as soulmates, you still felt for the guy as a person, and you felt bad just leaving him here. In a different set of circumstances, you could see the two of you being friends. Against your better judgment, you sat down next to him on the curb, opening your pint of ice cream. He looked at you suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, and you caught a glimpse of his damp, bloodshot eyes in the light of the streetlamp above you two before he focused them back down on his own ice cream.

He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth before speaking again. “We’re going to keep running into each other, don’t you get that?”

“Yeah, I know, the string always gets tighter again. But I didn’t think our string would be like a fucking rubber band.” You shook your head, licking the lid of your container clean. “Honestly, this is kind of ridiculous.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as he ate another bite of ice cream.

“The computer doesn’t make mistakes.” He stated bluntly. “That’s what you said the second time we met. Do you actually think that? That what goes on in there is making soulmates? Finding them? Whatever.”

“I-I mean, yeah.” You carefully carved out your first spoonful from the pristine surface. “We do analytics and data gathering post-matching and… yeah, it works.”

He was quiet as you took your bite of ice cream into your mouth.

“Then we’re soulmates.”

You couldn’t swallow quickly enough, mind reeling at you tried to think of anything to say. “But my profile—”

“Whatever may have happened before the computer got our data doesn’t fucking matter, it still did all the same stuff that it does when giving you all the matches that you read,” Sungchan cut you off, and you saw a fresh tear catch the light as it rolled down his cheek. “And it figured that we were soulmates. But suddenly you’re doubting it? Suddenly it’s not right? What’s so fucking special about you?”

“I…”

“Has somebody’s profile even been through the computer twice? Ever? And you want to just stick me back in there. What if it rejects me because it already processed me once? What if I don’t get another match? What if it breaks the whole damn program? The whole fucking Factory?” He wasn’t yelling, but his voice was strong and hoarse at the same time, and you froze up as you felt the anger and hurt in him.

You didn’t have an answer for him. You always had an answer. You always knew, at work, when reading the matches, you just always knew, but you didn’t now. You had nothing, it was all blank, empty in your mind. You swallowed thickly, staring at him as he looked over at you furiously. White hot shame and guilt made your skin prickle.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

Sungchan put his pint down on the pavement, then covered your hands with his. Even as you held onto your ice cream, you could feel that his skin was colder than yours. “I’m trying to understand you, Y/N, but this isn’t making any sense to me.”

“I thought I’d have a choice,” you told him shakily, slowly pulling your hands away. “I thought I’d be able to choose…”

He blinked, and his face twisted up with pain as he took his hands back. He grabbed his nearly empty carton, standing up and blotting out the lamp light as he towered over you.

“Trust me, you’ve got a choice. A big one.” He sighed bitterly, tossing his container in a nearby trash can. “I’ve said my piece. Goodnight.”

“Where are you going?” You called after him as he started down the sidewalk.

“Somewhere. When you’re ready, you know how to find me.” He lifted his left arm up and waved his hand, his end of the red string fluttering back and forth in the air with the movement.

You watched him continue to walk down the street, not slowing down or looking over his shoulder once. It was only when you could no longer see him that scalding tears welled up in your vision and stung your eyes. You didn’t bother wiping them away as they streamed down your face and fell onto your shirt, leaving dark patches in their wake. Despite the ice cream being your original intent for coming out, you suddenly didn’t have an appetite, burying your face in your arms to cry alone on the curb.

What’s so fucking special about you?

Sungchan’s words were still in the squeal of the bus brakes in the morning, and the hum of strangers’ conversations, and the shuffle of leaves as the wind shook tree branches. You stared at the grooves of the hardwood floor in the breakroom, hearing his voice in the gurgle of the coffee machine as it ran on the counter behind you. You didn’t even need your usual morning cup, still wide awake, as you had been all night. Fingers snapped in front of your eyes, and you lazily dragged your gaze up to the owner of the hand, Renjun.

“You look like shit,” he deadpanned.

You took a long, deep sigh, not even having enough in you to react to the comment as you usually would. “Do you ever think about your soulmate, Renjun?”

“Uh… no?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Because I don’t have one? Remember?”

“I know, Factory employees get taken out of the program. But doesn’t that mean that the computer is really working with incomplete data or whatever? Since it doesn’t actually have every single person in there?”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he seemed to think about this for a moment. “I guess.”

“If we were all in there, we’d get matched up with somebody. Our soulmate. We’re not all in there, but whoever we would be matched with still is. So they just… get their second-best match?”

“What is it that matchmaking lady always says? ‘The computer does more than we’ll ever know?’”

“Ms. Kwon?”

“Yeah, her.” He nodded, turning around to get his cereal down from the cabinet. He answered your question over his shoulder, “No, I’ve never thought about this, Y/N. But you have clearly been doing a lot of thinking about it.”

“Too much,” you groaned. “My head hurts.”

Your coworker’s voice was a bit softer as he offered, “You, me, and Jaemin—Drinks after work?”

After work you ended up on a rooftop bar with Jaemin and Renjun, nursing your second beer of the night as you stared out at the lights of the city. The two of them were chatting about some movie that was coming out this weekend that they were interested in, and all three of you had your feet kicked up on the ledge of the rooftop.

In a lull in their conversation, a finger poked your head from the left. “What’s wrong?” Jaemin asked.

You sighed. “It’s… ugh.”

Another finger poked the right side of your head. “Come on,” Renjun insisted. “You’ve been weird all week.”

You took a swig of your drink, then let out another deep sigh. “Why did you guys start working at the Factory?”

“What?” Renjun scoffed lightly, as if he couldn’t imagine why you’d even ask that.

“Why did you start working at the Factory?” You repeated. “I mean, accepting a life without a soulmate.”

“My parents met at the Factory, actually,” Jaemin said.

“Wait, really?” You turned to him curiously. You knew that Factory employees dating each other wasn’t off-limits, and theoretically that meant they could settle down and have lives sort of like soulmates, but you’d never heard much about it actually happening.

“Yeah, they weren’t soulmates. So it was one of those things where, I don’t know, I got to grow up knowing that there was another way to live.” Jaemin shrugged casually. “I didn’t even really think about the no-soulmate thing when I applied, they just always talked about how much they loved their jobs, it sounded like a cool place to work.”

“I applied at a bunch of different places, this is the first one that called me back,” Renjun gave his own answer.

“Why did you start working here?” Jaemin turned your question back on you.

You tapped your fingernail against the side of your bottle. “Pay’s not bad… And I didn’t… hate the idea of having a say in my love life, you know? Instead of this string showing up one day and telling me who I’m supposed to be with forever. Getting to choose on my own.”

“Sounds like you don’t think the computer knows what it’s doing,” Renjun snorted.

“No, it does! It does! I just… didn’t mind the idea of never knowing.”

Jaemin furrowed his brow curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Like… I can wake up tomorrow and have cereal, or eggs, or buy breakfast on my way into work. There could be someone new on my bus in the morning. I can get a haircut, or dye my hair. It could rain tomorrow, or be sunny, or overcast. Life is always in flux, always changing, new, different.”

“Knowing who your soulmate is, would be too… certain?”

“Some people like having that constant in their life,” Renjun pointed out. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“I don’t know, like what if you get your soulmate and they kind of suck? Then you kind of have to ask yourself what did you do to deserve someone who kind of sucks? Because that’s literally the best you can do,” you ranted, gesturing around to the night sky with your bottle. “At least without a string, there’s always a chance that there’s someone better out there.”

“Ah, you’ve got the Boy Scout mindset,” Jaemin said knowingly. “Just in case. Just in case it rains, I’ll bring an umbrella. Just in case whoever you’re seeing now kind of sucks, you can always try again.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, since you don’t have a string.”

“Very polite way to say she has commitment issues, Jaemin,” Renjun snickered.

“Rude!” You smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

He wasn’t dissuaded by your minor battery, however. Bringing his two feet back down to the ground, he leaned his elbows forward on his knees and looked over at you, “Sounds like to me, you want infinite second chances. Just in case.”

“There’s only so many of us at the Factory, really,” Jaemin pointed out. “Wouldn’t a soulmate actually be infinite second chances? Since you know you’re destined to be with them, you can kind of mess up as often as you want?”

You frowned, thinking of Sungchan walking away from you. “You really think so? I mean, they’re still a person. Wouldn’t they stop putting up with you after so long? Even if they were your soulmate, I’m sure being alone would be better than having a shit soulmate.”

“Well, then you have to ask: What is a soulmate? Just the best you can do? Or someone who’s going to make you better? Is there such a thing as a shit soulmate?”

“There has to be, right? There’s bad people, and those people have soulmates.”

“Are they bad forever? Are they bad people to their soulmates? Or do they also have shit people for soulmates? So, relative to each other, they don’t even realize that they have a shit soulmate?”

“My head hurts again…” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples.

A long silence passed as you three each finished off your beers. Renjun shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grunt. “Thank God we’ll never know, huh?”

Your Saturday was spent walking. Walking all over town, from your apartment to your bus stop, to the park where Sungchan had been playing Frisbee before, to the corner store where you’d last seen him, and everywhere in between. You kept your head on a swivel, straining for any sign of his tall head over the crowd. But you couldn’t see him anywhere.

When you finally gave up mid-afternoon and went back to your apartment for a late lunch, you knew that you were actually relieved that you hadn’t found him today. If you had ran into him, you didn’t even know what you’d say, where to start, where to end, what to say in the middle. Your head was a jumbled mess, simultaneously too full and too empty. There was no way you’d be able to articulate a single comprehensible word when you yourself didn’t know a shred about anything that you were thinking or feeling.

Sunday you were kept busy with Sungchan’s lingering question. What’s so special about you?

In the moment, it felt like he was asking why you thought you were special enough to be exempt from something that everyone else experienced: getting a red string and finding their soulmate. But as you went about mindless chores in your apartment, doing the dishes, folding laundry, you thought about him.

What’s so special about Sungchan? What would make him your soulmate? And you wondered if he was asking himself the same questions about you.

Monday morning you almost missed your bus. You’d been so distracted going about your morning routine that you ran straight from your apartment building onto the bus, the doors closing right after you. The elderly couple was on today, and you plopped into your seat in front of them, offering them a breathless smile and greeting.

“Tough morning, dear?” The woman asked you knowingly.

“Oh, a bit,” you laughed. “Tough couple of weeks, honestly. But I’ll make it. What’s the new exhibit for this month?”

“It’s a contemporary artist who does large-scale mixed media collages,” the husband explained.

“That sounds so cool! Is there a particular theme for the collection on display or it more eclectic?”

“Oh, we don’t read up much before,” she said with a shake of her head. “We like to go in blind, no presuppositions or expectations, good or bad.”

You continued chatting about the museum with them until their stop to get off, and watched fondly as the man helped his wife up, the both of them bidding you farewell before departing. As the bus peeled away, you were able to glimpse them starting arm-in-arm down the sidewalk together.

After dropping your backpack in your chair, you headed towards the breakroom, where you found Jaemin hunched over something at a counter, his back to the door.

“Renjun’s cereal?” You surmised immediately.

He jumped in place, turning around clutching his chest. “Fuck! You scared the shit out of me, Y/N! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” He did in fact have a familiar box in his hand, clearly having been pouring some into a cup.

“I wasn’t sneaking. You just flipped out because you know you’re being a little cereal thief right now.”

He quickly closed up the box and put it away. “There. Like it never happened.”

“Why don’t you just bring your own box of cereal?”

“It just tastes better if it’s free.”

“Stolen.”

“Synonyms.” He grinned slyly, shooting you a wink as he walked out.

As you were milling about, trying to gather everything to start the first pot of coffee, Renjun entered, heading straight for where his cereal was stored. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he grabbed it, froze midair, and tested the weight of it in his hand.

“Na Jaemin…” He hissed, slamming the container onto the counter.

“Suggestion—” You announced, turning around to look at him with your arms crossed over your chest. “Keep the cereal at your desk instead of leaving it here unattended where he steals it all the time.”

“I never keep food at my desk. What if it attracts ants?”

“Padlock.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You may be onto something there…”

Renjun wandered out of the room, still musing over this with the cereal box tucked under his arm. You realized you didn’t really want a cup of coffee and put the empty coffee mug away.

The weekly agenda meeting was short and sweet, and you were slow to follow the other matchmakers down the hall after. You were the very last one to swipe in, and to take your seat at your station. Everyone else was already reading their matches, but you just stared at your blank screen, not even turning it on yet. At some point, two weeks ago, someone in this room, one of your coworkers—or maybe even you—had read a match result, looked up a bunch of numbers, and submitted a match report that had changed your life forever. You listened to them clacking away at their keyboards, dozens more strangers’ lives being irreparably altered like yours was.

“Y/N?” Your name was called from across the room, and you whipped your head around to look over at Ms. Kwon, standing in the doorway of her office. She gestured for you to come over. “A moment?”

“Oh, of course, ma’am.” You rushed to stand, hurrying up the stairs and following her into her office.

She closed the door behind you, sitting back down behind her desk, and offering the chairs across from her for you. You nervously took the one closest to the door.

“Is everything alright with you?” Your supervisor asked gently. “You’ve been sitting at your station for the past fifteen minutes and haven’t turned the screen on…”

“Sorry…” You winced, self-conscious as you pictured Ms. Kwon watching you stare at a blank screen for fifteen minutes. “I’m uhm… I…”

“Have something on your mind?”

“It’s worth it, right? Giving up your soulmate to work here?”

Ms. Kwon took your question in stride, folding her hands together over her desk as she answered, “It’s good work that we do here, Y/N, don’t get me wrong. Necessary. But choosing to live without a soulmate, that’s not a noble sacrifice on our part. We’re not any better than anybody else because we choose to work here and they don’t. I don’t know a single executive here who would talk about it like that.”

You could feel all façades slip off your face, your eyes widening slightly and your mouth parting, though no sound came out.

At your apparent speechlessness, Ms. Kwon continued, “We’re not... monks or nuns taking some holy vow, Y/N. It’s morally neutral. Neither good nor bad. It just is.”

A split-second of rage burst inside you. “Then why would any of you choose it? Why would anybody go without a soulmate?”

“Why did you?” She asked you calmly.

“I... was afraid to know,” you admitted quietly.

“Everyone here is sort of like that. They have some other reason. It’s usually not a good one, but they never have to confront it. Ever.”

“So the Factory... is the easy way out?”

“Y/N, listen to the words I’m telling you: It is neither good nor bad to choose to work here. It just is.”

“Is it good to have your soulmate, then?”

“I am not the arbiter of good or bad in your life. I’m just your boss,” she replied, sounding a bit tired now. “Look, you’re very smart. That’s why you were chosen for matchmaking. But I’m urging you to stop this line of thinking here. This is how you end up—”

“I’m resigning,” you declared, and suddenly all of the noise in your mind was quiet.

“That is what I was afraid of,” she sighed. “May I ask why?”

“I… have a soulmate.”

“Of course you do.” Ms. Kwon smiled placidly. “All of us at the Factory do. But quitting now will not put your profile back in to get matched with them.”

“No, I—I was matched. Somehow, I don’t know how, but… I have a red string, Ms. Kwon.” You held up your right hand, pointing to your pinky, even though you knew she couldn’t see it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden lightness of your shoulders. “I have a soulmate, and… this is just a job. It’s a good job, and I love it. But there’s other jobs. I don’t have another soulmate.”

She was quiet for a moment, simply looking at you intensely. After a moment, she reached out to hover her hands over her keyboard. “Would you mind if I took just a moment to confirm? It’ll take less than a minute.”

“Sure, go for it.”

Ms. Kwon quickly typed away and clicked a few things on her mouse as you quite literally twiddled your thumbs over your lap. Just a few seconds later, she took her glasses off, rubbing between her brows as she let out a deep sigh. “So it seems you have been…” She sat back in her chair. “Have you… found them?”

“Uhm, yes, ma’am,” you nodded awkwardly.

“This is why you were so interested in undoing matches as of late, I presume.”

“Yes… but not anymore.”

She sat there for a few more moments, eyes closed, before putting her glasses back on and sitting up straight again. “I accept your resignation, Y/N. With a heavy heart, might I add.”

“That means a lot, Ms. Kwon.”

“There will need to be an investigation.”

“I figured.”

“I expect full cooperation from both you and your soulmate.”

“Oh, uh, sure, sure.”

Ms. Kwon looked at you oddly. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“We’re not… exactly… friendly… right now…” You admitted quietly. “And it’s completely my fault…”

She let out a few soft, wistful chuckles. “He didn’t take too kindly to you attempting to ‘undo’ your string, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.” You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek regretfully.

“The string will tighten again, Y/N,” she reassured you, her voice kind. “The computer doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Right. Thank you, Ms. Kwon.”

She cleared her throat, becoming formal and businesslike again. “Provided the investigation turns up exactly what I think it will, I’ll also write an excellent reference letter for you, if you would like.”

“What do you think the investigation will turn up?”

“A mistake. Something was misfiled. A paper was put in the wrong stack. A name left off an email. I don’t think you tampered with the program somehow to put yourself back in. Did you?”

“No, ma’am, not at all.”

“There we go.” She shrugged. “Do you have anything else for me?”

“I get my severance pay and all that, right?”

“Of course.”

You stood up, set your key card on the desk, and shook her hand before leaving her office, walking right out of the matchmaking room as the others kept at it at their stations. Making a beeline for your desk, you could see several heads of your coworkers popping up to peer at you curiously before looking back down at their computers. One remained up and focused intently on you from further down your row, Renjun.

As you stopped next to Jaemin and opened your backpack at your desk, he took his headphones off to turn to you. “Uh hey…?”

“Hi,” you replied cheerily, beginning to grab personal possessions off your desk and load them into your bag.

“What are you doing?”

At this point, Renjun had stood up from his desk and stalked over to you two, eyes wide as he took in what you were doing. “What’s going on?”

“I quit!” You informed them, not being particularly quiet about it.

“What?!” “Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirmed, unplugging the receiver for your personal wireless mouse, and putting it back inside said mouse, before chucking the whole thing into your bag. “Resigned. Quit. Handed in my zero day notice.”

“Why? I thought you loved this job!” Renjun sputtered out, his hands on his hips.

“Yeah! Like, I thought you were going to be Director one day!” Jaemin nodded. “What happened?”

You looked around the wide-open bullpen, still having enough tact to not want to blab about your string in front of everybody. Zipping up your backpack and throwing one strap over your shoulder, you asked your friends innocently, “Walk me out?”

They practically dragged you down the stairs, flanking you on either side, none of you saying a word until you were outside.

“What’s going on?” Renjun demanded as soon as the front doors closed behind you. “Is it something we need to know about? Should we be looking for other jobs?”

“Did you ask for a raise or something and they wouldn’t give it to you?” Jaemin asked. “Or a promotion? Or—”

“No, it’s nothing like that. You guys are fine,” you promised them, lacing your two hands together in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you admitted, “I have a red string, and I found my soulmate.”

Their jaws dropped, and they looked at each other, flabbergasted, then at you, then each other again, then stared at you. Renjun was the first to shake himself out of his stupefied state, “How did that even—”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know how much I can even say until the Factory finishes their investigation, so…” You trailed off. “Yeah, that’s why I quit. And Ms. Kwon didn’t ask me to stay.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened comically as he pointed at you accusatorily. “The guy at lunch, was he your—”

“Yeah, that was him.” You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Anyway, you guys can’t say anything to anybody else at the Factory, okay? Just let management handle this however they want to. Keep your noses out of it.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Renjun asked.

“Uh… try to find him? Again?” You said sheepishly.

“You lost him?” Jaemin asked in disbelief. “Like, in a well or something? How? What?”

“We kind of had a fight… Let’s just say the ball’s in my court, and I don’t know how to play.”

He patted you on the back. “You’ve got this, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you nodded to him gratefully. “I should let you two get back to work now. Thank you both, again, for being the best work buddies a girl could ask for.”

“Hey, don’t talk like you’re going off and dying,” Renjun scoffed, poking the right side of your head.

“Yeah, we’re your real buddies, too.” Jaemin poked the left side of your head. “I still owe you your book.”

“You two have got to make sure you don’t kill each other over cereal in the mornings on your own now. I won’t be there to referee,” you warned as you took a step back, facing them.

“As long as Jaemin keeps his grubby mitts to himself, no problem.” Renjun nodded.

Jaemin grinned. “No promises.”

You laughed, going in to give each of them a hug. “Bye, guys. I’ll see you around.”

And you proceeded to walk. From the riverside park near the Factory, to the curb where you’d eaten ice cream together, to your favorite bookstore. You walked until your feet ached and your stomach growled, and even after that. You found new parts of the city that you’d never seen, never had any reason to go to before. As you came up to a street of small shops, you peered into each window carefully as you passed by. Your feet skidded to a stop all on their own and your heart leapt to your throat as you inadvertently made eye contact with a patron right on the other side of the glass of one store. The exact person you’d been looking for.

While Sungchan froze in place, you ran for the entrance to the shop, throwing open the door and ducking around shelves and displays to find him still glued to the same spot, staring out the window at the pavement where you used to be. You grabbed his left hand with your right, watching the string complete itself, and pulled him around to face you.

“Sungchan!” You said his name breathlessly, a relieved smile on your face. “Found you!”

“Y/N…” His voice was guarded, uncertain, gaze trailing over your red jumpsuit that you were still in. “Are you… on your lunch break?”

“No, I uh, I resigned this morning,” you told him, not an ounce of remorse in your tone.

His eyes widened, and his demeanor immediately changed as he looked down at you with concern. “What? You didn’t have to—Y/N, what happened? Oh my god, what are you going to do?”

A throat was very conspicuously cleared from nearby, and you snapped your head over in the direction of it, spotting a group of several guys leaning against shelves further down the store, a few trying to look busy and not like they had just been listening to your conversation. One stood at the front of them, looking directly at Sungchan.

“Oh, sorry, guys,” Sungchan waved them off. “Go on without me, okay?”

And with that, he set down the merchandise he had been browsing—which you were now seeing was a stack of old magazines; it looked as though you were in a thrift store of some kind—and pulled you out the door by the hand. Just a little ways down the street was a bench overlooking the river, and the two of you stopped there.

“I wouldn’t have been able to keep working there with a red string, Sungchan,” you explained. “If I didn’t resign, I would’ve been fired whenever they found out. I wanted to tell them myself.”

He frowned. “When I said you had a choice…”

“I chose to keep the string, and stop looking for a way to undo it. I know that’s what you were asking me.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask…” he sighed. “What made you change your mind?”

“A lot of different things, but… I think realizing that I’m not that special.”

“Y/N, I—”

“No, I mean, I kind of had this complex about working at the Factory. Thinking that it was some sacrifice for the greater good, me giving up my soulmate so I could help other people find theirs. But like… it was just a job.” You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded now, even just a few hours after resigning.

Sungchan smiled a little at that, but still looked pensive. “So what are you going to do for work now?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, but couldn’t keep the giddy grin off your face. “That’s really scary… but it’s kind of exciting, in a weird way, right? I’ve had the same job since I got out of school, and now I can do anything.”

“We’ll find you a job. That’s like, Priority One, okay?�� He reassured you. “We’ll do some brainstorming, find some job listings, we’ll figure something out.”

“We?”

“Yeah?” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not leaving you out to dry after all this.”

“Thanks, Sungchan.” You fidgeted with your fingers, eyes gracing over the finished red string again. “And uh, if that’s Priority One, then Priority Two is probably going to have to be the investigation.”

“The what?”

“The Bureau has to investigate how this even happened, our match. Me resigning was just the beginning, not the end. They’re expecting our full cooperation.”

“What are we going to have to cooperate with, exactly?” He crossed his arms.

“They’ll probably just want to ask us some questions. Me more than you, since I’m the one who actually worked there. Ms. Kwon—my old boss—made it sound like it’d be more a formality than anything else. I’m sure they’re already auditing all my match reports for the past two years, and looking through my key card log, and going through my computer as we speak.”

“Alright, yeah. Fine.”

With his agreement, the two of you were quiet for a moment, and you felt an air of uncertainty. You’d found each other, you were soulmates, you weren’t trying to undo your string anymore, and yet you were still practically strangers. Where did you go from here?

“So… what’s your favorite color?” You asked.

“What?” He blinked, seeming confused at the sudden change in topic.

“I don’t know anything about you…” You said quietly, feeling your skin get warm with embarrassment. “I don’t know, that’s just the first thing that came to mind. Forget it, it was stupid.”

He chuckled and answered anyway, “Purple. My favorite color is purple.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“What’s yours?”

“Pink. Uh, cotton candy pink, specifically.”

“That’s good. That’s really good.” He was still laughing, more than your awkward question warranted.

“Okay, what’s so funny? Other than me being stupid.”

“No, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…” He reassured you, trailing off as he seemed to be trying to put his thoughts together. “There’re all these books, and magazine articles and stuff, you know. 15 Things to Not Do When You Meet Your Soulmate. 10 Best Opening Lines for Meeting the One. I Met My Soulmate and It’s Awkward: Now What? How to Get Over First Meeting Flutters. And you’re nothing like that. You’ve probably never even read anything of that sort of stuff, have you?”

“No…” You shook your head, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Have you?”

He held his hands up defensively. “Well, call it morbid curiosity—”

You couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to cover it with your hand, having the perfect image of him lying on his bed on his stomach, legs kicking up behind him as he scrolled on his phone late at night reading cheesy internet columns about love.

“And that’s funny, yeah, okay. I didn’t fool you with the… yeah.” Sungchan laughed again, this time at himself, and you were quickly starting to think that it might be your favorite sound.

“It’s cute, it’s cute!” You promised. “I’m uhm, sure me running away really threw a wrench in whatever great opening line you had planned.”

“Yes and no.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You were really pretty, and when I looked at you, I suddenly forgot every word I knew. And then you ran away, and I was just confused at how I had messed it up before opening my mouth.”

Your body burned on the inside and outside twofold from him simultaneously saying you were so pretty it made him speechless, and also the shame at how stupendously you had fucked up your first meeting. You squeezed your eyes shut, covered your face with both hands, and shook your head as you groaned out an apology, “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, really— Helped snap me out of it, you know?” He chuckled, and you were glad he could at least see some humor in it now. “Looking back now, completely understandable for you to do that. Sorry again for chasing you through the streets, I’m sure that didn’t help.”

“Also understandable on your part,” you said. Before you could scramble for another thing to ask Sungchan, your stomach rumbled loudly, and you cringed, knowing full well that he had definitely been able to hear that. “Sorry…”

“I was supposed to grab food with the guys anyway.” Sungchan stood up. “Let’s get you something to eat, hm?”

You followed him to a small café a couple streets away, and after grabbing your food, you two sat at a table outside. “So what do you do? For work? Or are you a student? You know quite a bit about my old job, but…”

“Oh, I’m an artist.”

“What kind? Like, what medium? Is that the right way to ask that? I guess I’m asking what kind of stuff you make?”

“Don’t worry, those were all good questions. Different questions, but good.” He smiled warmly, taking a sip of his drink before answering. “I mostly focus on making mixed media collages. Sometimes I source my materials from other places, but sometimes I make it myself. Take my own pictures, paint it myself, put the clay on myself. Just depends. So I work with a lot of different materials and mediums, too.”

“Oh!” You immediately thought of the couple you talked to on the bus that morning. “You should totally check out the art museum on 2nd this month! I heard they have an exhibit showcasing mixed media collages. I haven’t been, but there’s this couple on my bus in the mornings who goes every month, they told me about it today.”

“Did they say the artist?” He asked mildly, picking at his food with his utensil.

“No, they don’t do any research before, they like to go in blind.”

“Yeah, uhm, that’s my exhibit,” he practically whispered the last two words behind a napkin as he wiped his mouth with it, looking down at his plate. His ears were bright red, and he grabbed his drink to take another long sip.

Your eyes widened. “Wait really?”

“I understand if you think I’m lying, it’s on the exhibit webpage on the museum website, but yeah…”

“Sungchan, that’s so cool!” You exclaimed, even as you brought out your phone to bring up the website. Not because you didn’t believe him, but just because reading the headline of how the museum was proud to feature ‘New Local Artist Jung Sungchan’ in an exclusive exhibit was practically surreal. He, however, still couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Why do you look like you want to die?”

“I didn’t want to use my real name, but my… manager thought it would be a good idea. And obviously I had to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his face, making everything from his forehead to his neck pink. “I just hate people looking at my art and thinking they know me. They can look at my art all I want, project onto it, feel from it, call it stupid, say they could have done better, I don’t care, I just don’t want them to know it’s mine and think they know me because of it.”

“Who’s your manager that made you use your real name? Don’t artists use pseudonyms sometimes?”

“My sister’s husband. He’s good at his job, and he’s done a lot for me. I’m really thankful for him, honestly. It was more like when I was first starting out, he thought that using a pseudonym would make me seem sort of pretentious. People would like a regular guy a lot more.” Sungchan sighed. “I agreed, and have regretted that decision with every art show I’ve attended since.”

You nodded slowly, tapping your fingers on the tabletop in a rhythm as you thought. “So… why do you think you make art, then?”

“I have to,” he shrugged. “Not making art would be worse. People connecting with my art… I like that. But I don’t like when they try to assume things about me because of my art. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” you assured him. “Death of the collagist.”

His face cracked into a grin. “Exactly.”

“Would you mind if I went to your exhibit sometime?” You asked. “You totally don’t have to come, I’m sure that’d be weird for you. But I’d like to go see it, and not make any assumptions about you at all.”

“It’s a public museum, I can’t stop you from going.”

“Well, yes… I don’t know, it’s still your art, and I’m not just a member of the public, am I?”

Sungchan’s eyes held a softness as he looked at you across the table, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not just a member of the public to me.”

“And you’re not just some random artist to me,” you responded.

“I wouldn’t mind if you went, on one condition.”

“Mm?” You prompted, expecting it to be something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me what you think’ or ‘don’t ever mention it to me.’ Nothing at all in the realm of what he actually requested.

“I go with you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, yeah, of course!”

“Then it’s a date.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling shy at him calling it a date, turning your eyes back down to your food. “Yeah, okay. A date.”

You ended up spending the whole day with Sungchan, just getting to know each other. And browsing online job listings for you—turns out he wasn’t kidding about that being Priority One.

He used revising your résumé as an opportunity to learn more about you. Education—Oh where did you go to school? What did you study? Which devolved into you two telling stories about classes you liked, professors and teachers you loved and hated, and old school friends. Work Experience—So what actually was your official title? What were your job responsibilities? Which led to you fondly reminiscing in your times at the office with Jaemin and Renjun, talking about your training to be a Systems Analytics Specialist, and his disbelief in how exactly you even did your job. It was when you got to the Skills portion that you balked a little bit. It felt like your only skills were specific to the Factory: reading the matches from the computer, inputting match reports, keeping Renjun from killing Jaemin over a box of cereal. Sungchan helped you get a bit creative with your technological experience, creative thinking, quick learning, and conflict resolution skills.

As he walked you back to your apartment after getting dinner together, you were still asking him your never-ending stream of questions. “So what were you supposed to be doing with your friends today?”

“I was collecting.” He craned his neck up, and you followed his line of vision to look up at the few specks of light in the sky that you could see against the brightness of the city. “Gathering materials for collages. Thrift stores are pretty good for old magazines, books, newspapers, photo albums, all kinds of stuff. The guys were tagging along, they wanted to get lunch and do some shopping too.”

“Oh. Sorry for taking you away from them.”

He gave you a funny look. “No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re not going to apologize for that.”

You blinked at him in confusion. “Uh… I think I already did?”

He stopped you two in the middle of the sidewalk, devoid of other pedestrians, holding your eye contact very seriously. “Thank you for finding me today.”

“Oh,” you chuckled nervously. “You’re welcome. Thank you for… everything else about today. The look on your face when I found you—I was sort of afraid that you were going to run this time.”

He laughed, continuing to walk again. “Did I really look like that?”

“Through the window, yeah. When I came in the shop, though, it was more like… you thought you were dreaming. Like you were going to pinch yourself at any moment, just in case. Or you thought I was pranking you.”

“Well, you’ll have to understand why I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high; all our previous meetings didn’t quite have fairytale endings.”

“No, they didn’t,” you agreed.

“But this time felt different. So I let myself be a little hopeful,” he admitted with a grin, nudging your arm with his. “And I was right.”

“How’d you figure that?”

“You didn’t act like finding me was a terrible inconvenience, first.”

You winced. “Mm-mhm.”

“And the smile on your face when you ran in and grabbed my hand.”

“What about it?”

“I’d never seen you smile before that.” He then added a teasing, “I didn’t know if you could.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad.”

He snickered, affectionately bumping his elbow against yours again. You rolled your eyes, smiling as you elbowed him back. You arrived at the main entry to your building soon, and you stopped there to say goodbye to Sungchan. He looked between the door that you were standing in front of, and the familiar bus stop just a few meters down the road, well within view.

“Oh wow, it must have really freaked you out when I jogged by your stop, huh?” He commented, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, you can imagine the ‘ready to fistfight the divine universe’ energy I had in my body at that point.”

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Pretty sure I witnessed some of it, too.”

You looked longingly at the bus stop, holding yourself, and sighed. “It’s going to be weird not getting up and going to work tomorrow.”

“So what are you going to do tomorrow? With no work?”

You passed a bubble side to side in your mouth as you thought, then shrugged. “Sleep in?”

“Great way to start the day.”

“And then… send my résumé to some of those places we found?”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Probably read outside somewhere if it’s a nice day?”

“Ooh, sounds nice.”

You dug your toe into the ground. “I don’t know, what are you doing?”

“Sleep in, and I promised Shotaro I’d help him with this thing, but then… if you don’t mind the company, I think reading outside sounds pretty lovely?”

“What are you helping Shotaro with?”

“Taking Instagram pictures.”

You let out a short round of giggles. “I’d like to spend time with you tomorrow too, Sungchan. Just let me know when you’re done helping Shotaro with that thing.”

“It’ll be the quickest photoshoot he’s ever done in his life.”

“No, still do it right!”

“It’ll be right, just quick.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, but the fond smile on your face very obviously negated that sentiment. “Goodnight, Sungchan.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And with that, you unlocked your building door and gave him one last wave over your shoulder before closing and locking it back up behind you. Alone in the stairwell, you let out a sigh of contentment.

The next morning, you slept in on a Tuesday for the first time in a while and didn’t put on your red jumpsuit after getting out of bed. Instead, you shuffled out to your kitchen and made yourself breakfast, which you slowly enjoyed with a cup of tea. After taking your sweet time in a nice hot shower, you got into a t-shirt and pants, and sat on your couch to start sending in applications to new jobs. As you typed on your laptop, you’d catch the occasional flash of the red loop around your pinky finger, but instead of filling you with you dread or apprehension, it now made you smile a bit, and push on with your task, knowing you had someone right there in your corner just on the other end of that string. After a couple hours of filling out applications, searching through more prospective job listings, and finding a few new ones that had been posted since you and Sungchan looked yesterday, you deemed that to be plenty for your first morning of job hunting. It was nearly lunchtime, and you hadn’t left your apartment yet. Looking outside, you saw that it was sunny, with a few passing clouds creating occasional patches of shadow, and breezes gently rustled the leaves on the trees. A perfectly lovely day.

Gathering up a couple books, you packed a light going-out bag, then headed out. As you passed your bus stop, you thought of the regulars on your morning commute, and wondered if they noticed your disappearance this morning, and if they thought anything of it, like you thought of the primary school teacher sometimes. You hoped the sisters got to school okay, and that the elderly couple liked Sungchan’s exhibit, and even that the office workers who you had never spoken to had good days at work—not too terribly stressful. As you had just arrived at your destination and picked out the perfect spot to read, your phone buzzed with a text.

[sungchan: done! with a satisfied customer, might i add]

[you: oh good! i’m done with my applications for the morning too! out reading right now]

You sent your location, then took your book out as there was another buzz.

[sungchan: omw :) ]

You were so caught up in the chapter you were reading that you didn’t realize Sungchan had arrived until he set his bag down next to you. You jumped a little bit, closing the book on your thumb as you clutched your hand over your heart, which was now beating wildly out of rhythm.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a scare.” Sungchan didn’t look that sorry, as he had a clearly amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you. “I did call your name.”

“It’s alright, sorry I didn’t hear you.” You waved off his apology, then nodded to the spot beside you for him to sit down. “Lovely day out, huh?”

“It is,” he agreed, stretching out his long legs as he settled in against the large tree trunk. He reached into his bag, and you looked with intrigue at what book he was going to read for today.

You perked up with interest as you recognized the cover immediately. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to read that book! I love that author. Just haven’t picked it up yet.”

“Yeah it uhm—” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “It was the book you were looking at when we met. The one you dropped.”

“You…”

“I didn’t know how long it was going to be until the next time I saw you, so I went back and bought it. You know, sort of hoping I could learn something about you in the meantime.”

“And in the meantime, I was scheming to undo our string…” You muttered, eyes falling to your lap.

“Which you, no offense, failed at,” he clicked his tongue and elbowed you teasingly. “I’ll speedread so you can borrow it after me, okay?”

“No, read it right! That author’s so good, you’ll miss stuff!”

“I’ll read it carefully! Just also super fast.”

“Those are literally antonyms when it comes to reading!” You insisted.

“You’ve never seen me speedread then.”

You smacked your open book over your face, despite knowing that he was joking. “Oh my god…”

Two weeks later, and you and Sungchan were going to The Soulmate Factory for your interviews. You were sort of surprised it had taken them this long to talk to you, but at the same time, that it was happening this quickly. It felt weird going to the Factory not in your jumpsuit, but you knew that would’ve been possibly the worst choice. So you instead put on something nice, presentable, but not overly formal. After all, it wasn’t your job interview again. Sungchan was wearing a button-up shirt, a stark contrast to the rather casual attire you’d always seen him in before. As the two of you entered the lobby of the Factory, you could see him looking around at everything with an air of suspicion.

You stopped at the front desk, giving the attendant a polite smile and starting to introduce yourself, despite having just been colleagues a few weeks ago, “Hi, uhm Y/L/N Y/N and Jung Sungchan, here for a 9:00 appointment with Ms. Kwon?”

“Of course,” she nodded, looking between you and Sungchan with a strained smile of her own. “You… two can have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Leading Sungchan over to sit on a settee nearby, you looked around, taking a few deep breaths as your knee bounced up and down nervously on its own. You had gotten the two of you here fifteen minutes early, so you already knew that you’d be waiting for some time.

“Why did she say it like that?” He hissed to you under his breath.

“Say what?” You whispered back, looking at her out of the corner of your eye to see if she was listening, but it looked like she was taking an incoming call.

“You two can have a seat.” He repeated snidely. “And the way she looked at us? Looked at you? Like we’re the weird ones for being soulmates?”

“I told you, Sungchan, there’s a reason Bureau employees don’t get soulmates. People will think I rigged it somehow. Even other employees.”

“You said it was impossible for you to have messed with it. Shouldn’t they of all people know that?”

“Well, with me being a matchmaker…” You tried to think of how to succinctly sum this up without telling Sungchan too much stuff that he wasn’t supposed to know right before his interview. “Even other Bureau employees don’t know what goes on in the matchmaking room. I’m sure there’s been rumors since I’ve left.”

“But you didn’t do anything. What’s the point of working here if you’re just as bad as the people who don’t?”

“They also probably think that when this gets out I’m going to give the Bureau and the employees here a bad rep, make the public distrust them for a while. Even the employees that don’t think I did anything will probably hate me at least a little for that.”

“Well I still don’t like it,” he huffed, resting an arm along the back of the furniture behind you.

“You’re allowed to not like it. I’m just saying there’s not much we can do about it.”

He proceeded to focus his hater energy on making comments about the décor being tacky, and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly and join in. You never really thought about it much before, but being called The Soulmate Factory and having a color palette of red, pink, and white was a bit much. You two also had a small game of how many “subtle” red lines you could find in the designs of decorative throw pillows, rugs, carpeting, and pieces of abstract art on the walls. Finally, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and looked up to see a somewhat familiar face. It wasn’t Ms. Kwon, as you had hoped for, but Lee Jeno, one of the executive assistants that you often saw when he was sent down from the ninth floor on important errands by his bosses.

“Jung Sungchan?” He called, looking directly at Sungchan.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He lifted his hand that had been resting on his leg between pointing out tacky décor. He ushered you up with him with the hand that was behind you on the couch. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Sorry, just Mr. Jung right now,” Jeno clarified with a slight wince.

Sungchan looked like he was about to argue, but you patted his arm reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Sungchan. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

He sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Alright, fine. I’ll be back soon.”

“Be good.”

“Always am.”

You watched him follow Jeno up the stairs, Sungchan casting you one last glance over his shoulder before the two of them fully disappeared from your view. It was then that you finally sat back down, and started chewing on your thumbnail.

Only fifteen minutes later Jeno came back down the stairs. Alone. “Y/N?” He addressed you more casually.

You stood up and didn’t hide the concern on your face as you looked around behind him. “Where’s Sungchan?”

“Mr. Jung has been moved to another waiting room. You’ll see him after your interview.”

Letting out a breath, you tried really hard not to shoot the messenger as you responded. “Fine. Lead the way, Jeno.”

The fact that you were going up the stairs and not to the elevator was interesting. You must not be going to his bosses’ floor, unless they wanted you to collapse on your way there.

“It’s good to see you again, by the way,” your former coworker said quietly. “I had to hand-deliver a memo to Ms. Kwon the other day and the matchmaking room was weirdly empty without you at your station.”

“Thanks.” A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “I wouldn’t have even noticed your presence if I was there but… it’s nice to know that someone noticed my absence.”

“Well, we did our intro training together. You don’t forget those people.”

“No, you don’t,” you agreed. “Us, Jaemin, Renjun, Donghyuck in Budgeting.”

“Is it nice? Your life now? Don’t tell me anything specific, I can’t know.”

You laughed. “I haven’t lived much of it, honestly. I’ve only been gone a few weeks.”

“That’s true. There’s just been so much that’s happened, it feels like a lifetime.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“But has it been good at least? Overall, you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good, Jeno. He’s good.”

“Of course he is. The computer never makes mistakes.” And with that, the two of you stopped in front of a conference room on the second floor. He nodded politely to you. “This is where I leave you. If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best, Y/N. With everything.”

“Thank you. Bye, Jeno.” You smiled at him, knocking on the door as he pivoted on his heel and walked down the hall.

“Come in.” Came a familiar voice from within. Opening the door, you saw two figures stand up from the small conference table. Ms. Kwon, and a man who wasn’t familiar to you at all.

“Y/N, hello,” Ms. Kwon nodded to you. She didn’t even let you open your mouth to greet her back, gesturing to the man with her. “I’m not sure if you ever had the pleasure to meet AD Yang of Risk Management while you were here.”

And in one curt sentence, she had told you everything you needed to know about the situation: This was the assistant director of the risk management department at the Bureau, aka the legal department, which meant that this was serious serious, this would not be some quick interview to check off boxes, and she had only been let in because of her job title and as a professional courtesy to her, she wouldn’t be in control of the processions. But most importantly—she was on your side, for whatever that was worth. And honestly, it was worth a lot to keeping your composure as you turned to face the man.

AD Yang was deceptively young, you wouldn’t have pinned him as being as high up in the Bureau as he was just by looking at him. He only looked to be maybe ten years older than you, not a touch of grey in his pristine black hair, and only a hint of the beginning of worry lines on his forehead. He wore a suit, as all Bureau Executives did—it was only the lower level workers like you who wore the red jumpsuits—though his looked just a little too big on him, and his red tie was a little loose and slightly crooked, as if he still hadn’t mastered tying it yet. Both these things only aided in making him look younger and inexperienced. But the air of caution Ms. Kwon had about the whole situation immediately let you know not to underestimate him. You were thinking maybe his dress choices were intentional, so people would do exactly that, let their guards down around him.

AD Yang offered you a practically boyish smile as he held out his hand across the table, which your former supervisor hadn’t even done. You gingerly shook it as he introduced himself. “Please, just Mr. Yang is fine. Ms. Kwon is always so formal, you know. And I’ll call you Ms. Y/L/N, so we’re all on the same level here.”

You nodded.

“I don’t think we ever did have the pleasure to meet, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Yang kept talking, his tone conversational. He then said as if it were a joke, “People usually only see me when they’re in serious trouble, you know?” He laughed, the only one to, then reassured you, “That isn’t what’s happening here, don’t worry. We’re just going to ask you a few questions, then you and Mr. Jung can head on out and off to your new life together, okay?”

You nodded.

“So, why don’t we sit, hm?”

The three of you took your seats, the two of them on one side of the conference table, you on the other. Mr. Yang took a moment to shuffle his papers, then smacked his hand to his forehead as if he’d suddenly remembered something. “I’m sorry, would you like some water, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get started then.” He reached for a small device in the middle of the table. “I’ll be needing to record this conversation. Is that alright, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sure, yeah.” Not like you could really say no.

“Great.” His boyish smile disappeared as soon as the recorder clicked on. He started by listing off the date and time, then addressed you. “This is AD Robert Yang, interviewing Ms. Y/L/N Y/N. Also present is Ms. Kwon Siyeon, Supervisor of Systems Analysis and Reporting. Ms. Y/L/N, you are aware that I’m recording this conversation, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“A few formalities before we begin: Since I have the recording going, I ask that you let me finish my question before you answer, even if you think you know what I’m going to ask. Cross-chatter is a bit difficult to parse out when you have to listen back to it.”

“Okay.”

“I also want you to answer everything aloud. No nodding or shaking your head, or ‘uh-huh’ or ‘nuh-unh.’” He showed the motions as he did them, and you could tell he had done this spiel many times before. “The non-verbal cues don’t translate great in an audio format.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, clicked his pen a couple of times, then looked up at you to begin with his first question. “Now, can you tell me how long you worked at The Bureau of Interpersonal Affairs prior to your resignation?”

“About five years.”

“Do you remember when your first day was?”

“Of training or on my own?”

“Training. After being hired.”

“Probably… spring five years ago. May, after I graduated.”

“Okay, good, good. And so you were hired, did your six months of standard training, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what happened?”

“I did more training to be a Systems Analytics Specialist.”

“How much?”

“Two and a half years.”

“So three years of training total, then you got to start on your own as a… Systems Analytics Specialist.”

“Yes.”

“I believe the other name for that position is matchmaker, correct?”

You bit down on your tongue to keep back an eyeroll. All of you in this room had to be aware that he was feigning ignorance right now. He might as well have asked if the Bureau was also sometimes called The Soulmate Factory. “Yes, we’re often called that as well.”

“More than Systems Analytics Specialist?”

“Yes.”

He jumped topics. “So why did you start working at the Bureau?”

“It sounded like a good place to work.”

“How so?”

“It seemed like the Bureau did good work. Helping people find their soulmates.”

“And you didn’t want to find yours?”

“I was willing to give that up for something bigger than me.”

“Did you join the Bureau with the intent of manipulating your soulmate match?”

“No.”

“Did you sign up to be a matchmaker with the intent of manipulating your soulmate match?”

“No. I didn’t sign up to be a matchmaker in the first place.”

“You didn’t?” He arched an eyebrow curiously.

“No.”

“How did you become a matchmaker?”

You glanced over at your former boss. “Ms. Kwon chose me at the end of my six months of basic training.”

“Why you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“You agreed to two and a half more years of training for a specialized position that doesn’t even recruit one new person a year without being told why you were suited for that position?”

“Yes. I was young and it paid better. I didn’t need to know.”

“When you were working as a matchmaker, were you ever asked by friends or family to manipulate their matches in any way, shape, or form?” He switched topics again. You weren’t sure if he was trying to disorient you, or if he simply decided that he was done with that line of questioning and wanted to move on with the next one.

You opened your mouth to say ‘no,’ then suddenly thought of the sisters on your bus in the mornings, recalling a day when the younger one had been crying as you got on, and her sister stopped you specifically. Tilting your head, you replied, “I once pinky promised a little girl that I wouldn’t match her with this smelly boy in her class. Does that count?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

He made a show of scribbling something down on his notes, of which he had already filled up the first page of a large legal pad. AD Yang flipped to the next page as he announced, “I’m going to skip forward a little in time. When you found out you had the string, what did you do first?”

“Went home.”

“Went home?” He repeated.

“It showed up after work. So I went home.”

“Where were you?”

“The bus stop outside of the Bureau.”

“Around what time of day was this?”

“Between five and five-twenty.”

“That’s a pretty specific time frame. How do you know that?”

“It was after work ended but before my bus showed up.”

“So the Bureau was still open, then. There were still people inside that you could have reported this to, such as Ms. Kwon here?”

“I don’t know if there were people in the building, and certainly not if Ms. Kwon specifically was still in the building, since I was outside and could not see inside of the building,” you answered frankly.

“Right, of course.” He gave you a close-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Do people usually stay after five here, at the Bureau? To your knowledge?”

“Some people, sure, on some days.”

“So, it would have been a good guess, that there would’ve been somebody inside, when you realized that you had a string?”

“Possibly.”

“Then why didn’t you go back inside?”

“Honestly, I panicked,” you admitted, closing your eyes for a moment as you thought back to that night again. “I thought it was impossible for me to get one. I thought I might’ve been able to figure something out on my own.”

“Figure something out? Like what?”

You opened your eyes and gave a half-hearted ‘I-don’t-know’ gesture with your hands that had been resting on the tabletop, despite his prior instructions to keep non-verbal cues to a minimum. “Like what happened, what went wrong.”

“And did you?” He prompted.

“No. I didn’t.” Not even a little bit.

“And is that when you told Ms. Kwon? When you gave up?”

“No.” You told her when you decided you wanted to keep the string. Not because the dead-ends had frustrated you.

“Why did you tell her? Why not continue your renegade investigation?”

“You’re asking me why I followed proper protocol?”

“I’m trying to piece together what happened. All the events that happened, and exactly in what order. What happened that caused you to tell Ms. Kwon at the time that you did? Did you even tell her? Or was it found out? I’ve been assuming, I’m sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, but consciously relaxed your face back into a pleasantly neutral expression. Ms. Kwon would have obviously had to do her own report including all of the details of your conversation with her. He should know all of those particulars. Was he trying to catch Ms. Kwon in a lie?

“Yes, I chose to report it. Because I had done some self-reflection. And I don’t think there’s anything further to be said that is of import for the Bureau to know.”

There was a moment of still air as he held eye contact with you. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw Ms. Kwon’s lips part, as if she were about to say something, then she closed her mouth again, waiting. Mr. Yang cleared his throat.

“Sorry to jump around like this, I’m sure it must be disorienting, but I’m going to go back in time now.” He was very clearly not sorry at all. “Did you know Jung Sungchan before this incident?”

“No.”

“Had you ever met, seen, or heard of him in passing?”

“Not to my recollection, no.” Sure, you could have walked by him on the street before, but you had no way to know that.

“It’s my understanding that he’s an artist, you may have seen some of his work? Heard of him that way?”

“No.”

“So there was no reason that you would have wanted to manipulate your match with him?”

“No.”

“How soon after getting your string did you meet Mr. Jung?”

Now you felt like he was messing with you. “You have that data.”

“I’m asking you.”

“The string appeared on Monday evening, we met that Saturday morning.”

“So, less than a week?”

“Yes.”

“Quick.”

“I suppose,” you replied noncommittally.

AD Yang hummed a single note in the back of his throat as he looked over one of his papers, then his sharp eyes were back on you. “How many times did you meet before reporting your string to Ms. Kwon?”

You had to take a moment to think before answering. “Four, including the first meeting.”

“I’d like to return to your job, for a moment. Now, I have Ms. Kwon here with me not only because she was your boss, but because I obviously have no clue what goes on in that room when you guys work with the computer. Really, from what I’ve heard, it’s some incredible stuff. So she’s kind of here to help me out in case I go way off the mark with what I’m asking you with some of this.” He let out an imitation of a nervous laugh, grabbing a piece of paper from his stack. He pushed it over to you, asking, “Now, can you take a look at this for me?”

It was a nearly blank piece of copy paper, except for one long string of characters printed across it.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

“What do you see here, Ms. Y/L/N?” Mr. Yang questioned.

You looked up from the paper, having to consciously choose not to slip back into reading it and instead focus on the conversation at hand. “It’s raw match data from the computer. This is one match.”

“Does it look familiar to you at all?”

“I mean, it looks like every other match I’ve ever read.”

“So you don’t remember reading this specific match at all?”

“No, I don’t remember reading this specific match.” You didn’t even need to look at it again. Of course you didn’t remember it, they were all just a bunch of stuff that you read practically in a trance, there was no way you’d be able to remember any of them.

He grabbed another paper from his folder to show to you, a clipping from a spreadsheet of some kind, several columns showing a date, time, and eight-digit code that was unfamiliar to you, except for the letters appended to the end of it—your initials.

“According to our audit logs, this match was read at, and the match report submitted from, your station in the matchmaking room.”

“Okay.”

“Is it safe to assume, therefore, that you submitted the match report?”

“Was it during business hours?”

“Yes.”

“Was I swiped in?”

“Yes.”

“Did Ms. Kwon see me at my station during that time?”

“Ms. Kwon?” Mr. Yang prompted her without breaking eye contact with you.

“I do not have specific recollection of this day, so I cannot say in the affirmative or the negative,” she spoke for the first time since you had entered, and you had to suppress your smile at her response.

The man lifted his arms up and then down in a sort of ‘oh well’ motion. “We don’t know.”

“The electronic data does make it seem likely that I read this match and submitted this match report,” you finally said.

“This is your match with Mr. Jung.”

You tried not to show your utter shock on your face—you knew he wanted to get some kind of reaction from you—but you couldn’t help the sudden jolt forward in your seat as you went to pull the piece of paper closer to you again, your eyes drinking in the characters once more.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

There was still no way for you to distinguish specifics, but just knowing that somewhere in this seemingly meaningless string of nonsense was you and Sungchan, you kept rereading it, desperately wishing for it to feel special now.

“And how do you read the matches? Walk me through the process.” AD Yang’s voice brought your focus back to the present.

You exchanged a knowing look with Ms. Kwon. “I really can’t…”

“Trade secrets?” He said humorously. “It’s alright, I work at the Bureau.”

“No, I mean, it’s impossible to describe. I can’t tell you what I’m reading or how I know. I just do.”

“Then how do you know it’s right?”

“Because it is.”

Ms. Kwon stepped in then, “Mr. Yang, I’m advising you that you are getting close to questioning the computer and the program itself, not Ms. Y/L/N.”

He held his hands up in a sort of surrender. “Well that is certainly what we are not here to do, hm? Let me just take a look at my notes, and make sure I’ve covered everything. Should only be a few more minutes of your time, Ms. Y/L/N.”

AD Yang kept you in there until you started watching the sun begin its journey downwards in the sky. At some point, you started going in circles, and you knew he was just trying to catch you in lies, or confuse you, or get you to admit more than you had before out of exhaustion, or in hopes that he’d let you out. But you gave no different answers, no contradictory or new information, and you knew he’d eventually let you out. After all, there was no proof anywhere that you had done anything wrong, because you hadn’t. The most they could really get on was not telling someone at the Bureau sooner when you’d gotten your string but what could they actually do? Fire you?

When Mr. Yang finally declared the interview over, and turned the recorder off, you had to keep in your groan of relief. Instead, you maintained your composure, standing up when they did in order to shake their hands.

“Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. I do apologize for taking so much of your day, that had not been my intention,” Mr. Yang once again laughed as he shook your hand. “But this was very helpful, and I promise, yours and Mr. Jung’s answers are going to help us here at Bureau improve the way we do things in the future.”

“Right. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Yang.” You nodded politely to him, then turned to your old boss, a genuine smile coming to your face. “It was good seeing you again, Ms. Kwon.”

“Jeno had something to do, so I’ll show you out, Y/N.” She informed you, gesturing to the door.

The two of you were quiet as you walked through the halls of the second floor, until you finally reached a small waiting area on the other end of the building, made up of only a few uncomfortable-looking armchairs. Sungchan was the only person there, slumped down in a chair and bouncing his leg as he cracked his knuckles. He looked up when he heard footsteps, jumping to his feet as soon as he saw you, and while you would’ve felt a little weird about running in an office, he clearly didn’t care, taking just a few long strides to reach you and wrap his arms around you.

“God, Y/N! There you are! What the hell? Why the fuck did they keep you so long? They wouldn’t tell me anything, just that you were still being interviewed and I could either leave or keep waiting. I wasn’t going to leave but—”

“I’m fine, Sungchan, I’m fine,” you reassured him, hugging him back despite the slight awkwardness you felt with Ms. Kwon still definitely being right there. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He didn’t say anything else, just kept holding you as you turned around in his arms to address Ms. Kwon.

“Uhm, we’re good to leave, right? Do you need anything else from us?”

She was clearly fighting back a smile as she replied, “I ask that you wait just a little bit longer, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” you nodded. “What is it? Something for me to sign? An NDA or something?”

“Just a moment, okay?” And with that, she left.

“God, I fucking hate it here,” Sungchan grumbled into your shoulder. “Let’s just go, whatever NDA or whatever the hell they want you to sign is going to suck and be coercive as shit and not worth it. It probably won’t even be enforceable or whatever.”

“I can’t even tell how much of that is even good or bad legal advice. I think all of it was probably bad?”

“It’s definitely going to be written by that fucking skeeze who interviewed you for like seven hours straight, which means it’s going to be bad.”

“What if it’s stuff for my severance pay and benefits? Ms. Kwon also said she’d write me a letter of rec if the investigation went well—”

“Y/N!” “Y/N!” You were cut off by two familiar voices calling your name from down the hall, and whipped your head around to look, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Jaemin and Renjun were rushing towards you, waving all four of their arms wildly, as if you could miss them. You squealed, darting over to them and throwing your arms around their necks.

“Oh my god!” You laughed as they hugged you tightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you guys today!”

“We were specifically not told when you were coming,” Renjun admitted. “I even got blocked out of the Executive calendars for the month.”

“Ms. Kwon just came and got us,” Jaemin said. “Though, word had already spread.”

“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” You double-checked, looking around despite being in a rather empty corner of the building. “I don’t know what people have being saying, but based on the less-than-warm-welcome we got at reception, it doesn’t seem like it’s been good.”

“Do we want to be seen with our friend?” Renjun poked the right side of your head.

“Duh.” Jaemin poked the left side of your head.

“Yeah, I didn’t miss that.” You scowled at them.

“It’s so weird seeing you in normal clothes,” Jaemin commented, making you really look between their jumpsuits and your blouse and pants.

“It’s still a bit weird being in normal clothes,” you sighed.

“So… you going to introduce us?” Renjun nodded to where Sungchan was still standing awkwardly by himself in the waiting area.

“Yeah, come on!” You grabbed them by the arms to drag them over. Sungchan looked up from where he had been busying himself with a loose thread on his dress shirt, eyes landing expectantly on you. You let go of your friends to loop your arm with his. “Sungchan, this is Jaemin and Renjun, we used to work together. Jaemin’s desk was next to mine out in the bullpen, and Renjun was a few desks down from us. Guys, this is Jung Sungchan, my soulmate.”

You could hear your voice pitch up with giddiness as you introduced Sungchan in that way, and watched as his face relaxed into a smile as soon as you had called him your soulmate. He offered his free hand out to the other two.

“Nice to meet you guys,” he said sincerely. “I’ve heard good things from Y/N.”

“Then she must’ve been talking about a different Jaemin,” Renjun snorted.

“And a different Renjun,” Jaemin agreed.

“So, what are the wild theories about how I did it?” You asked. “Not the official one, I know you two don’t know that. But the breakroom gossip, the water cooler chat, the cereal death match chatter.”

“Rumor has it…” Jaemin lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “You were desperate to reunite with a long-lost childhood love and that’s why you applied to be a matchmaker.”

You snorted. “Cheesy.”

“I heard one about Ms. Kwon being in on it because you’re her secret daughter,” Renjun grinned.

“Ooh, that one’s good.”

“With someone with a string.”

You mock gasped. “Scandalous.”

Jaemin added, “I heard a version sort of like that, but you were Ms. Kwon and the Director’s secret daughter, which is obviously how you had enough pull to get it to happen.”

“Then how did I end up with my parents? Did they pay them off to adopt me?” You frowned, trying to figure out this bonkers drama plot of your fake life.

“Get this…” Jaemin paused for dramatic effect. “Your dad is the Director’s secret brother. So your parents are actually your aunt and your uncle.”

“I should’ve thought of that!” You shook your head, laughing.

“A lot of people don’t think you did anything, though,” Renjun assured you. “Seriously, most of the stuff I’m hearing is people being surprised that it hasn’t happened before.”

“That’s good to know.”

“PR is going to have a hell of a time,” Jaemin chuckled.

“Sucks to be Mark Lee right now, huh?” You grinned.

“Oh, I know that man has been sleeping under his desk for the past two weeks.”

You wrinkled your nose. “God, the seventh floor has got to be fucking rank by now. Please tell me Jeno and Donghyuck have at least been making him go home to shower.”

“Chenle did.” Your friends said in unison, making you burst into laughter at the mental image.

“God, I would’ve paid money to see that.” You chuckled. As much as you loved seeing your friends again, this wasn’t where you belonged anymore, and you had skipped lunch in that unnecessarily long interview. So with a sigh, you announced, “Anyway, it was so good to see you guys again, but we need to get going, and I’m sure you have work to finish up.”

“Unfortunately,” Renjun sighed.

“We’ll get drinks—dinner and drinks, the usual place—all four of us,” Jaemin declared as he went in to hug you goodbye. “Okay?”

“For sure,” you agreed with a grin. “You still need to give me my fucking book back, Na Jaemin.”

“He’s just a fucking thief!” Renjun complained as he went to hug you as well. “Bye, Y/N. See you again soon.”

The guys all exchanged a final wave and ‘nice to meet you,’ before your former coworkers headed back. You looked up at Sungchan, about to ask if he was ready to go, and saw him already gazing down at you thoughtfully.

“What?” You asked instead, furrowing your brow.

“Now I get how you could stand working here for five years.” He rubbed your back. “It wasn’t the Factory itself; it was the people you found here.”

“W-Well yeah. I liked my coworkers. But I also liked my job.”

“Yeah, but I like my job too, and I work alone at my studio. I like that. I prefer that. If I had to make small talk with a bunch of different people all day on top of doing my job, I think I’d start biting people,” he explained. “You didn’t just make small talk, you made friends.”

“I guess I’m a people person,” you shrugged, never really thinking about something that was so normal to you. “Is that weird?”

“No, it’s good. Just want to make sure you have people around that you like at your new job too.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “Now come on, if your lunch in there was anything like mine out here, then it was approximately four saltine crackers and some water.”

“Where are we going to eat?” You asked as the two of you headed towards the stairs.

“I live nearby. I want to talk about whatever the fuck that skeeze did in there for seven hours.” His voice was tense again at the mention of the interview. After a beat, he tacked on almost nervously, “If that’s okay. We can go somewhere else if you want.”

You encircled an arm around his waist as the two of emerged into the empty courtyard. “Your place works for me. I agree, we shouldn’t talk about that out in the open.”

Despite Sungchan both picking you up and walking you home from seeing each other many times over the past couple weeks, you had yet to actually be in each other’s homes before. You hadn’t even seen the outside of his place. You knew the general area of where he lived, as he had mentioned it while giving context for some stories he’d told you. The two of you also hadn’t been this… touchy before. Whenever you saw him, it always felt sort of like you were hanging out with a friend, if you ignored the string. You didn’t hug hello or goodbye, didn’t hold hands, nothing other than the little teasing elbow digs. It never occurred to you to really bring it up to him before, that technically, according to Bureau statistics, you two were taking it slow, because that would be a fucking weird thing to say—and also, you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind doing this at whatever pace it happened at.

But now, all of this all at once, it was making you a bit dizzy. In a good way, if that was possible, but still off-kilter.

Sungchan stopped in front of the door to a townhouse in a long row of townhouses, each one with a different, colorfully painted door. His was pistachio green. When he finally opened it up and pulled you in by the hand, you immediately started looking around with eager eyes. He said he hated people looking at his art and making assumptions about him, but he said nothing about his home.

“Kitchen, living room, and laundry room are on the first floor, bedroom and bathroom are on the second,” he told you over his shoulder, taking you through a narrow entryway before emerging into the connected living room and kitchen area. You already knew his studio was at a different location from his home due to the sheer scale of the pieces he made.

His walls were all filled with art, but you immediately figured it wasn’t his. They were drawings, paintings, doodles on napkins, anything and everything. It looked like dozens, maybe even hundreds of different artists in all sorts of styles. Some professional, but most clearly not.

“Everyone who comes to my place has to pay,” he explained. “They owe me a piece of art.” Walking over to the very first wall that your eyes would see upon entering, he pointed to a piece of copy paper with random crayon scribbles on it that was displayed dead in the center. He grinned. “Not even babies are exempt. My nephew.”

“What happens when you fill up your walls?” You asked curiously, following him into the kitchen, which had even more art.

“Guess I’ll have to find a bigger place with bigger walls.” He seemed to be searching for a specific piece, then pointed to a small napkin drawing of seven cartoon heads grinning. “Sohee. Guy said he couldn’t draw then busted that out after some soju. With a pen! I know you haven’t met the other guys, but it looks just like us. Guess which one’s me.”

You hummed thoughtfully, then pointed to a face in the top left.

“Yep!” He beamed proudly, as if it had been his own drawing. He started naming all the other guys in the drawing. “Shotaro, Wonbin, Sohee, Seunghan, Anton, and Eunseok.” Then, he drew your attention to what looked like an invoice for air conditioning repair services, with a pencil sketch of an older woman in the corner of it. “A/C repair guy. Just pulled that out of nowhere. It’s his wife, they met when he went up to her in public saying she was so beautiful he had to draw her. That was before they had their strings. He said he just knew, would’ve known without the string anyway. His art didn’t take off, hence why he was my A/C repair guy.”

“So is it a piece of art every time a person comes over, or just one piece of art, and that’s the toll paid forever?”

“One piece of art per person, debt is cleared forever,” he clarified, opening his fridge to root around in it. “I’ve had some artist friends defer their pieces for future visits because they wanted to make a proper, good piece. You know, put real time into it.”

“It’s good, Sungchan,” you grinned, still looking around at more of the art on the walls. “I love it all.”

“I know, now I don’t have to worry about my furniture matching my décor.”

“Yeah, but it’s also…” You breathed in happily as you tried to figure out how to say it. “You called me a people person earlier. You are too, just in a different way.”

He looked around doubtfully. “You think so? I literally said I would bite people if I had to talk to them. I don’t know if my people skills are really up to par for being labelled a people person.”

“Your entire house is wallpapered in art from just ordinary people that you’ve met. Your friends and family, an A/C repair guy. Call me crazy, but I think you like people.”

“Huh. Never thought of it like that.” He grabbed a few more things from the fridge, then the pantry. “Anton just calls it a weird powerplay, and one time Eunseok said he thought I like ‘asserting my dominance.’”

You laughed, “Maybe you’ve just got weird friends if they think you asking them to make you art is you trying to dominate them.”

“Not going to argue with you there.”

“Can I defer my art to another visit?” You requested. “I mean… I’ll probably be over more than once, right?”

He smiled softly. “Probably. And sure, you can defer. But you’re not getting out of it just because you’re my soulmate. If anything, I think that means you definitely owe me something I can point to when people come over and say, ‘my soulmate made that one.’”

After getting a quick and simple lunch together, you and Sungchan took it to his living room to eat, as he didn’t have a dining table. You sat with your back against the arm of the couch, facing Sungchan as your legs were criss-crossed under you.

You started, “So, what did AD Yang—” “Who?”

“The guy who interviewed us? The man with Ms. Kwon?”

“Oh, the skeeze.”

“Yeah. So what did Mr. Yang—” “Who?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting to keep the amused smile off your lips. “So what did the skeeze ask you? I want to know that first, before we talk about mine. Because like, when I think about the amount of time it took Jeno to walk you up there, introductions, goodbyes, then for Jeno to take you to the waiting room, then come get me… I mean, that whole time was like fifteen minutes. So you probably only talked to them for a few minutes, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was just a bunch of stuff they probably already knew.” He shrugged. “When did I realize I had the string? When did you and I meet? Did I know that you worked at the Factory when we met? When did I learn that you worked at the Factory? Did I know you before the string? Did I know anybody else at the Factory who could have manipulated the match for me? Then… that was it.”

“Makes sense. You didn’t have any ties to the Factory other than me.”

“So what the fuck happened in there that the skeeze thought he needed to take seven fucking hours?”

“I don’t think it would have taken that long, except…” You scratched your head awkwardly. “I’m the one who read our match and submitted the match report.”

Sungchan’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? But how did you not— Don’t you look that stuff up?”

“Reading the matches, and looking up the profiles, it’s all anonymous. It’s not like I saw it and my brain read it as ‘Jung Sungchan and Y/L/N Y/N.’ It was just… sort of like, the impression of profile numbers, I guess? It was like any other match to me, there was nothing special about it to me.” You screwed your face up as you desperately tried to both explain the matchmaking process to someone who had never been near the process at all, and as you tried to recall anything about that specific match at all, which you of course couldn’t. “And the profile numbers when I looked them up, it didn’t show me names or pictures, or any sort of identifying data when I would do that. It’s all completely anonymous, for good reason.” When you opened your eyes again, Sungchan was still staring at you, and your stomach dropped as you realized what you had just said. “Sungchan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that you’re not special, of course you are, but when I would be matching, you’re sort of not yourself and—”

“Woah, woah, sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out and make you worry like that,” he apologized, setting his bowl aside and turning to fully face you. “I was just thinking… How many people get to say that their soulmate was the one who gave them their own red string? Like, that’s so cool.”

“Uh… nobody? We’re probably the only ones.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t matter if it felt special to you in that moment or not. Because it still was. I mean, did it feel special when you decided to stop and look at that book at the bookstore? In the split-second that you made the decision?”

You shook your head. “No, I just, wanted to look at the book.”

“And me running after the Frisbee when Anton missed for like the sixth time that morning didn’t feel special in that second. But both of those things were, because it took both of them happening at the same time for us to meet.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at your food, then up at Sungchan. Setting your bowl aside as well, you then asked, “Is that what a soulmate is, then?”

“What? A Frisbee nearly hitting you in the face?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I mean—Jaemin, Renjun, and I were talking one night, and we were debating about what a soulmate really was. I was in an existential spiral over our red string, they were having a fun little philosophical discussion. They didn’t know about the string yet. We couldn’t decide if a soulmate was just the best that you do, or somebody who would make you better, or infinite second chances.”

“So what do you think a soulmate is now?”

“Someone that makes all the nooks and crannies in your life special, even if they wouldn’t usually be. Just by being there.”

Sungchan absolutely beamed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. I… like that.”

“What do you think a soulmate is?”

“I’ve always figured every pair of soulmates needs something different from each other,” he replied. “And I think you figured out what we need from each other. To make all the nooks and crannies of our lives special just by being there.”

“Okay…” You agreed softly, a fond smile coming to your lips as he offered his hand out, palm out. You set your hand atop his, your chest squeezing your heart at the same time Sungchan squeezed your hand.

“Now… tell me everything that fucking skeeze said. Everything you can remember.”

“Oh my god, Sungchan.”

“You were in there for seven hours, Y/N!”

“He asked me the same one and a half hours of questions like five times. I was going to start biting people by hour three.”

[sungchan: omw :) ]

[you: okey!]

[sungchan: :( ]

[you: okey! :) ]

[sungchan: :) ]

Laughing to yourself at Sungchan’s attachment to emoticons in texts, you grabbed the last few things that you’d need for your date today. It was the last week that his exhibit was available at the museum, and between your hectic schedule of interviews, and phone interviews, and callback interviews for jobs, in addition to his own schedule, this was finally the day that you two had been able to arrange to go together. A few minutes later, your phone lit up again.

[sungchan: outside :) ]

[you: omw down <3 ]

You saw him start typing, but then he stopped, presumably figuring that he’d be able to tell you whatever it was to your face in thirty seconds. Rushing down, you threw open the front door already with a smile that only grew tenfold as you looked up at Sungchan.

“Hi!” You greeted him, locking up behind you before giving him a hug.

“Good morning.” He readjusted your jacket, pulling it more snugly around your collar for you. “You going to be warm enough in that?”

A cold snap had come through last night, dropping the temperature and forcing you to get your fall wardrobe out early. You raised an eyebrow, looping your arm with his to pull him over to the bus stop to wait. “The museum is heated inside, isn’t it?”

“Well yeah…”

“Then I think my biggest problem would be having to carry a heavy jacket around the museum the whole time.”

When the bus arrived, you were just a bit disoriented by there being completely different passengers—after all, it was a different time of day than your previous daily commute, and you and Sungchan went to sit in a different row. You took the window seat, always loving to watch the passing scenery, and to give Sungchan the extra leg room of the aisle. As the bus took off, you squinted, unable to see much through the fogged-up glass. Sungchan reached a hand past you, and you watched with interest as he drew a heart in the condensation on the window. You giggled and took your own pointer finger to the empty space in the heart, carefully tracing out JSC, then your initials, then a plus in the middle, feeling very much like a preteen doodling on your math homework.

When you looked back at him, you saw that his ears were pink, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or not, but he grabbed your right hand with his left, both of your index fingers still a bit chilly from drawing on the window. He rested your linked hands on your lap, and though you couldn’t quite see it from this angle, you knew that the string that connected your pinkies was complete. You leaned your head on his shoulder to look out the window, through the lines made with your little heart.

At the art museum, you excitedly stuck your visitor sticker to your shirt before pulling Sungchan in further by the hand. You looked up at the huge skylight in the main atrium, providing an abundance of natural light on a large abstract sculpture in a bold orange color. “It’s beautiful in here.”

“Have you ever been to this museum?” Sungchan asked curiously as you stopped to watch a cloud pass over the skylight.

“No, I haven’t,” you replied quietly, turning your gaze down to the sculpture in front of you. “I’ve lived here my whole life and it’s one of those places that I’ve always been meaning to go to but, I don’t know, I just haven’t yet.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some places like that,” he said in understanding. “Let’s make a list, both of us. And we’ll cross them off together.”

“Okay, yeah.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “Together.”

Sungchan’s exhibit was in the first gallery past the lobby atrium, and you two had gone at a pretty perfect time for it to be empty of everybody except the docents. You came to a stop as soon as you entered, unsure of where to put your eyes first. When you heard large-scale mixed media collages, you weren’t sure if you had really processed how large ‘large-scale’ was. The gallery was probably fifty meters across, the longest wall being taken up entirely by one single piece. There were only five pieces total in the gallery, one on each wall and one suspended in the middle of the room. You were sure that you could spend hours just looking at one of them.

You decided to start at the one closest to you, and work your way towards the back, where the entrance to the next gallery was. There was a plaque with information about the piece and the artist on it, which you entirely discarded. You commented on things you liked or found interesting as if you were just talking to yourself, not expecting Sungchan to respond at all. And truly, you were just talking to yourself, mostly gasping and muttering all of these things under your breath with delight—after all, you were in a museum, you had to use your inside voice. He’d sometimes chuckle or hum with interest, but that was the extent of him engaging with your commentary, just following you as you slowly trailed down the pieces, then sometimes jumped back to a place that you had already looked over as you made a connection, then went down again. Until you finally made it to the behemoth piece.

Despite being the largest, it had the most fine detail, the smallest individual parts making it up. And that almost felt intentional. Part of you wanted to ask Sungchan that, but you bit your tongue. Instead, you raked your eyes over every square centimeter, drinking in as much as you possibly could. The docent who was standing in the corner switched out while you were looking over that piece, and for a brief second, you wondered if any of the employees had recognized Sungchan. It had never occurred to you that random people on the street would, but in the art museum where he quite literally has an exhibit displaying his art, under his real name… If they did, nobody had made any indication as to such.

Then your attention was sucked back in by the collage in front of you. By the time you were finished, you weren’t sure how much time had passed, only that your feet hurt. You didn’t say anything to Sungchan, only gave his exhibit one more proud look before turning the corner into the next gallery. This one had a dark, heavy curtain dividing it from the rest of the museum, and you immediately knew why. There was a sign at the beginning, the letters lit up so you could read it: ‘The Beauty of Light’

The building’s main overhead lights were completely out, so that the only light provided was from a few along the floor so you could see your step, and the exhibit itself. There were mirrors, glass panes, and colorful lights set up all around the room, refracting all sorts of seemingly impossibly arrays of colors and designs along the surfaces.

“Woah…” You breathed out, reaching out to catch a rainbow on your palm, immediately laughing with wonder.

“It’s interactive,” Sungchan informed you, adjusting the equipment making the rainbow so that there was a whole starburst of rainbows all across you.

“Okay, that’s really fucking cool.” You could feel the huge grin on your face.

“I really didn’t want to see you reacting to my art, actually. I usually hate seeing people looking at my works.”

You looked up at him, confused. “Then why did you want to come with me?”

“I knew they had this exhibit here, and I knew I had to be there when you saw it.” He moved the glass just a bit more, and you weren’t sure where the rainbows had ended up now, but he seemed satisfied as a tender smile came to his lips. “Beautiful.”

“It’s incredible,” you gushed, looking around the room at more of the cool effects being done with lights, then back to Sungchan. You held your hand out towards him, and he walked out from behind the equipment, taking your hand again. Now that he was next to you, some of the rainbows were sticking to his skin and clothes, and you couldn’t help but smile as one caught on his nose.

“Thank you for bearing through the horror of seeing somebody see your art to experience this with me,” you half-teased, swinging your linked hands. Though your words were exaggerated, your sentiment was sincere.

“I said I usually hate seeing people look at my works, but I liked watching you in the exhibit. It didn’t feel like you were performing for me,” he said with a grin. “I could probably watch you watch paint dry.”

“You’re being hyperbolic,” you scoffed.

“I’ve got some paint at my place, want to find out?”

“As thrilling as that sounds, maybe later,” you snorted. “I’m not done with the beauty of light.”

“Hey, no complaints here.” Sungchan ran his thumb over your cheek, still looking down at you with an unbelievable tenderness in his gaze. “Hm…”

“What?” You whispered, your voices suddenly sounding too loud in the empty gallery. The docent had stepped out, and another hadn’t come back in. It was just you and Sungchan in this room.

“Tried to wipe the rainbow off your cheek…”

“Let me guess, didn’t work?”

“Well, it did, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Moved to your mouth.” He traced the bottom line of your bottom lip with the very tip of his thumb, and you felt like you weren’t breathing, waiting for him to do something, anything.

“Sounds like a problem.” You put your hand over his, pushing it to your face so he was cradling your cheek.

Sungchan was smiling as he kissed you, you could feel it in the sweet press of his lips to yours, the soft tilting of your chin up to meet his. You squeezed the hand down by your side even tighter. He broke the kiss as gently as he had started it, still smiling down at you. You suddenly shot up to your tiptoes and wrapped your hand around his neck to pull his head down so you could peck the bridge of his nose, giggling when you had released him and he stood back up with a confused but affectionate look on his face.

“And what was that for?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You had a rainbow on your nose.” You told him very seriously. “We’ve established that you have to kiss them off, obviously.”

“Well in that case—” He proceeded to kiss your forehead, cheek, hair, and mouth again in quick succession.

You were laughing, your entire body buzzing from head to toe as you leaned against him both in a bid just be closer, and also because you felt like your knees might just give out. When you heard footsteps enter the gallery again, you bit your lip to stop your giggles, and Sungchan left you with one more fleeting peck to your temple before standing up straight and bringing you over to the next area of the exhibit.

Groaning and sleepily rolling over onto your back, you were vaguely aware of the fact that you had rolled directly back into someone’s chest, and contentedly snuggled further into your position. An arm snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush to theirs, and you smiled to yourself as you started drifting back off to sleep.

“Y/N?” Came a low rumble of your name from behind you.

You were nearly asleep again, and decided to just pretend you didn’t hear him.

“Baby?” He whispered, a little louder.

“Shh, Sungie,” you hummed. “Still sleeping.”

“Y/N…”

“Sungchan, my love, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

Deciding your discussion was finished, you rolled onto your front again and pushed your face into your pillow. He just followed you to that side of the bed, and you felt the pillow dip as he rested his head on it as well. Sungchan ran a hand up and down your spine, the covers dropping lower with his movements.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to be letting you sleep in today, you lifted your face out of your pillow and propped yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. “What is so important that I can’t sleep in on a Saturday when I don’t have to open?”

“You said you wanted to go to that breakfast place, and it closes in an hour,” he informed you quietly, face reminding you very much of a guilty puppy in that moment.

You looked at the time on his bedside clock, and flopped back down with a groan. “Well it’s too fucking late now. Next week.”

“Sorry, baby.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I would’ve woken you up sooner, but usually you’re the one who wakes me up for this kind of stuff. I just woke up a couple minutes ago.”

“Mm, it’s okay, Sungie,” you sighed and turned onto your back, offering him a sleepy smile to let him know that you weren’t mad at him at all. Now in a particularly lovely and warm patch of sunlight, you couldn’t imagine even getting up to go to the bathroom, much less a restaurant. “I think my sleep schedule from working at the Factory is finally gone. My body isn’t used to getting up for a nine to five anymore.”

“Oh, hold on.” He reached for his phone off the nightstand, and you immediately knew what was coming based on his change in demeanor. With a half-resigned, half-endeared sigh, you threw an arm over your face to hide it as he stood up to start taking pictures of you. He called for you with a slight whine in his voice, “Baby…”

“I have bedhead and morning breath, Sungie.”

“You can’t tell if you have morning breath in a picture.”

“And the bedhead?”

“So? Prettiest bedhead I’ve ever seen.”

“Subject gets to decide if you see her bedhead.”

He was quiet, but his pout was deafening as he continued taking pictures of you laying in the morning sunlight.

“Actually…” There was a curl of a smile in his tone as he plopped back down on the mattress. “I like it. Reminds me of those Baroque statues of Greek goddesses.”

You dropped your arm from your face and shuffled closer to be able to peer at his screen. The similarity of the pose was uncanny, but it also reminded you of something else.

“Or Ophelia…” You snorted.

“She doesn’t have an arm over her face.”

“Yeah but like, the general vibe, you know?”

He laughed, sinking into the pillows to make a few minor edits to the color toning. You settled your head on his chest to mindlessly watch him work, knowing that at least one of these photos would be printed out and added to the wall.

When you had admitted to him one night that you felt a lot of pressure over what piece of art to make him to put on his walls as part of his house rule, he suggested that the two of you make one together. So far all of his guests’ art had been relegated to the first floor, so the walls of his bedroom were entirely blank. Starting in the middle of the largest wall, above the long side of his bed, you two had begun a collage. Adding pictures that you two took of each other, pictures other people took of you two, pictures you took of places that you went on dates together, and any miscellaneous thing from your time that had acquired fond memories and Sungchan could figure out a way to stick to the wall. It had slowly started growing, and sometimes you liked to just lay in bed and look at it. One time you’d asked Sungchan what he was going to do when he moved out of this place, and he’d said cut out that section of wall and take it with him. At the time, you had laughed, but now you weren’t so sure it was a joke. Honestly, they could just put more wall in, right?

“There,” Sungchan murmured with finality, and you heard his portable photo film printer start whirring to life from his desk in the corner.

“Put it up later,” you requested, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face in his neck. “Don’t want you get up…”

“Fine by me.” He hugged you to him tightly, readjusting you so you were practically on top of him. “Are you on the afternoon shift or the closing shift?”

“Ahrin had her sister’s wedding today, so I’m doing afternoon and closing.”

“God, nobody else could take her shift?”

“I needed the money,” you shrugged. “Severance pay is gone and amazingly, part-time bookstore clerk doesn’t pay as well as full-time matchmaker at the Factory did.”

You’d been having a difficult time finding a job since quitting the Factory. Despite companies and organizations seemingly tripping over themselves to want to interview you, it was crickets when it came time to actually follow through after that. Even with your immaculate letter of recommendation from Ms. Kwon. At most of the interviews, you got the distinct impression that they just wanted a chance to meet the Factory employee who “rigged it,” and not actually interview you. After all, who would want such a dishonest and untrustworthy employee at their company. The only place that had offered you a job was your favorite bookstore by the park, which you were more than grateful for.

“I told you, you can live here,” Sungchan reminded you gently.

“I already practically do,” you retorted. “But I still have a lease on my place, and have to pay whether I’m here seven days a week or not.”

“Then why don’t you cut your lease? Isn’t there an early leave payment or something? That has to be cheaper than continuing to pay for the next however many months when you don’t even live there.”

“I—” You swallowed thickly, your voice getting smaller. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I mean that.”

“Me actually moving in?”

“Yes, you actually moving in.”

“Okay.” You beamed into his shirt. “I’ll look into the early leave payment.”

“Send your lease to Jihun to look over,” he suggested, referencing his sister’s husband.

“He’s not a lawyer.”

“No, but he’s got a couple. And he’s good with contracts and haggling. Bet he can get that fee payment cut in half.” You lifted your head, about to argue with asking for favors like that, when Sungchan cupped your jaw and tilted your chin so you were looking right at him. His red string hung in the air just in the corner of your eye. He held your gaze steadily. “It’s what family does, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you murmured, nodding against his hand. “Yeah, family.”

He pulled you forward and up to crash your lips together, his fingers tangling in your hair, and your hands flew to his chest to keep yourself upright. You felt your love for him filling every nook and cranny of your body, and you knew it was something special, because it was yours.

➥ masterlist

[springalwayscomes]

Closer: Too Close (II)

Closer Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Before this comes: Closer: Too Close Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… closer may be too close for you to handle.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 47.5k

Content Warning: Dirty talk, swearing, pining, mentions of masturbation, masturbation, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, squirting, public sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, love making, creampie

Author’s Note: Hello, here it is!! Honestly I didn’t think I would write a second part to Closer, I felt like the end of that was the best I could give to these two, but it received so much love and when I read it again I couldn’t hold myself back. Still, I consider the first part the main one, you can read that without having to read this. I would add though, that these two here just make me want to scream for the bond they have. I didn’t say the time I would publish it to feel a little more relaxed with the editing but you asked me before and I thought I’d make it on time for 1 am KST so sorry if I kept you waiting! I hope you’ll like this, and happy birthday Jungkook! Take this as a little gift💜

P.s I hate tumblr, I had to split the story in different parts because it was too slow and apparently every post has a limit of 1000 blocks, so here you’ll be able to find the beginning of your reading:

Closer: Too Close, it’s all part of the same story!

If you want to be tagged in my taglist to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook is standing not too far, eyes on the ground and hands deep in the pockets of his skinny jeans he munches on his lips nervously and you see already that he’s trying to take in deep breaths, his chest is swelling.

«Koo» you call out as you get closer. He turns immediately, eyes meeting yours without any efforts.

«What happened?» 

He shakes his head, looks over at the building in front of him. You take his side, attach your back to the wall of the restaurant.

«What is it?» you ask. 

«Talk to me,» your hand strokes his back «please?»

Silence fills the space between you, the space outside, every road near to you for a second. Time goes by slow as you wait for him to say anything, the way his breath comes out shaky makes you munch on your lips. A clacson echoes from afar and Jungkook finally opens his lips, but just to close them again for a few seconds.

«I- We’re still the same» he blurts out. 

«We’re still best friends and you’re still my friend» he doesn’t even look at you as he speaks.

«What- what does that mean? Of course, we’re still-»

«You’re still my best friend and it’s fucking killing me, Y/n» he finally faces you. What you read in his expression is scary, it makes you lower your shoulders and double check for any signs of teasing, but there’s isn’t any.

«What- I’m not following you» 

«I can’t-» he shakes his head «I can’t do this. I love you so fucking much it’s freaking killing me and you’re here putting Taehyung’s perilla leaves in his rice when I can’t even hug you in public» 

«What-»

«What what?» he exclaims, gesturing with hands «You’re still my best friend! Nothing changed and I-»

«Everything changed, Jungkook!» you can’t believe what he’s saying.

«I love you! What do you mean nothing changed?»

«It doesn’t matter- not- it matters, fuck it matters, but it doesn’t matter cause I can’t show you!» his tone raises. 

You feel the need to wrap your arms around him suddenly. You’re blowing smoke through your ears but the need to make him calm down takes over and all you end up doing is take him in your hold and squeeze him tight. Jungkook stays limp with his head hanging onto your shoulder, eyes watering as your hands stroke his back. It remembers him of when he was shaking and crying before he blurted his feelings out, the fear of losing you and the need of having you but not as close as he wants look kind of similar now. He knows, fuck he knows it deep inside him that your love is enough, more than enough actually, more than he ever could ask for, but having to restrain himself from showing it it’s so fucking hard that it’s killing him. Especially when he sees you do those little gestures for the others, while he keeps repeating himself that he should be careful. You’re not even the same as before, it’s all blurred just like his vision right now.

«Talk to me?» you whisper. He lets out a deep breath, shaky and frail, totally vulnerable now that he has you wrapped around him. He digs his nose into your skin, nuzzles in the crook of your neck just for the sake of it. He has you, he repeats to himself. He has you.

«I feel like-» he gulps «like I have you only when we’re alone. Like- you belong to me only when we’re together»

His fingers entangle with the cloth of your dress as you stroke his neck slowly. You wait for him to add more, but there’s only the raise of his chest against yours following.

«Why did you have to do that?» he whines high pitched.

«What did I do?» you hum. His digits dig into your back.

«The perilla leaf» he whines again. It hits you just now and Jungkook feels his cheek burn at his words cause he knows that it may sound childish, but it’s just- annoying. 

«You’re- the perilla leaf? You’re jealous?» you can’t believe it.

«Cause I peeled off his perilla leaf?»

«Yes!» he nuzzles his nose deeper into you, almost as if by doing so his mind could hide from the outwardly flimsy problem.

«You should do that to me! It’s intimate, too sweet to do with him!»

«Jungkook, I was helping Taehyung out, he’s my friend» 

«You helped him with your chopsticks, that you put into your mouth and eat from, and it’s- why didn’t you do it with me?» he mewls. You seriously don’t think you should be laughing right now, cause he’s serious and it’s something important for him yet you can’t help but find the situation amusing.

«You were fine on your own!» you blurt.

«And I would’ve done the same if-»

«No you wouldn’t, cause you don’t want them to know that there’s more between us» he squeezes you tighter but levels his face to yours, blinking as he takes in your closeness.

«We’re barely speaking when we’re all together. You’re so into not showing what we are that you’re barely acting like you’re my best friend, it wasn’t like this before»

«That’s not true! I-»

«The other time, you didn’t greet me,» he reminds you of what happened at Eunji’s place «yesterday when I came in you didn’t say anything»

«Cause they were there» you huff back, but he just raises his eyebrows and nods.

«Yes, but it wasn’t like this before. You- didn’t even say hi. Earlier too, all you do is… getting far. I can’t even put my arm around you anymore that- you feel the need to part, at Taehyung’s place too, why do we have to wait?» he keens at the last sentence.

«You’re far, too far and I- I can’t… I don’t like this. I feel like we’re not- like we’re back at having each other but not wholly. I want- shit, I want you. I want to have you, in front of everyone,» he blubbers as he stares down at you «I don’t want to care if they see us being too sweet or clingy and just being a couple» 

Jungkook isn’t filtering his words anymore. His chest feels heavy and now he realises that- it was this that was making him annoyed. Getting to you for a second but feeling distant the second later, this continuous game of seesaw where you’re on the same board, apparently on the same page but still so far and out of reach, you balance yourself on the same point only for just a second, and then you’re back to where you were.

His breath fans your face and your hair tickle your skin, he lays his forehead on yours: «I can’t hold it back, I’ve been holding myself back for so much time that… I don’t want to. And I know that you need time and you’re doing this to get used to us and it’s going to happen soon anyway but- I just wish I could show you. I want to do the same that Jin does with Hana and Yoongi with Hyunjoo and even Jimin with Eunji, I-» he stops himself to let out a deep breath and tries to regain his lucidity. 

He knows, he knows that you’re doing this to love him in the right way for you but… he just can’t hold it back anymore. Too much time, too many years, too many moments in which he wished he could just be more for you, too many feelings never told or shared. Your love is enough to keep him through all of this, to make him keep going without asking a second time to where you’re heading, but when you seem out of reach its just-

«It’s scary» he realises.

Silence fills the air up again and for a moment Jungkook feels as far as he’s ever been even though he’s in your arms in front of you, just an inch away.

«I’m scared» he breathes out. His eyes previously lost in thought now look at you with more focus.

«It reminds me of when we were friends and all I could do was wonder how it could be and have you only when we had sex. When I made love to you that time, I-» he shakes his head «I felt like it was going to be the most I could get of you, and I needed to cherish it and live it as much as possible cause I knew that you didn’t want more from me and that that was all I could get. Like I had to get enough from it, cause it was the closest I could have you and in the deepest way possible. That time, it felt consuming and I cried so much when you left my bed cause I knew- I knew that it was it, just that»

«Even though I had you in the deepest way possible you- you weren’t mine. And I know that it’s different now cause we talked about it and we’re trying but- I don’t want to feel this,» his fingers cradle the shirt on his chest «I don’t want to get just enough of you» 

He munches on his lips for a few seconds, eyes low on his shoes as he tries to understand the right words to say, they just get mixed up and all he can do is hoping for you to realise what he’s meaning.

«I want to love you. I wanna be sweet and gentle and I want to see your eyes shine when you look at me cause you’re in love with me as much as I’m in love with you. I don’t want to always wish for us to be alone to be able to have you in this way, and I know that you’re doing this to get used to us and feel more comfortable but it’s making me lose my mind. Taehyung is always hugging you and doing all kinds of stuff and I’m- I’m your boyfriend» it sounds more like a question than an affirmation «and I can’t even hug you as I used to cause you think they would understand. I can do it, but know just- it’s killing me»

His rant comes to an end. He just shuts his mouth, regains his breath as he looks at your face, he desperately tries to understand what you’re thinking and feeling, his heart thumps in his throat and he’s sweating even though it’s almost about to rain and there’s a soft wind blowing. Truth is, his words leave you thoughtless. You don’t know what to think, what to say, what’s the right answer. Because inside you, you’re the one who wants him wholly. You want him, crave for his love, need his lips, yearn for his comfort and words, breathe for his presence. But outside, when you’re met with the world, all you can do is face the way you are and understand what you should be doing to make this relationship solid and strong. Maybe you’ve been wrong all along and should’ve just lost your senses to him from the very beginning. You should’ve told to everyone what happened between you and should’ve just took it as it was, but something inside you doesn’t fit well with it because you just don’t feel ready enough. You love him, you love him so much you’d be ready to do everything he asks you to, but this somehow makes you quiver. 

«I’m scared too,» you breathe «cause what if- like, what if we do this and it doesn’t work? What if we’re not ready, if I can’t love you right? I know Jungkook my friend and how to love you in that way, I don’t- it’s sounds stupid, but what if the way I love you isn’t what you were seeking for me all this time and I just- let you down? If I’m not enough and everyone knows, what will we do then, these are the thoughts that stop me. Not for our friends or in general, but for us too, how will we act? I’m scared because- fuck, the thought of losing you makes me freeze in fear, Jungkook. I’m trying, I’m really trying to getting used to this but before- before it was… it didn’t feel like a thin line between us. Like, I knew that you were there even if we screamed and yelled at each other, you were just there. If we break up, our friendship… what will happen to that? What-»

«It’s not happening» he cuts you off. You shake your head.

«You say that now, but-»

«No, I say it cause it’s not happening, in any near vision of the future I have or the rarest ones» his nostrils flatter as he speaks and his tone is firm and still as a mountain on the ground, roots deep and strong in his soil.

«I loved you for six years. I went through hell just to get to this, I loved you for every second of the day and all I did was be beside you,» he clenches his jaw «it’s simply not happening. For me, at least. I know what I feel, and I know that the only reason I kept staying beside you was because of you, simply. I love you» his eyes are watering.

«I love you so much that I don’t picture myself without you. I don’t see a future where you’re not in it, and even though I know I could live without you, I just don’t want that» he shakes his head with vigour, his eyes glued to yours make you gulp harshly.

 «Even when we fight, even now. It’s still the same as before, you can yell at me and tell me that you hate me, that I’m annoying, I’m a jerk or whatever the hell you want but- I’m grounded. I don’t move, I don’t care. If there’s a scenario in which you won’t love me anymore then-» he cuts himself off, his right eye spilling out a tear that marks his cheek «all I could do would be to accept it. But that won’t happen for me. I know it, it won’t. I’ll be waiting with my arms open like I told you last time and the time before, even in this kind of relationship. You’re still my best friend, other than my partner and- I won’t waver. I promise you, and I’m so sorry if in some way I made you think that you couldn’t love me in the way I want you to cause- no» he scoffs as his eyes fill up more with tears.

«Hell, no. There’s no one that could love me in a better way, I- your love is just- it consumes me. It makes me feel in all kinds of way and I can’t get enough of it. I want it, all the time and in every situation because of that» he sniffles and licks his lips, the salty taste of tears makes him look down once more to the ground.

«I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want to do anything that might scare you off and I’m as scared as you now cause- what if you’re saying this cause you’re- you’re giving up? You don’t want… I can’t even say it»

«Jungkook, no» something inside you makes you grab him by his shoulders. His lips are reddish and his cheeks wet make your eyes tingle. Shit, no.

«What if I scared you off with everything I said? You might say no now but if you’re not ready to tell them, it means you’re insecure about us, right?» his lips tremble slightly and god, your heart clenches. 

«You don’t know if there’s a future for us, what I see isn’t there for you» his voice is so thin that you feel you’re about to break. And as if it wasn’t enough, it starts to rain almost as if someone from the clouds was listening ready to answer to all of his negative thoughts with a sign. His eyes stay on yours though, a shadow of fear lights them up just to hide between his pupils a second later. Jungkook munches the inside of his upper lip.

«You know I don’t move fast and I like things to take their time, right? It was just what I feel but it doesn’t have to be what you feel now, but I love you. For real baby, it doesn’t matter if for now you don’t see us together in the future, just-»

«I see that, Jungkook» you stop his words with a caress of your hand on his wet cheek, nodding. You could- you couldn’t bare the thought of him having such worries in his mind, not when your soul is so intertwined with his that you can’t see anymore where yours starts and ends.

«I see it, but it feels scary cause we’ve never been on this path before. It’s different, but I see us in that way. I’m just scared that my fantasy might not become reality, that’s- that’s why I wanted to get used to this first but now- I can’t» you shake your head. You see his face go from relieved to understanding to scared again, hands grabbing your sides at the fear of you walking away and out of his reach for the last part of your statement. He tells himself to breathe, to just wait for you to speak and relax but all he can do is hold his breath until he’s running out of air.

«I can’t do this if it hurts you. I don’t want to, so- what… what do you think we should do? Do you want to tell them? Do you-»

«I didn’t tell you all of that to convince you to tell them. It was just becoming too much and I couldn’t hold it anymore in, you don’t have to- I mean, maybe I hoped you would’ve, but you don’t have to» he pulls you closer to nuzzle his face against your neck once more. His tears wet your skin and you feel his hot breath fanning you when he realises a sigh at the contact, your body still close and your arms wrapping around him once more just as you did at the beginning of your talk. It’s reassuring, familiar. It makes him relax a bit and melt into you.

«To have you like this it’s not enough because I wish I could show you and give you more than what I can give when we’re only by ourselves, but if that’s what you want and need now…»

«Let’s tell them» you blurt. Your hand caresses his hair, eyes staring at the wall in front of you. Jungkook hums with a cute astonished tone that makes you scoff and tell yourself that it will be okay, his face raises to yours to study your features. You gulp down your insecurities for as much as you can and nod at him.

«Let’s tell them. I don’t want to hurt you by keep doing this. I think that-» you breathe in deeply, pondering on what his words made you realise just a second ago «my doubts are still going to be here for as long as I don’t get comfortable enough with this, like with myself not being scared. If it will take long, we’ll have to act like this for too much time? And I guess that if my fears are going to become real it will happen anyway even if they don’t know»

«What do you mean it will take long?» he smacks your asscheek lightly, a endearing smile appears on his lips. It makes you smile too.

«It will take long to get used to me loving you?» he scoffs loudly, eyes moving to the side for a second and then getting back to yours.

You giggle at him, squeeze him tighter «You know what I mean» you huff. 

«And yes, I’m still not used to you loving me in this way too» 

«I will help you get used to it,» he pecks your cheek «just please do what you feel more comfortable to. Don’t feel pressured or forced, I don’t wanna do that. Whatever way, baby. I’m willing to accept whatever you can give me»

«Let’s not do that anymore,» you let out a shaky breath «maybe I need to feel a bit of pressure to do this, so please pressure me? Let’s go inside and just tell them? Pressure me, please» 

Jungkook doesn’t mean to, but he laughs at your words. He laughs and throws his head back, hair a bit damp and laughter crystal clear and high pitched. Only when he comes back with his eyes on you the corners of his lips lower and set themselves on a little, sweet and reassuring smile that makes your heart fuller.

«Y/n, I can really wait. But just reassure me from time to time cause I’ve been holding back for so much and sometimes-»

«Can you reassure me too, now? And push me over the edge a little? It’s- bad to say it but I think I really needed for you to break out like this to make me gather the courage to face what really scared me. I think that it will help me to have you like this, in other situations too? Maybe it will feel more like before and my mind will stop drawing the line between friendship and- this, and realise that it’s just the same as before» 

You really believe it, or at least have faith in it. Maybe feeling him the way you used to feel him before, without having to worry of getting yourselves away from the eyes of your friends or the others in general will make you feel more comfortable, more familiar with what you’re sharing without the fear of losing it, because it’s just the same as before. Jungkook is still your best friend, will always be. You want him to tease you when your hair are both grey and to kiss you when your energies won’t be as high as now, bring some comfort and sense of youthful to your older days. To be honest, you always had that image in your mind. Even when you didn’t know what you were feeling… Jungkook was always there, in your farthest visions of future, teasing and annoying the hell out of you with his ways but still there after all the time. It’s just the same as before with this too, you guess.

«And this? What’s this?» he pinches your hip teasingly, making you hiss at him.

«Aish, Jungkook!» you keen at the muffled pain and he beams lightly, covering the injured zone with his hand. 

«Sorry,» he pouts, eyes big «does it sting?»

«A little, I felt better before» you scoff.

«This what?» you echo, he clicks his tongue.

«You said friendship and this. What’s this?» he’s smiling even as he speaks, cheekbones high. And with his eyes so deep and profound that shine even under the light drops of the rain you can see it from a mile away that he just wants to hear you say it out loud. 

«This,» you peck his petals sweetly, his bottom lip sticks out a little to maintain the contact just a millisecond more as you part, eyes dreamy «relationship?» 

He stretches out a hum: «So I’m you’re boyfriend now?» he scoffs.

You raise your eyebrows. 

«You said that before. I was just following»

«Keep following then, I like it» he titters, doing his labelled nose scrunch that makes your insides twist and turn.

«We’re in a relationship» he hums again, all smiley and lovey-dovey. You shake your head.

«Are you a teen or what?» you laugh. His chuckles make the sound of the rain become faint until it’s just indistinct silence.

«Yah, stop teasing me! We never said that out loud» 

«Just this once» you let go, slapping his asscheek.

«I think you have a problem with my butt,» he clicks his tongue «you like it a little too much, why do you slap it all the time?» he giggles.

«Aish, stop that. We should go back in» you shrug, Jungkook squeezes you just once more.

«That was- I was trying to push you over the edge?» he doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

«Guess that didn’t work» he scoffs. You can’t hold it, you kiss his lips and god yes, this works definitely. He totally wasn’t expecting it, not when you’re outside and your friends just meters away and could come out in any second, not in this way at least. So deeply and loving and needy that he moans in your mouth and his knees feel like jelly, your tongue moves in slow motions and takes all of his love from his chest just to make it yours cause it was yours already in the first place.

«Try something else?» you coo when you part. Jungkook breathes in deep, trying to regain what’s left of his sanity after your attempt at killing him with your sweet ways. 

«Are you sure, you really want it?» his tone is serious, thoughtful as he looks for any signs of quiver on your face. Having you like this it’s too much too handle but the thought of forcing you into doing something that may make you uncomfortable feels worse. When you nod sure though, all he can do is promise to try to melt your insecurities more everyday with every part of him and love you in the most honest, vulnerable and deepest way he can. He knows it from the way you’re looking at him that you’re not going to change your mind, you’re just looking for his affirmation, you just need to be encouraged.

«If you really want to, let’s tell them,» he pecks your forehead «just, not today? I feel like they have to tell us something important and I don’t want to shift the spotlight on us»

«What something?» you wonder.

«Don’t know, but it’s weird that they invited just to celebrate officially. We all already knew they were expecting» he caresses your hip as he speaks, after all it makes sense, you guess. It’s been a while since they announced Hyunjoo was pregnant, why celebrate now? They would’ve done it sooner, maybe.

«Okay» you nod. It’s weird how you feel your body lighter, you weren’t realising it before but now you do notice the difference, and it feels- less burdensome. You needed this to let go of what was holding you down and to face your fears, to make your roots stronger in the soil. You just wish for the day you’ll tell them to come soon, because you suppose that the sooner it will be the easiest too to just let go wholly.

«Do you remember what I texted you when you went away?» he lays his chin on your head, speaks as you bend your arms to place your hands on his shoulders. You nod slightly from under him, fingers dipping into his skin as his words flash in your mind.

«It will always be like that,» he mumbles. 

«even when you’re not beside me I’ll always keep my arms empty for you, even when things are fine. I’ll keep them open. Even if we fight and scream and hate each other in the moment» 

You kiss his neck, when you blink against him your eyelashes tickle him, Jungkook shivers and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s feeling ticklish or because you do things to him that he can’t explain.

«I love you» you murmur, eyes looking up at him. The rain has wetted you hair a bit, thankfully it isn’t too much and it’s already stopping, but even like this you look like you were painted by the gods themselves to him. He holds his breath, smiles first with his eyes.

«I love you too, love»

When you came in your friends were cheerfully talking about Yoongi and Hyunjoo, when you strolled to the table your eyes met yours to check how you were doing. The smile that Jungkook flashed seemed enough to reassure them, making them go back to their conversation, Namjoon peeking over to double check Jungkook’s features. 

He takes his sit, hands resting on his lap before he looks at the dish still full in front of him. The rice has cooled but he’s hungry and so are you, you hear Jimin ask meat to Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok scolds him and Taehyung laughs at his request, Eunji shakes her head. You eat your perilla leaf with the rice and linger in the slightly minty flavour, humming in contentment at the taste. Taehyung’s dish is empty and you feel his gaze pierce right through you as he peeks at Jungkook from time to time, obviously trying to understand his mood and what happened. You wonder if he knows at least a bit, if the others know too. Maybe Jungkook told them when he had feelings for you? 

Eunji kicks her foot on your knee, eyes big and full of questions and you just shrug at her, making her click her tongue in annoyance. She must be thinking that you’re back to sleeping with Jungkook. You decide not to care for now, bringing another bite of food in your mouth, you will tell her soon. The evening goes on cheerfully just like most of the times; Jin talks about the restaurant, Hoseok tells you stories about his new class of dancers, Namjoon talks about the book he read recently and how it made him think about what Yoongi and Hyunjoo have.

«Yah, geumanhae» Yoongi moves his hands in front of his face, his cheeks red but he’s smiling.

«Hyung, for real!» you can say that Namjoon is enjoying making him flustered.

«It really made me think»

Hyunjoo smiles, tapping her hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

«What are you so shy about?»

«I’m not shy, I’m flustered»

«That’s the same thing!»

«It isn’t!» he raises her eyebrows at her. Namjoon shakes his head. Jimin’s laughter suddenly fills the table, loud and giggly he covers his mouth with his fist as he bends over the table. 

«Sorry, but-» he laughs again «I just remembered when Yoongi hyung came home after meeting you for the first time» he points at Hyunjoo, eyes narrowed as he keeps giggling. Jungkook and you break out too, suddenly remembering the scene.

«Aish, hajima!» He whines again and throws his head back, but the scene was just so hilarious that it would be a waste not to share it.

«She has to know this» Jimin shrugs.

«What happened?»

«I was-» he keeps on laughing «I was cooking with Y/n and Jungkook was sitting on the couch. He came in staring at his phone and didn’t even see him» 

Jungkook nods: «Actually, I was laying on the couch» he snorts

«Aigoo» she already pictures where this is going.

«He sat on him-»

«He didn’t just sit! He threw himself on the couch!» Jungkook cuts him off, face contracted in a scowl of pain.

«Me and Y/n-» he laughs pointing at you, full teeth on display.

«We just heard them from the kitchen but it was hilarious. Turns out he was staring at your pictures on Instagram» you explain.

«I never thought Yoongi hyung could wait so much,» Jungkook chuckles, hands rubbing his thighs «his weight, aish he isn’t even that big but I was sleeping and suddenly- bang!» the sound effect he makes at the end sends you rolling on the floor with laughter, Yoongi’s shocked sounds still echoing in your ears.

He covers his face with his hands, Hyunjoo laughs beside him as the others do the same. She pulls him to him, the man shakes his head and hides in in her neck, hair falling over to hide him from the embarrassment. You see her whisper something to him but don’t know what she’s saying, Yoongi nods slightly and sits back straight, a big smile on his face.

«After you’re done with making fun of me, we have something to announce» he clears his throat. Hyunjoo stands up from her chair, her hand reaching his shoulder again while she looks down at you all and Yoongi takes his place beside her with a big beam, his hand cupping her belly lovingly. Jungkook’s eyes shot wide open, lips contracted in a “o”. The table fills with silence, everyone is waiting for them to speak and you can feel the excitement bubble up for the news.

«We’re expecting-» she gets cut off by the dumbass beside you.

«A girl! I can feel it» you smack your best friend’s shoulder.

«Shut up» you scold. Hyunjoo laughs, her eyes on you two.

«Yoongi» she calls. The man beside her nods.

«A princess» he scoffs looking at Jungkook, annoyed and amused at the same time.

«It’s a girl!» he literally screams. After that it’s just smiles and happiness, everyone is clapping and the restaurant gets filled with hugs and pats and words of encouragement.

Jungkook grins widely, his teeth exposed and eyebrows raised he claps his hands and gets up to hug his friend, just after Jin. Your beam is contagious and it only makes Jungkook smile more, when you look at him his eyes sparkle. Promises to be the best aunts and uncles for the soon to come baby are shared, Yoongi is already talking about some names that they thought about, Hyunjoo has her eyes wet. 

You can’t wait, nobody can’t. Seeing Yoongi get to know Hyunjoo and fall in love was one of the experiences that you feel lucky to have witnessed. You saw him madly in love, watched him when he thought that she wasn’t the type of person to go well with him because of their different personalities, saw them fall in love and fight more than a bunch of times and do it all over again. You remember when he told you he couldn’t live anymore without her, relive the time he cried with you and Jimin cause he was missing her when they had a bad fight and she needed to spend some time on her own, see them happy now after trying for a year. Their story brings tears to your eyes almost every time you think about it, it’s one of those that you would love to read about. You love both of them so much that you couldn’t wish for anything better, cause they already are the best of the best for each other, and all you can do is start to count the days until you’ll meet the result of their incredible love.

Your house is silent and the atmosphere cozy, Jungkook’s fingers are softly stroking your hair on the couch and your mind is full of him and him only. How he talked to you today, the words he said, the safeness and reassurance they brought to your uneasy mind, the love in his eyes and the salty tears on his cheeks. It fills you up until you feel an odd sense of belonging and yearning come together and take every living fibre of your body. You snuggle your nose into the side of his neck, his hand runs down your side to engulfs you into him, back against his chest and one of his legs crossing yours laid on the pillows. Jungkook’s chest is firm under you but incredibly comfortable and you find it so big that you feel the need to turn around and hide your face into it just to feel him closer. 

Jungkook lets out a airy breath, the softness of your hair makes his fingertips oversensitive just to take in every single detail of you, your body soft and totally limp on top of him to adore, to squeeze and nuzzle into. He wishes he could freeze this moment and make it last for more than he could ever ask for, remember the sensation of it all and keep it locked inside him for when he feels low-spirited or weary. 

«Have to shower» you mumble not really inclined to leave his embrace. Jungkook pecks your head sweetly, nods under you but squeezes you tighter.

«I have to shower too. Do you wanna cuddle afterwards or are you going to bed?» his cute lisp makes you smile. 

«Wanna cuddle» you munch on your lips, you wish you could see his face when you add «in the shower»

«Hmm?» his hum is one of those that slip out when he’s excited, slightly high pitched and not sure if he heard your words right.

«Let’s shower» you nod sitting up and turning your head to him. Laid on the pillows, his mouth is open and his eyebrows raised.

«Do you want to?»

«Do- do y-you mean together?» he stutters a bit, totally taken aback. His eyes are sparkling with hope and his enthusiasm is given out when he as soon as he speaks, the cute stutter habit he’s always had when he’s enthusiastic. You nod slightly and Jungkook snaps up with his eyes wide.

«Rea- really?»

«Yes,» you smile amused«if you want to?»

«Oh-aish, yes!» he nods eagerly but stops before he passes the point of not return.

«But- are you sure? We don’t ha-»

«I’m sure,» your eyes stay firm into his «I was scared of this too, I guess» 

He gulps down, hands coming back to your sides as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

«Open up to me?» his request is low, as if he doesn’t want it to sound like an obligation but more like an invitation, soft and muffled and honey-coated. When he kisses your cheek lovingly you dive deeper against him, the firmness of his chest behind you and the cage of his arms around you make you feel safe in a way that you could never describe. You feel the most frail when you’re in his arms and the most intrepid you’ve ever been at the same time, it makes your chest swell up with a feeling that is bittersweet and so deep that you feel like drowning. 

«I guess- I didn’t want us to get too sexual?» you shake your head.

«I thought that it would end up with us fucking, every time you asked me to shower together. It’s probably just the same as sleeping in the same bed, I guess»

Jungkook munches on his lips, slightly nodding.

«You don’t want that?» he’s not asking because he wants that to happen but to understand you fully. 

«I don’t know,» you huff «I didn’t, I think. But now I don’t know, like- I was scared that by being too sexual we- kind of lost sense? And I wanted things to move at their pace, not to rush. We’re living together already and it’s like we kind of skipped the part of the beginning of the relationship, the part where you get to know each other»

«I don’t think we’re in that part,» he lets out, hands rubbing your hips «we’ve been in that part already, I think? We know each other- deeply too»

«I know, but like- know each other in a relationship like the one we have now» you explain. He nods again.

«I got what you mean. But I think it’s- we love each other» he brushes his nose against the column of your neck just to tickle you «if we’re already there, how can we go back to getting to know each other? Like- I know what you mean, but I think that only comes with time? Wether you start from something that’s different from what we already had or from our starting point- I just know that I love you. And by that I mean that I want you in whatever way you’re able to have me and be. I don’t care if I find something that I might find annoying or- I love you. I just- want you»

«I realise it now» you squeeze his cheeks between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, his lips puffy and shutting up. Jungkook frowns, hums annoyed but let’s you do your thing, booping his nose and kissing the soft flesh of his cheek. When you let go, his act of displease shatters in pieces and a big beam replaces it on full display.

«I didn’t before» 

His arms squeeze you more, he shuts his lips for a while. The feelings in his chest get so mixed up that it’s hard to discern them, he just wishes that you could read through them all to see how transparent they are in fact.

«I love you» he hums, tone childish. It’s so out of the blue that you find yourself giggling and shaking your head, eyes rolling at the way he squeezes you to him. He bites your shoulder lightly as he nuzzles his nose into your skin.

«And what do you mean by losing sense?» he suddenly stops, voice muffled. 

«Losing sense, like- only getting sexual? Doing things just to get there, I don’t want that»

«I don’t want that neither, baby» he breathes and rests his chin on you again, hydrates his lips with his tongue.

«I love when we have sex. I love it, it’s like- some type of magic and it’s so intimate and vulnerable that it makes me overwhelmed every time, but- I don’t want you to think that it has to end like that» he shakes his head.

«If it ends like that it’s good, but it doesn’t have to. I love doing things with you just for the sake of it, cause you- you’re the person I want to share myself with» 

Your head rests on his shoulder as you let his words engulf you, tone lovely and calm.

«And it- we don’t lose sense if we feel like being sexual too. It’s beautiful, it means that we’re comfortable with each other that much»

«I know but when I think about it, it scares me» you let out a heavy breath.

«Eunji… do you remember how it ended up with that guy?»

«Eunji, what- what guy? The security guard?» he frowns totally out of place. You smack him on his thigh lightly, a scoff coming out of your lips. 

«No, Koo. Hyun?»

«Hyun?» his mind is totally blank.

«Hyun, the lawyer. The guy that she was friend with for a little and-»

«Oh! Yes, I remember him» he nods eagerly. 

«What does it have to do with us?»

«I don’t know, but- when I talked to her about us and we weren’t together yet she remembered me of what happened with him. I guess that thought blocked me too»

«Eunji knows?» he turns his face, eyes big and lips open.

«She doesn’t, she knows that we used to sleep together though»

He scrunches his nose, goes back to caress your hair.

«What happened with him was- it’s not us. They didn’t have anything. We- we love each other. We’ve been friends for a long time, we saw each other in every way» he puffs out a breath.

«And even if there are times when we’ll get too sexual, that doesn’t mean that we’re just looking for sex. There’s more, there’s trust, there’s-» he stops his rant because you peck his nose «stop that, I’m trying to be serious» 

«Oh, sorry» you face in front of you and Jungkook scoffs, giving up just to peck your cheek.

«Baby, for real» he whispers.

«I think it’s normal that in a relationship there are times or periods when there is a high sex drive but that doesn’t mean that we’re looking just for sex or love each other any less» 

«I know,» you nod «I’m just scared to get too caught up into it and lose what I have around me- like, lose you»

«It won’t happen,» he clicks his tongue «it won’t cause even if we get too caught up with it, it’s not- just sex» he digs his chin deeper into your shoulder.

«It’s more, I’m not fucking you just because you’re sexy or I find you attractive- it’s a whole different thing. It’s-» his fingers turn your face to make your eyes meet him.

«I’m making love to you. Even if we fuck each others brains out or have sex in Taehyung’s bathroom, there’s always more. There are always emotions and feelings and how much I love you. Every time, every single time. Even- if it’s not romantic at all and it’s just rough and needy, I- love you»

«And to know that you could trust me that much- to make me have that part of you, to allow me to live you in that way too makes me feel so fucking good and happy. How- how could that make us senseless or pointless? It’s love, I’m always making love to you»

«Fuck, stop. You’re gonna make me cry» you don’t think you can hold his words for much longer. Hearing him say things like this makes your brain melt and your insides twist with warmth and safeness and you wish you could just hide from the world and cry your eyes out for how much and how deeply you love him. 

He huffs a giggle, kisses your nose, stares at your wet eyes. Jungkook wants to give you everything you never had, everything he can give and more than both you and him could ever imagine. He wants to shower you with all the love he has inside him and with every little spark of it that colors the world. If he could take the light from the sun just to add a drop of love and appreciation to your world, he would do it right the fuck now. You make him want to lose himself and never find it again, live in the melody of your laughter and only see the sight of your smile. If his senses could be commanded he’d feel only when his fingers trace your curves and every part of you, from head to toe, he’d smell only your perfume and taste only your kisses and your salty tears, hear only your laughter and your voice when you sing and see only your eyes and how your shoulders swell when you laugh. 

«I’m- I’m here for whatever you’re willing to give and I’ll wait for the things that you don’t feel comfortable with yet» he whispers. 

You smile, and fuck, the love he has for you. An incredible amount that he never thought was possible, so much that it makes him crazy and desperate to give it in every way possible. His lips peck yours softly, so lovingly and so feather-like that he feels you shiver against him, back pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped so tight that a world outside doesn’t exist anymore. His lips are soft and they make you addicted with the feelings they bring, your eyes stay shut even when you part. He keeps you close and rests his forehead on yours, smiles at your expression as lost as his.

«I love you,» his thumb strokes your cheek «so freaking much I can’t put it into words»

«I know,» you push yourself more into his hand «it’s the same for me. I just- love you» 

When you open your eyes, you’re not sure where the hell you’ve been for all your life. Because to lose this sight- for god’s sake, it’s almost laughable how anyone wouldn’t stop to just stare at him. Yours, he’s yours and he’s always been and for all this time, all these worries and all your insecurities- they can’t outbalance this. Nothing can, nothing when he makes you feel this way, this loved and cherished. 

«Let’s shower,» you puff out «let’s shower» 

As if it wasn’t clear enough for him the first time. Jungkook nods and his lips peck you once more, when he looks in your eyes to check if you’re certain about what you’re doing they don’t shift, don’t budge for a nanosecond. They stay firm, staring into his pupils and spurring him on more to leave the couch and take care of you and show you how deep his love is. And fuck, it’s so deep that there’s no end to him anymore. 

There’s no end to the affection his arms carry with your body between them, holding you close to him even when he’s standing and you’re smacking his ass lightly and making him giggle, no such depth was ever measured in the world. The intimacy between your souls could never be described, it’s so emotional and compelling that you both feel it in your bones, in every nerve, every fibre of your bodies. You’re addicted to it, in love with it and with him with every living piece of you. 

You stroll to the bathroom, Jungkook engulfs you in his arms, he stomps his feet against the floor making the both of you stumble twice, giggles filling the air as you enter the room. He opens the water of his shower, checks the temperature before taking off his clothes and laying them on the counter beside the sink, eyes meeting yours when he sees you standing still and eyeing him. Totally naked, you can’t tear you eyes off of him. It’s like his body was painted by Botticelli, Da Vinci maybe. Lines perfect, every ridge and curve sweet but incredibly excruciating, agonisingly beautiful so. Skin yellowish and fair, lips reddish and full, long slender fingers beckoning you to him to hold you close, closer. Close is never enough with you. His cock is half hard but Jungkook doesn’t want to do anything about it, he just wants to feel you like this, have you in this way, linger in the trust you have in him. 

You let him hug you, let him kiss you drunk. 

Your fingers on his skin feel so good that he doesn’t think he will ever get used to them, they stroke his back as his hands reach the hem of your dress to help you out of it. 

«I love you so much» he lays a smooch on your cheek. 

«We say it so much» you mumble as you hide your face in his neck. He kisses your shoulder, lets his hand dance on your back in lovingly motions.

«Cause we love so much» he breathes.

His words leave you spinning, your mind is empty but your heart is full and swollen, your eyes travel back on his face to flash a smile at him. 

«Undress me» you nod. 

He beams devilishly, «Uh? We’re getting confident»

«Oh, shut up,» you shake your head «gonna do it myself-»

«No, no. Let me» he holds you still. His fingers lower back to the edge of your dress, as he grabs the cloth to make it slide on your skin he keeps his sight on your face and feels his lungs losing air when your cheeks color of a faint shade of red, the dress halfway over your hips. His soft lips caress your nose, your forehead and a second later he slides the material off of your arms in the air and over your head- no, he leaves it on your face.

«Jungkook!» your irritated tone makes him  erupt in a laugh and finally he takes it off. Your lips are contracted in a pout, a scowl on your face.

«You’re so annoying» you whine. 

«I like annoying you,» he pulls you closer to him «you’re cute when you pout»

«I’m always cute» you nod jokingly.

«Aish, too much is too much,» he shakes his head, his right hand smacking your asscheek lightly «should I shut you up?»

«That’s rude» your eyes widen.

«Why? With kisses?» he clicks his tongue. 

«Kisses? Oh-» 

«You thought I meant-» he stops to laugh, high pitched and melodious «rude?»

«The way you said it was rude, not the- wait, don’t laugh! So annoying, I hate you» 

«Aish, such a crybaby» he fondles you into his arms, his nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you let the blood that rushed to your cheeks get back to its usual path by hiding your face on his chest. 

«It’s not the right moment for that,» he breathes «now I just want to take care of you and shower you with kisses» 

«Your cock is hard» you hum sternly, making him scoff.

«Let it be,» he puffs out «we don’t have to do anything about it. I just wanna have you like this,» he kisses your shoulder blade «close and intimate» 

His fingers tickle your thighs, they slide perfectly over the cloth of your stockings and he hums on your skin when he hooks his fingers over the band, parting enough to take them off. When he’s done, you finally build up the courage to look down, and god- you wish you didn’t. He’s on his knees, starry night eyes looking up at you, deep and love drunk, totally lost. He look ethereal and so fucking pretty that your knees buckle and you have to close your eyes for a second, only to regain what’s left of yourself. 

Jungkook’s fingers travel all the way up from your ankles to your calves, to your knees and your thighs, until they reach your hips and he cups them softly. He kisses under your belly button, makes you look back down at him and a second later he’s lowering your panties and you feel so exposed that you want to cover your eyes. It’s stupid, you know it well but to have him like this, looking at you with his nose almost against your pelvis and his eyes drawing stars in your sky, it’s different than having him in bed. You were making love all the times you were naked in front of each other, and even though you were so exposed that you felt your soul burn with his touch, having him like this hits in a different way, the same intensity, the same love for each other, the same feeling in your chests but just with a different meaning to it. 

You lift your feet one at a time to help him get the garment fully off, balancing on one leg and steading yourself with your hand on his shoulder, but when he takes them off he doesn’t get up. You see his cock twitch but his eyes never leave yours, not even when he gets closer and lays the sweetest and consuming kiss on your mound, so chaste but loving and addicting that your heart stops beating. He pushes on the ball of his feet and stands up to tower again over you, a little smile takes over his features and his eyes narrow a little, drunk by the feeling of having you like this.

Your hands move on their own, grabbing his fingers and guiding them behind your back. Jungkook smiles more, pecks your neck and your cheek, the tip of your nose and your shoulder as he fumbles with the clasp of your bra, pushes the straps down your shoulders and lets the garment slide off when he parts from you, a shiver of coldness making his way on your skin at the loss of the warmth that his body provided. He can’t wrap his head around you, how beautiful you are. Every inch of skin makes his fingers itch because he’s just that desperate to feel you, even wantonly.

«You’re breathtaking» his words comes out frail, totally vulnerable and overwhelmed.

«I love you,» he shakes his head, feeling dumb for not being able to find a word that represents his feelings more «I love having this part of you- so exposed, just for me» his shoulders fall, and it seems to you that he’s almost surrendering to the hold you have on him; in fact, he is.

«I promise you, baby, there’s always more. It’s not just when we’re having sex, it’s whatever we do. Whatever I do, there’s always more. You’re- you’re love. You’re the meaning of love- for me. Everything I do, even when I annoy you or just make dinner for you or even when we fight or- it’s because I love you so much it fucking overwhelms me. Whatever we do together, don’t ever think that it’s for the sake of it cause- fuck, I love you all the time, everything I do» he breathes. 

The distance between you doesn’t get along to the feeling of warmth you’re craving for, especially when he’s opening himself so much that his chest is looking for air and his voice is full of tenderness. You take a step closer and hold him in your embrace, Jungkook breaths out heavily, his hair tickle your skin.

«So don’t ever think that it’s just about being sexual. It’s not- it’s not like that at all. Every time you- every time you look at me, I could combust just by that. Like this too, having you like this now too makes me feel like I’m- don’t know, can’t even explain it» his voice gets more feeble as he speaks until all there’s left is his whisper in your ears and the thumbing sound of your heart echoing in the bathroom. 

Jungkook is- fucking hell, he’s your world. The colours you perceive, the air you breathe, the softness of your sheets, the warmth of the fire in full winter, your favorite dish, the feeling you get when a long and tiring day is finally over. He’s everything and anything all at once and it makes you want to let go of yourself and find yourself at the same time, love deeper than what you could’ve ever imagined. 

«I won’t,» you hug him tightly «I won’t do it anymore. Thank you, for- loving me as much as I love you» 

Your words have a strange hold on him, he smiles so fucking big but his eyes tingle and he has to bite down on his lips to keep himself rational, cause fuck- he’s still not used to this either. To finally feel you his, under his fingers, in his hold, to have your heart. All the love he had to held back sometimes slaps him in the face and when he faces the reality now it just makes him dizzy. 

«Don’t- thank me for that,» he nuzzles his face into you more «I don’t think I could ever stop» 

You feel something wet on your skin, just slightly. Jungkook sniffles, and then you get it. Your hands fumble with his hair as you kiss his skin, your fingertips dig into his back.

«Did I- did I make you-»

«No,-» he gulps down, raises his head to look at your eyes «I’m- just- fuck, I’m sorry I cry a lot lately» he scoffs to himself.

«No! No baby, just- let it out» you peck his nose. He scrunches it cutely, takes in a staggered breath.

«It’s nothing, I just- sometimes it still doesn’t feel real. To hear you say that- made me emotional, I guess» 

You smile at him. It’s sweet and home-like and a second later you’re squeezing him tighter to you and Jungkook decides to let go. He lays his chin back on your shoulder, closes his eyes, lets your motions lull him and your touch relax him. His cock is tight between you and with your movements you make it a little uncomfortable for him not to focus on the way it throbs and perceives every slight touch as pleasure, but he just lets it be. Having you close like this, so intimately and intoxicatingly bare for him makes him pine to find new ways of loving you, new ways of worshipping every invisible part of you, even the littles ones that no one else ever noticed, not even yourself. 

«Are we going in?» you puff out on his skin. He nods his head but doesn’t part yet, strokes your hair just once more. 

«I wanna lather you all up» he giggles airily and backs away, beckons you with his head to walk in the shower. Your cheeks are flushed when you take a step towards it with his eyes on you and your body, totally love drunk. He doesn’t look at you with mischief, with something that screams for more though, Jungkook just feels grateful to have this part of you. And when he comes in too you feel your heart beat louder because when you look up at him you see it truly, without even having to try; he loves and burns and drowns and breathes just to do it all over again, with you taking over every part of him. It makes you defenceless, more than you could ever handle. It makes you give up, let your hands fall and just open up to him in every way possible cause the safeness you feel with him, in this little space, right against each other, totally exposed and vulnerable, couldn’t reach you even if you were covered and tucked in the warmest blanket. 

You don’t even realise you’re drenched under the water until his hair stick to his face and he pushes them back to regain his sight, totally entranced when he hugs you under the jet. It’s warm, cozy and it feels like the sweetest place in the world when his fingers dig slightly into your skin and he nuzzles against you. He does it a lot, a habit that he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. It makes him feel closer even if it’s just for a second, it’s intimate and he likes the feeling of you so much that not doing it almost feels like squandering. 

«Thank you» it’s muffled by the sound of the water and his lips on your skin but it’s enough to reach your ears.

«For what?» you hug him back. Jungkook hums lightly.

«For letting me have this part of you,» he whispers «for trusting me this much»

«You know you’re the person I probably trust the most»

«I know,» his lips lay a mushy kiss on your shoulder «thank you» 

You smile and try to move slightly but with his body towering over yours it’s kind of mocking how you don’t manage to move of an inch.

«Soap,» you call out «come to me!»

And Jungkook is back with his giggles, crystal clear even under the water dropping down and filling up the space. 

«What? Why are you like this?» he snickers.

«You won’t make me move!» you laugh.

«I told you I’ll do it,» he clicks his tongue, still giggly «if you call it do you think it’ll come over?»

«Maybe?» you snort «Who knows?»

«Aish, jinjja» he shakes his head incredulous, his nose scrunching when he parts to look at you.

«Don’t scrunch your nose at me» you point your finger on his chest.

«What- why?» 

«Too cute,» your fingertip taps on his pec for twice or thrice «can’t stay focused»

«Too bad that now I know it?» he beams, pushes a strand of your hair away from your face.

«Aish- don’t use it against me,» you warn «are you gonna lather me or not?»

«Did I told you you’re annoying today?» he scrunches his nose, once more.

«You did,» you nod «I’m used to it»

«Unbelievable» his hand lays with a snack on your asscheek.

«Yah, and you say I’m the one who always slaps you»

«I still didn’t get the chance to kiss it» he munches on his lips, obviously teasing you with the conversation you had while making love for the first time. 

«First you should focus on the bodywash»

He scoffs, gets the bottle from the shelf behind you.

«Okay, now do I get to kiss it?»

«Jungkook!» you literally shriek and he laughs so loud that it becomes all you can hear. You watch his eyes narrow and his head fall back, his shoulders raise and fall and all you want to do is make your annoying best friend shut up and stop being so pestiferous with his teasing but you end up laughing too. Jungkook holds you against him and god, you don’t want to live another life if it doesn’t include this too. 

«I’ll stop-» he laughs «I’m just teasing you»

«I know,» you nod «you do it a lot»

He gains back his composure, closes the jet and squashes the bottle to get the right amount of soap on his hand, putting it down just behind you afterwards. He rubs his hands together a bit, just enough to get some lather. He kneels down. Looks up at you. Smiles. His hands grace over your left thigh, just above your knee.

«Does it bother you?» he coos. You take a deep breath to gather your mental strength.

«Not really» 

«It comes so naturally with you,» he smiles, his hands start to caress your skin with just the right amount of pressure as he rubs the soap in «we’ve always been like this»

«You more than me,» you shrug «it’s normal»

«It is,» he kisses your hip and you feel like you’re going to die for how much you love him «it’s my love language, I guess»

«I think it’s just your language» you scoff. Your hand moves fast and a second later he’s squeezing his eyes and hissing in surprise at your mischief actions, soaked under the jet while you giggle. You close it just a second later, glancing at the way he bites on his lips.

«Its yours too, apparently» he squeezes your thigh, lowers his hands on your calf. 

«Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault that you’re like this»

«Like this what?» you help yourself on his shoulder, Jungkook beams at you lovingly but his teasing goes on.

«So annoying» he moves on on lathering your foot, the tickly feeling of his fingers makes you wince.

«Oh, yes» you nod.

«I had to survive one way or the other» 

«Kiss?» he puckers his lips.

«Hhm?»

«Kiss, give me a kiss?» he coos all smiley. It makes you scoff, how he can move from one thing to another so quickly. Jungkook lets go of your leg as he’s done with his ministrations and you bend to lower yourself to him, his lips still wrinkled and waiting. It’s wet and just a peck but it makes you see the stars and the ocean all at once, the closeness of it. 

He lathers your other thigh, your knee, your calf, your foot, gets back up to tell you how pretty and beautiful you are, teases you some more. And then he‘s kneeling again and squashing the bottle of the intimate soap, you didn’t even notice him grabbing it from the shelf behind you, with his eyes focused on the task as he rubs his hands together. 

He kisses your hips one at a time, chaste and full affection, his eyes meet yours and when he smiles at you, you know he means something more: «I got you» he blows. 

His arm comes around you, his hand on the lower part of your back and the other one cups your pelvis, soft fingers laying just slightly on your lips. You hold your breath as Jungkook lets his fingers slide against you, they part your lips, move forwards and backwards to soap you up properly, rubbing against your most intimate part with such care and such platonically innocence that you feel your soul dance and smile. You feel loved all over, all inside. And when you smile back at him, gosh, it could sound stupid but he thinks this is one of the moments he’ll live again when he sleeps. When he dreams about you, heart pounding and exploding even with his eyes closed and his light snores breaking the silence of the night.

«You’re so pretty» the fingers on your back tap against your skin, his cheeks are full and his eyes starry. He lays a kiss on your mound just like he did before outside of the shower, all smiley and dovey and you want to squeeze him so hard until he bursts out in nothing but pink stars and dreamy clouds.

«Come back up here» you pat his shoulder. Jungkook nods, but only does so in his own way. He kisses slightly upper above your mound, upper again, again and again and more upwards until he passes your navel and still keeps going, he lays a path that divides you in two parts, split open all the way to the valley between your breasts and then up to the meeting point of your clavicles, to your throat and your chin. It’s intoxicating, you feel totally inebriated.

Your lips were made for him to kiss them, sure as hell they were. So soft, pillowy, consuming, breathtakingly so. It makes him desperate, he can’t help it, helpless and so fucking in love every second more. 

«You make me-» you take in a deep breath before he pecks your lips «feel like…»

«Like what?» he huffs against them, nuzzling his nose to yours.

«Don’t know. Like giving up» you puff. Jungkook snorts, scrunching his nose.

«Giving up?» he hums.

«To… everything,» it’s hard to put it into words «to your… love. Feel so overwhelmed everytime»

«If you do that…» he doesn’t finish his sentence, air running out with you so close.

«If I do that…» you smile. Jungkook breathes in through his mouth.

«I’d look after you,» he pecks your lower lip «please, give up» his tone is low, a little whiny, floaty. 

«Just for once,» his hand cups your cheek, his thumb moves upwards and downwards with the most saccharine motions «I love you so much»

«I’m doing it already,» you scoff to yourself «I do it every time. I forged up all of that because I don’t have defences around you. I’m always giving up, you’re too-» you gag on your air silently, shaking your head and trying to regain what’s left of you «inebriating»

«Let it consume you then,» he kisses your forehead «cause I can’t stop. Can’t fucking stop, it’s too much. I love you too much, I want you to feel it,» he pushes you closer to him until his chest is tight against you and his eyes still fixed into yours «cause I feel it from you. And it takes over me. You love me so good, in every possible way»

He reaches your hand and his slender fingers interlock with yours to guide your palm on his chest, just a few inches on the left from the middle. He leaves your hold just to push your palm on his skin; his heart beats under you, loud but melodious, steady and proud.

«That’s what you do to me,» he keeps his touch on your hand, fingers stroking your wrist «that’s what you’ve been doing for all these years. Not a second- there was not a second that it didn’t beat for you»

Your world spins. Even as he kisses the crown of your head sweetly and hugs you for a minute more, even when he goes back to lather the rest of you up, your hair, your word spins. You want him forever. You want him in every way, every day. You want him after a long day and on a relaxing one, on a beach somewhere lost in the world and welcoming you home, you just- can’t control it. It’s so powerful and so deep and so incredibly real and intimate that you feel grounded to earth but high flying in the sky. This is what love is. Love is Jungkook. 

He opens the jet again after lathering himself up, his hair are covered in bubbles and his cheeks full make him look like the happiest he’s ever been, eyes glittering with shining stars. He lets his hands caress you to help the water wash away the soap, lays love over every part of your body with the touch of his palm and his fingertips, kisses you when you smile and it’s too much to control himself, nuzzles his nose on you, the water spraying over your bodies and his arms caging you in. For the first time, you feel it more real, even more than before; how somewhere in a different universe you’re holding each other in the same way, older and with even more memories than what you have now. Wrinkles on his skin and hair grey but your love is still the same, still consuming and taking over the both of you. 

«Koo» you hide in his neck. 

«Love» he hums. He feels your smile on his skin.

«I want…» you curl your fingers to stroke his hips. Jungkook levels your sight with his, two of his fingers push your chin up.

«I know that we said- this isn’t heading to anything else but… I want you to make love to me» 

«Now?»

«Now,» you nod «but…»

«What?» his hand strokes your back, your cheeks flushed make him hug you tighter to show you how comfortable you can be with him. 

«Rough,» you scoff at yourself, making him giggle and raise his palm to the back of your head to stroke your nape «fuck this, I’m not good with words»

«You’re doing amazing, sweetie» he shakes his head amused «talk to me?»

You shoulders raise, chest swells as you breath in: «I want you to… the stuff you said before, do that»

Jungkook laughs at your ways, keeps your figure safe in the cage of his arms as he scrunches his nose.

«You want me to fuck you?» 

«Don’t laugh» you scold.

«I’m sorry,» he smiles «it’s just- you’re so endearing when you’re shy» 

«Koo» you whine. He kisses your neck, nods.

«You want that?» he asks, his attention totally on your face. He takes in your expression, sees universes in your eyes.

«Yes,» you pause «show me that there’s more even though I know it already» 

Clear and straight to the point. Fuck, he may explode from a second to another. 

«Rough?» he breathes. Your heart is pounding in your ears so much that the thrill makes your knees feel like jelly. 

«Rough,» you repeat «however you want it. I- want to just…» your sentence ends in silence, closing your eyes to the caresses of his fingers.

«Are you sure?» 

«I am» 

«Turn around,» he kisses your lips with tenderness but his tone is firm and your body feels so light you don’t even feel it as you do as he asks «bend down a little and put your hands against the wall»

Shit. It’s all you can think about as your chest lays on the marble. The coldness of the material makes you shiver as your hands follow, taking half a step backwards to bend for him. Jungkook stays still, totally entranced by you. Fuck, you make him crazy. Totally whipped. His head is whirling, his eyes are lost on the side view of your face and how beautiful you are with your skin glowing under the light of the bathroom, drops of water running down every inch of your body, the curve of your hips, the tenderness of your skin. God’s sake, you’re the end of him. 

«Koo» you call. He shakes his head, takes a step forward. 

«Sorry, got a little distracted» he hums against your ear, kissing your earlobe. 

«You’re so beautiful» his breath hits your neck and the air makes you shiver, he feels you moving just the slightest, your face disconnecting from the wall. 

«What are you going to do?» your tone makes him smile, curious but frail. 

His lips reach the side of your neck and they disclose a wet kiss and then another one, one more. His chest adheres to your back, the underside of his cock brushing against your asscheek makes you writhe in your spot, he’s been so hard for so long and feeling him like this makes you hold your breath, but Jungkook doesn’t lose his calm. He keeps his sight on your face, his focus on you. His arms come around you, hands cupping your stomach and fingers opening to feel your skin, they stroke and caress you just right, his touch his light but secure and it is rewarded by you squirms and shivers, he makes you want to beg for more. He travels from your navel to between your breasts, then down again. One of his hands steadies on your left hip, the digits of his other one tickle you until he stops on your mound and your breath gets cut. 

«Keep your hands on the wall» he whispers. You don’t even have time to realise what he’s saying because his fingers lower and they slide between your lips and you’re laying your head forward against the wall just at his touch. 

«I want you to let go,» he kisses your skin, licks a patch of it from just right under your head to your shoulder «and just feel good» 

His index finds your core, already wet for him. His cock twitches on you, you feel it move against your back as he gathers your wetness and moves on your clit, feather-like touch that makes you eager and yearn. 

«Can you do that for me?» he huffs. 

Your trembling breath is his answer. His finger moves on the pearl and your legs instantly squeeze around his hand at the sudden pleasure brought, his petals gifting sweet pecks on your shoulder. They make you relax your muscles and open your thighs again, his movement slow and just where you like it the most.

It lasts just for a bunch of seconds though, the air feels cold again when he parts and you close your eyes when you catch him kneeling down on the floor of the shower.

«Oh, fuck» you hiss in advance.

«You’re- I’m gonna die» your words make him laugh.

«Please don’t,» he giggles looking up at you, hands grasping the back of your thighs «just tell me if it’s too much?»

«Too much what?» 

«Anything» he kisses the lower part of your back, eyes glued to your face. His nose brushes against your skin as he lowers himself and his hands move upwards, they burn your skin even when it’s still wet, he parts your asscheeks for his sight only.

Shit, Jungkook is about to lose his mind. Too pretty. 

«Bend forwards just a little more for me?» he coos. When you do as he says, he’s able to get a better view of your pussy too and for god’s sake, he’s salivating just like she is. So wet, so freaking wet he wants to bury himself between your thighs and never face the world again. 

«Fuck, baby. Did I do that?» he hisses through his teeth, lowering his hand to part your lips better with his fingers.

«Do I make you this wet?»

«Kook…» you let out a deep breath, on the edge of your calm.

«Tell me» he moves his finger on your clit, looking back up at you. The way your mouth opens makes him move it again in the same manner, your eyebrows furrowing. 

«Tell me» he echoes. You lay your forehead against the marble.

«You do,» you whine «you make it so fucking wet, Jungkook»

«Fuck, I love when you talk to me» 

You think you’re already on the edge because fucking freaking hell, his tongue suddenly pokes your clit and your legs shake and shit- it feels incredible. He moves his head to accompany his motions, mouth open as he flicks the muscles on your clit, the perfect pressure to make you see stars. He moans against you, face buried in your pussy and his nose poking at your entrance, hands splayed on the underside of your asscheeks to help himself keeping you open for him. 

«My god- Jungkook»

«You like it?» he groans against your core, gathering your wetness on his tongue. It’s so sweet, so addicting.

«Fuck, yes» you nod.

«I love it,» he moves back on your clit, moans on it with his mouth full of your juices, too in love with your little pearl and how good it can make you feel «it’s perfect»

And he’s back at licking it again with the tip of his tongue, focused on the spot you like the most and then from time to time putting pressure with more of the muscle, setting on fire every nerve of the zone. You hold your breath, your chest is swelling in pleasure and your legs are already trembling. 

«Wanna do something» his lips brush on your pussy as he speaks, he doesn’t even dare to part from it.

«What?» you don’t know if you can take whatever it is that it’s running through his mind.

«Not yet,» he kisses your clit, making you whine for him «just relax for now»

«Shit, how am I supposed to- fucking hell, Jungkook» you moan out loud, his tongue sliding through your entrance feels so good. So wet and soft but firm, straight and pointed to push all your buttons right. 

«I love you» he can’t help himself. After all, he guesses that this is what you wanted him to do, show you how much he loves you even while he has his tongue deep inside your pussy.

«Love your pussy too, so much baby» he parts a little to take a look at the mess he’s reduced you to, dripping wet all over and glistening. A finger strokes your clit as he gets back to your hole, tongue sliding inside you so easily, he bobs his head up and down to fuck it inside you, his pace getting faster. You just keep your eyes shut, feeling the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his breath hits your skin every time he moves, the pleasure consuming. 

«Kook, I think I’m- going to cum» it’s already approaching you, it’s been since the moment his tongue poked at your clit and you don’t know how much you will be able to hold yourself back. Your body feels oversensitive, every touch and lick makes your nerves jump.

«You can,» he breathes against you, your legs tightening «wanna make you cum again afterwards» 

Fuck, it’s too much. His words are too much, so fucking hot. 

«Oh- god» you whine and Jungkook loves it. He loves it so much, he loves you so much. To have you like this makes him yearn for more and more, he wants it all. He wants you to give yourself to him and let him take care of you in the sweetest and sexiest way possible, fuck you rough and tell you how much he loves you at the same time, make love to you in every possible way. 

«You don’t know- shit, I don’t think you know the hold you have on me» he groans, speaks as he thrusts inside you, his words are muffled as the sound of your wetness takes over the bathroom. His finger works on your clit and you know that you’re too close to resist more.

«Tell me» you don’t even know what it is that makes you speak, your mouth moves on its own. Jungkook circles his tongue inside you, he curls it just a bit more and you squeeze your eyes as his moan in your pussy echoes in the bathroom. Fuck, you love it so much, so freaking much.

He slides the muscle out while sucking at the entrance of your hole, drinking your juices and growling against you in the sexiest way possible. Two of his fingers enter you, filling you up and replacing his tongue they fuck you so good that you don’t even know how to breathe anymore.

«You make me desperate,» he hisses, rubbing his digit on your clit and adding a bit more pressure «in every way possible. Want you every fucking day, every second cause I’m addicted. Sexually or not, baby»

«Koo, I…»

«I know,» he kisses your skin «cum for me»

«No- I- I love you» your voice breaks, too weary. Jungkook’s heart throbs in his chest, he wishes he could see your features now but to make you turn now would be too mischievous, so he just focuses on making you cum. His lips kiss your back, he raises himself up while he still moves inside you, leaving a path of wet kisses on every inch of skin he manages to reach.

«I love you too, angel» 

He nuzzles his nose on your back, the gesture totally far away from his next words: «Soak my fingers, wanna lick your juices»

Fuck, the room spins, you feel like levitating. Your high hits you so hard that you don’t feel your legs anymore, they tremble and you shiver and Jungkook parts his finger from your clit to wrap his arm around your front, digits digging in your flesh to keep you balanced as he still fucks into you to prolong your orgasm. He kisses your back, breathes you in, loves you more than a second ago if it’s even possible.

The feelings in your chest are long lasting, more than your climax. They fill you up even more when you come down and you notice his uneven breath against you as he holds you steady, safe from anything else that isn’t him. Jungkook kisses your skin endlessly, writes love with his lips until you’re even more drenched than you were under the jet, so much that you feel it deep inside every single bone of your body.

«Come here» he coos, looking up at you even when you still have your head against the marble. You breathe in, turn around to face him. Knees still on the floor, hair wet and lips glistening with your juices, a bit of them on his nose, eyes sweet and starry just like always. You want to laugh because how the hell are you supposed to sit on the floor of the shower when there’s him already, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to breathe and a second later you’re kneeling down and trying your best to sit, however his hand on your hips pushes you slightly to make you turn again. Jungkook opens his legs and bends them at your sides to save just a bit more space, you sit in front of him  and he guides your back on his chest. His cock pushes against your skin but the touch of his fingers on your cheek make your attention shift to his face, close and so beautiful it looks unreal. 

His lips connect with yours, soft and pillowy, and your mind fills up with a pinkish haze that seems to escape just to surround you with intimacy and coziness, his arm coming around you to feel just a bit more of your skin.

«What was it that you wanted to do?» you mumble against him, keeping your face turned to face him. Jungkook clicks his tongue, smiling with mischief.

«Later,» he pecks you again «if you want to»

«I want to,» you huff faking annoyance «I told you to fuck me but-»

«Aish, so greedy. Can’t I spoil you a little?» he shakes his head, bringing the fingers of the arm that’s wrapped around you in front of his face. They’re still wet with your juices, you expect him to lick them but what he does makes your breath stop and your pussy starts throbbing again. They stroke your lips and his eyes stay focused on his motions as he makes them glisten like a lipgloss, a cheeky smile taking over his features when he notices the way you’re looking at him.

«Wanna taste them from your lips» he murmurs. You let out a staggered breath, totally lost in him and the way he makes your mind go blank. Jungkook kisses you again, pecks your lips more than once, licks the bottom one to get every drop of your sweetness. You hate him for being like this because your pussy is soaked again and you don’t even know why the hell you find it so hot but it’s just- Jungkook. And fuck, he makes you weak. 

«I think I want to find out that thing» you breathe when he parts, his giggles resonate in the room as he cages you with his other arm too, stroking your stomach as you let your head fall on his shoulder. 

«Please?»

He taps his fingers on your navel, kissing your cheek.

«Aish, so cute,» he giggles happily «you’re exactly my type, you know that?»

«What does that even mean?» you laugh at his childish tone, shaking your head as you watch him munch on his lips.

«You have a type?»

«What? You! You’re-» he points his forefinger on your chest «you are»

«Why?» you coo teasingly, grabbing his finger in your hold and pushing his other arm down at your side. Jungkook watches you get up, turning around to look down at him. The view makes him gulp, his heart flutters at your beauty when you reach your hand out to him to make him stand. He takes it just for the sake of holding it, getting up on his own by pushing on the ball of his feet and his hand on the floor. When he towers over you his eyes are shining again and his bunny teeth on display as he beams brightly.

«Cause I love you,» he murmurs «you-» he snorts through his mouth, pushing the air out and making a nasal noise just like you would do when describing the sound of something exploding «ah, forget it»

You’re coming out of the shower, pushing the door open and he stands there totally entranced. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was probably just enjoying the view. But Jungkook is… totally lost. When you face him you know it well, that look in his eyes. 

«I want to know» you push your words, getting closer to where he stands but without going in again. 

«I don’t have a type, I guess» he scrunches his nose, it makes you want to laugh, totally meaningless «cause you’re- you are the type. Like- aish, what am I even saying?»

Your laughter fills up his ears and your arms wrap around his torso, you let your head fall on his chest. His fingers come to stroke your hair, eyes half lidded as he giggles in that sweet way that makes your stomach twist and turn.

«I’m the type» you laugh.

«Don’t make fun of me, it’s just- you know what I mean. It’s not about just one thing, it’s like- everything»

«Okay, baby,» you shake your head «now come out» 

You grab two towels each, wrapping yourself up and your hair too, Jungkook does the same with his towel but just rubs his hair with the other one. 

«Do you remember when we went to Disneyland?» he suddenly stops his motions, leaving the wet cloth on the sink as you wear your slippers. You nod at him through the reflection of the mirror, Jungkook clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

«Wanna go again»

«So suddenly?» you smile. 

He nods: «Can we go another time?»

«Next weekend?» you raise your eyebrows at him, thrilled by the thought. Jungkook’s mouth opens wide, stuck in place as he watches you point at his slippers. 

«What- next weekend?» he echoes, the shadow of a smile taking over his feature as he does as he’s told. You grab his hand and walk towards the door. 

«Hhm, we could? If you want to»

Disneyland sounds beautiful, indeed. You visited three years ago, spent three days laughing like two idiots and going on rollercoasters. You guess it couldn’t hurt at all to visit again. Jungkook feels drunk from the feeling already, having you all to himself for a weekend in a way that he never thought was possible years ago.

«Let’s go next weekend»

He stops in place, eyes wide and lips open.

«Really?»

«Why not?» you shrug.

«Are we getting the tickets now?»

«We’re really going?» he’s beaming so bright that the sun seems like a distant glow in comparison.

«Yes, we’re going. We could leave on Friday night?» you nod.

«Why- you’re sure? I was afraid to ask, I thought you’d say no» he’s totally surprised. Your hand pulls him as you start walking again towards his bedroom, Jungkook watches your eyebrows raise in question when you end your walk in front of his bed. 

«Why?» 

«I- thought you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it yet- since-»

«I told you,» you smile sweetly at him «I don’t want to restrain myself anymore. There’s no point in it, we know what we have, it’s not too soon cause I already-» you scoff, «I love you. And… I want to go» 

His expression makes your heart pound louder. Cheeks full, dark doe, big eyes glittery with thrill and love, pinkish lips open in a smile and bunny teeth showing, totally thrilled.

«Woah, this-» he bounces a little in place, totally excited «we need to get the tickets» 

«You wanna buy them now?» you giggle at his cuteness, pecking his cheek. Jungkook shakes his head, wraps his arms around you.

«Do you want to buy them now?» he gives you smooches on your forehead. You let one of your hands wrap around his neck and the other one lock around him, just under his shoulder your fingers tickle his skin as you look up at him.

«Later,» your hum has mischief in it «now I want what I asked for earlier» 

«What was it?» god, how he likes to tease you, and the way he licks his lips with a smirk that only makes you churn.

«You know what it was» you huff. Jungkook shakes his head slowly.

«Say it?» he breathes low against you.

«Wanna hear you ask for it» 

«Want you to fuck me,» you let all your inhibitions fall to the ground «rough and sweet at the same time»

«Fuck, get on the bed» his cock is already throbbing and twitching against the cloth, too hard and too weary to hold back from before and hearing your pleads just made it hungrier. 

«You make me lose it,» he watches you as you let your wet hair fall over your shoulders, the towel gets thrown on the floor and a second later you’re naked and sitting on the edge and his mind doesn’t function when you look at him like this «you want it rough? Want me to fuck you while a sweet talk you? Is that what you want?»

Shit, holy shit, yes. Totally. You can’t even answer him, too entranced by the view of him taking the fabric off and letting it fall on the ground, his eyes burning with fire and ready to devour you. 

«Lay down,» he wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping it a few times and making your pussy pulsate around nothing «slide back, get comfortable on the pillows»

You do as he says, body running only with the thrill in your veins. Your eyes lower back on his cock, red and hard, standing eager on his stomach it makes you salivate and wish to wrap your lips around it but Jungkook doesn’t have the same thought in mind. He knees on the bed, looks at your face.

«Open your legs,» he orders, tone firm «open your fucking legs» 

You don’t know if you’re ready for what’s to come. Your thighs open, feet digging into the soft mattress, his eyes ravenous. He licks his lips and strokes the head of his cock with his thumb, lets out a low groan; «That’s it»

You don’t even have time to realise what he’s doing, because a second later he’s already laying down and sucking on your clit and your eyes roll back in your head for how good it feels. The sound of him stroking his cock sends you spiralling, his soft mouth sucking and wrapping around your pearl sends every nerve on fire. 

«Fucking good pussy,» he breathes letting go of your clit, licking a strap over it «wanna make it squirt»

«Fuck, Jungkook» his words are pure sin, and your body wants it all.

«You like that? Like hearing that?» he kisses the bead so softly that you feel your breath getting stuck.

«I love her so much,» he sucks it again, hard and totally merciless «wanna make her cum so hard, baby. Want you to feel so good» his voice is muffled, he speaks when he lets go of you but doesn’t part enough for your clit not to perceive the brush of his lips as pleasure.

He lets go of his cock to push his finger inside you, filling you up and making you squirm on the bed. Jungkook clicks his tongue and kisses your clit again.

«Can she do that?» he arches his finger inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he flicks his tongue over your clit. The pace is fast, it makes your pussy throb with sensitivity and your juices drip out of your hole, his knuckles are totally wet with them. Jungkook’s cock is throbbing, twitching in desperation, precum leaking out in need.

«Can you do that for me, love?» the last word makes your insides burn, his eyes travelling to your face just in time to see your lips open in a silent moan.

«Don’t- know» you let out, fisting the sheets. Jungkook blows on your clit and he feels your walls contract around his finger, so fucking soft and tight that he wants to bury his cock inside you and never come out. 

He pushes a second finger in, fucking inside you and watching your expression totally lost as he sucks your clit again, his lips tight around it. He moans on it, watches your thighs tremble at his sides and lets go again, consuming you and your mind, taking over totally. The way he clicks the underside of his tongue on your pearl makes you moan loud and he licks all the way down from it to your core, opens his lips as much as he can to take every part of you in his mouth, his teeth lightly brush against you and your hips raise involuntarily on the bed, pushing against his face. He moans on you, balls hard and cock oversensitive even with the smallest change of air, slurps at your juices as he sucks them through your entrance and lingers in the sweetness of them, so fucking saccharine and creamy. He wants you to explode, let go. 

«Never enough,» he licks back up from your pussy to your clit, flicking his tongue on the spot that makes you lose your mind, fingers pushing buttons inside of you that make your vision blurry «love you so much baby, push your pussy on my face» 

«Koo, I…»

«Push it all over me,» he growls on your clit, curls his fingers inside you «want your juices all over me, I love them so much»

You don’t hold yourself back anymore, do as he says. Your hips push up again, your hand goes to his hair and Jungkook sucks your clit again and again and again and you think you’re about to break cause it’s too fucking much. 

«Wanna make you cum» he moans as he dives as deep as he can into you, both with his fingers and with his tongue on your clit. The pressure added makes your head dig in the pillow, a breathy moan escaping your lips.

«Again and again, and again. Until you can’t take anymore cause it’s too much. Wanna fuck you and tell you how fucking much I love you and see you cum all over my fucking cock. Shit, you make me desperate»   

It’s sudden and it tears you apart and it stings a little but feels so fucking good that your body shakes and you don’t breathe anymore, because he bites your clit just enough and you can’t help it. You tremble and shiver, eyes shut and lips wide open, your hair wetting the pillow and your mind blank as the pleasure becomes too much and you let go. Jungkook licks your juices, slurps on them, dries your pussy of every drop, gulps them down as if it was the sweetest syrup in the world, his eyes on your face admiring how fucking beautiful you are when you cum, all for him and him only. His tongue on you feels so soft, his lips kiss and brush against every inch of your center and Jungkook can’t help but push the tip of his wet muscle inside you, making you shiver.

«Koo» you whine. He smiles against you, pushing it deeper and you writhe on the bed, too sensitive and overwhelmed. His fingers push on your hips, keeping you in place and against his lips.

«Is she sensitive?» he pecks your inner thigh, looking up at you. You nod out of breath, eyes locking with his.

«Wanna make you cum again,» he huffs «can she take it for me?»

«Jungkook, I- sensitive» you whine as he pecks your mound, lowering on your clit with a lick of his tongue on your skin. He blows on it, watching you squirm once more and whine.

«Poor baby» he kisses the pearl decadently.

«Oh, fuck» your hand fists his hair, tugging at the roots, Jungkook kisses it again, he opens his mouth slightly and lets the inner wet part of his lower lip add pressure as he slowly moves up to slide his lips on you. 

«You like it when I kiss your clit?» his hand travels up to your abdomen, it passes your hips and your tummy, fingers sprayed as he grasps your left breast and squeezes it slightly.

You nod at him, your pussy is pulsating and it’s so wet and sensitive that you can’t speak properly. He kisses it again, loud and sultry, again and again and again until you lose count and your walls are crumping up again, the pleasure too much to handle. 

«Look at me,» he coos tenderly «let me see your pretty face»

You open your eyes, look down at him from the pillow that it’s soaked with the water in your hair. Jungkook’s thumb strokes your nipple, slow and gentle it makes your leg open for him even more and he has to hold back from reaching down to stroke his cock again. 

«Can you cum again for me, baby? Wanna give you so much more,» he flicks his tongue over your clit, making you hiss «wanna fuck you so good, want you to feel me for the whole day tomorrow»

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and all you can do is let go and feel the pleasure build up, picturing his cock inside you and thrilled to have him fuck you in the same way he’s been doing with his lips. The thought is too alluring and when he kisses your clit again your mind goes blank and all you can feel it’s your pearl pulsating desperate and his slurpy kisses sending you in a haze. They’re endless, Jungkook kisses your pussy and your legs are trembling again, weary and too sensitive to last any longer. You moan silently, dig your head in the pillows, feel his lips all over you even as you cum again. His hand caresses your tummy, providing comfort as your body goes limp on the bed, lips pecking your inner thighs and your mound, your knees, your tummy, his hand locking around yours. The way you look, shit, it’s ethereal. He doesn’t think he ever witnessed such a beautiful masterpiece, you should be worshipped and represented in every frame, hung in museums, have buildings built with your name. There has to be somewhere, a distant, alternative universe maybe, where you’re a princess of a flourishing land or the goddess of the universe, there has to be. 

«I love you so much,» he’s helpless, eyes fixated on you «I wanna keep you in my pocket and cuddle you every night. Wanna shelter you from the world»

«Come here, please» you squeeze his hand,  Jungkook lays down on you without having you to ask twice. His cock is rock hard, poking at your tummy and leaking precum from the tip but he’s so fucking in love with you that all he can do is snuggle his face in the crook of your neck and wrap one of his arms around you, the other helping him up not to weight down on you.

«I think you broke me» you groan tired, eyes shut as you feel him giggle and hide more into you.

«You asked for it» he mumbles.

«I didn’t ask for three orgasms» you scoff at him, arms wrapping around him. His chest is firm against you, his back broad and your fingers can’t help but wander and caress it up and down, he shivers on top of you.

«You- you’re so annoying» he groans.

«Aish, here we go again,» you laugh at him, stroking his wet hair with your other hand

«thank you for making me cum three times» you kiss his neck. Jungkook smiles against you, he closes his eyes and takes in your sweet scent.

«That’s better,» he kisses your skin «was it too much? Maybe I shouldn’t ha-»

«I loved it,» you shake your head eagerly, slightly tugging at the strands to make him look at you «every single one of it»

He scrunches his nose, a bright beam taking over his face.

«I’m just teasing you,» you stroke his back «I love when you make me cum with your lips» it comes out low and almost like a whisper and he can see your cheeks reddening, but his heart flutters and all he wants to do is kiss you until the world explodes.

«Yeah?» he coos sweetly, hushed and airy. You nod, eyes lowering on his lips.

«Yes,» you smile «that thing you did- when you bit me…»

He licks his lips and boops his nose to yours. 

«Did it feel good?» he asks under his breath. The way he checks in with you every time makes you feel so cherished and it’s like he’s embracing you in a tight warm blanket, totally safe and cared for.

«A lot,» you nod «felt so good, love»

«I wanted to try that» his lips brush against yours when he speaks. You smile at him, pushing your face up just enough to make your lips lock together, his moan is sweet as your tongue enters his mouth. His fingers caress your hip, your shoulder, his hand cups your head as you lay back down and he lowers himself to keep contact, your soft petals and the way you give yourself to him makes his chest swell with happiness and vulnerability every time, how you smile against him, kiss him some more. His cock twitches and you giggle under his lips, Jungkook pecking your lower one with all the love he has inside him.

«Wanna make you cum» you whisper when he parts a little, lashes fluttering at the sound of your voice.

«Wanna cum inside you,» he lets out, hand cupping your cheek «but I can just-»

«I want you inside me,» you cut him off, already knowing where his brain is taking him «don’t care if I’m sensitive. Wanna feel you»

He munches on his lips, cheeks a little swollen as he mulls it over: «Are you sure?»

«I’m sure, Koo. Please, fuck me?» you huff looking up at him, his eyebrows raise at your unceremonious words. You peck his lips and lift your hips up knowing well that he’s still not sure about it. His cock jerks and Jungkook lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes shut. 

«Fuck, can’t say no when you tease me like this» he breathes through his mouth. You grin, his eyes open to look straight down at you.

«Good, cause I’ve waited quite a while» you tease. He scoffs on your face, his hand moves away from your skin just so he can slap your thigh but it only makes you grin more.

«Open your legs» he smiles at your attitude, shaking his head slightly in disdain but his pupils are sparkling and he’s so cute right now that you want to kiss him dumb. However, you do as he says, your movements are quick and your pussy is still throbbing from your last orgasm. 

Jungkook parts just a little, he grabs the length of his cock and strokes it once or twice, it cuts your breath off just to look down at his motions; his big and slender hand, beautiful fingers, the girth of his cock and the precum leaking from its head, red and needy.

«I wanna try something sometime» you let out totally entranced, he guides his cock to your pussy, sliding it into your folds. The sensation makes him bite on his lips with his eyes squeezed shut, a needy whine escaping his lips. 

«Ngh- what?» he looks down at you.

«Gonna tell you when you’re inside me» you tease him, making him scoff. He lifts his hips slightly, takes his cock away from your lips. 

«You’re such a brat» his hand lays on you clit, slapping it just enough to make you moan out loud. Your eyes widen in shock, he grins and kisses your cheek and you don’t know if you should be dripping with arousal or dig a hole into the ground and giggle for his cuteness and the way he makes you heart flutter with just a loving peck. 

Jungkook lowers himself back again, he wraps his hand around his shaft to guide it back to where it was and slides it between your folds, it’s so wet that the underside of his cock is soaked with your juices and all he wants to do is feel them on his tongue again. Your clit is oversensitive and the weight of his cock on you only makes it worse, your hand is already gripping the sheets.

He slides his length up and down as he admires the way your eyelashes flutter and the red shade of your lips, your pretty nose, the shape of your eyes. He loves you so much, so freaking much it’s hard to handle it, it’s thought to even just breathe through it. 

«Love, look at me?» he coos. Just a word and you’re melting in a puddle, breath staggered. He’s so beautiful, so ethereal. He slides his cock down to your entrance, pokes at it with the head. 

«I love you» you whisper. Jungkook smiles, his cock pushes inside you and even though he halts his hips to get you used to the feeling your hands come down on his ass and you push him deeper, making him groan under his breath and close his eyes at the feeling. Tight, close, so fucking wet that his cock is already soaked, so soft. His lips are open, eyebrows furrowed and you don’t know if you want him to go rough on you anymore cause your arms are dying to feel him close and your heart is pounding and throbbing for his love and his affection. He’s so beautiful, so beautiful it tears you apart in the most saccharine way, you love him so much. 

«Say it back, please» you breathe. 

Jungkook lays his head on your chest, the movement is slow and his breath is staggered, he looks up at you. Some strands of his hair come in the way of his eyes, a drop of water dripping down from one of them and caressing his cheekbone as it travels down. Your eyes are sparkling, lost in a haze, lips open just slightly.

«I love you,» he kisses your clavicle «I’m- don’t even know if that’s enough cause- it doesn’t hold half of the meaning of what I feel for you» his nose brushes against your neck as he hovers over you.

«But I love you, so much. So freaking much, baby»

«Please, move» you breath low.

«Wanna feel you» 

«Like this?» he brings his hips back, his cock slides against your walls perfectly, it rubs over every nerve, and then he pushes back in, slow and maddening he stretches you out in the best way possible as your legs move around his hips to cage him into you, his low moan resonating in your ear. 

«Shit, yes» you nod. Jungkook kisses your neck, his hand reaches yours and locks around it, thumb caressing the back as he pulls back out just to hit your spot again. 

«You’re perfect,» he licks his lips looking down at you «so perfect. Tell me you’re mine»

«I’m yours,» the way he groans at your words makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head down on your chest at the sensation «only yours, all yours»

«Fuck, say it again» he rests there with his hand pushing yours down on the bed as he moves inside you, his pace fastening.

«Yours, Jungkook. All- every part of me» you moan. He feels so good, so perfect. His cock makes you helpless, he makes you helpless. Just a look, a blink of his eyes and you would do the worst, the absolute worst for him even though you know that he would never ask. You can’t help it, you’re so fucking in love with him that you can’t see straight and the world finally makes sense cause he’s in it and all over you. 

«Fuck, yes,» he kisses your chest, hovers over your face again «want a whole life with you»

God, your heart is bursting. He makes you want to stay all day in his arms and only live by his warmth, look at the stars in the sky just to compare them to the ones sparkling in his dark eyes. 

«Please, yes» you whine as he hits your g-spot, eyes deep in his «want you every day, Kook. Wanna wake up to your face every fucking day»

«Yeah?» he’s losing his mind, and you can see it clearly. Trying to hold himself back, licking his lips as he stares down at yours and your eyes, fucking himself so deep into you that it’s driving him insane. The sounds that come from your wetness make your cheeks red, all the orgasms you had before and still you’re still hungry for more, for him.

«Yes» you nod eager. He moans out loud, you feel his cock throb inside you and leak precum that mixes with your juices. It’s absolute filth but it feels so intimate that it makes your head spin and your heart clench. 

«Can do that,» he kisses your lips «I absolutely can do that. Please don’t change your mind» he sounds like begging and you can’t help but wrap tighter around him.

«Not gonna» you huff. The moment he smiles at you, shit you know you can’t go back anymore. It feels so good, so sweet but so consuming and he’s yours, his smile is. The way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you, the sound of his breath too overwhelmed by you, his hand  squeezing yours, all yours. 

Jungkook can’t get used to this, he doesn’t think he ever could. Every time he makes love to you, every time you give yourself to him his body lights up, his soul grows a size more just to get as much of you as it can. Seeing you under him in his bed, with your hair wetting the sheets, your body naked for him, your vulnerability in his hands that promise to worship every inch of it and comfort it with everything he can, your cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes starry and almost shut for the pleasure he’s making you feel… he knows he will never get used to this. Not even in another life, at the last one of them all.

«Wish I could take a picture of you right now,» he fans over your lips «so pretty. So beautiful, I love it. Love you, love your pussy, love how you give yourself to me»

«Shit, feels so good» your hands cups his head, bringing him for a sloppy kiss, passionate and lost as his hips keep meeting yours. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he will be able to hold himself back, cause his cock is twitching and his balls are already tight. He was having a hard time even when he was making you cum, every time felt like a torture to his throbbing and heavy dick on his stomach.

«Shit, baby I’m sorry- I don’t know if I can give you what you want- nngh, it feels too good to have you like this» he whines in your ear, kisses your neck endlessly. His hand leaves yours to cup your breast, fingers sprayed and digging into your skin, your pussy clenching. The thought seems far away now, you can’t let go of having him like this, ruining you slowly.

«It’s okay, like this is perfect» you puff out a breath, Jungkook pushes a little harder inside you and suddenly your body is on the edge, eyes squeezed shut. 

«You’re going to cum?» he hides himself deeper into you, keeps hitting your spot faster but doesn’t dare to pull out cause seeing you like this sends his mind in a haze. For god’s sake, he’d spend all night long like this. Making you cum undone, over and over again until you soak his sheets with your juices and your lips are so swollen that they hurt. His cock rubs against you perfectly, hips moving faster and faster as his groans fill the room, he just pulls himself back enough to meet your spot again without losing it, giving your sensitive pussy what she’s been begging for by engulfing his length so deliciously.

«Gonna cum» you nod. Jungkook bites his lips, teeth digging into the red flash, pupils fixated on your face as you let out a moan.

«Love watching you cum,» his hand strokes your cheek «let go, love. Do it for me, baby»

Your mind goes blank once more, your lungs are on fire as you try to breathe properly but can’t, pussy pulsating desperately and extremely sensitive. He pecks your lips and shit, the gesture has your heart clenching and it makes you cry out loud because it’s too much freaking pleasure and sweetness and you just- it overwhelms you. Totally and wholly, your legs shake in spasms, you hear Jungkook swear and moan but it’s too far away and your ears are not working well, you can’t feel your body anymore, it’s like you don’t have control over it. Jungkook watches you entranced, he digs his head in the crook of your neck and stops his motions even though he was about to cum just to hold your shaking body and provide comfort with his hold, kisses every inch of skin he finds. Your breath in his ear is heavy, your eyes closed and lips apart, and he feels himself growing desperate, not to cum but to reassure you in the gentlest way possible and provide comfort to every part of you. He kisses your cheek more than a few times  loudly and silently, lays his forehead against yours and pecks the tip on your nose, snuggles against it with his, he keeps his arms wrapped around you and his cock still buried in your pulsating core.

«Fuck- Jungkook» you let out a low whine with your eyes closed. Jungkook giggles and lays a smooch on your cheek again.

«You- you don’t know how fucking sexy that was» you open your eyes, your vision is a little blurry.

«I- you made me cum so hard» you hug him back but feel him still rock hard inside you and filling you up totally.

«You… why did you stop? You didn’t cum»

He raises his eyebrows and pecks your temple. His thumb strokes your cheek: «Didn’t wanna overstimulate you more,» he squeezes you tighter «you squirted all over me»

«I- what?» your eyes widen as your lips hang down. Jungkook smiles and nods looking down at you.

«Did you ever do that?» he coos gentle, voice low almost like a whisper. 

You shake your head: «Never, are you sure I- really?»

He giggles at your tone, parts by pushing on his arms with his length still inside you. The whole expanse of his abdomen gets shown, muscles rippling and his brownish nipples standing, the v line that guide to his cock… wet.

«Oh, fuck,» you pull him down by pushing him from behind his back «I didn’t think I could do that. Shit, it’s so embarrassing but-»

«It was sexy as hell, baby,» he shakes his head to make your brain stop overthinking it «just to think about it makes- thinking that you felt so good that you couldn’t hold it back- ngh, makes me wanna make you do it again» 

«Don’t get used to it,» you huff on his lips, shaking your head but smiling shyly «it never happened» 

He pecks your lips.

«I promise I won’t,» he beams «how do you feel?»

The smile that takes over your features makes his heart throb. You couldn’t wrap your head around it if you knew how much he loves you. Asking you how you’re feeling after making you cum so hard when he’s still rock hard and needy inside you, just this makes your chest hurt.

«Good, baby. I feel good,» you bring your hand on his face to caress his cheek and travel your finger on his temple, they push a strand of hair away from his sight «wanna make you cum» you squeeze your walls around him even though you’re still pulsating and too sensitive. Jungkook whines at your ways, let’s his head fall into your neck again.

«Baby- don’t. Shit- feels so good. Don’t wanna- hurt you» he whimpers when you do it again, his eyes are shut and his cock is twitching but it’s caged in your tight hold and it makes him crazy.

«Please, wanna feel you cum,» you kiss the soft skin of his neck, warm and fair, leave your lips on it as you speak «please, love»

«Baby, for real I-» his voice trembles as he tries to restrain himself.

«Please,» you pout even though he can’t see you, you move your hand slowly down his back until you find his asscheek «cum for me? Want you to paint my pussy with your cum» 

God, he can’t think straight when you whisper filth like this in his ear and make it sound like the sweet prayer of an angel, honey coated.

You squeeze his asscheek slightly, push your hand down on his flash to make him sink deeper into you, your juices wet and soaking his balls. 

«Fuck, tell me if it hurts» he whines knowing well that you won’t give up. His arm pulls you to him more until your hard nipples are tight against his chest and his cock throbbing inside you. He pulls out slowly, driving himself crazy with the sounds of your pussy and how good you engulf him, dives deep inside you at the same pace. His cockhead is oversensitive, when it touches your walls it leaks so much precum that you bite your lips and Jungkook moans loud and breathy, tight to you. He open his lips on your skin, breathes in your sweet scent and kisses your flash endlessly as he pulls back his hips again just to push back inside slowly. 

«So wet,» he whimpers «so freaking wet, baby. Drives me insane» 

«Wanna see your face when you cum,» you tug at the roots of his hair a bit and Jungkook’s hand reaches yours as he raises his head to look at you, bringing it on the bed and interlocking his fingers «love when you cum for me»

He’s desperate, out of breath, whiny, high pitched as he fucks himself slowly into your heaven, so freaking juicy and wet that he’s afraid he’d slip out if his strokes were any longer or faster. The thought pushes him closer, having your pussy so wet for him and your arms all around him, your face looking at him as he hovers over you, features ethereal and full of love and admiration for his pleasure, whispers in his ear.

«Love you,» when you peck his nose he whines even more «love you so much. Can’t get enough of you»

«My- baby,» his breath is staggered «you’re- my baby»

Your hands make him crazy, they brush against his back and help him fuck himself into you by pushing on his ass, caress his hair, dig into the muscles of his shoulders, write stories on his skin that you didn’t live together yet. Jungkook feels overwhelmed, totally defeated. You bring him close to you, kiss him sloppy and dumb and make him the happiest man alive and suddenly, he’s whimpering and moaning and his movements come to an halt. 

«Fucking- fuck, shit» he cries into your mouth with his eyes closed and squeezed, eyebrows furrowed, voice not even able to speak properly. His cum bursts inside you, it paints your walls and fills you up totally, hot and wet it mixes with your juices and your pussy clenches around him at the feeling, a breathy whimper coming out of his lips. 

«Can’t- can’t take so much love» he crashes in the space between your head and your shoulder. His body is trembling and his cock throbs inside you. Your breath gets cut as you wrap him up in the best way that you can. You stroke his hair with your fingers, your legs cage him into you again, one of your arms keeps his chest close to yours, so tight that you feel his heart pound and your lips kiss every inch of skin that you manage to reach. 

Jungkook lays there with his mind blank and his heart bursting, hiding himself in his safe place in your neck and trying to steady his breath. 

«Did- did it hurt?» he gulps as he speaks, voice weary and frail. You kiss his earlobe, play with the strands of his hair.

«It didn’t,» you hum «don’t worry about it»

«I’m sorry baby, I- it was too much, couldn’t do what you wanted»

«Changed my mind when we started,» you chuckle as he turns his head, your side profile makes him want to caress your nose with his finger «we can do that another time»

He hums a little, a sweet kiss on your neck.

«I promise it’s gonna be good,» he nods «you make love to me so sweet. Tears me apart» his voice is a bit high pitched, but it comes out as a whisper, so vulnerable. 

You flash a smile, moving slightly under him. Jungkook takes a deep breath and pushes on his arms to kiss your lips and then look down between you. His cock is still inside you and he snuggles himself into your skin as he grabs the base of it, the sensitivity of his length makes him moan as he slides it out of you, drenched in both of your cum and his and still half hard. You pat the bed beside you, turn on your side as he lays down. 

«Closer,» you pout «closer baby»

He fights with the sheets making you giggle as he gets closer, until he lays his head down on the pillow just an inch away from you, body so close you feel the heat radiating from his skin as his arm comes around you and pushes you to him, chest tight. He brushes your back with his fingertips and you shiver when they stroke up your spine, slow and ticklish until they reach the back of your neck and he cups your cheek. 

«Do you want to go for real?» he asks low. You nod your head, a little smile on your lips.

«Wanna go,» you push a strand of humid hair out of his face «for real»

His smile makes your heart clench, that little nose scrunch that you love so much and his cheeks full, eyes full of stars.

«Aish, I’m so happy,» he stretches his leg over yours «we should get the tickets after we shower»

«Let’s do that,» you squeeze his cheek «let’s go shower?»

«Just a little,» he whines and pushes himself tighter against your body «let’s wait a little? Love cuddling after we make love» 

Shit, you can’t help it. You love him so much, he squeezes your heart in his hand every time he looks at you, when he talks with his tone sugar coated, frail and totally helpless and shows himself begging for your love with his eyes, so vulnerable that you just fill full. You want to make him happy. Want to see him smile, giggle and titter, laugh out loud until he has tears in his eyes, colour his world of the same pink shade he paints yours in. You want to make him breathe and feel the same feeling you have in your chest, cause it’s too much to bare on your own and it makes you lose your mind to see him drunk in it. You want to have in wholly, every day and fill your time with memories and experiences, learn as much as you can, the little secrets that he told you and the ones you don’t know yet, find out about his pet peeves when he’ll be older and have arguments just to make up and hug each other so tight that something inside you either breaks and he’ll have to kiss its wound or fixes. Hold him so tight that he can’t breathe, shower him with love and hug him tight when you both cry cause you love each other too much, kiss his insecurities away and give him a shielded place to hide himself in and to heal, cause you will always have your arms empty for him, whenever he needs a safe space you will be here, as you’ve always done with each other. You want him to remember this, and to sleep well, cause you will be here taking care of him just the same as he does with you.

«Love» he coos. You hum in question, a big beam on your face.

«You didn’t tell me»

«What?»

«What you wanted to try» he whispers, eyes big and full of curiosity. You scoff at him and shake your head.

«Next time, I’ll tell you» 

«I want to know,» he pouts «please, tell me?»

You sigh: «you’re still half hard, Koo»

«Don’t care, not in the mood for something freaky now, anyway» he mulls. You roll your eyes at him.

«Who told you it’s something freaky?» you slap his shoulder and Jungkook giggles.

«Then tell me,» he brushes his lips against yours «what is it?»

You cheeks colour of a red shade, his eyes look at them as he munches on his lips, his thumb caresses your cheek.

«Wanna watch while you touch yourself,» you whisper shyly «you don’t have to if-»

«Oh, shit-» he gulps down on his spit «could you do the same while I do that?»

Your eyes widen, you want to laugh for whatever is going on because you came four times and somehow your pussy is getting wet again, it’s ridiculous.

«I- if you want me to» you smile. Jungkook nods and nuzzles his face to you.

«Hell yes if I want that» he chirps. You chuckle at his excitement, hide your face into the pillow. His lips are so stretched that his cheeks hurt.

«Just, let’s take one step at a time,» he strokes your back «I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I want to do things right, in the right way for you» he goes to stroke your hair and you raise your face from the pillow.

«I don’t, I told you»

«I know,» he nods and kisses your lips softly, feather like «whenever you want to do anything, when it’s the right time for you, you know I’m always here» 

«I know,» your heart clenches «I love you»

He pushes his face closer to yours until he’s breathing over your lips and his brush on you as he speaks: «I love you too,» he smiles «loved you for so much, will love you always»

You you can read the first part here: Closer: Too Close

Read more about Closer here: Closer

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @mianyas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @jungkookieeee97, @eysloveskoosomuch, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @spookybirstarfish, @vvicadiction, @kimchijeonjk, @suciedad-divina, @katarinamae

[hanibalistic]

CELESTIAL STRINGS | HAN JISUNG.

genre | fluff, angst, romance, friendship / soulmate au, magic au 

synopsis | having been alone most of your life, the last thing you thought would gain you a few friends and a home was helping a random boy get past the school gate after he was late.

word count | 26.8k+

warning | violence, mentions of blood and injuries / mentions of death and killing ​

note | limiting 1000 blocks per post is the single stupidest thing tumblr pt.3 / bye bye baby.

parts | one, two, three

Seungmin could feel your presence around the school again. He wondered why you hid.

Turning over to look at his friends, his expression remained neutral and unbothered as he watched Jisung point at something on his phone and make Felix laugh. He breathed a mildly annoyed sigh, unable to verbalize the fault he had placed on Jisung since the moment it was revealed what had happened between you both after everyone split up to find the cat café.

It was because Seungmin knew it was not entirely Jisung’s fault that nobody had heard from you for weeks. Both of you have made grave mistakes in the recent fight, which was much more severe than anything any of you have ever picked with each other. Both of you have said things you shouldn’t have, using the vulnerable knowledge of each other as something as abysmal as snowballs on a fun winter day.

But he has not heard from you for weeks. Nobody has heard from you for weeks. Jisung had frantically reached out to you the night of the fight when he realized there wouldn’t be a time when you could finally come home. He could wait until the sun rose, and there would be no traces of you, so he texted and called you countless times. 

Jisung had assumed the worst when he decided to call Seungmin. You were not the type to ignore his calls and messages; even though the tension might still be up, Jisung thought he would have some of your grace, in which you would at least tell him you were safe. But there was only radio silence, and he assumed the worst: you had been taken by the man he saw that day. 

Except you were the type to ignore his calls and messages because you were the type to distance yourself as soon as complications arose. Seungmin hated thinking about it this way, but your record tracks: you ran away from your city, you ran away during the car crash, and you had run away this time after experiencing Jisung’s temporary hatred toward you. 

Seungmin only tried to text you a few times. He assumed you would not pick up his calls if you didn’t reply to his messages. The results were the same: complete and utter silence. 

Yet, lo and behold, you were here with them. Hidden behind walls, or among trees, or cloaked with invisibility. Seungmin wondered if Jisung noticed, but it didn’t seem like anyone but he did. 

“I think you guys should go ahead first. I forgot something in my locker,” Seungmin said once he looked away from the other end of the street where you usually came from.

“Huh? Why? We can wait here for you. It won’t take you that long,” Hyunjin said, raising a brow at him.

Seungmin shrugged. “I figured I could find my homeroom teacher on the way to discuss my grade.”

Jisung put his phone down at the peculiar explanation. It may be within his character to forget a homework assignment in his locker, but Seungmin wasn't someone who lacked time management. If he needed to find a teacher to talk to, he would have done it during school hours instead of waiting until the last minute.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Jisung asked, his connotation failing to be discreet. 

Hyunjin and Felix turned to Seungmin then, looking more surprised than suspicious. They have each reached out to you individually despite knowing the very little chance of getting a response, which they have yet to get. But regarding your whereabouts, those two also have their fair share of concerns.

Felix did not fault anyone for what happened. If anything, he didn’t think he should have a say since he was neither closely related to you and Jisung’s relationship nor well-versed in what happened to you in the past. Maybe Jisung had the right to be upset about not being able to help you with something with unpredictable danger. Perhaps you were also right in taking the extra step to protect his defenseless self. 

One thing that was definitely right, though, which he and Hyunjin both agreed on when chatting during an after-school walk, was that better communication should have happened. Regardless of the agitated emotions and who was right and wrong, Jisung should have clarified for the pessimistic you, and you should not have assumed the worst knowing Jisung’s loving nature. 

And you had been gone for weeks. Felix has been without a reliable friend, and Hyunjin has been without a pseudo-sibling. Seungmin has been without his best friend, and Jisung without his soulmate. 

Everyone would want to know if you were here, as Jisung assumed. 

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” Seungmin said. “I really just need to talk about my grade.” 

“Seungmin, your grades are fine,” Jisung huffed in faint annoyance.

Jisung hadn’t been able to study well, nor had he been able to study at all. His bedroom had long lost its comfort. It was just a cell of memories with you, trapping him in and torturing him every single night. He still hasn’t rolled up the mattress on the floor and refused to wash the shirts you’ve worn before.

Hurting you was so easy for him that day. He just had to speak and walk away. He should have turned around. He should have emphasized that he still loved you and was only angry for now. He was negligent of your habits with human complications and made a mistake that cost him every ounce of peace.

“Okay,” Seungmin replied. “I still have to head back to get my stuff from the locker.”

“Then go,” Jisung said. “We’ll wait for you here.”

Jisung’s irritability has been putting a strain on everyone’s mood, and there is only so much one can handle before the awful truth comes out and kills everyone. But Seungmin has someone else he has to worry about; he looked to the side slightly as if to give you a signal to follow him if you were even here in the first place, and then he exhaled in annoyance. 

“Fine,” Seungmin muttered. “I won’t be long.” 

He went through the school building and headed to the backyard, where they usually had lunch. Standing by the familiar spot, his eyes squinted in concentration. He couldn’t even be sure if you were at the front gate or if you followed him to the back, but he felt obligated to try it. As your best friend, he had to see if you would receive his support.

Besides, he hated the idea of leaving that petty map argument unresolved. He hasn’t apologized to you yet, nor have you to him. 

“[Name]?” he called softly, standing on his spot and looking around, feeling like an absolute idiot. “You can come out if you’re here. It’s just me.”

A ghostly breeze brushed past his face, blowing at his bangs to caress his eyes. Seungmin closed his eyes at the wind. His lips pursed into a gentle frown. Footsteps slowed down before him as his temporary blindness faded, and he found himself looking at you with your hands clasped before your chest. You smiled faintly at him, eyes filled with recognition of your friend’s face. 

Seungmin softened, as did you. You looked the same, understandably. It has only been a couple of weeks since he last saw you, but you appeared exhausted. And you found him stoic and angry, which he usually was if he made no attempt to put expressions on his face. But as he looked at you now, he was a gentle boy. 

His hand paused mid-air when he was about to brush at a piece of your hair away from your face, his movement stuttering before he clenched his fist and let it drop back to his side. You looked down at his hand and back up at his face, your eyes widening slightly at the unusual gesture. 

Seungmin opened his mouth, wanting to speak but unable to because his mind was blanking out. Eventually, he found it in himself to speak. “I’m sorry about what I said that day. About your magic being unconventional.”

You shook out a breath, finding the willpower in yourself to breathe normally after so long. Every day felt like a knot in your chest, sucking in your oxygen and craving for your impending end. You missed the daily life you used to have, having a place to go home to, your friends, and being with Jisung.

The first thing you gave him was a huff of amusement. Then you jumped in your steps, moving forward and engulfing him in a surprising hug. Seungmin grew into a smile of his own, accepting the hug graciously, knowing how hard it was to overcome the distaste for human touch. He was the same way with people, but since he had not seen you in a while, he supposed he could make an exception. 

“How have you been, Seungmin?” you asked, the evidence of joy clear in your straining voice.

“Annoyed that you ghosted all of us,” he replied jokingly. “If you want to ghost Jisung, fine. But I am not part of the argument you guys had. I do not deserve to be ignored. Neither do Hyunjin and Felix.”

You pulled a remorseful face as you pulled away from the short embrace. You did feel bad about disregarding all of their questions and constant check-ups. You went as far as not to tap into the notifications so they do not know whether you even read their messages; you did it once on purpose for Felix, and you figured he might have thought it a technical mistake, so he never told anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I needed some time alone.” 

You had engulfed yourself with a simple furrow of your brows. Throwing guilt at you was the last thing Seungmin wanted to do, but he figured it wasn’t his choice whether you would shoulder everything by yourself or not. You were doing it in front of him, your thought process adding tons of stress atop what you were already experiencing when he accused you of leaving no traces behind.

His heart ached to see you like this. The witty and independent friend he adored back then was swapped with someone needing comfort and understanding. That friend was tired of causing roadblocks to people's smooth sailing lives. 

“Yeah,” Seungmin nodded, “did you have enough of it? I hate to say this, but we’re all tired of Jisung throwing temper tantrums because you’re not with him.”

Your lips arched downward into a nostalgic smile. “How is he doing?” 

“Very bold of you to ask, actually!” Seungmin replied with a rare exclamation. 

It took you one look to know that he was being sarcastic. You groaned at the knowing expression on his face that seemed to be putting you at fault for every terrible attitude Jisung had given him the past weeks because you wanted to play as a missing person. The worst was that he had the right to blame you for his share of the consequences that had nothing to do with him. You have exaggerated the problem a bit. 

“Seungmin,” you muttered with a downward arch of your lips, urging him to tell you the truth.

“He’s sorry and wants you to come home,” he replied.

You sighed deeply and squeezed your eyes shut as if Jisung’s yearning for you caused complications to your returned daily routine. Your back arched and bent like an exhausted mother would, and then you pursed your lips to clear the drying tongue in your mouth that had something to say. 

“He is right, you know?” you said. “I just do whatever I want.”

Seungmin grimaced. “We don’t have free will.”

“Oh, wow. I almost forgot how much I hated talking to you.” You widened your eyes in pretend shock. “What nihilistic bible did you get that from?

“I’m saying there is a reason for everything you do, and the reason doesn’t have to be your fault,” Seungmin clarified assertively. He wanted to make sure you understand your actions were not (entirely) a reflection of your morals despite their consequences.

Then he cleared his throat and grimaced. “And, uh, it’s actually just behavioral psychology. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

You stared at him in silence. Seungmin responded by being your mirror image because he wasn’t sure what you were thinking. You were not thinking of much aside from the want to be playful with a friend, which you have not done in a while. Therefore, still maintaining the silence and the same deadpan gaze, you reached behind your bag and unzipped the front pocket. 

Seungmin realized you were taking your magic strings out. He debated making a distasteful joke about you using magic on regular people. He did not make the joke. 

“Come here,” you said with a funny beckon of your head. Your hands were busy wrapping red strings around your fingers. “I just wanna talk, Seungmin.”

He began to take stuttering steps back while you advanced toward him. He held his hands in mock surrender, and airy chuckles parted between words. “It’s cool. We can talk from a distance. What did I even say? What did I even say–hey! Don’t chant anything! Stop it!”

You widened your eyes with a grin when Seungmin suddenly dove toward you, hoping to snatch the red strings from your hands. You swiftly hopped away from him, making him jolt forward when you were nowhere to be grasped as he had expected.

Seungmin grunted slightly as he pulled himself together, only to immediately dash from his standing spot when he realized there was ample time for you to begin chasing him in circles again. 

Your missed laughter rang in his ears, making him lose track of time. He missed his best friend dearly. 

Before he knew it, he had run himself out of the allotted duration reasonable for retrieving something from his locker. He snapped out of it once he remembered his friends were still waiting for him outside the school gate, and he waved at you to pause the friendly chase. He panted once you stopped with a tilt of your head and waved his hand again in dismissal. 

“I have to go back,” Seungmin said. “They’re waiting for me outside, which you already know.”

Your heart dropped, but acceptance was quick to catch it. Fiddling with your fingers, you did not bother to unwrap the red strings around your fingers as you watched Seungmin gather himself and stand up straight.

You flashed him a brief smile that conveyed a sorrowful farewell he wished he could change. He was going to talk you into coming back, into meeting everyone outside the school gate, but the reassurance you needed could not come from him.

It can only come from the person you were avoiding, which was the tricky part because you refused to meet Jisung and wouldn’t believe his reassurance. 

Supposed he would just have to wait. 

“Text me anyway,” Seungmin requested softly. “And maybe Hyunjin and Felix, too.”

You sighed. There was no harm in that. “Okay.” 

He went in for a hug this time, which you gladly accepted. This was a goodbye with a footnote craving out the date of a future meeting. 

“Do you have a place to stay?” he asked during the embrace. “You can stay with me.”

“I’m okay, Seungmin,” you replied with a pat on his back, your eyes shutting into a peaceful smile. “I’ll text you after work.”

Your relieved smile was a sure sight, a tender view, for Jisung, who stood on the open porch that connected the school building to the backyard. Crescent eyes and crescent lips broke his heart into pieces he could not rearrange to fit by himself. You would rather meet secretly with Seungmin than return to him after every apologetic missed call and unread text because he hurt you. He hurt you. You hurt them, Jisung reminded himself. 

Tears welled up when you opened your eyes and saw Jisung. Yours were frightened and embarrassed; his were pained and panicked. Seungmin grew confused when you flinched away, but he quickly caught up with the situation once he turned around and found all three of his friends standing by the porch. He cursed under his breath; he ran out of reasonable time to look for something in his locker. 

Jisung hardened his gaze when he looked past Seungmin to find you scrambling with the red string on your hands. He could recall everything you said about your magic and every sight he has seen of you doing it. Red strings were for strong-type magic, like enhanced abilities. But technically, you could use any color strings for anything with the consequence of greater discomfort, like what happened the other day with the car crash. If there were one thing you would do now, it would be to run away. 

You were running away. You were leaving him. 

“Wait! [Name], please!” 

Jisung leaped forward with his arm outstretched as if he could reach you from such a great distance. But you were gone in a second, not even sparing him another glance before the magic took you away. All that was left for him was the weight of his school bag hanging on his shoulders, the accidental scrape of his shoe against the edge of the porch steps, and a painful faceplant against the filthy ground. 

Felix gasped in shock. Hyunjin stared with sympathy at Jisung’s fallen body. Both of them were halted to an uncertain pause when Jisung’s fists curled against the ground. 

Tremors passed through Jisung’s body because the fall was painful. His nose felt broken; it was not. His forehead felt to have grown a bump; it did not. His knees and the heels of his palms were scraped with dirt and blood—that was correct. In an attempt to brace himself, he had reached his arms out before he fell, causing his skin to screech past the ground violently. And his uniform pants would never save his knees from any fall. 

It was painful. Everything was painful. He could only wish that his body remembered these injuries and his heart forgot the cause because the heart was where it hurt the most. 

Jisung missed you. There has not been a single empty moment without you infiltrating his head, taunting him of his misery and his desperate yearning for you. Jisung wanted you back. He wanted you back with him, sleeping, eating, laughing, and talking. It was all he wanted. 

He missed you, and he stopped being angry at you, and he was worried about you, and he was in love with you. He was so in love with you that it all turned into frustration, disappointment, and an impossible dream to return to wrestle himself for what he forgot to say. I’m angry at you right now, but I still love you. I still love you. I always will. Why didn’t he turn around? Why did he stomp away? He could have salvaged this!

Oh, but who was he to have such wants? He was but a boy who uttered the most hurtful things to you. He was just a boy who kicked you while you were down on your knees, and you were never going to get back up again anyway!

He was a boy who, for even a repulsive moment, acted on his capability to tear you to shreds, talking about you escaping your home, talking about you leaving your one family member behind, blaming you for everything. There was no reason for you to return to him after what he said to you. He didn’t deserve it. 

“I’m sorry–“ Jisung drilled his forehead against the ground because he couldn’t find a better way to make himself feel. Repulsed, pursed groans left his trembling lips as he dragged his skin along the dirt. He wanted to feel pain. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to feel beaten. He wanted his body to remember in return for his heart to forget. But the tears wouldn’t stop falling, and his ears wouldn’t stop ringing. “I’m sorry.”

Broken murmurs of apologies trickled out his lips like ants piled into a line. Felix wiped his eyes with the hem of his sweater as he stumbled toward Jisung. The freckled boy knelt beside Jisung with soft hands tracing across Jisung’s body. Felix attempted to slowly pick Jisung back up on his feet, ignoring the soured tip of his nose and the tearful redness at the corner of his eyes. 

“Come on, Jisung,” Felix pleaded. He placed his hand under Jisung’s forehead to shield his vulnerable skin. “It’s okay. Let’s get up, Jisung. Please?”

Hyunjin stood frozen on his spot. He has never seen Jisung in such a wretched state. He has never seen Jisung weep like a child before. He did not know what to think of it. He did not know what to make of all of this. Was it all so bad that it had to come down to this? You did something wrong, too, did you not? But he could never put himself in your shoes to understand your trauma, so he has no say in how you should react to someone who dared to pinch your sore point. 

But was all of this necessary? Avoiding each other, going radio silent, bloodying our hands, screaming unheard apologies into the air—was it all necessary?  

“Help me, you guys!” Felix whispered desperately.

Hyunjin peered down at Felix before he eyed Seungmin. His brows furrowed. Seungmin noticed the faraway stare and looked up to maintain eye contact with Hyunjin. There was a short conversation of blame, questions, and demand. Seungmin should reach out to you, Hyunjin thought, but he was only told that there was no easy way to bypass interpersonal conflict. Seungmin refused to trick you into meeting a boy you were afraid of confronting, so he wouldn’t. 

Stepping forward, Hyunjin crouched beside Jisung and helped Felix pull him up. Hyunjin sighed heavily when Jisung’s puffy red eyes met with his. He reached a hand up to delicately brush off the dirt on Jisung’s forehead, soothing over the bruised spot to earn a hiccuped flinch in response. 

“Hyunjin, I miss them–“ Jisung cried and hiccupped. “I miss [Name].” 

“It’s getting late,” Hyunjin could only say. He was sorry he could not do more. “We should go home.” 

Seungmin fiddled with his fingers when he saw the bloodied heel of Jisung’s palms. When the other two got Jisung to stand up and checked under his pants, Seungmin saw that Jisung’s knees were also doing less than gracefully.

He felt guilty for some reason. Perhaps someone in his position should be able to do more than wait and stay silent. Maybe this could have been resolved if he had pushed you more. Sometimes, overlooking a timid smile may be the solution. 

“We should–“ Seungmin cleared his throat. “We should go to the convenience store.”

“The one [Name] works at.”

“Jisung, I know you’re excited, but please stop shoving me.”

Jisung flashed an apologetic smile at a frowning Felix. Carefully pushing himself off Felix's back, he kept a hand on Felix's shoulder to steady his pained knees before poking his head between Felix and Hyunjin's arms to watch Seungmin enter the convenience store. Hyunjin nudged at Jisung's cheek in annoyance. However, he made space for the enthusiastic boy by stepping to the side just enough to still be covered by the pedestrian bush. 

Seungmin held back a hefty sigh when he approached the automatic doors. But between going inside and telling you his purpose of being here at this hour and turning back to watch Jisung's eyes fall flat for what would probably be the rest of his life, he chose this.

He decided to give you the unasked push everyone in the know needed. He chose to be the hand that brings the glue closer to the one missing piece. 

The automatic doors slid open with the usual welcoming chime. He looked to the left to find the register counter vacant, so he turned and checked for the aisles.

As expected, you were sitting at the window table having a dinner break, but he could tell you were watching for whoever walked in the store just in case you had to ring a customer up. When you saw that it was just Seungmin, though, you relaxed. 

“Hey!” you called with a wave. “What are you doing here?”

“Jisung is outside.” Seungmin wasted no time. 

You were chewing the remaining food in your mouth, and your slow but steady movements showed the reluctance you didn't have with words. Your gaze followed suit with unease and distrust, the chopsticks in your hand falling. 

It wasn't that you hated Jisung. You could never. All of this happened because your devotion to him was blind and faithful. It was the unknown that haunted you. Jisung's repulsed gaze reflected in the mirror every time you looked at yourself.

Have they remained in his eyes until now? His violating words mirrored your judgment about yourself. Did he still think of you that way now? He hurt you because you hurt him first. You hurt him first. This was your fault. 

You couldn’t take the risk of spiraling. You had to avoid him at all costs. You needed to walk away from the chance of making another mistake, even if it meant bidding a silent farewell to him forever. 

“I’m so sorry,” Seungmin added. “But he’s hurt. He’s really hurt. He’s bleeding.” 

Your brows furrowed sorrowfully, and you perked up from your seat. Your eyes darted out the window to look for any signs of people, but you saw none. Barely anyone walks by this area at this time of night. “What happened?” 

Seungmin breathed a sigh of relief at your concern. He had been rigidly afraid of having to resort to violence, which just meant he would kick you off the chair and drag you outside by the ear.

Jabbing a thumb behind his shoulder, he recounted what happened briefly. "Jisung tripped and fell on the ground when you teleported away. He stayed on the floor crying. He was hitting himself and everything."

What you felt reached beyond mere guilt. From the sound of it, he must have been crying. Huffing out a shivering breath, you allowed the pain in your abdomen to dissolve into acid and spread through your limbs. It was painful. Your feelings were painful. Everything was painful. 

“Why do I keep doing this? Why do I keep hurting him?” you whispered, tongue filled with violent accusations. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Hey, nothing is wrong with you,” Seungmin urged after he quickly approached you. “Nothing is wrong with you. What happened was a gross case of miscommunication. You two suffered the consequences. It’s all done. Jisung is out there right now. He needs to be healed, and he wanted to see you, so please–“

He picked you up by your arm and shook your shoulders. He faked the motion of slapping your face twice before he huffed with determination. “Pull yourself together!”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and in disbelief. But, after a moment, you nodded and told him to bring Jisung inside. Meanwhile, you headed to the back room to get your handy pack of strings.

There wasn't much left, which wasn't an issue for a small healing job. But you would need to have it refilled eventually. You usually did it by sneaking back to the city, but now that you've talked it out with Minho, perhaps you could arrange a delivery instead. 

You pushed the door open with your shoulder while untangling the green string. An exhale brushed past your lips in exhaustion once you looked up and saw Jisung standing by the counter table. His palms were faced skyward, reddened with ground debris and blood scratches. His pants were rolled above his knees to air out his wounded knees. His eyes were puffy and teary as he stared at you, unsure if it was from the physical pain or seeing you.

“You’re so clumsy,” you muttered when you were near.

“I’m sorry,” he replied softly, his eyes shakily following your face. 

You didn't say anything. Jisung trailed behind you and followed you to a seat. You took his hand in yours and did what you were most familiar with—using magic. He watched as your palm hovered over his, and his hand remained rigid in your other hand despite how gently you held him. He swallowed a gulp of saliva down his throat, realizing how empty he had felt in the past weeks once you touched him again.

The unfulfillment had been so stagnant in getting him used to not having you around that he almost forgot about it. He was, with uncertainty, grateful to be reminded of it. 

There were crickets of stinging pain when the soil and debris got sucked out of his flesh, and he recalled you telling him that healing magic was a reversal process rather than a magical process. The feelings of his skin closing together felt weirder with that knowledge in mind. You did the same thing to his other hand and scraped his knees in complete silence. As it happened, there was no single word or eye contact between you. 

There was evident awkwardness in the air, but the tension was so wobbly and breakable it could cut neither of you. Since the last argument and the consequences of it, the atmosphere that would mold when you and Jisung were near each other grew softer, soft with fear and caution to keep history from repeating. 

You looked up after his knees were healed up. Your eyes brushed past his above; just between the gaps of his hair, you noticed a faint redness.

Dismay grumbling out your lips, you reached up to hold his bangs out of his forehead. Jisung winced when your hand came in contact with the small cut he made when he was dragging his head against the backyard floor, but he didn't mind you touching his head. 

“Did you fall face-first on the floor?” you asked as you hovered your stringed hand over the bruised cut.

Jisung nodded. “You can say that.” 

You huffed in annoyance not directed toward him, and he looked away from your face in the self-induced reflection. He should not have dragged his forehead through the mud. He didn’t think you would be so upset over it.

The lingering background pain faded before you leaned back into yourself on your seat. In a matter of a minute, his body was back to normal. If he weren’t in such a sorry state, he would verbally suggest going on a fearless rampage with this kind of immediate healthcare coverage. He could do almost anything!

“This is not an invitation for you to go jumping around,” you said pointedly when you saw the thoughtful spacing in his eyes.

Jisung perked up slowly, returning to the present. “I wasn’t even thinking about that.” He laughed a little and shook his head in denial. When he saw your prolonged glance, he shuddered timidly and shrugged. “I’ve never touched dry ice before.”

His mother had some groceries delivered to the apartment the other day, and they came with a pack of dry ice to preserve some of the food that came in the box. The icy air surrounding it felt refreshing to Jisung; he only wanted to touch it. He was repeatedly advised against it, making him want to do it more. 

“Oh jeez–please don’t do that,” you groaned.

“What the–you and Seungmin are so annoying! It’s not like I’ll die from it!” he slurred out animatedly. 

“I’m sure it’s not just me and Seungmin.” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, yeah? Of course, my mom would tell me no. That is when you guys come in and encourage me to try it out! Parents say no; friends say yes!” he spilled confidently. “Hyunjin was in on it! He’s the true ride-or-die, I guess.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and leaned your body to the side. You looked out the convenience store doors.

Felix perked up when he saw you looking by the wall. He clapped his hands with a bright smile, waved, and looked to the side to pull Hyunjin out from hiding. Hyunjin stumbled with a curse, but he let Felix hold on to his wrist in excitement from seeing you again.

Looking up from the floor, Hyunjin searched for your eyes. He pulled a face at the deadpan glare you sent him from miles away; he knew there was a reason for it. He just wasn’t sure what Jisung told you. 

“The first thing he does is talk shit about us to [Name],” Hyunjin muttered.

Felix giggled, clearly not a care in the world now that his friends were making up with each other. Seungmin rolled his eyes with a scoff and made sure his comment about how Jisung was only talking about Hyunjin was loud enough to be heard.

The two got into a minor hissy fit, where Seungmin remained still, and Hyunjin looked more exhausted than ever. You could see the grimaces on Hyunjin's face from inside the store.

“Those two are at it again,” you muttered to Jisung.

“They always are,” he said mindlessly, playing with your fingers. “Did I tell you about what happened the other day at the library? It was so stupid. Hyunjin was–"

“Ow! Hey!” 

Jisung looked up innocently when you winced after he pulled a hangnail off your index finger. A small apology threw up from his stomach when you glared at him. He smoothed over the sore spot with the tip of his finger, rubbing the redness gently and slowly erupting into laughter upon your persistent grumpy expression. 

You didn't pull away from him. He thought that meant something. Forgiveness, perhaps. Forgiveness that was given without an actual apology; forgiveness reserved only for those who are the dearest to us; forgiveness that was strong enough to shape the air around you, making everything mellow and soft again. And you two would not hurt each other again. You two would never hurt each other again. 

"We all missed you a lot," he said as he released your hand. "I missed you a lot." 

“Enough to trip and fall?” You smirked in amusement.

Jisung sighed with a quirk on his lips, embarrassed. “Yeah.” 

It took one final stare—this time, you could see longing eating away at your irises—before you two broke down. Silent tears fell down Jisung's cheeks as he reached for a hug. You returned the embrace with equal devotion in your strength, both of you doing your best to crush each other's bones and physically submerge yourselves into each other. Anything separating your bodies was a nuisance; your clothes, flesh, skin, everything. 

“I love you,” he mumbled. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “I love you too.”

You two would not hurt each other again. You two would never hurt each other again. 

Felix hopped on his spot when you showed up at the glass doors. He squealed in celebration and left Hyunjin’s side to jog over to where you were. Jisung pursed his lips into a smile when Felix almost tackled you to the ground with a hug. His eyes trailed from his excited friend to behind his shoulders, where Hyunjin and Seungmin were approaching. When Jisung caught Seungmin’s eyes, Seungmin breathed a relieved sigh that reflected how Jisung himself felt about the ending of this stoic period.

There was a newfound perspective that Jisung was too absorbed in his sorrow to see before. The way Seungmin looked like the weight of responsibility got lifted off his shoulders, how Felix immediately trapped you in a tight embrace, and the fond smirk seeping onto Hyunjin’s face—the hostile tension impacted everyone, and everyone was glad to see you again. 

It was no news that you have blended into becoming an inseparable component of this friend group. But, with the tightly bound relationship you and Jisung share, it would slip his mind sometimes how much you were sewn into his friends' lives, to a point where the lack of your presence had caused a strain in their routine.

The affectionate stake to Hyunjin's ego, the partnered softness in Felix's life, and the permanence in Seungmin's loyalty. This was never just about Jisung. This was about everybody, friends who would lie and die for each other. 

Jisung smiled at Seungmin when he was near the quiet boy standing a few feet away from the commotion by the convenience store doors. There wasn’t anything they had to say to each other. The purposeful brush on the back of their hands conveyed gratitude. 

“What did Jisung say about me?” Hyunjin asked, standing tall before you. 

There was a ringing in your ear, but you ignored it. You eyed him with a playful glare. “Did you actually agree to touch dry ice with Jisung?”

He giggled and opened his arms to hug you. You accepted it begrudgingly. When his head lowered enough to your ears, he replied, “I was never going to let him do it. I gotta take care of him when you’re not here, you know?” 

That was how it was, you supposed. Initially, you thought Seungmin would be the one to look after everyone, but being the decision-maker of the group did not come with the kind of life skills that Hyunjin grew up being taught by his family. Felix lived in wealth, Jisung’s parents did everything for him, and Seungmin could negate most responsibilities in return for academic success. Hyunjin juggled every homely activity to support his parents’ lack of presence at home. 

From cooking to cleaning, fixing clothes to perfectly putting on a mattress cover, making a doctor’s appointment to negotiating grocery prices—Hyunjin has always been the person to go to. You appreciated his help whenever you, surprisingly, needed it. 

You hummed, attempting to relish in Hyunjin’s lanky figure, but the ringing in your ears bothered you. There was nothing in the atmosphere.

The ringing came from a sense of sudden dread, a downcast of paranoia. Something was coming. Something was coming directly at you. You raised your hand, the green strings you felt glad you hadn’t taken off yet, and you discreetly muttered a chant under your breath just as the convenience store collapsed onto you and Hyunjin. 

A hammering in Felix's ears came from witnessing a natural hazard. The dust drowned his eyes, but he found looking away from the fallen building impossible. He shook his head and attempted to steady his heavy breathing. No, this wasn't a natural hazard. He did not feel anything.

The ground did not shake under his feet, the ocean did not cover the city, and the wind did not pick up across the map. The convenience store collapsed onto his friends because something he couldn't clearly pick out crashed into it.

Seungmin grabbed Felix's hand and pulled the stunted boy to his side. His other hand restricted Jisung's haphazard and impulsive movement.

The tightness of his hands wrapped around his friends helped cease the tremors traveling across his arms. However, the clear suspicion of what could have caused such a commotion struck a permanent fear in Seungmin's chest. It would be best to wait it out. It would be best to trust you and wait it out in case someone none of them can deal with comes into the picture. 

The green string was generous with your usage of it. With shaking arms, you shoved off the rubbles on your body and cleared a space to sit up. You could feel Hyunjin under your knees. Before you even looked for your other friends, you gazed downward to find him lying beneath you. 

Anything below his waist should be fine. You suspected that since most of your damage was done unto your arms, torso, and head.

That would make sense. The building collapsed on you mid-chant, meaning the protection spell you were casting was done halfway from the ground up, protecting your legs and lower body. Hyunjin seemed to have gotten the short end of the stick with the heavy rubbles as blood trickled down the side of his face from an invisible spot on his head.

The back of his palms was bruised with red; you swore you could feel them near your head when it all went down.

You called his name, and he responded with silence. “It’s okay,” you said to yourself as you hastily pushed off the cement blocks covering his body so you could pull him out from under the weight.

Preoccupied, you did not notice the floating figure descending from skyward. When he called out your name, you finally looked up, and you froze at the recognizable face—the councilman who took charge of you after your family’s murder. There was no concrete evidence of his involvement, but from his forceful way of care and blatant distaste for you, it was evident to you, even as a child, that he was part of the plan to take your family down. 

Jisung watched with praying eyes as you scrambled to pull Hyunjin’s unconscious body toward your chest as if protecting him. He followed Felix and Seungmin’s gaze toward the councilman, who finally reached the ground with his feet and mumbled, “Who is that?”

“Nobody good,” Seungmin replied. 

The councilman observed the destruction he caused with disinterest. His mind was focused on accessing the group of children he saw—one he wanted and the other four disposables. A sparkle in the air caught his keen and experienced eyes, which he soon realized was the red string of fate. It tied between you and the scrawny-looking boy wearing a dirtied school uniform. He clicked his tongue; he disliked unkempt clothing, but what mattered now was the string and its meaning. So it was one child he wanted, one child he could exploit, and the remaining three (or two) were disposable. 

"What are you doing here?" you asked aloud to gain the elder's attention. When he shot a sharp glance at you, your glare deafened into a flinch, and you unconsciously cradled Hyunjin closer to you. You were still afraid of him. No matter how many years have passed, you would always be more afraid of him than you could hate him, and you hated him intensely. 

“Pointless question, [Name],” he replied calmly. “What other purpose would I have other than to bring you back to the city.”

Felix could piece two and two together much more quickly this time. The severity of the situation and the fearful adrenaline burning in his chest could have forced his brain to react so quickly. The second he heard the councilman speak of taking you away to where you escaped from, he knew he could not listen to a single word that man had to say. He shouldn’t already, considering what happened to you and Hyunjin—a whole building? Was that necessary?

Snatching his hand away from Seungmin, Felix bolted toward you and knelt beside you. He crossed his arm through yours, holding you tightly, and glared at the councilman. “They’re not going anywhere with you! Leave us alone!”

Seungmin watched defeatedly when Jisung escaped his grasp to follow Felix's lead. He genuinely could not understand the thought process but supposed he could not be the odd one. Fixing his backpack straps, he scoffed in annoyance and turned to the councilman. 

“You!” he called out impolitely. “Has it not been years? There is no point in bringing them back to the city now because having them there serves no real purpose. You should also start letting things go. How long do you really have to enjoy political power at your age?”

“Yeah!” Jisung echoed Seungmin’s sentiment. “You’ll get a heart disease before you die, old man!”

Felix peeked over at Jisung with an increasing frown. He whispered, “People usually do.”

“Confidence precedes logic, Felix. Shut up.”

It stopped being about having political power years ago. He already obtained that when your family was massacred, and your uncle was put in an eternal coma.

Your survival had been an unexpected gift. The plan was always to kill and personally tank public rapport's fall as speculations and rumors rise. But you became a calculative child that comes once in a blue moon, a lie in the making, a way to replenish their dignity. 

The plan became to kill and have every strand of responsibility fall on you. Pushing you to study and training you to become an elected council member just for you to fail was only part of the ploy. It was the part that they let you on and you ran away from.

The councilman remained stoic; an explanation reached not even the tip of his tongue. He could not say anything to your friends to garner an understanding of his reason for abusing and exploiting you. His prolonged silence was eerie.

It felt like he was planning every route you could take to escape this situation. You pursed your lips—he probably was planning, which would soon pose a threatening issue to you and all of your friends present. The tips of your fingers caressed Hyunjin’s cheek, almost as if to check if he remained warm, and you looked at Seungmin.

“You guys need to leave,” you said. “Take Hyunjin to the hospital.”

“[Name]–“

“Jisung, please,” you pleaded after you turned to him. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and his cheeks jutted into a frown so disagreeable that you wanted to cave in. You would have in any other situation. “I’ll come back. He won’t kill me, he needs me.”

"You're right. I won't kill you." The lightning pace at which you could switch your facial expression was comedic to the councilman, but you didn't think he was smirking because he saw anything worth laughing about. Waving his hand in the air, he cleared his throat. "I will kill them, though." 

The air rumbled gently for a few seconds before the debris around you began to shift around. The rocks and soil came together, weaving about in the air and assembling at one spot to mold into the shape of a human, particularly the councilman’s body shape.

Felix was the first one to be yanked away from your side. Immediately after were Jisung and Seungmin. Standing tall behind them were the stone clones of the councilman—his family magic was the ability to make clones of himself out of any surrounding resources. 

Jisung struggled against the clone’s grip but found himself rendered useless as the grip around his bony arm tightened mercilessly. Felix cluelessly scanned his surroundings, feeling his heart drop closer to the ground as seconds passed without a single passerby to help.

Seungmin remained still, unable to react due to how rash the situation was, saving him from unnecessary pain. His luck lasted no longer than a minute, though, as the second the councilman snapped his fingers, he found himself held at the pointed end of a jagged blade made of stone.

The clone’s arms have transformed to become weapons. How convenient. 

“Leave them alone!” 

You let go of Hyunjin for the first time since he fainted. With the green strings tightening around your forearms, you chanted a spell under your breath to pause the clone’s movements collectively. Then, seconds later, as you shot your arms outward for impact, they all crumbled as if you had their stone limbs removed piece by piece. 

Not wasting a single second, you pushed Felix and Jisung toward Seungmin. Then, you immediately turned to hoist Hyunjin into your arms.

You stood up with great difficulty, never quite realizing how much weight his taller height contributed to him, and you handed him to Seungmin. Reaching into your pocket, you fished out your rolls of remaining strings and sighed at your lack of choices—some purple, a few green, and an abysmal amount of red.

Unwrapping them from the card, you curled them around your palm except for the purple strings, which you used to create a teleportation pattern. 

“Take Hyunjin to the hospital,” you told Seungmin. “Don’t let Jisung go anywhere.” 

He noticed your one-way stare, and he understood it. 

Felix would protest against leaving you despite being in danger himself. He was that kind of boy, that kind of friend. More importantly, he was hard to refuse and hard to upset, which were traits you were not immune to.

Jisung was an even bigger problem for obvious reasons. His protests would be loud and outrageous, without a care for his safety as he charged into danger for your sake, only to almost always make things worse. He could not help you; you would never say that to his face again, but the truth remained, unfortunately, dear to you. In this case, confidence does not precede logic. 

Seungmin, though. He who was your best friend, he who knew your way of thinking more than anyone else, he who was good at accessing situations. You looked to him because you trusted him. You looked to him because you knew he would agree with your plan and because you knew he would let you go.

Even if he hated to, even if he was afraid, he kept Hyunjin’s body close to his side while he tightened his grip around your hand. As the teleportation portal hovered over him, he kept his grip on your hand promising; it screamed for you to come back, come back to me, come back to all of us. He would let go when the portal closes. 

“Jisung is being so loud,” Seungmin laughed. 

You raised your brows. “I know. I’m trying not to look–“ 

You got cut off and pinned against the nearest wall. The impact blown to the back of your head knocked on an uncomfortable sore spot, and a clone wrapped your neck in its hand. Your body writhed at the loss of ground, but you disregarded the pain to look off to the side where the teleportation portal was. Seungmin’s eyes were wide as he looked at you.

His arms circled Hyunjin’s body now, and he looked like he regretted letting you go. You ignored it as you reached your hand out meekly, your fingers curling shut to close it. Once it did, you deactivated the teleportation spell and recharged the strings on your forearm for an offensive attack. You slammed your fist against the clone, and it crumbled to the ground with you following it. 

You caught up with the breaths you lost in those few seconds of being choked. A fleeting sensation of electricity flowed across your arms before the sting became permanent. You have used your strings for more than their intended purposes, and they were starting to fight back by taking from you. But the pain was not so severe yet. You could negate it for a better thought.

Knowing that your friends were at a safer place made you feel immeasurable relief even though you were finally sent back to face the root of your trauma alone. It was always supposed to be this way, you thought. You had support along the way, but the final blow was an act only you could do. 

You were always meant to face the councilman by yourself, so you would. Stumbling to stand up, you raised your head to look at the older man, and your heart dropped.

Why was Jisung still here? 

This was in character of him! How did you not anticipate his rebellion? Of course, he managed to step through the portal before you could close it fully! Why couldn’t he just listen to you? God! Why did he always have to complicate things? All you wanted was his safety, and he flat-out refused that at every turn! 

“He didn’t jump through the portal,” the councilman broke your aggressive chain of thoughts. “I snatched him out of there before it closed. I might have broken your friend’s fingers.”

“You broke Felix’s fingers?” Jisung accused as he struggled against the grip a clone had on him. 

“An inconsequential question.” The councilman waved him off dismissively. He was only focused on you. “I’ve got your soulmate in my hands, so let’s strike a deal, [Name].”

You huffed sardonically, but you listened. Giving him an attitude was merely child’s play, something you needed to do to overshadow the sense of dread present over your body. 

“Come home with us, and I will let him go,” the councilman said. “Your friends will return to their daily lives. They will never hear from us, and you, ever again.”

“That’s not a daily life, asshole,” Jisung spat. “You’re taking my soulmate away from me. How can my life be normal?”

The councilman ignored Jisung, believing the boy was not worth his time. “If you don’t take the deal, we will start with this… thing over here,” the councilman gestured at Jisung. The clone gave his neck a threatening squeeze, causing Jisung to gasp out a fearful breath. “And you know what happens to the rest of your friends.”

Your shoulders slumped. It was a deal. To you, it was even a generous deal that he was willing to let go of loose ends in return for your cooperation.

You eyed Jisung, who looked appalled that you seemed to be considering the councilman’s words. His face further disintegrated into a silent type of madness, with words pushing out the corners of his mouth, but his voice was rendered silent when you began to negotiate with the elder.

“What about my uncle? He’s still in a coma.”

“He will remain so, but we will not kill him.”

“What about me?”

The councilman hummed. “Framed for your family’s murder and sentenced to prison. But, if you come now, I can secretly arrange something more comfortable for you.”

Jisung whipped his head upward to stare at the man in shock. "Who is going to believe that? They were a child at that time!"

"It's not about the truth. It's about what they're willing to be framed for."

The councilman must be out of his mind, not just because the plan may not work in his favor but also because thinking of doing something ridiculous was beyond Jisung’s imagination.

You have spent years as a runaway just for him to waltz into this city and ask if you could take the fall for your family’s death, which wouldn't have made any sense anyway! Who in their right mind would believe that? Was ridiculous crimes like this typical among extremely young magic users, and he simply would never understand it?

But you were considering it. With Jisung’s life on the line, you were considering it. 

You have partially given up on curing your uncle, and it has been years since what happened that you held more hatred than grief toward your family’s tragic demise. You have, more or less, gotten over the past. With the help of this newfound friend group, your legs were able to move you to the present and help you look forward to the future.

If these people die, if your friends die because you weren’t strong enough to save them all, that would be a fresh wound waiting to be nursed inappropriately through avoidance and overexertion. That would be a scar you pick at to keep feeling it to fulfill your unquenchable thirst to suffer for your mistakes.

The councilman was making you a deal. A good deal. 

It was a deal you did not want to take. 

“How do I know you will leave my friends alone?” you asked.

“I don’t wish to have anything to do with children like them,” he replied. “I’m only here for you.”

You couldn’t trust him, but you have to. You have to let yourself believe that he would leave everyone alone—your soulmate, your friends, your uncle, and perhaps even you, eventually. All you had to do was go with him.

Looking over at Jisung, who had a strangled expression on his face, your palpitating heart came to a quick halt at the recollection of all that had happened ever since you met him.

He has done so much for you, and you hurt his feelings. Immediately after you promised each other that you would never do so again. You just keep hurting him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you let your arms fall limp at your side, and you nodded. “Okay,” you told him. “I’ll go. I need to talk to him for a little. Please.”

The man looked at you suspiciously. He gave Jisung a shove, and the boy stumbled forward. Realizing that he was finally free, he glanced behind him at the intimidating man before his head snapped back at you.

His heart broke when he looked at you, finding it hard to believe you chose to accept the deal instead of fighting against it. But when he made his way to you, his hands reaching desperately for yours, all he could do was giggle.  

“You thought I jumped through the portal,” he whispered.

You pursed your lips into a bitter smile. “I did. I’m sorry.”

“I was going to, actually,” he beamed a little. “To stay here with you.” 

You hummed out a low chuckle. Jisung was a precious boy. He was a lovely boy. He always has been. From his willingness to be fragile to his extraordinary capacity to love, from his loyal persistence to his forgiving nature, from the moment you met him until now.

He has taught you everything you knew, and he has given you all that you have come to love, and you learned that the red string of fate was a mere suggestion. The affection that blossomed between you both was chosen. You loved each other even before realizing you were meant to be. 

With your hand pressed against his soft cheek, your lips quirked downwards into a soft smile as it hit you just how much leaving him would tear you apart. Jisung mirrored your smile, pushing your palm against his cheek and pulling a face to lighten the mood before he dampened it into a grim mood.

“Are you going to leave me?” he asked.

You sucked in a breath and pinched his cheek. “If you look at me longer, I might not.”

Jisung grinned. You could see your reflection in his squinted eyes regardless. “But I’m always looking at you.”

“Guess I will have to figure something out, then.” You reached in to hug him around his neck, burying your face close to his neck to sniff his scent for a little.

When you pulled away, Jisung looked apologetic, as if this had all been his fault. You stared at him fondly, but not without a tinge of bitterness laced beneath your equally apologetic eyes. You brushed the hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to live without me for a little while.”

He followed you after you took a peek at the councilman to notify him that you were ready to leave. He trailed behind you without letting go of your hand and approached the elder with you. His grip tightened when he felt the councilman’s gaze on him.

“That boy will not be coming with us.”

“I know,” you said as you stepped closer to the man’s side and turned around to face Jisung. You gave him a nod. “He’s just holding onto me.” 

The councilman sneered faintly. Young love. He knew nothing of it, and you wouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t.

After he held up his hand and waved his slender fingers, the air around you picked up, gradually blowing a pile of fallen leaves on the ground from all corners of the area toward you.

The wind pushed the weightless leaves into the air and circled them into a portal-shaped entrance that would gradually close around you and him. Jisung gawked at the phenomenon; he would have been so excited if you weren't leaving him indefinitely. 

Jisung could feel his heartbeat as he anxiously waited for the closing portal to reach just a certain point below your head, nose, and waist, a tiny circle of opening. Then he slammed his other hand around your wrist and pulled at you! Harshly!

You ducked low so your head could go through the rapidly closing portal—you were right about the councilman panic-closing it. You hopped up, and with Jisung pulling on the other side, you barely grazed past the edge of the pressuring leaves and went out the other side. 

He wrapped his arms around you to shield you from the rolling fall. His chest heaved up and down visibly to catch his breath, and you quickly sat up. He followed your movement, his eyes wide as he looked to you for confirmation that you were okay.

When he briefly glanced down at your propped legs, he frowned at the burn on your sneakers and the disgusting gash the portal left on one of your ankles. It was bleeding profusely, but you were not reacting to it because you realized the portal hadn’t fully closed yet.

“He caught on.” You cursed under your breath as you immediately got up, grabbing Jisung. 

Your eyes fearfully glanced back and forth between the purple string and the reopening of the councilman's portal. As you focused on creating a pattern, you could hear Jisung's breath quickening as a sign that something was looming over. You looked up to find a clone standing behind you, inching very close for comfort—all you did was take your eyes off for longer than a second. The councilman was already planning to exert force.

You angrily forgone the pattern you were making for something entirely random; all you needed was a medium to use magic. It didn't have to be accurate anymore. 

You made the first punch, the power-up of your strings allowing you to push the clone a few yards away from you. You took the chance to advance at his incoming clones, hiking up your speed and strength to escape rather than win this fight. You were never going to win. The councilman's clones were durable, made of natural resources, and littered everywhere.

Rather than a fight of ability, this was a fight of wits and stamina. You could exhaust him or catch him off-guard so you could run away. Then it was laying low until he found you again. The cycle would only end at his death. 

Jisung watched as you landed a kick to the first shadowy figure and then another. He wasn't sure what else he could do at this point. It wasn't like he could join the fight and punch one of them. Or could he?

He tilted his head, and his eyes rounded in thought. Sure, they were strong, as displayed just a while ago. But he observed that they were made of stones that crumble easily. Would he have something to use in his backpack? An ultra-heavy textbook, perhaps?

You slammed a clone to the concrete wall when you saw that it was trying to regroup the rocks that used to be its arm, and you squeezed its neck and made sure you broke it before letting go. Turning around, it took you a moment to process the sight of Jisung creeping up behind one of the clones.

Your eyes widened as you moved forward, knowing reasonably well his presence was probably detected, but before you could take a step forward, you were held back by both of your arms. You cursed and squirmed. Letting out a vacant scream, a blow of air pressure pushed the rock clones backward. 

Jisung squealed when the clone he was approaching snapped around at the commotion. He clenched his fingers over the hard-cover calculus textbook and made a clumsy throw. The book slammed into the clone’s chest, breaking a hole and causing its body to crumble.

He huffed at the unexpected result of his attack, ready to pump his fists in the air to cheer, only to be caught by a pair of human hands instead. He looked up and gasped at the councilman glaring down at him. 

“Hey! Hands off!” you yelled after you saw the whitening knuckles on the elder’s hands, squeezing Jisung’s wrists like his life depended on it. Pointing a finger at the councilman, you chanted with the sparks of your strings jumping across your skin, “Incendium!”

Upon the heated burn on his skin, the councilman forcefully let Jisung go, causing him to stumble to the ground. You wasted no time unleashing another attack, waving your hand to create an electrical barrier around the councilman where it would threaten to close around him if he moved.

He gritted his teeth, sneering at you momentarily before he seemed to collect his emotions. He stood straight, but his arms twitched eerily as if summoning something. You knew he was trying to think up something to get out of the electrical ward you’ve built up around him, so you quickly turned to Jisung and flicked your wrist. 

“Motus,” you said under your breath, bringing him to you with a movement spell. Quickly dragging him to his feet, you reached over his head and hugged him to you, a familiar spell leaving your lips. “Phasmatos Ianua Reclu.”

A portal appeared and wrapped itself around you both, sending you guys away from the alleyway and to a more remote area Jisung could not recognize. When you two landed on the ground, your alerted mind scanned your surroundings thoroughly—you two made it to a ghosty riverside near a residential area.

It was a sketchy shortcut students used to get home quicker or sometimes to hang around and throw rocks under the bridge walls.  

It was one of the many locations you resided in before Jisung’s parents graciously took you in. You never slept around this place. You only liked sitting on the edge of the bridge and watching the sun go about its way in the sky. Occasionally, you would hide behind shadows and watch over those stumbling back home after a late night. 

You finally gave yourself the time to catch your breath when you came to the fortunate conclusion that you made it out of the convenience store area. Whoever has the morning shift tomorrow must deal with the collapsed building.

Your brows furrowed when the adrenaline rush in your lungs began to fade because the pain and fatigue finally settled in. You inhaled and choked on the air, making you pant in hyperventilation. As you tried to breathe, your body broke down in rigid shivers, but your skin and bones ached through the blood seeping through your wounds. 

Jisung stumbled in the process of catching your body. He dropped to the ground with you, anxious tears welling up in his eyes and his mouth blurting out strings of incoherent thoughts he failed to keep in his mind. He had no idea your strings had already seeped deep into your arms. He had barely seen anything just then. 

Should he call an ambulance? How would he explain this situation? If the medical institution discovered a magical threat in the city, would they get the government involved? You could be taken away and jailed! They could capture you and hand you over to protect the city.

Or, the magical council has all the capabilities to wreak havoc on innocents who are just doing their jobs, too, would it not? No, that cannot be the case. They must have some form of signed treaty to prevent those situations. He should call an ambulance and lie. No! Wait to talk until he gets an attorney!  

His eyes fumbled and shook as they glanced over your figure. His hands were unsure of where to put themselves. He has always been gentle with you, but he was deathly afraid of the pressure a pair of gentle hands can add to your skin.

Red, red, red, red, red, red—you have multiple strings on each arm, spaced without a pattern. Multiple strings were taking and taking the resources your body could provide. Strings tainted with the shade of your blood to a point its original color could no longer be recognized. 

“We need, uhm… shit–” Jisung worried himself into a short coughing fit, which urged his tears to spill, and he began to sob uncontrollably–“we need less blood. You’re bleeding a lot. I can remember the healing pattern with the–what about grass? Does grass count as strings? I can split the grass into tiny pieces. They will be like needles!” 

Your strings were all too short to be used energetically. They were sucking up as much as they could to fulfill your needed output to fight a man twice your age and twice the knowledge you have in magic.

They knew from your erratic heartbeat, from the calm you received when you gazed at Jisung, and your wish was to get him out of there no matter what. So they sunk into your skin, and you bled and bled and bled. 

Jisung cooed under his breath when you dropped to the side into his body. He carefully wrapped you between him, his twitchy fingers hovering above your head fearfully. There must not be anything he could do but let you rest. You would have told him if there was, so he stayed quiet. He pressed his lips together to avoid huffing for air so his chest could remain a stable wall to lean on, and he waited for you to recover temporarily. 

Desperately, he held in his tears. He almost looked ugly doing so; his neck ached from looking at the sky whenever he felt the swelling in his eyes, the muscles of his cheeks stretched as he forced a smile onto his face to decrease his desire to sob, and he would not let himself breathe as he needed to.

He suffocated in helplessness; he was suffocating in uselessness. He could only rock himself back and forth with you being fragile in his arms.  

The ache in his chest was not tolerable. He despised it. He should have never asked you to stay for him. He should have made a promise to find you instead. He should have heard you out. He should have apologized earlier. He should never have gotten upset. He should never have been selfish.

If you had never been his soulmate, it would have been for a reason; his perceived unworthiness owned a strong presence in your relationship. It made sense for you both to be without a link. It made sense. 

The universe did make an incompetent choice, but it was on your part that it made a mistake. 

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, this is all my fault,” Jisung whispered as he looked down at you.  

You opened your eyes to hint that you received his words. Endearment rushed to the top of your head, and your eyes started to fawn over Jisung’s face.

There was tenderness in his tears and snot, the redness of his face, and the wetness of his lashes. There was love in his ugliness, and there was love in his willingness to show you his ugliness. He was ugly, and your heart leaped because you were enamored with him. 

“Silly boy,” you exhaled. 

He was but a child. You were, too, just a child. None of all of this was any of your fault. Children should never blame themselves for an adult’s mistake, even if they had loved them. 

“You’ve got a cut on your cheek. Does it hurt?” you asked.

“I cannot feel it,” he replied with several curt nods, holding you closer. He didn’t even know he got injured. “I can only feel yours.” 

You pulled your lips into a thin line once you were aware of your sour arms. They felt much better now that you ceased the magic, but the permanent stitch your family heritage held around your body would continue to deal you blows until someone came around to tank it for you. Your consciousness brushed past the strings, and you relaxed for the wave of depression that dropped over your head. 

You wished your parents were here. You wished your uncle would wake up. You wished Minho would appear with a change of heart. You wished magic could have been taught to you, and you didn't have to learn it at your pace. You wished you were more knowledgeable, and you wished you were stronger. You wished you had someone capable of handling this situation to cry to. You wished your family did not leave you things that could hurt as their parting gift. 

You wished you had help because, for the first time, you were truly helpless.

There was nothing you could do now but hope things turn out for the better. 

You wished it did not have to come to this.  

Dust collected around the ground without you noticing. There was no warning when you were suddenly blown back a few feet. You coughed against the floor once you stopped dragging. You could feel the blood through your possibly ripped clothes, your arms began surging with blood against the friction, and you hurt all over.

Your head hammered, your eyes infiltrated with dirt, and your lips became bitter and dry. You hurt all over. You wanted to die. 

Jisung was no longer beside you, and unfortunately, you knew too well the source of the sudden and very generous explosion. Scrambling to get up, you barely pulled yourself together so you could look around in search of his body.

You squinted your eyes, your head turning left and right, and then you finally caught sight of a fallen figure once the fog began to vanish. You choked up in shock with widened eyes and tumbled forward clumsily in an attempt to stand up. 

Your knees ached to the point you could barely stand and walk. After one too many falls, you resorted to dragging yourself over to him. His weak arms lay by his side; he seemed lifeless, but you did not want to be sure yet. Ignoring the cracks in your lungs, jagged breaths forcing themselves out of your parted lips to keep you alive enough, you pathetically wiggled your way over to the boy you loved. 

Footsteps inched closer to where you struggled, and just before your fingertips touched that of Jisung’s, the councilman grabbed you by your hair with ease and pulled yours upward. You struggled against his grasp while his free hand went around the front of your throat loosely, unlikely being unsure of his next move but rather wanting to give his peace of mind before executing his plan. 

“That was smart, I must admit,” he said slowly, eying you without remorse. “But you’ve made a mistake of bleeding all over the floor, [Name]. It isn’t hard to track you with my clones when your blood smells so strong.” 

You lost the capability to look below yourself. His grip on your hair yanked your neck backward so you could only stare at his terrible face. But he was right. He was telling the truth. You made a mistake on that part, yet simultaneously, you could not have predicted what he could do with your level of understanding when it came to magic.

There were millions of tracking spells with millions of loopholes. Preventing one does not mean you can avoid the other.  

“I hate you,” you declared tearfully. “I did nothing to you.” 

“Bad things happen to everyone. Tragedy is not karma. It does not descend only upon the worst. It is indiscriminate,” he mused. 

“You only did bad things to my family,” you spat. 

“I never said I was the incarnation of tragedy, only one of its executioners,” he said, looking at you with boredom. “I gave you a chance to leave peacefully, but you’ve chosen the alternative. I hope you understand that you were the one who brought this upon yourself and your friends.” 

He dropped you carelessly, and you fell to the ground with a harsh thud. You groaned at the pain that spiked up your arm, having landed your weight directly on it. There was no resting moment as you quickly realized the councilman was making his way to where Jisung was.

You strung out throaty and strangled screams then, the rush of fear giving you the push you needed to stand up, only for you to fall a couple of steps later. 

The councilman crouched near Jisung and acknowledged him when they met eyes. Jisung could barely tell what was going on; his body felt shattered. He was thrown against something, perhaps a lamp pole, and he swore his head scratched something sharp. He could not be sure. He just knew he was losing consciousness, and he could not dare to move with stinging pain. But he knew the face of that man. He recognized the face of the man who ruined everything, and he was spiteful. 

Mustering as much strength as he could, Jisung spat, “Go to Hell.” 

The councilman was prepared to grab Jisung by his collar when he stopped. The pause of movement indicated an examination of the fallen boy, and he wondered if someone as old as he wanted a weak and wilfully annoying teenager to be as affective as he wanted to be. Go to Hell? What magnificent words. He would be thinking about them when he heads to bed tonight. 

“We all shall,” the councilman said. Not a moment later, he stood back up to approach you. He noticed your tear-stained cheeks and ignored them, picking you up like a rag doll and turning you to face him. 

“I realize you will never succumb to the council willingly so long as he, or any of your friends, exist on this Earth. If they are why you stay, then I shall eliminate those reasons, which I planned to start with that one over there,” the councilman said. “But it seems he has landed on something sharp. Death would be upon him very soon.”  

“Hmm! No-wait! Stop!” you protested within his grasp when you realized he was planning to bring you out of this place. You squirmed and moved about, hoping he would drop you to the ground. “Stop it, please! Let me go! Let me go!” 

Taken back by your sudden burst of strength, the councilman released you. He watched with old annoyance as you scrambled up from the ground and darted away. Fresh blood slid over the old, but the pain never once stopped. Nevertheless, you tumbled over to where Jisung lay and halted to kneel when you were near. 

There was no visible detection of an injury on his body, but a pool of blood was coming from beneath his torso and head. Your agitated breathing quickened in the face of a medical enigma.

There was no way for you to heal his injuries if you knew not the questions of where nor what. You needed to prepare for the type of strings, their length, the kind of spells, and many more things to successfully maintain the most remarkable outcome: Jisung staying alive. 

“Okay, okay,” you exhaled through your words and looked affirmatively at him. “Where does it hurt? Do you-do you know?” 

“It is the back of his head and the left side of his chest.” 

You closed your eyes, letting the burning anger that manifested from merely hearing the sound of the councilman's voice ring away, and then you heeded his words. Reaching your hand down to his neck, you cooed at Jisung with a warning that you were going to touch for his injury before, bravely and with a lot of heartache, you pressed the tips of your fingers against his skin. 

You winced when he withered, and apologies left your lips in rapid fire. You were unsure how he managed to get a cut like that, but you have got to assume a similar issue was present on his back. Since there was nothing sharp around his neck area, that must mean whatever he landed on was protruding through his chest.

It was not invisible before, but the more you were aware, the more the blood was growing in his dark-colored clothes. It soaked into his black vest, dripping to his gray uniform pants.  

It must be agonizing and perhaps even weird to have something lodged in your body so violently.  

“Okay, it’s okay,” you mumbled through an infuriated jumble of thoughts. 

You moved your hands around your pockets, looking for any extra strings you could use that hadn’t already been rooted deep into your arms. When you found none, you took off your bag and rummaged through all your things, hoping to find even a strand of saving grace. 

The councilman watched your measly figure with intrigue. Human devotion was as intense as possible, that much the old man understood. He did not go through his life condemning himself without a thought of devotion. But what he gave his life to was power and wealth, a beyond comfortable life where he could sneer and condescend, not other people or a soulmate. 

The fearful adrenaline rush must have ceased your ability to feel pain if you were desperately finding a source of string to use. Or, you do feel pain, but it was not enough to stop you from wreaking havoc upon yourself to save someone you cared deeply about. You may have weighed the consequences; between losing someone forever and being in treatable pain, you choose the pain.  

But could it be treatable? To chant the wrong spell on a string that has already been used, plus contrasting the purpose with its color—the string will convulse around you because it was not being used according to its purpose.

Adding that onto all the sewed strings already on your arm... painful. He could almost shudder at the amount of magic your strings will suck out of you. Even if you manage to save Jisung, you would be dead by then through blood loss and a lack of blood flow. 

All of that for one boy. Soulmates or not, was Jisung worth it all? Was a human boy worth the magic inherited through your blood? 

"Your strings have sunken into your skin, my child. Your body is bleeding all over, and it seemed to have corrupted your common sense," he pointed out the obvious. "You will kill yourself before you can save him. If you use up the strings now, you won't be able to fight me anymore, and it would also be much easier for me to kill him if he is without your protection." 

You paused your movement, the chanting falling off your tongue. You forced yourself to clear your mind so you could think, your clueless eyes gazing forward without a cloud of feelings.

Gears and logic turned in your head, calculating and analyzing, and suddenly, your shoulders collapsed with your weight. Your torso fell forward, and your mouth hung open in a defeated gasp. 

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. This would be much worse than last time when you saved Jisung from the car crash. Only one wrong string was spaced out on one arm at that time. This time, you've got a variety of colors tightly packed across both, and you are already bleeding from them.

Exhausting yourself to heal him would result in utter failure. But you still had to help him somehow. You still had to heal Jisung somehow. You had to keep him alive somehow. You just needed one more string. You needed to deal the final blow.  

This was the legacy your family left you. 

Bringing your hand up to Jisung's cheeks, you forced a small smile onto your face. “Hang on here, okay?” you told him, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ll come back and fix you right up. Just hang on for a moment.” 

You could taste metal mixed with dusty bitterness and salty tears in your mouth. There was nothing you wanted more than to take a hot bath.

As you stood up with your back facing the councilman, you fantasized about sinking into a pool of warm water and relaxing into a deep slumber. You fantasized about the life you could have had, leaned into the vengeance and the anger you have accumulated throughout the years, leaned into the pain and the fear you had felt for your friends who had been alone when they met the councilman. 

Your strings glowed in their respective color, zapping a lightning bolt up to your skin and causing a scorching heat in your bloodstream. Your blood had nowhere to run but to be let out through the pores of your skin and used for your revenge plot. Everywhere in your body was dead-end. You could not begin to explain how relieved you were to feel anything at all. It was precisely that kind of energy you needed to cast a spell as strong as the one you were about to do. 

You could barely remember it. Your knowledge came from a few years ago when you crept back into your abandoned home after sneaking into the city to visit your uncle. 

You have done that in hopes of being able to research spells that could wake him up, and you had come across it hidden in a grimoire of dark magic spells, which you learned when you were young were off-limits.

Those spells only existed to test the potentials of spell casters, not to be used by them. It was at the top of the bookshelves in your father’s office; it seemed like he did try to hide it from your younger self, but you were much older now, and he never got the chance to find a better hiding spot. 

The councilman sighed in exhaustion. He did not anticipate this level of exertion. “I am glad to see you standing.” 

You turned around; your expression was suspicious and unenthusiastic. There was only one thing you must do: break the first physical rule of a spell-caster. You were not necessarily confident in your ability to accomplish the task. Still, it was either this way or the highway, given that this way wasn’t equivalent to the highway already.  

When you were within arm’s length of the councilman, you lunged forward and quickly stumbled when your knees gave away. He rolled his eyes at your futile attempt and grabbed you by your hair, yanking you up from the mid-fall so he could sneer down at you in contempt for wasting his time. “If only I had more time training your combat skills.” 

You laughed. “That was a bluff.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah.”  

You pulled your hand away from your back and gripped the glass shard tightly. Without a second thought, you punctured the shard into his abdomen, forcing him to release you. You dropped the shard onto the ground, which was where you found it in the first place when you knelt near Jisung.  

There must have been broken glass around the area you never knew of. Ever since you found a place to stay, you rarely got to roam around this place and people-watch anymore. Jisung must have hidden the glass shard under himself in preparation for attacking. Still, since he never got the chance to, he secretly gave it to you. 

“That was not clever, child.” 

“I don’t care.” You put your hands together and channeled the remaining power from the strings in your arms. You caught a moment of realization in his eyes, which screamed for you to pause, but you discarded him like he did to you. “Vapius Mor Molaedo!” 

You chanted the spell through gritted teeth, clutching through the razor-like pain when your strings massively tightened around your skin, causing redness to squirt through the air. The blood didn’t fall to the ground, however. Your strings caught each droplet with their magic and linked it toward where your hand was, adding more fuel to the death spell you had just chanted. 

A heated explosion blasted across your palm, burning your skin and blinding your eyes. Surely, people walking near the area would be able to hear it. It was loud enough to echo and travel through the atmosphere. Dust erupted from the impact, and you closed your eyes instinctively, hiding your face in your arms until all quieted down.  

You let your arms drop to your side in exhaustion, and you tumbled to the ground in pain. You moaned and withered and squirmed against yourself, your limbs flailing about in the air in seconds before constricting back to your chest.

The unlikeable pattern of your movement directly results from how immensely sharp your body ached. You cried out loud for once, the frustration and fear you felt finally being released. 

Your head arched amidst your outburst, your eyes supposedly gazing at the fallen body of the councilman, but instead, you were met with his soulless eyes. Widening in fear, you gasped and scrambled to your knees, only to fall back on your hips to the ground. Your breath was jagged and uneven, and you found yourself crawling backward to avoid the horrendous picture you saw in front of you.  

You have beheaded the councilman.  

You did that, you thought. You killed him.

An acid rush engulfed your lungs, running up your throat, and you immediately turned to the side, your mouth agape with a hellish urge to puke at what you had done. But your throat was afraid that if you did vomit, the content would burn and scar your insides for life. Trembling eyes coward away from your blood-stained hands. The blood of, perhaps, not the innocent, but still of blood.  

A justified murder is still murder, nonetheless. The intention does not take away the severity and consequence of the action. Vigilantism does not belong to a broken teenager with a subconscious plot for revenge.

Trauma does not flee because the world is just; it will learn its victims and mold itself into the shape of biology and law just to feed off its host. 

And we shall suffer from what is fair. We all suffer from what is unjustifiably fair. 

You wanted to cry. You were already weeping in disgust and, minutes ago, in patheticness. But the urge to cry was not in the form of tears but clenched fists, nails digging into dirty and skin scratched with redness.

You were enraged and delirious. You were furious that this was the legacy your family left you: to make no choices and to suffer from what you desired. 

There was one other thing.  

Not allowing yourself more time to pull it all together, you steadied your breath as best as you could before quickly standing up straight and running back to where Jisung was. 

“Jisung! Jisung! Oh no, don’t sleep-wake up!” You shook him as soon as you knelt beside him, holding his body up and placing him on your lap. 

He opened his eyes weakly. It took him time to adjust to the view, and he barely gave you a smile when he saw you. He heard the explosions loud and clear; it would have been weird for him not to, considering the degree of it.

The ringing in his head worsened after suffering the shock wave it released. As it was strong enough to decapitate the councilman’s head, Jisung may have barely scraped past the pressure.  

Glancing up at you, a noise came from the back of his throat when he saw tears streaming down your face. He nudged his head against your side, trying to comfort you as much as his body allowed him to. 

“Hey,” you laughed, wiping your hand before touching his face momentarily. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but don’t worry. I’m going to fix you up, okay? You wait.” 

Jisung wanted to protest. You were already bleeding all over. He wasn't sure how you would go about helping him at all other than further harming yourself. Nonetheless, he wanted the pain in his body to go. Therefore, he chose to wait. 

You closed your eyes in thoughts then, thinking of what you could do. 

Considering the severity of his injuries and your lack of energy, you could not heal him fully. But, perhaps Jisung didn’t need a full recovery rather than to hold on for another while until the law enforcement arrived, which you were hoping they would.

You looked off to the side at the dead body and flinched away. You have to be gone before anybody can see you. But you were unsure how much magic he needed to hold on. Or he could already be taking his last few breaths. You had no idea. 

You ran the risk of messing up and miscalculating. It may also only be one to two patrol police officers that came by. Then, there would be more waiting for an ambulance to arrive.

Curating the speed of your heartbeat by steadying your breathing now that the aftermath of the fight was beginning to wane, you sorrowfully looked down at Jisung.

You caressed his hair, forcing your cheeks into a visible smile upon his resting state. He was still bleeding, or perhaps he was close to running out of blood to pour. You knew his lips were turning dry and white, which was not a good sign.

A clench of the heart was nothing short of an impactful memory. It was just as painful as the physical injuries you sustained during this altercation. You did this to him. You were partially the reason behind such suffering he was much willing to endure. This may not even be the tip of the iceberg; you knew there was more than one councilman behind the downfall of your family.  

One came after you and failed. The rest would follow suit with drastically different strategies. What then? If Jisung doesn’t die today, he will be the target of another. Eventually, so would your friends. Sweet Felix and his gullible nature; Hyunjin and his blind protectiveness; Seungmin and his envious maturity—children under the hands of unmerciful adults who would push and shove to get what they want. 

If there was anything you should do, it should be to destroy any connection anybody has to you and subsequently distance yourself from the human world. Your last and most logical resort was returning to where you came from. 

The breath you forced yourself to hold in finally got out when you came to that terrifying conclusion. The sheer amount of misery boiling inside your chest from knowing that everything you did was for nothing pushed a temporary sob out of you—you felt useless, but more importantly, it was regret and delusionality that bit at your flesh. 

This should have never happened. If you could return in time, you would have never offered to help him jump through the school gate. You would have left him be. If a God could hear you, may they heed your words. You would have left him be. 

“It’s okay,” you muttered to Jisung as you nodded in agreement before grabbing his hand. “It’s going to be fine.”  

You gasped when Jisung suddenly cried out, his voice raspy. You thought something inside him spiked; perhaps the glass shard lodged inside him moved because you were uncontrollably shifting about.

However, you knew he put two and two together when he snatched his hand from you and began protecting it as if his life depended on it. He realized that you were planning to cut the soulmate string. 

He looked frightened. He looked more terrified than when he would die at the hands of a man he had never met before. The redness and the veins popping at his neck and arm showed how much he strived to protest your solution. 

It wasn’t only about the fact that you two would stop being soulmates anymore. That part wasn’t even in the premises of his fear. It should never have been about his place as your soulmate. It was about you ceasing to exist from his memory once the string is snapped. It was about him losing the constant of watching you grow in his mind. He was going to lose the past, the current, and the future of you. 

You would cease to exist in his world. Everything would be back as before, but it would be different. He wouldn’t know why, but it simply cannot be the same.  

"Mmm!” he rasped out with grit, uncontrollably gasping for a release of pain when he felt the piercing through his chest. His eyes rolled up as he pursed his lips tight to hold the feeling. “No!” 

You closed your eyes to be blind to his struggle. It made it easier to ignore his desperate wishes. Your hands clumsily navigated to his chest, pulling apart his intertwined hands. Apologizes left the aggression of your gentle hands. This lover’s quarrel was making you short of breath.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pronounce any words. There were only actions, and it was speaking more volumes than ever.  

“Stop! No! Stop, ple-please!“ His words were short, quick, jagged, and ran through between coughs and inhales, but his intentions were clear. He cannot let go. He knew love was about letting go, but he could not see the sense in this. He cannot accept this.  

Jisung didn’t want to forget you. Jisung would rather die as your soulmate than live not having known you. At least that way, he left belonging to somebody, and the somebody wasn’t just anybody but you, the person he fell so deeply in love with. 

He just got you back. There were so many things he still wanted to do. He wanted to do everything and nothing with you; to sit around in his room and look out at the sky, chat quietly at night, and giggle when his dad tells you both to shut up.

He hasn’t done enough yet; he hasn’t kissed you, touched you, and definitely hasn’t loved you to the amount he was satisfied with yet. It could not be over before it even began. 

His arms gave away with weakness after struggling for longer than his body initially allowed him to, betraying him. He ached—everything about him hurt. Everything about him was collapsing into a forced undoing. His body, his skin, his body, his mind, his heart, you.

He could not struggle anymore. Any last strength in him went to ugly cries, the tears choking out through pathetic sobs as he held onto your hand as a last, meek attempt to get you to change your mind. 

Jisung’s cries were so loud and gut-wrenching that your hands trembled while trying to find your soulmate string. Part of you wished he fought more, but you did not dare to blame him when he stopped. You put him through all this wreckage. He deserved the breather if he wanted one, while you deserved to drown in guilt as he relentlessly wept beneath you. 

But the string took a lot of work to find. It was hard to find when you didn’t want to find it. You clawed at your pinky finger and then at his, and you couldn’t find it. Before your heart could be at peace with the idea of losing everything, it would not show itself to you, forcing you to use the resources you have—your own strings. 

“Fuck–fuck! Damn it!” you choked out the yells, your fists reaching up to knock on your head. Jisung was looking weaker by the second, urging you to get a move on. 

You ran your tentative hands over your bloodied arms, your lips pursing to hold back the sobs as you looked around at nothing. Your skin felt tight, strangled, like blades lodged between your flesh. It would be painful to heal Jisung.

At this rate, you would die saving him, and you would die if you did not save him. In front of this double-edged sword, the only privilege given was a choice to make—do you kill only one of you or both of you? 

“Okay…” You told yourself to get over it, and you did. 

Placing your hands over his face, you smiled down at Jisung. He was staring back at you. Maybe he was just looking in hopes that he wouldn’t forget, hoping he could break all odds of the universe and remember you somehow. His eyes hazed out when you leaned down to douse his face with feather-like kisses. He held your hand, feeling the faintest smile overcoming him.

He thought this would be the best way to go if you had no plans to save him. 

“I’m not breaking the string, okay? I’m going to heal you,” you hummed against his assumption and removed your hand from his face. You moved it down to his abdomen in preparation.

After you chanted, you could feel the magic in your hands vibrating. Immense power was released, and more importantly, your strings were angry. They clenched around your skin, slicing through your tissues and causing your injuries to squirt blood.

You doubled over at the pain but kept your hands flat against Jisung’s body, waiting and waiting for the pain to fade as an indication that the healing was done. You kept your body lurched forward just in case of fainting; if you did faint, your hands would still be on him, hopefully healing even beyond your passing.

Your eyes began to see white when the ringing in your ears and the squeezing of strings around your arms stopped abruptly. 

Jisung felt blood rush into his head again. His eyesight was unburied by fog, and his breathing returned naturally to him once more. You healed him—oh lord, you healed him!

Sitting up, he was prepared to lung himself at you when, with a plop, you dropped forward onto his lap. His gaze shifted immediately when he saw the dark red color that adorned your arms. He was no expert, but they looked like fresh blood. 

“[Name]…?” You did not respond. 

“[Name]?” His voice quickened in its pitch. He jerked up, putting his hands on your shoulders, and pulled you to his chest. 

Your eyes were shut, and you felt lifeless, easy to throw around. Jisung touched his hand to your arm and flinched at the cutting sensation. Blood seeped through the cushion of his index finger, paired with a feverous heat he felt upon coming in contact with the strings on your arms. He looked at his hand and down at you, at your arms that had fallen to your side, and sighed shakily.

If your strings were submerged into your skin with such sharpness and heat, they would eventually kill you. He has to do something.

Before Jisung knew it, he threw himself into a spiral loop similar to yours a minute ago. 

Should he call the police? How long would it typically take an ambulance to arrive? What if you die between now and the help arriving? He should call for help anyway! It would be better than nothing, wouldn’t it? 

Jisung hoisted you onto his back but stumbled when he lost balance and dropped you on the floor. He cut his skin when he haphazardly reached for your arms to hold you, causing him to wince. Ignoring the pain, he reached for you again and attempted to throw you over his shoulder so he could run to somewhere with lights, but he was weak against your dead weight. He already knew that.

Dragging at you repeatedly was a delusional act he could not afford to give up on.

“[Name], come on!” 

As he pulled your lifeless body up, wanting to drag you to a place where help would be available, he briefly caught the dead body lying a few feet away. Shocked, he lost his footing with a yell and fell hips first onto the ground.

You fell against him, and he immediately tugged at your figure, pulling you close. Jisung unknowingly wiped his cheeks of soft tears as he watched the options narrow down one by one. He was racing the clock and losing.

The dead body and the decapitated head were an issue. Your injuries, paired with the gruesome scene, were a connection effortless to make. Jisung didn’t know what would happen to you if you got charged with murder. You weren’t legally an adult yet, so your sentencing should be light, but that only applied to people like himself, not people like you. Especially not when you murdered a high-level authoritative figure. He could be sending you straight to jail by calling the police. 

“But–ah, shit,” he croaked and looked down at you. He caressed your face and begged, “Damn it, [Name]. Wake up, please! Please!”

He sat there and cried. He remembered tears rolling like this when he was younger. Back then, he had a pair of scraped knees because he ran too fast down the stairs at the park. Fat, sympathy-inducing tears fell down his cheeks with no one around.

Jisung looked around him to soak in the vacant area, and he could not stop crying for help, for his friend, for you. He couldn’t call the police. He couldn’t trust the ambulance. He couldn’t reach his friend for help fast enough. He couldn’t scream for anybody’s help. He couldn’t even rely on himself to get you to safety. 

There was one last resort. Something he desperately didn’t want to think about.

The soulmate string.

Jisung hiccuped between sobs. Maybe he should end it here with you. Perhaps he should just kill himself and die on the ground, holding onto you. 

He slowly scooted to the wall of the bridge and leaned against it. He hugged you tightly, the skin that went over the string surrounding your arms bleeding with every deep cut he pressed into himself. It was a form of self-afflicted punishment for being useless, helpless, and outright terrible.

This was all, still, his fault. If only he knew how to fly or was smarter and stronger, then he wouldn’t be debating if he should save you or kill himself.

He found himself laughing after a while. This must be how you felt just now, except unlike him, you wouldn’t struggle against his decision. You were breathing lightly on his chest, your life being drained away slowly. You would do what he chooses to do, unlike him. 

“Okay,” he told himself, the same way you told yourself. 

This—saving you—was the one thing he could do for you. This was the only thing he could do for you. Not just the breakage of the red string of fate but also eating dinner with you at the convenience store, inviting you over to his home, introducing you to all of his friends, sharing your phone numbers, feeding the messenger bird you sent him, holding your hand, holding you close, bleeding and cutting his flesh, staying with you despite everything, and choosing you over anything. 

He will choose you over anything. Even if you two are not soulmates anymore, even if he suffers through the process, even if you forget his name, face, voice, and warmth. 

Putting you on the floor gently, Jisung leaned close and pressed your forehead to his. He nudged the tip of your nose against his, his tears mixing in and rolling down to your lips where you could taste the saltiness if you were conscious. He timidly pressed his lips against yours, then pulled away to pepper kisses over your face. You would be okay, he thought, and it soothed him.

He slowly reached for your hand and fumbled for your pinky finger. 

“I love you so much. You will not remember,” he whispered. “I never want any other soulmate but you.”

Jisung intertwined his fingers with yours. He couldn’t feel it, but the magic flowed directly from his veins to your body, seeping through your skin and finding the source of your discomfort. A bright white light surrounded him. It felt graceful, warm with a tint of coolness, like clean river water flowing over him.

The magic was great, but the execution was not. As the healing process began, the blade-like strings strung between your flesh started to pull away at the same time as your consciousness returned.

You screamed in pain, your body jerking about as your hands scratched at your arms, hoping to stop the tearing. Tears welled in your eyes and wasted no time falling. Jisung was thrown into a fit of panic once again.

He pressed his hands against your body, keeping you down and apologizing repeatedly for something he had no control over. It felt like he was gutting you alive, and he hated it. He wanted to die. You continued to scream and cry and squirm under him, and he just—sigh. God, he wanted to die. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered near your head, feeling snot run down his nose. It was impossible not to cry with you. “Please just endure it. Please! I’m sorry, but please!”

He could see your wound heal as your strings detached from your skin one by one, slowly fading into nothingness. The blood stopped pouring out of you eventually, leaving only what previously stained you. Your screaming gradually stopped once all the strings were pulled out of your flesh, and Jisung shakily let his forehead rest against yours. 

Your chest heaved more visibly to showcase your breathing. He pressed his hand to your heart, feeling for its pace. One, two, one, two, one, two. He smiled, and he blacked out.

Felix was the first person you saw when you woke up. After noticing your gentle stirs, he immediately dropped his phone on the chair and rushed to your side, almost crashing into you.

He held himself back by putting his weight on the side of the bed where the railings were put up, and he beamed down at you when you opened your eyes to look at him. 

Your eyes traveled to Felix soon. His body bounced with faint excitement, but his tearful eyes told a traumatic story you could hear through your assumptions. He looked as gentle and bright as ever, symbolizing peace in everyday life.

It made you relax easier into your pillow, and you felt free to shut your eyes again, knowing it had all been done. Your friends got out. They were safe now. 

“Hey, Felix,” you greeted tiredly. 

“[Name]!” He carefully took your hand, eyes glimmering with tears. “Oh! I’m so glad you woke up!”

“Have you been waiting here?” You raised a brow weakly after opening your eyes a fraction just to smile at him. 

Felix giggled, nodding his head eagerly. His smile had a sunny disposition, as it always did. “Yeah! Seungmin and I have been going in and out of the hospital. I am in charge of looking after you for now!”

“Okay,” you sighed in acknowledgment. Swallowing a dry knot in your throat, you asked, “Did you find me?”

“No, I didn’t,” he replied with a gentle shake of his head. “Someone brought you and Jisung in. Thank god you were still around the area, so you both got taken here.”

“Oh.” Your eyes were squinted after hearing his response, confused. You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, but who… is Jisung?” 

Felix frowned with a step back, and then he laughed awkwardly. “Han Jisung. Our friend–your friend!”

“I–“ You mimicked his frown sympathetically. “I don’t know who that is. Felix, are you messing with me?”

He should be asking you that question. He didn’t think you were messing with him, though. You were not the type to play such jokes on other people, let alone ones where you acted as if you didn’t know who Jisung was. He didn’t recall the doctors saying there was anything urgent about you either.

They couldn’t find any injuries on you, so they opted to do another check-up after you woke. But Felix thought amnesia was out of the picture, at least. His best speculation now was that something happened after he got teleported away. He wondered if he should ask.

“Are your fingers okay?” 

He snapped his attention back to you and looked down at the cast the doctor fitted for him. He touched it carefully and nodded, watching your smile dim upon seeing his injury.

You were blaming yourself for what happened, he could tell, and he did not want that. He didn’t blame you for anything. He never could. If anything, he has only been afraid for you after the portal closed in his face. He trusted you. He trusted you so much that he knew you would never let anything happen to Jisung, even if it meant putting your life on the line, and perhaps you did. He just didn’t know of it.

His biggest concern was still how you forgot about Jisung. Could it be that someone put a spell on you? Were you meant to forget only Jisung or everyone else? Would you forget him?

Staring at your unknowing smile, the hidden tears behind Felix’s eyes finally dropped. You stirred in shock, sitting up quickly to comfort him. 

“I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to cry–I really don’t!” he croaked out, rubbing his eyes harshly before he looked at you. “I was just–uhm. Everything had been so sudden, I wasn’t prepared for it!”

Everything in his life has changed since he met you in every way possible. 

Magic has always been a faraway dream. A group of powered people living in their own part of a city—he always wondered what your childhood world looked like.

Did flowers bloom all seasons because of Earth magic? Did railroads carry over to your side of the city when your kind could teleport anywhere you wanted? Has the ability to communicate with animals changed anyone's lifestyle? 

Then there were you and your past. Your troubling and problematic past were things Felix’s tender mind never thought about. He thought there would be no greed for more if everyone had power. But cruelty never ceases to exist. On a simple morning, three of his friends were hospitalized, all of you were threatened, and you forgot your soulmate.

His faraway dream was a childish delusion uncovered by cruelty and injustice. He could no longer call it a dream, but neither would he call it a nightmare, per se. Because you spent all your effort to make everything fruitful and great, you showed him the beauty of what magic could do to people and the world.

One part of every spiraling darkness stands a shining beacon, where people like you fight to keep the innocence intact. 

Everything changed. 

“I wish I could have done something to help,” he said. 

You furrowed your brows in remorse. With all the strength you could muster, you squeezed his good hand so hard that he slightly pulled back with a pained yelp. You glared at him then, scolding him with the warm gleam in your tired eyes, and shook your head.

“The best thing you can do is not to put yourself in danger,” you said, and your lips arched downward when he dejectedly shrunk his shoulders, obviously dissatisfied. “You’re so great, Felix. You’ve been such a kind friend, and I love the brownies you secretly baked me.”

He kept in touch with you after you and Jisung distanced. Losing a friend was not part of his vocabulary; he also needed to support Jisung. Those days have been stressful for him. Hearing that you enjoyed his effort to keep your friendship made him calm. 

“I can bake you more,” he said, his voice gentle with a croak. He leaned his head down to yours, bumping his forehead against your head. “Let’s never fight again.”

You giggled lowly in agreement before stringing onto him a sudden question, firmness swimming back onto your face. “Is Hyunjin okay?” 

Felix sucked in a deep breath, concern crossing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “He suffered no internal injuries. He got a terrible concussion, though. But overall, the doctors said he will be fine as long as he rests.”

You nodded acknowledgment. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah,” he beamed, but his mood quickly dampened into something more serious. “Oh! But let’s call a doctor over to check on you first!”

Despite feeling hurried, you sat on the bed and waited patiently with Felix after he pressed a button to call a doctor into the room. You took the time to figure out everything that happened and what you should do after those events.

Checking on your friends first was a must, so the next people you must find were Hyunjin and Seungmin. If you could, you would fill them in on what happened, which was that you killed a councilman, and the possible repercussions of it to see what they think you should do. After that, you must find your belongings and call Minho for help. 

The plan solidified in your head, and you wasted no time putting it into action. As soon as the doctor announced that you were all good to go, you had Felix bring you to see Hyunjin.

The boy, with confusing uncertainty, mentioned that Hyunjin might be catching on some sleep. You thought about it for about five seconds before deciding to shake him awake if he was. You needed to make sure he felt fine. 

Seungmin was not in Hyunjin’s room when you two arrived, which Felix assumed was because Hyunjin was awake and well. He let his jaw drop, feeling slightly annoyed that while sitting stone-still in your room, waiting for you to wake up, Seungmin was taking a short lunch break to the hospital cafeteria. Letting your arm slip away from his, Felix closed the door and leaned against it while you approached the bed.

He pulled a face when Hyunjin met eyes with you after putting his phone on his lap. You watched his brows knit at the center, his lips arched downward, and your legs immediately paused. Why did you expect anything else from him? He was never going to give you a warm, welcoming hug. Scoffing, you resumed walking and stood where your knees hit the edge of the hospital bed. 

“I came here to see how you are,” you said.

Hyunjin sniffed. He gave you a full scan before clicking his tongue. “You look better than me. That’s for sure.”

“Well, yeah? I–“ You paused. 

Reaching for your pockets for your card of strings, you found nothing in there. It could be that your belongings were stored somewhere else because you were admitted to the hospital for treatment, though. But you were sure! You were sure your arms were damaged beyond repair during your encounter with the councilman.

Even if he didn’t fight you, the spell you used to kill him would have caused the strings to sink into your arms and leave terrible scars behind. You glanced down at your skin and saw nothing. You were fine. You just fainted and slept for a while. 

Things were not adding up. 

“[Name]? Are you feeling okay?” Hyunjin asked when you pressed a palm to your narrowed eyes. He leaned his torso over to you, a gentle hand hovering over your arm and not quite touching it. “I was just joking.” 

“I–“ you shook off the thoughts and looked at Hyunjin–“I’m fine. How are you? You haven’t answered me.”

He leaned into the pillows behind him with a soft pout before he shrugged. “I’m mostly okay. I’ve never had something this heavy drop on me before.” 

“You and me both.” You breathed out an airy laugh, twiddling with your thumbs. You tried to push the awkward knot in your throat out of your mouth to say something good, but all you could manage was an apology. “I’m sorry about what happened.” 

He stayed silent for a while, his eyes softening only because you weren’t looking at him directly. 

But he was never mad at you.

You chose none of this. He could never be mad at you about this. If he had been the one to be taken away, he would have risked his life to keep you here so you would never have to go back to your home ever again. Even after he was treated and woke up in a faint haze, most of his thoughts were dedicated to worrying about you.

He was never mad at you. He would never chase you out of his life. He helped you build a better memory here. That effort could not go to waste so easily.

Hyunjin pursed his lips and huffed. “I suppose I can forgive you,” he muttered, turning his hand so he could squeeze yours. He smiled. “Did you save the day? Are you still leaving us?”

“I…” You sighed. Things were made complicated by your recent revelation. There was a lot more happening under your nose, you believed. Things that just slipped your mind. “Can we bring Seungmin over before we talk about everything?” 

“Oh, sure.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “Jisung came by just then to talk to him. I’m sure they’re just down the hall.” 

“Hyunjin!” 

Felix watched helplessly as you thanked Hyunjin and moved toward the door. It wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together. He did not know exactly what happened that led you to forget who Jisung was, but he knew that this was not the state Jisung should greet you in!

You having no memories of Jisung would give him a heart attack! Despite protesting in his head, he moved out of the way to let you leave when you approached. Feeling his heart beating out of his chest, the sudden peek of your head returning to the room made him sigh of relief.

“Felix, can I ask for you a favor?” you asked with your palms pressed together into a pleading motion. “Please help me get my stuff from… wherever they are. I really need my phone!” With that, you were gone in a flash. 

You peeked your head down the hall and frowned when you saw nobody familiar, but you doubted he could be far if he were merely talking to someone. Picking a random direction with a mumbled nursery rhyme, you spun on your heels and jogged to the right side of the hallway. Shuffling through nurses and patients, it took you more than just down the hall to find Seungmin sitting on a bench outside a random room. Next to him was a boy you’ve never met before.

“Seungmin!”

Jisung froze when he realized he had responded instinctively to your voice. As you jogged closer to where he sat, he wanted to shrink into the air and evaporate. He wanted to find an escape and leave quickly so he wouldn’t have to confront you. It was great to know that you were up and running, but that was to the extent he wanted to know about.

You could forget him on paper and in theory. He didn’t have to hear about you asking him for his name and who he was. But he couldn’t move. There was an affectionate weight on his legs that refused his decision to walk away from you, and it would stay there forever. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you huffed after coming to a stop. Glancing off to Jisung, you briefly noticed his bloodshot eyes, and then you panicked and turned back to Seungmin.

The grimace on your face was almost hilarious to him, and your whispers were even funnier. You pointed at the room window subtly. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. Did something happen to his family?”

Seungmin stared at you, both in disbelief and in shock. He couldn’t believe it, but magic truly surprised him more and more with how outrageous its audacity to interfere with human lives was. Jisung filled him in on everything that happened.

He already knew some parts of it, such as the rules of the soulmate string, but he never thought it was possible until now when neither you nor Jisung acknowledged each other. But how could that be possible? How could Jisung get wholly erased from your memory when so many things about you have come to be directly led back to him? The cognitive conflict must be immeasurable.

“No, this–uhm.” Seungmin cleared his throat and gestured at Jisung. He stopped to look at his friend for permission, but Jisung gave him none, so he scrapped the notion of introducing you to each other. Instead, he rubbed his thighs and smiled faintly at you. “You were looking for me?”

You hummed with a nod. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

“Oh, but I–“

“Go,” Jisung whispered with a shove of his elbow. “Take care of them.”

“Jisung…”

“Please?”

Seungmin sighed defeatedly. Jisung was right. Sitting around and discussing what to do about losing your memories of him would bring them nowhere far. If anything, the person they should consult regarding this issue should be you. He could figure out a way to discreetly ask you about it, but from the little information they have regarding breaking a soulmate string, it seemed that amnesia would be permanent.

More importantly, Jisung needed time to deal with this loss—the loss of you and, by extension, the loss of himself. 

You watched intensely as the two exchanged a farewell embrace, and you had to shake yourself out of paying so much attention to a stranger’s face.

Jisung looked lovely, but more than that, there was a magnetic tug at your muscles whenever you looked at him. It was an unexplainable pull, a gravitational pull seemingly moving your body toward him. Something akin to what you believed seeing your soulmate would feel like.

You laughed to yourself. If you were going to find your soulmate, it wouldn’t be in random places like a hospital or a pedestrian road before a high school. 

Seungmin watched Jisung leave before he turned to you. You teared up When you met eyes in a quiet corner of your own world. You fanned your face in hopes of stopping yourself from crying, but the more you thought about why you were feeling the urge to do so in the first place, the more your eyes urged you to open the floodgates.

Seungmin picked under his nails, a lingering pain in his chest from knowing what happened after you sent him away, and he took a step forward to trap you in a tight embrace.

“Seungmin, I killed someone,” you said, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“Okay,” he replied, holding a warm hand to your neck. “Don’t think about it if you don’t want to. We can always talk about it later.”

You sniffed, nodding into his shoulder. You didn’t think you could delay talking about what happened for however long you wanted, but there should be a grace period between now and when the council found that one of their members had been killed.

Although, you did want to ask about your state when you were admitted to the hospital. It still didn’t make sense to you that you were left unscathed. But, between now and then, you wanted to heed Seungmin’s advice and not think about anything. Drowning in the safety net of your best friend’s arms was all you wanted to do. 

“[Name]! [Name]!”

Seungmin glared off at the other end of the hallway as he pulled away from you. Felix was running toward you both, his sneakers creating an even louder commotion than his voice. He was forced to a begrudging stop when a nurse stopped him with a scold. When you squinted, you could see him gripping your phone.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry. I didn’t–I didn’t mean to take the call for you, but your phone was buzzing nonstop!” Felix said between huffs of breaths as he handed you the phone. It was still on call. “But you’ve got great news! Your uncle is awake!”

You pressed the phone to your ear.

“Your friend already broke the news to you, so I’m kind of useless here.” 

“Good to hear from you too, Minho,” you said softly.

“Oh, you’ll be even happier to hear from this guy.” There was shuffling on the other end of the phone. A static noise traveled when someone picked it up again, and the voice that sounded was one that surprisingly hadn’t changed much.

“Hey, kiddo,” Chan greeted quietly as if testing the waters. 

“Uncle Chan…” you muttered, surprised and relieved, but then a sudden dread fell over you.

It has taken ages to break the curse that kept Chan in a coma. The only known way to wake him was by breaking the soulmate string, which Minho once said he would do. But Minho sounded cheery just then, meaning he hadn’t done anything as drastic as that, which would mean the curse broke through other means. You thought you knew how.

“Oh, I think I know why you woke up.”

“You do? I just thought it was a miracle.”

“It’s not–it’s… umm.” You pressed a hand to the speaker and looked urgently at your friends, who seemed equally clueless. “Uncle, there’s a lot we need to catch up on.” 

As you unconsciously moved away to continue the conversation, hashing out plans to return to meet him, Felix elbowed Seungmin to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Felix started, “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think [Name] doesn’t remember Jisung.”

Seungmin puffed out his cheeks and sighed. “Yeah… we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Wait, wait, wait–“ Hyunjin waved his hands before his face–“wait!”

He had been a little concerned when you did not return with anybody to his room, but the solemn expression on Jisung's face and the somewhat heartbroken frown on Felix's mouth made him shut his mouth.

Seungmin had trailed behind the two, watching Felix keep his hand over Jisung's as they approached the single chair in the room. He had leaned against the shut door to try and prevent anyone from disrupting the conversation they were about to have: Jisung breaking his soulmate tie with you. 

Hyunjin was having a more challenging time catching up than Felix, mainly because he never indulged in anything about soulmates. Even after learning from one of Felix's many romantic rambles that soulmates exist, he never thinks about it again. He was never a romantic at heart, he supposed.

But questioning why Jisung was so heartbroken over the fact that you and he were no longer linked by fate was not something he did as he got filled in on what happened. He was more worried about the state of Jisung's and your well-being after enduring the physical altercation.

“You got stabbed?” 

“No, I got blown away, and I landed on glass. It–well, sure, I got stabbed,” Jisung said after rolling his eyes skyward to think. He could barely remember anything; his mind must have blanked it out to protect his feelings. 

“And [Name] almost died,” Hyunjin added for clarification. “Healing you?”

Jisung nodded, his lips pursing remorsefully. “Yes.”

Leaning against his pillow, Hyunjin exhaled slowly and focused his eyes on a single spot on the wall across him.

That councilman was one hell of a maniac—collapsing a whole convenience store on his head, blowing Jisung and you away with explosive magic, indirectly impaling Jisung and causing you to exert yourself so much that you almost died in Jisung’s arms.

He held back his thoughts while listening to the story, but he felt no guilt now celebrating the fact that you decapitated the councilman. He would give you a thumbs up and buy you a drink when he sees you again. 

Turning his head to look at Jisung, whose eyes focused more on his fiddling fingers than anything else, Hyunjin softened.

Those hands that erased himself from your memories must not have been fond to look at or own, but they were also the last of what touched you, so Jisung couldn't tear his eyes away from them either. His heart was yearning for pain, for the pain that was caused when he decided to cut the soul tie off because, at least back then, you were still in his arms, and you still remembered him. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Standing behind the defeated boy, Seungmin and Felix flashed him an exasperated stare as if he couldn't already tell by Jisung's hunchback and slugging around! Hyunjin shook his shoulders and returned the same gaze, not allowing mockery to be thrown his way before he could clarify what he realized was a valid question with terrible wording.

"I know you feel bad! That part is obvious! But it's just–" he sighed–"don't you think there is some leeway out of this?"

“Like a way to get [Name] to remember him?” Felix chimed in.

Hyunjin shook his head. “No, more like a silver lining. We are trying to look at this from the bright side.”

Seungmin scoffed, disagreeing. “It’s a bit tone-deaf to ask him to look on the bright side when it’s already happened, don’t you think?”

“It’s better than repeating that his soulmate forgot about him,” Hyunjin retorted before looking at Jisung, who sat stoically on the chair. He could see the faraway stare in Jisung’s eyes.

“Look, I know you can’t hear me right now. I can only hope your heart remembers what I say sometime down the line, but memory erasure aside–[Name] is still alive for a reason.”

The truth was that Jisung made a choice. He made a puke-inducing, heartbreaking choice. Between his bond with you and your existence, he chose you. He didn't pick himself. The soulmate bond would have meant nothing; your memories of him would have meant nothing if you died.

It was a choice only he could make for you, and he made it with your best interest at heart. Your being alive should mean something more than what he did, even if it couldn't now. 

“You can still know them,” Hyunjin said. “They can still fall in love with you.”

Jisung sighed. “Hyunjin, I’m really tired–“

“I’m sure you were too when you had to snap the soul string in half,” he argued. “You fought for them anyway.”

“I still don’t understand how it happened,” Seungmin chimed in at the mention of the soulmate string. “Memories don’t work like that.”

“Is this really the time to question how it works?” Felix asked.

"No, but think about it anyway. Take the car crash that happened, for example. Remember when we first met them, and we decided to hang out after school?" Seungmin said animatedly. He has been thinking about this for too long. He has got to let it out.

"They still remember the incident, but it happened in the first place because they protected Jisung from getting hit by a car. Then we found out they are a magic wielder, right?

"Who did they do that for if Jisung is out of the picture? How did we learn about their identity in that particular alleyway, in that specific situation? Jisung being snipped out of their memory will make their life nonsensical!"

Jisung heaved a sigh. He shrunk into his seat and rubbed his face with his hands. Unconsciously, his hands traveled to his ears, and he muffled everyone else's voices in the room.

He closed his eyes, remembering your face to calm himself. He didn't want to hear about his friends' theories and discrepancies regarding how the universe managed to wipe human memories with a snap of a string. Not only did he want to stop thinking too deeply about it, but he would also hate to be given false hope that you might remember him somehow. 

He saw you about an hour ago. He just saw you about an hour ago. You said nothing to him, talked away from him, and indirectly addressed him through Seungmin. You forgot who he was. There was no last stand of a miracle, a shining beacon of hope, or a benefit of the doubt. There was nothing left for Jisung except the daunting truth that he was gone from your life completely.

Everything he has done or said, every promise you have made to each other, every sense of touch you shared—gone, reduced to emptiness by his hands. 

Jisung loved you from the beginning until the end, and he was the only one who had to put an end to it.

The room went quiet when Jisung began to sob uncontrollably into his hands. The only time they had seen him cry like this was today, at the school’s backyard, when you left him in a frenzy, and he fell face-first against the floor. But somehow, it sounded strikingly different. 

The last one was apologetic, with sadness and longing haphazardly screamed into a bottle about to be lost at sea. The last time Jisung cried like this, he dragged himself through the mud to appeal to a higher power for forgiveness.

This one was different. This one was angry, mad, and screaming at a Godless void where God exists but chooses not to listen. Jisung was giving up this time, and he was so unbelievably angry at the hand he was dealt that he slit his own throat with a hoarse voice and streamy tears. 

Felix had to take a few steps away from Jisung's chair. He watched as Jisung swallowed himself whole, practically scratching his face off, and he could do nothing.

This was not the time for comfort. If anything, Felix had no idea if a soft hand on the shoulder would come across as anything other than pity and a poor attempt to get Jisung to stop screaming down the hospital hall. He walked away and approached Seungmin, reaching for the boy’s hand to hold and letting his tears fall silently as he stared at the floor. 

Jisung was so fond of you, and Felix felt you were the same way. You two were soulmates. He still remembered the joyful laughter that reverberated in his ribs when you told him about it, not just because you proved to him that soulmates are real but because he was grateful his friend found one he would love for the rest of his life.

You were both so fond of each other, and with a simple snap, everything was gone, and Felix vicariously lost his hope in romance. 

Seungmin squeezed Felix's hand, causing him to look up. The grim expression on Seungmin's face made Felix realize one thing: this would take a while. The healing could take a bit, perhaps even forever, because Jisung loved you. 

Jisung loved you, from the beginning until the end, and he would continue with no exception or mistake. If there was no place for him to give you his love now, the least he could do was store them where they belong—in his chest, heart, eyes, tears, hands, touch, and always in him. 

Looking away, Felix met eyes with Hyunjin from his bed. Hyunjin pursed his lips together and gently leaned into the bed for support.

This would take a while.

You startled Chan and Minho when you teleported straight into the hospital room. 

It was, unfortunately, a force of habit. You spent most of your visits to Chan, which wasn’t many, but he didn’t need to know that, in the form of sneaking in and out of the hospital and the city. Being extra cautious that you wouldn’t leave any magical traces behind made most of your visits brief.

Not that there was much for you to do back then anyway; Chan was in a coma, and you were talking to a sleeping log. Supposedly, now that he was awake, you would no longer be in the vulnerable position you once were, and you should be able to walk the city freely. But, again, habitually, you have chosen to do a quick teleportation spell unannounced. 

You raised a brow at how Minho immediately retreated his hand from Chan’s. He jumped to stand away from the edge of the bed, looking nervous before he recognized you. Then he scoffed. You ignored him. “Was I interrupting something?” 

“No.”

“A little bit, yeah.” 

“You didn’t interrupt anything. Don’t listen to him,” Minho reassured with a glare directed at Chan’s boastful smile. He turned to approach you.

Having deduced what happened after receiving information from his parents on the implication of Chan’s awakening, there was much he needed you to fill him in on, but mostly, he wanted to know if you were feeling fine. When he was within reach, he pulled you into an embrace. “How are you doing?” 

You gasped inwardly. You hadn’t anticipated this reaction from Minho, and it took you a moment to feel his solid chest. His arms were grown and confident with strength, unlike Seungmin’s, which were frail and comforting.

With Seungmin, hugging him was like standing on common ground. Hugging Minho was being embraced and shielded by someone who knew more and better than you. They both felt safe, but for once, it was relieving to have an adult around to think for you. 

“I’m fine. My friends are all fine, too,” you replied. 

“Your friends were involved?” 

“They’re all human, right?”

Minho released you to face Chan. “Technically, we all are.”

“You know what I mean,” Chan retorted before fixating his eyes on you. “Were your friends involved in what happened?”

You fiddled with your fingers. You wanted to be able to greet your uncle in a much lighter circumstance, but the timing was unfortunate. “They were,” you said. “But they already know I can use magic! They won’t say anything.”

“It’s more complicated than that. A councilman died–got murdered if we want to be specific.” Minho hummed as he shook his head. “You did it. That was you?”

You shrugged, feeling accused. “Yeah.”

Minho nodded with acknowledgment. There was no other display of emotions. But if he could, he would have been thankful that you killed the old man because that directly woke Chan up. His death broke the coma curse; it was his idiotic mistake for linking it directly to himself and not a vessel.

“This is going to be investigated unless we intervene, and one little slip-up from any of your friends who saw what happened–“

“Nobody saw! I sent them all away to the hospital!” you exclaimed as you waved your hands.

“Hyunjin was injured after a convenience store collapsed on us, so I sent him and everyone to the hospital! Nobody saw anything. Felix didn’t see anything. I told Seungmin I–“ you dropped your voice to a whisper–“killed someone, but he wasn’t there to see it happen.”

Minho nodded. “And Jisung?” 

You look at him incredulously. You didn’t think Minho might have been talking about the same boy you saw at the hospital, but everyone had asked about him.

“Why is everyone asking me about him?” you asked grimly. “I don’t know him.”

“What are you talking about?”

Chan watched as Minho’s face gradually descended into a mixture of confusion and, increasingly so, pitiful despair. He shifted his gaze between you and him, unclear why Minho had such a severe reaction.

Following closely as Minho swiped two fingers across his neck, revealing a burning hieroglyphic mark once concealed, he moved his head about to keep his view from being blocked by Minho’s back after the man grabbed your hand in his. 

“What?” you tried to snatch your hand away, but Minho kept a firm grip. “Minho, I don’t know who Jisung is. I met him for the first time today!”

He should have been more suspicious of what happened since he knew nothing. There were a million possibilities of how the councilman could have died, many of which did not involve you using magic that could hurt you, but also a lot where you would have to. He should have questioned how you could arrive unscathed; there was no injury on your body.

You could have healed yourself, but that potential was eliminated when you told him you didn’t know who Jisung was. The boy you almost fought him for, your soulmate, your lover—gone in a trace.

Chan raised his brows in realization when Minho discreetly pinched your pinky finger. The red string was gone. Your soulmate must have broken it. Judging by the event that preceded it and how Minho reacted to it, your soulmate had broken it unwillingly.

Chan’s shoulders slumped. He knew the implications of severing a soulmate string. But, seeing your clueless face, he was glad that the one suffering from its impact wasn’t you but a boy he’d never met before. 

“Oh, [Name]…” Minho dropped your arm and sat beside Chan on the bed. He chuckled then, recalling the meek-looking boy pushing himself to your defense the first time they met. “Well, I’m not surprised he has the guts to do it.”

“Oh? He’s that kind of boy?” Chan muttered.

“I don’t know. I didn’t meet him for long.” Minho shook his head before turning to smile at Chan. “But I know he overestimates his abilities to stand up for [Name].”

“Or he knows he’s not qualified. He just doesn’t care.” Chan hummed with approval. “I like him either way.”

You crossed your arms at their whispered conversation. You made a quick trip here to catch up with Chan and discuss what to do now that he has woken up. If he and Minho wanted to have alone time together, they should have arranged for you to show up later, and you could have stayed with your friends longer. But, despite your impatience, it was touching to see them happy. 

“You know, I can’t wait to have health insurance again,” you pointed out as a joke. “Not that I cared for it when I did have it.”

Chan laughed as he broke away from Minho, who rolled his eyes at the reminder of all the legal errands he would have to run with Chan after his full recovery.

Scooting back on the bed, Chan beckoned you over to him and opened his arms as an invitation for a hug. You moved without another thought, but your face remained hesitant until you touched him with your hands. He patted your head twice for comfort you wouldn’t know you needed.

“I’m sorry you’ve been alone all these years,” he said.

“I met good people,” you said as you shook your head to dismiss his apology. “I have friends who would fight for me.” 

Even though you haven’t met them for long, the life they have given you thus far has somewhat overshadowed the terrifically lonely experience you’ve suffered.

Time fast-forwarded in the mending of your heart; Hyunjin and his motherly instincts, Felix and his soft-hearted nature, Seungmin and his covert loyalty, and—your hands twitched when Jisung’s face flashed over your eyes, specifically the way he had looked at you when you met him a while ago.

You hummed, wondering how Seungmin had never introduced him to you before, considering he has no other friends.

Or maybe he has. He just never told you. 

“You should bring them over sometimes,” Chan suggested as he pulled away. “It would be nice to give them a proper thanks.”

You grimaced judgementally as you stared at him. You didn’t think it was necessary. Besides, you have talked about Chan to your friends in such an urgent way (for good reasons) that you felt they would be disappointed seeing what Chan was actually like. Feeling subconscious, Chan returned the same expression but with more vigor.

Not even a day had passed since he woke up from a coma. He was still delirious, but he held his mind to greet you anyway, and this was what you give him—teenage attitude. He rolled his eyes into a faint smile after. This was better than a pitch-black doom, at least. 

“What do we do now?” you asked.

“You–“ Minho touched your shoulder–“don’t have to do anything. The legal things are up to him now. You just worry about catching up on your education.”

The thought of school haunted you. It has been years since you last stepped foot in an educational setting to learn something new.

You have been operating on some foundation of an adult—occupying yourself with jobs and earning money to fill your stomach—and you have trauma relating to being forcefully chained down, so you weren’t sure if you could adequately cope with being restricted by another systematic authority. Not to mention, people knew who you were! They knew your face and your family! 

The only way for your school life to be peaceful is—

“I’m not going to school here.”

—to go somewhere where nobody knows you. 

“I thought you might say that,” Minho pointed out as he slumped on the edge of the hospital bed. He shrugged, ready for a bargain. “You can attend the school your friends are attending–yeah, I know what you’re thinking about.” He squinted at you. “But unless you test into their current grade level, you won’t be graduating at the same time as them.”

“I’m being held back?” You would never hear the end of this from Hyunjin. 

“No, you’re starting alarmingly late,” he said. “You can choose. We can give you some time to prepare for the grade assessment, or we can do what I initially planned–“

“I’m not going to school here.”

“I was planning to get you homeschooled.” Minho got up to flick your forehead. “You can work at your or the teacher’s pace–I know someone who could help. That way, school won’t keep you from seeing your friends.”

Chan tilted his head. That sounded like a solid plan he had no part in concocting, but if Minho thought it was a viable idea, he wouldn’t chime in and possibly make things worse. Looking at his soulmate, he gradually relaxed into the bed as he watched you chat with Minho about future plans.

A soft sigh left his chest; he hoped Minho wouldn’t overwork himself to accommodate your needs. You deserved a regular life from now on, but with the staining guilt that he hasn’t been of any help in the past, Minho might overexert himself to make everything perfect from today on. 

“Oh, can I get some strings to teleport back?” 

Minho looked at the empty cardboard in your hand. He shrugged. “Sure, you can buy them at the store like everybody else,” he said. “I know you have money.”

“My family owns these strings,” you sneered, then you pulled back in shock at the realization that the family business was still running. 

“Your family, not you. There’s a pharmacy downstairs. They should sell some,” he retorted with a grin. “Remember, your friends are probably in school right now. Also, don’t spawn in the middle of a hospital!”

Chan laughed when you bluffed a punching motion at Minho, who stood stoically on his spot. When you slammed the door behind you, Minho held back a scoff of disapproval and rolled his eyes. He turned around to give Chan a tight-lipped smile as he stumbled to the bed and, once again, plopped down on the edge. He could sit on it more comfortably now that you were gone, his back arched as he met eyes with Chan.

“You know I almost snapped our string to save you,” Minho mentioned.

Chan raised his brows. “I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“[Name] talked me out of it,” Minho replied softly.

There was a moment of silence. Minho thought about you promising him before that Chan would wake up and when you urged him not to break his soulmate string to save him. He felt he should have been there for you when yours had to meet a tragic fate. He stared at the ceiling light.

For some reason, he wondered how Jisung was holding up. 

Jisung almost kicked the school gate for his frustration, but he was too tired to do so.

This day has been the worst. There could not be even more little tragedies hidden between everything that happened. He thought he had some choice in that. All he needed to do was to stop caring, and he could begin attending school. He was already halfway there, anyway. 

After returning home from the hospital to give his parents a thorough explanation of why he never returned home, he barely dragged himself out the door to go to school again. He kept his hair disheveled, and his breath probably stinks of the traumatic near-death situation.

Standing at the back of the bus line, he rubbed his eyes drowsily and didn't try to open them any bigger than his defeated state. He stood before the closed gate, indicating he was late to school. He stared up at the climbable pattern and sighed. He could not be bothered. He would rather die.

“Hey! Do you need a hand?”

Your voice rang terribly in his ears. He thought he was hallucinating but instinctively turned his head to where your voice came from anyway. You stood a few steps behind him, grimly glancing at his messy uniform. Jisung's heart hammered in his chest, its palpitations so grandiose he could feel his whole body shake.

This felt familiar, hauntingly familiar.

The sun's rays slowly began to drown atop your face, like he remembered. They left spots of faux freckles on your cheeks, brightening the judgemental soul in your eyes, like he remembered. The wind glided across you two, artificially knocking the breath out of Jisung's lungs, like he remembered. 

You were pretty as could be, like he remembered. 

“Oh, Jisung! Seungmin’s friend, who he never told me about,” you exclaimed in recognition, with the last part muttered low for self-satisfaction. Then, you looked behind him at the school gate and frowned. “Are you late?” 

"I–" he looked behind him at the gate, then back at you– "Yeah, I was gonna climb it."

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen a boy do that before,” you huffed out a smile of acknowledgment. Clapping your hands, you offered, “I can help you.” 

He stood baffled, still hung up on what you said because he thought, just for a split second, you may be subconsciously talking about him. Bringing his crooked hand to his face, he waved with a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble! I got you,” you insisted as you walked forward. “Turn around.”

Jisung widened his eyes. You seemed more cheerful than when he first met you. Perhaps it was because your uncle was finally awake. That was good news to him. “It’s fine, really.”

“I am going to hoist you up, and you are going to climb over the fence, okay?” you said, linking and twisting the red string in your hands that you had shoved in your pocket after you bought them at the hospital pharmacy.

Jisung shook his head at your blatant ignorance. You let him go the first time! He had to double back and ask for your help as you left!

This was beginning to turn from feeling nostalgic to uncanny. He would tell you to keep watch of your strength, but he wanted to know if you would throw him way over the fence like last time. He turned around and let you put your hands over his waist, feeling you close to his back. He hovered his hands over yours; he couldn’t hold it, not even for support. 

“On three!” You gave his waist a firmer grip once as a signal to prepare before you moved your legs into a better stance. “One, two, three!”

You moved your arms up while Jisung jumped to aid your action. Jisung groaned when his body lunged forward over the gate, weightless and lacing any clear momentum. He braced himself before falling onto the dusty floor.

It was as he expected. He rolled his eyes once the pain began spreading over his muscles—uncanny but hilarious that you made the same mistake twice. 

Leaning forward, you gave Jisung a concerned scan before shouting, “I’m sorry! I miscalculated!”

“Grossly!” he called back as he stood up and wiped his uniform of its dirt. 

You kept silent as you observed him, your hands gripping the gate poles. When his attention returned to you, you smiled apologetically. He received your smile with a brief glance at the floor, trying to hold back the souring sensation in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you faintly beamed. “Can you tell Seungmin to wait for me after school? I have something important to tell him!”

Jisung raised his brows. He wondered what it was? Seungmin already knew your uncle was awake, which would eliminate that as important news.

Plans for the future? He looked at you, his fingers playing with each other. He wanted to know, too. He wanted to know if you've got a home and someone who could care for you better than he ever could. He wanted to meet your uncle and see the man you've put effort into saving. He wanted to know where you'd be going, even if it didn't concern him anymore. 

There were so many things to know about you. The idea made him remember what Hyunjin said at the hospital—that he could still get to know you and make you fall in love with him.

He didn’t want to hear it back then, but accessing the situation now, it was clear that this was precisely the beginning of when you two first met each other: him being late to school and you helping him over the gate. Maybe everything would be the same. All he had to do was start over.

“Actually,” he started hesitantly, still unsure why he thought to say this. He only knew that he wanted to know and love you still. “We’re planning to go to a cat café later. Do you want to come with me?”

You paused—the cat café! You almost forgot about that. Felix was the one who suggested the place a while back, but you guys never made it there! Then there was Minho’s unannounced appearance before you stopped talking to everyone for a few months! You tilted your head and squinted your eyes. You forgot why you stopped talking to everyone, though. The more you thought about it, the more things were not adding up. You have meant to chat with Seungmin about it, preferably without any stranger’s presence.

“I don’t think I–“ You licked your lower lip at the ringing in your ear when you watched Jisung. Something about his face continued to infatuate you. You felt like you loved him a little. “You know what? Sure, let’s hang out.”

“Okay.” He smiled as he reached his hand over the gate. “My name is Han Jisung. What about you?”

“My name is [Name].” You giggled, reaching out to shake his hand, only to feel a light electrocution at your arm. 

You snatched your hand away from his with a surprised yelp. When you looked down at its source, your red string glowed.

[starkskeep]

When the Dragon Howls (3)

When the Dragon Howls Chapter Three

Characters - Cregan Stark x OC (Maera Velaryon), Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen

Summary - Maera Velaryon feels consumed by the obsessive clutches of her uncles. A wolf from Winterfell could potentially be the one strong enough to confront the dragons.

Word Count - 711 words

Warnings - Typical Targaryen relationships. Aemond and Aegon are kinda creepy (Sorry. The boys have no example of a healthy relationship in his life.)

A/N - Thank you so much for the support on the last two parts. Please let me know if you want me to start a taglist for this. The next chapter will be posted after this. I had to split it up once again due to being over Tumblr's limit.

Previous Part Next Part

Maera’s wish did not come true.

A reprieve from her family and the festivities was much needed so Maera looked for solace in the library of the Red Keep. She was reaching for a book on one of the higher shelves when a hand brushes her hand and grabs the book for her. Looking to the side, Maera sees Aegon handing the book to her. “What would you do without me, little Maera?” Already frustrated with his brother and wanting to be alone, Maera turns away and searches for the best place to sit. “Thank you for your assistance but I am sure that I would have been able to retrieve the book for myself.” She finally spots a cushioned bench in a window and makes her way to it, unfortunately, Aegon follows her. “It seems as if you have not only become more beautiful; your tongue has become sharper as well.” He flops onto Maera’s lap as she sits down. “Maera. You break my heart with your words. I miss you immensely when you are away. First, you allow my brother to escort you to dinner and sit by your side. Then you dance with Helaena and sneak out of dinner before I can even speak to you. Now you are rejecting my attention. This is not how you should treat your doting uncle.” Aegon continues his dramatics by taking one of Maera’s hands before he places it over his heart. Maera looks down at Aegon and rolls her eyes. Despite his wanting to be alone, Maera can’t deny that he is amusing her with his actions. She pulls her hand back and opens her book, trying to indicate that she wants to read. “I did not request for Aemond to escort me. He showed up at the door to my champers and it would have been impolite for me to deny him. Just like it would be impolite for me to ask you to leave me alone.” Maera muttered the last sentence yet Aegon still heard her if his smirk was anything to go by.  “You don’t mean that. I take great pleasure in being in your company as I am sure you do in mine.” Aegon says arrogantly. Another voice bore through their conversation. “No one except the women you may take pleasure in your company, brother.” Aemond growls out as he rounds one of the bookshelves blocking Aegon and Maera from view. “Our dearest niece does not have time for drunken fools. Leave her alone so that she can enjoy her books. You may not understand that someone can appreciate the written word since you barely know how to read.” Maera is caught as the two brothers begin to argue, completely ignoring her and her thoughts despite her being the subject of their argument. “You want her to read the books because they are the only things you are able to talk to her about, Aemond. Perhaps she would like you more if you were less uptight and boring.” Maera sighs as the argument continues. This seems to be much more than Aegon and Aemond’s previous childhood squabbles and Maera does not wish to be stuck in the library with them if it comes to blows. All she wanted to do was read her book in peace. She tries to stand but is pulled back down to the bench by a now red-faced Aegon. “Settle this for us, little Maera. Who is your favorite uncle? Who do you desire to spend your time with?” Maera looks between the two brothers. At this moment, they couldn’t seem more different. Aemond is glaring coldly at his brother yet still remains perfectly controlled while Aegon looks as if he is going to explode no matter what Maera’s answer is. The combination of both of them staring at her expectantly has Maera regretting her decision to come to Red Keep, much less the library. She cannot escape answering them though so Maera tries to be playful in her answer in an attempt to distract the brothers. “Daeron is my favorite at the moment. He is the only uncle who is not disturbing my attempts at reading.” Aegon laughs at her answer while Aemond just narrows his gaze.

[dollfaceksj]

So excited about sdkmn, I adore that JK. Will you be posting it on wattpad and here simultaneously? I remember that there were some issues with the word limit and that you had to split the published chapters and full versions went on wattpad. Or maybe I’m remembering it wrong?

no, it’s true , there’s a 1k block limit on tumblr but part 2 was the longest part which is why i had to publish it in two parts because it had more than 1k blocks. part 3 is gonna be posted in one part because it’s shorter than pt2 and doesn’t hit that limit

i’ll be posting it on tumblr and wattpad around the same time, not to mention ao3

[sylviegunpla]

Gunpla: Completed Collection of Minis Part 1: EFSF Alliance

Here's all the minis i've painted over the past few months!! They are as complete as they're gonna get and also top-coated and everything now. Let's run down the list under the cut! I've also rephotographed them on a matt that has scale, and using a ringlight. Each square on the matte is half-centimeter square, to appreciate the tiny scale of these guys. You'll notice that i have some duplicate figures above. Various people have gifted me some figs, so you can also see the evolution of my mini painting techniques in some of them. Because of tumblr post image limits, i'm splitting this up into multiple galleries. I will start with a gallery of minis associated with the "EFSF" (Earth Federation Space Force) group from the Gundam series.

PG Unleashed RX-78-2: Amuro Ray and Sayla Mass

I've already posted these guys but let's ass some scale, for fun.

I don't have much new to say about these guys, except that they were the first figures i painted in my "second run" of figure painting. I'll go into more detail about this later. I painted them and the others according to the color guide provided in the manual, as best i could. I think Sayla's collar badges could be done better and tbh, i can still fix that. I'll give an update if i do. Anyway, this kit came with TWO pilot figurines that sit inside the core fighter / cockpit. I present to you images of them in their homes:

This also serves as a preview for some parts of the PGU! I don't believe i made a post yet about the final build. I still need to do that, as well as edit the VODs of the build (the painting was also done on camera! ... mostly. I did some touchups off camera). This is the core fighter, and if you want you can put it inside the mobile suit, but there's no reason to. So i prefer to have it displayed outside, because there's a separate "core block" that you can also put inside the gundam, and it also has its own pilot!

Let's move on. I have many more Amuros for you. But first, a diversion! (EDIT: Turns out tumblr posts can only have 30 images at once. I was originally going to put Tobia Arronax here, but then i wouldn't be able to include the full set of EFSF characters here. So go check out the first entry of the part 2 post here: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviegunpla/753409506351939584/gunpla-completed-collection-of-minis-part-2 and then come back to this post)

MG 2.0 RX-78-2: Amuro Ray

This is the civilian outfit Amuro from the MG 2.0 kit. This was one of the "first runs" of minis i painted, i think in Fall 2023. I was convinced i could panel line it and make it look good. Honestly it looks fine at a distance but with the details blown up... well you can see it's a mess. Still, not bad for an early work. The rightmost image is when it was WIP, before being panel lined. TBH that might have looked better if i kept it that way, but you live and learn! This kit also had a pilot outfit figure:

This was also one of my early paints. Here you can see the panel line colors just running wild. I think the civilian outfit has less bleed at least. The helmet is also messy as hell. And as for the pilot that sits in the core fighter... well the actual model kit is currently disassembled for painting, but i can show you the pilot figurine.

Once i finish the MG 2.0 RX-78-2, i'll include an additional picture here. {NOTE TO SELF: INCLUDE PILOT IN COCKPIT PHOTO LATER}

I still have yet more Amuros though! At a local build jam, i've been gifted some minis that people don't want to paint. I got two extra figures of Amuro Ray, that match the sculpt above. I'm not sure if they're from the MG 2.0 or the MG 3.0 RX-78-2, but i referenced the color guide specifically from MG 3.0 for these. I also painted them this year, so you can begin to see the difference. Why not get the extra practice in, ya know? The biggest differences between my old minis and the more recently painted ones are two fold: 1) I started properly thinning my paints (which i did for the PGU figures, they were the first of the "new" line). 2) Eventually, i began using a pair of binocular magnifying goggles i could wear on my head, giving me a better ability to see mini details. I think the difference speaks for themselves:

For the one on top, i did a basic paint with flat coat, no panel lining or anything. Since i had two, why not experiment a bit. THe second one, i coated it in Mr Super Clear Gloss and then used some Citadel Paints Nuln Oil (gifted from a friend who's into warhammer) to achieve the "panel lining" / "shading". I think it turned out okay ultimately. I think the nuln oil works as a better panel liner over the super clear than some other pigments i've used, but it depends on the technique and precision involved. Oh yeah, and all these based were also custom made. Here's all 3 standing together!

Lookit those boys!!

MG Hi-ν (Hi-Nu) Ver. Ka: Amuro Ray

I think he's supposed to be older than in the previous kits here? You can see i opted NOT to panel line this boy... well except the line down his back which imo kinda turned out not that great looking. I probably could have used some nuln oil to highlight some of his facial details and give the impression of having eyes. ANd then here is the pilot figurine:

I'll get pictures of this kit entirely in a separate post, too. Right now the kit is disassembled and i need to re-assemble it. It's not a "WIP" kit, the kit itself is all done, got water slide decals, even has the "Heavy Weapons System" setup. Here, i DID use nuln oil, to try to highlight some of the suit details. I'm not sure if the lighting is blown out here, but it's also accurate to say that the suit details didn't come out as nicely highlighted as i'd wanted them to. Still, he's gonna live inside a clear green plastic sphere once he goes inside, so it won't be easy to see anyway.

BONUS: Watch this boy get Cask of Amontillado'd (and additional pics) I have to admit, sometimes when painting i'm having trouble finding the actual details through a layer of paint. I suspect the Mr. Hobby Aqueous Line may not be as useful for hand painting tiny boys like this, but it's also the set of paints i decided to slowly acquire over multiple years, so it's what i'm using. The Citadel acrylic paints seem to not glob up as much.

MG RB-79 "Ball" Ver. Ka: EFSF Workers

These boys were also among some of my earlier paints in 2023. You can see i globbed up some paint on one of the faces and kinda ruined it. I think the panel lining is mostly okay, but yeah. This kit also didn't have a color guide, so i basically eyeballed the colors. This kit is also one of the ones i have fully disassembled in the process of painting, so the whole build will eventually be its own post too. This thing also has a pilot figurine that lives inside the ball. I took some pictures highlighting the pilot, but i haven't applied decals to the inner ball yet.

However, i did get some duplicates of the standing workers from someone at one of the first build jams i went to! Which i used as an opportunity to just... get more practice, and try to paint these guys again.

Here, i used slightly different shades of yellow and orange. I think the details stand out a lot more. I also used nuln oil here for the shading. I think overall these look a lot better than my first attempt, and i'm rather proud of them. I'll have four workers able to hang out with the Ball once it's completed! This concludes Part 1 of my minis gallery. Continue to Part 2 by Clicking This Link!

[lettersandinkstains]

congrats on finishing a wip!! Whats ur secret!!!! lmao

This isn't my first WIP I've finished, so that helped me a bit. (There's a reason I don't talk about my Vampire WIP anymore, it's done, just sitting archived for me to go in and edit it, and do a new draft of it)

Knowing my limits, taking breaks, and shelving when I start to get frustrated. If I find myself dreading the writing process, it's time to take a break and focus on something else.

I also shelved other WIPs to focus on one, otherwise I wouldn't finish anything. Too many projects meant my mind is split onto too many things, and HEMLOCKS was already established with a few interested beta's that weren't on Tumblr or any writing server - just a couple of friends I could trust with the document and liking the synopsis.

I also had Lyric's voice stuck in my head until I wrote her story and re-wrote it until I was mostly satisfied with it. I also did writ a lot of it when I was feeling low or in a bad state of mind, so some of it was just mostly vent works, drawing from my own past or a late partner's past (minus the "parent killed the other parent" part of it all), especially something that Lyric talks about that I and my late partner personally went through at different times.

It was also just reminding myself that there's no rush to finish it, perfection is never going to be achieved so I may as well just do it and write what I want to write and see in a story. It helped me that it is actually an entirely different genre than what I normally write, so I actually had to test myself and see where my limits actually lied.

Also, I didn't talk about it too much on social media so I didn't feel like I had to write a WHAM line every time or feel like I had to create, create, create and make every sentence and line meaningful and deep. It felt pretentious more than normal.

I also stopped complaining. I stopped complaining about the writing process, how I didn't know what to say or what to call it or what to do or how much I hated it, hate that, and jokes of "why can't it write itself" jokes. I stopped insulting it. It didn't feel good, I didn't feel good, it just made me hate what I was doing more, so I just decided to stop complaining about it, and started sharing what I was proud of with a select few friends.

If you speak negatively about your stuff, why should anyone else like it? Why should anyone else read it? "This story sucks and I hate writing it" vs "Some scenes are giving me trouble and I'm getting a little annoyed" are two incredibly different statements, one puts most readers off and the other is relatable. Like on A03, "I suck at summaries" won't net you shit. "This story probably sucks" won't do anything. And you'll also eventually start to believe that - what then? If you hate what you're writing it, why are you writing it?

Was it frustrating sometimes? Did I run into writers block? Yes, so I shelved it and came back to it later when I had some more inspiration. I wrote it in Google Docs entirely and would link my friends to get live responses, I wrote at home and not at work because if I wrote at work, I'd associate it with work.

If I wanted to stop writing it, I did. HEMLOCKS got put aside for awhile for fanfiction because I found not working with my own OCs for awhile genuinely helped me.

I stopped editing as I went. The best advice I ever received was, edit later, write now. Worry about mistakes and perfection later and then accept that perfection isn't possible, and that's okay!

I start writing it when I was awake and stopped when I was tired, I took breaks, I ate when I needed to, drank water when I needed to, etc. None of that, "I won't eat or drink or do anything until I write 5K words today!" Absolutely the fuck not, and I still see shit like that in writing spaces. TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY, your brain needs that shit to WORK. A healthy body DOES equal a healthy mind, drinking some water does wonders, so does going for a short walk or focusing on something else. You need to listen to your bodies signals :/

...And I honestly stopped participating in NANO. Camp or Novembers. I honestly didn't like it, didn't like the pressure - it stopped feeling fun after awhile and started to feel like work. And I stopped talking about it altogether, except with a few friends who are close to my heart and may be the only ones to ever read it. Likely if I am asked if someone can read it, I will say no.

Lastly, I stopped posting on here. Like, I absolutely love writeblr, I've met some great people on here but - I found not posting in writing communities helped me a lot. Notes had become a big thing and I was too fixated on it, and then I realized that if it was wrecking my mental health, it's time to leave. I hate sanitizing things or writing for the masses, I like to write what I like and often times, that's WLW and not MLM. And sometimes even not romance and more something like HEMLOCKS. And I found that I was posting more about my WIPs than actually writing them or feeling motivated to write them.

I have plenty more, especially when it comes to HEMLOCKS but that's between me and the two people that know why I was working on it and what was happening like two nights ago that made me finish it.

SO this is Novel Number Two that is finished for me and I feel like I've only been able to talk about it with like three people. I am incredibly proud of myself.

[jodi-chigurh]

RR-2 (part one) by Jodi Chigurh

(Note: due to Tumblr's text block character limit, paragraphs here are split up. This story can be read in its original form here.)

For sixty nights and sixty days after first losing my picture of my darling Salome, I and the rest of the Henry Company were sort of aimless, more so than usual. The metaphorical loss of her had tarnished the morale of the entire company. One down, all down was the way Pvt. Thom (Sukyingpong) had put it. It was his mantra, and though he never admitted it, we knew that he knew just as well as we knew that it didn’t go the other way. It was only ever downhill. I was a drafted Air Force kid transferred to a drafted Private-ranking soldier amid minefields and makeshift military ha-has when I was only used to seeing the things I berained with flechettes as tiny pieces of land on a great gameboard which stretched to the horizon. Everything down on the ground was new to me. The company helped me acquaint myself with all of it, but I never got to venture up in the air again. The Earth is a lot more depressing than the Sky. Bickley understood the transition. He had been a voluntary Air Force Officer who quit and was then subsequently a drafted Captain. Said the only good thing about Captainhood was “‘cuz [he] worried [his] girlfriend didn’t think airplanes was sexier than crawling through jungle muck.” In Bickley’s pocket, he also carried a picture of his sweetheart, she whose name he had forgotten, stapled to a crude facsimile on cream paper given to him by Gambolix or Sukyingpong around a month or two ago, back in the southern Sác before our marching-in-circles helixed upwards into the northern half of the area:

FOREIGN-U.S.A. COCHINCHINESE CONNECTIONS RELAY SERVICE MEMORANDUM #171, 3RD HENRY COMPANY, RSSZ-2* LOCALE Typical proceedings LIMITED TO ELLIPTOID CYCLES MARCHED THROUGH RSSZ-2. Company guided by Cpt. CHRISTOFF BICKLEY. Localized to NORTHERN RUNG SAT SPECIAL ZONE. Designated relay-airman A is #171, Off. JEWGENI GAMBOLIX. Backup relay-airman B is #055, Off. PATRICK VIMANA. Memorandum filed by Mr. EDWIN MONTPARNASS on 04 JUNE 1970. Please ensure all fields are completed before submitting. * Rung Sat Special Zone (Area-)2.

Americo-pyxides shook and bumped into each other deep in our pockets as we marched, filled with heart-shaped rocks for Thom, his sweetheart in San Fran, and capsules supposedly medicinal for Erstazky. They even rang as we wandered through the deep mud of that unnamed Sác river.

That night, we set up base around five chains from a barren opening, which acted as a locus of nocturnal faunal activity. The location was Ersatzky’s idea. Dinner that evening was some sort of noodles which no one among us, not Knut nor Crampton nor I nor Bickley could really identify. They were sallow like a sickly man’s skin.

Crampton: “Do you guys ever miss your girls?”

Bickley looks up. “I can’t even remember her, so maybe not. You, James?” Ersatzky looks at Bickley after calling his name but doesn’t respond.

I clear my throat. “I miss Salome a whole lot. I draw her in the dirt sometimes. It’s hard without that picture…you know? Maybe Bickley was wise to not take one.”

“Did ya,” Scrumbleknut coughs up some noodles, “did ya ever do anything like that, like umm… hanky-panky with that photo? It was, a-haah! it was quite dirty, no?” The other guys and I feel sick. Crampton laughs.

“No, I didn’t, it—”

“Really? Reaaaaally, ‘cuz I—”

“—was just dirty because we’re in the wilderness, man.”

“—always notice—oh, yeah, sure.”

“Shut up, Knut, you fuckhead.” James Ersatzky coming in with some common sense!

The conversation went on, with increasing use of pejoratives and threats from Team Knut vs. Third Henry Company as Bickley and I continued to stay quiet and eat like depressed porcine geriatric men. What it escalated into was rifle-chest contact and a dead rabbit, shot by Crampton after missing Ersatzky by a few hairs. It was then that Bickley called everyone in for bed, begrudgingly.

Late that night, perhaps even in the early morning, when everyone had drifted off into the mosquito-infested indigo night, save me and him, decided to tell me a little life tale of his as we both, independently of each other, batted away bugs. We were in bed, just neither of us asleep. He starts without warning: “Hey, Erik?”

I asked what it was he needed and he puckered his lips, I think. “I should probably tell you this, I think you’d just find it interesting. It’s about when I was an Officer. Airtime.”

I nodded but forgot he couldn’t see me. “Well, what happened, Chris?” That sentence was one continuous exhale.

“I worked in the Air Force for a couple of years before quitting and subsequently getting drafted up here as part of the Henry Company. That was crazy. I didn’t really do much, I just kind of slacked off on all our projects and flew around, that too. It was mostly theoretical rocket science when I was down on the ground. And I was never a rocket scientist as much as it sounds like it to you, I had more of a mock-job if anything. What I do remember was whenever the third Okinawan troop arrived here in Nam we started working on this thing called the U.R.R.S. and a specific rocket for it called RR-2. The RR in that stood for Red Rocket and U.R.R.S. was Ultradestructive Red Rocket System. I don’t know if that was the final name, I think Maj. Doumo just recommended it to some overling as a sort of cheeky joke. I didn’t work on the first Red Rocket, that was something they constructed after Nagasaki got bombed and they never ended up using it. But it wasn’t nuclear, nor was ours, even though it was an ICBM. What it was was,” he turned over on his cot to look at me. “What are those things called? That you was dropping from your plane?”

Me: “The Rainbows? Like Agent Orange?”

Bickley slumped back on his cot and looked at the ceiling. There was a hole up there. “No…no, I meant those little guys that you dropped from your plane.” I knew what he was talking about, but I didn’t fly AD-5Ns often to drop those little flechettes—they were called Lazy Dogs. As I had stated above, I spent most of my time in the air, which was minimal, flying C-123s and effluxing from their tanks Agent Orange. “Those dense little fuckers that go, like, a foot into firm concrete if you drop them from your plane. Lazy Dogs! That’s it. That was the plan with RR-2, ‘cuz what U.R.R.S. was was that we were gonna have the RR-2 flying over South Nam over Vietcong bases. The rocket itself was just a modified V-2 rocket since we already had Nazi scientists at NASA. Arthur Rudolph had brought some plans over from when he worked on V-2 in Germany and we just used those and changed a couple of things. But the RR-2 itself was a pretty weak ICBM. What made it potent or what would’ve made it potent was it had a ton of miniature Lazy Dogs on it. There were mechanisms to, when it was launching, it would drop a bunch of Lazy Dogs before it made contact with the ground. All the Dogs would just fall outta the Red Rocket before the rocket itself would make contact with the earth and fucking blow up.” Bickley laughed a little. “But we scrapped it. There were too many complications and we couldn’t reliably get the Lazy Dogs to fall out. We did once, but we didn’t remember how we did it and it didn’t work again. They also didn’t want to send ICBMs to an Eastern Bloc warzone, is what they eventually decided.” Bickley wasn’t wrong that Lazy Dogs go around a foot in concrete. When I rarely dropped them back in the AD-N5, they left tiny holes in the ground. A couple times I hit actual Vietcong troops, their anti-personnel manufactory purpose. I never saw that carnage up close but I’m assuming, since we were dropping them from 3k. feet in the air, that they dug straight through those Vietcongs’ skulls and into their thoraces and abdomina. The thought of a ballistic missile covered in those, dropping those across the plains of Vietnam, lodging themselves in the crania of the Henry Company and Vietnamese villagefolk and northern communists alike, was terrifying. And that night…

That night, wheretofore I had always kept half my set of eyes open even in slumber to pay attention to my base and environs, I had now resorted to closing both my eyes, completely sinking into the Zone and losing myself in its brine.

Here is what I hallucinated that night in an angst-induced mania: I envisioned a Cartesian plane, scraped into my inner eyelids with a scalpel, and against it a ring of Unity as a corona of light above Salome’s head as she looked down at me and clicked tut tut or tsk tsk tsk as she would smile a smile straight out of one of my father’s stained, dilapidated film rolls held hostage in the basement in Peoria, IL, Home, and she swooped down from the heavens to pick me up from the depths of the Cochinchina, as Scrumbleknut called it, and so I did indeed imagine Salome Joey Zrank, the angel sent from heaven, floating down with her white wings, reaching down to the cursed earth upon which I stood, her white wings made of Unity, not in an individually mathematical nor spiritual nor philosophical sense but in a sense which was a synthesis of all three, her ethereal form beckoning acceptance from me of the fact that she was the Monad and the Everything, that the Universe was neither here nor there, neither infinitely dissectable nor infinitely assembling itself into something larger, that it had an end in both directions, the micro and the macro, and it was Her, that she was to be my everything, my guiding moonlight, and that I would do literally anything she told me to do, all this as she ascended with me into the clouds above base, which was now host of a terrible coup orchestrated by the Vietcong, Tonkin’s little puppet down south, the Vietcong and my own comrades drafted from the States by chance and not by commitment and nationalism, some not even understanding why they were there like me, yes, they were seeming more and more like chess pieces or circular xiangqi tokens as I went up and up with Salome, and I saw them there, on the Cartesian plane of southeastern Asia, with Laos and Thailand in the peripheral, and I cried into Salome’s bosom as a hundred thousand dead Vietnamese men and women and children and American postadolescents sang majestic chori in all of the world’s forgotten tongues, those with holes in their heads and arms lopped off by the Enemy, with the meat of their jaws sloughing off into their laps, and nevertheless they smiled on and on, their smiles shining into the great horizon, a beautiful lightshow upon the Sky-Quilt, none of the earthly bacchanal or debauchery of Vietnamese nor American land present, only the innocence of infantile, not Judaic, cherubim which danced in the air like the pervading scent of Man’s good. And then I fell asleep.

In the morning, we marched on. We had long ago resorted to marching in vague circles and limaçons and ellipses and helices in the jungle unless airmen sent by FUCCRS—Foreign-U.S.A. Connection Communication Relay Service—dictated otherwise, which no, today they did not. Scrumbleknut and Crampton brought these girls from a nearby village which we passed every three or four days. Scrumbleknut had a way with translinguistic and -cultural gesticulations, and had either convinced them to dress up or simply found them dressed up in makeshift áo nhật bình formed from loose fabric. Bickley, who had been standing far out scouting the ground for anti-personnel arms, reported to me that that night he saw written on the back of the shorter girl in childish majuscule lettering ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘ, and on that of the leaner one, ᴋɴᴜᴛ. We had encountered other young women who owned these makeshift áo and used them for what seemed like a sort of juvenile and mirthy rôleplay—we’d witnessed many performances. Sometimes secretly in the case of Scrumbleknut. He was big and burly and had an affinity for east Asian women—he said they were “the most innocent things on God’s forsaken Earth” with drool leaking out of his mouth onto his sallow, pustular chin even as he watched an all-female Vietcong guerilla militia named the Sác Bạn Gái attack and nearly kill our FUCCRS airman Jewgeni Gambolix. He talked of how at home he studied Japanese women’s speech and imagined their acclivitous intonation—nē!, aramā…, uchi. And, of these women, he had no problem killing them, watching their souls leave their bodies as those bodies fall to the dirt ground. Ersatzky would tell a joke his father told him, that Scrumbleknut had a bad case of “yellow influenza.” You can’t say that anymore, but we said it a lot back then, solely as a descriptor of the Knut. It wasn’t always jocular—you would catch him sitting amidst dry shrubs and bushes, or in a trench he’d dug out long ago, belt and trousers down to his knees with binoculars glued to his eyes, and us, the Americans, seeing small figures moving playfully in a village around a few chains away, would waltz up to whatever he was so entranced by, only to realize they were girls—expected—and they were pubescent—unexpected the first time, but not long after. Then we’d scare the kids away and the Knut would holler and yell and someone would surely that night be the recipient of capital and spinal strikes from the Knut’s BAT, which was not an initialism, he just always screamed the name. Scaring the kids was never for the sake of scaring the kids for us, at least not for Bickley and me—it was because the Knut had derived his nickname not just from an ellipsis of his full patronym, but because he was, to put it mildly and/or euphemistically, “(k)nutty,” Crampton’s words, i.e. he was known to do things on a whim. Amorally so. He arguably had no conscience and only two primal modes: sex and murder. Sometimes intertwined....

One time, when we still got non-FUCCRS transmissions from Gambolix, checking in with each of us, asking how we were holding up in the awfully hot Sác, it was Scrumbleknut’s turn, and he took the radio out to a horticultural village and had Gambolix listen to a woman dying. He had cut her throat with a machete, and was laughing and entranced. He said “Jewgeni,”—pronounced the J-E-W as jew instead of yev despite having heard it a thousand more times than he had seen it written out—“Jewgeni, this is fucking amazing. Have you ever felt what this feels like? Watching this?” Stuttering Jewgeni Gambolix responded with a disgusted and panicked no. The Knut clicked off the radio, villagewoman still a-gurgle, but not for long. When the Knut came back, he was adjusting his trousers. A short-lived nickname for Scrumbleknut thereafter was the Bashy Bazooka—we didn’t expect him to know what a bashibazouk was. There was no jolly irony in that name. And so what we began to call him when he wasn’t around, the Company outside of his company, was Urmensch. He was an Urmensch—if you go to the Navy, the Air Force, etc. intentionally, you find a fair amount of them in your squadron. That or you become one. My father was an Urmensch, not unlike Scrumbleknut. He was named Occidenzo, though the paternal side of my family was full of Britons who had been in America since the Revolution, not Italians. And no one really ever called him Occidenzo til his soul had gone ex vivo—just “the Man,” “Mister Hisser,” “Ozzy,” “the Big O.,” “Majordom-O,” variants thereof. Or Dad. Dad looked really similar to me, more so than most consanguineous look-alikes. He never balded more than a hundred odd hairs, lacked the prominent schnoz of Barbara, my mother. She hated the Man. Towards the end, she moped and cried every time he spoke to her, her tears wiping away and pulling down loose guiches which hugged her cheekbones and temples. Perhaps I was too drunk, secretly of course, on the Big O.’s stash of cinnamon Fireball to properly recall what she was doing and gesturing at, but I recall her upstanding from her seat, screeching at the Man, irate gesticulations transforming into shaky indices pointing at rashes and welts which stretched like striae from her chelidons to her wrists.

On that day it was a Wednesday, and there was no school. It was snowing. I was then the centerpiece of a household miasma of the influenzal variety. The Big O. could be heard yelling at Madeleine and tearing up her bedding—earlier, she had boughten a large cookie and given him but a measly moiety. Mom was in the kitchen beheading a hen from the coop who could no longer lay eggs, and it was clear she was trying to distract herself, because as much and as horribly as she loved Madeleine, she knew if she interfered with the Big O.’s strict proceeding of capital blows and gluteal slaps, she would be added to his waitlist, so she was in the kitchen, preoccupying herself by practicing the ablauts of English—drink, drank, drunk, sing, sang, song, sung—attempting to give each a concise Peorian English nominal definition and/or tense-cum-aspect. It was when an osteoid CUR-A-ACK! resonated down the Persian-fitted steps of the stairflight against the western wall in the parlor that Mom’s head and mine pivoted and halted at once, in different spots but our gazes converging to a singularity, that young feminine screeching of agony—the sight of which was concealed by a stucco ceiling above industrial ducts and pipes and tubes—shaking the house. I remember Mom running up the stairs, her heels falling into on each carpeted step, and she burst into Madeleine’s room, and there was the Urmensch in the Big O.’s vessel. He was smiling widely, holding a tome in his hand and beating Madeleine, her aching body, to a pulp. You could see her leg was broken orthogonally, and the Big O. was there grinning with a toxic rictus, like a suspended zygomatic convulsion. I remember my mother calling it rictus mortis—the grin of death—the week before I left. Dad was at a pub that night. It had then been six years since he broke Madeleine’s leg, and that was the first time I asked my mother about it. She said, with apprehension, as though he was still watching her, that no matter how many times Dad serenaded her on how deeply sorrowful he was, how unbelievable it was that he would do such a thing to his daughter, how horrible he felt, she will never forget that it took a month for him to even say anything. Only upon mentioning the event herself did he even apologize. It was at 10:36 ᴘ.ᴍ. that we got news that Dad had crashed his jalopy into a BMW at a T-junction south of Main street and died upon impact. His last words to me and Mom were “don’t do anything stupid” followed by some mumbled pejorative and that was the end of it. There were no tears of grief, there was no bereavement.

My first Urmensch pokes above the surface of the subconscious like a turtle crawling up from the depths of the sea to the shore, slowly but surely, while there sat Scrumbleknut, in the frame of my father, drinking cold coffee and laughing, one arm around the girl labelled with his sobriquet, most of us trying to determine whether or not she was of age—her male-length hair made it difficult to tell for some reason. Every direction she turned her head she looked sort of different, but we knew she was a girl since she occasionally let out short expressions of disgust in a Vietnamese dialect we could not parse, and her voice was deep and feminine. She looked both scared and disgusted by the Knut’s hairy hand. We’re all seated around a little bonfire fashioned of branches and twigs and trunks of tillers. Crampton of his girl, long hair, deeply asleep in a swoon: “I’m naming i…it Lilith!”

“You ass,” the Knut tightening his brachial grip around the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl, laughing, chelidon behind her neck. “You don’t name a gook whore…” Former-FUCCRS-messaging-airman-turned-crawling-through-the-Vietnamese-muck-and-mire-type-soldier Thom Sukyingpong reädjusts, making an uncomfortable expression at the Word. We, the white men, sans Scrumbleknut, fall silent.

Bickley turns away from the bonfire to bury something behind him, and without looking back advises “Not while Thom’s here, Knut.”

“What?” Tongue click. “What sez you? What do you care?”

“Well, from your perspective, you wouldn’t want Thom to get pissed and go off and snitch to the Vietcong, right? Even—”

“Right.”

“—though he’s Chinese, not Vietnamese, right?”

“Thai,” Sukyingpong interjects, picking at the soot lodged under his fingernails. “I’m Thai-American.”

“I thought that was part of China.”

Bickley expects Thom is just being pedantic, but hearty laughter escapes his gut: “No!”

“What?” Furrowed brows indicate Bickley is riding through his mind-palace on cavalry, trying to figure this out, and then “Oh! I was thinking of Tibet. Buh-hah!” and he scoops a mound of hot cod into his mouth, then starts exhaling vehemently to cool it down.

The Knut upstands. He’s tall and still holding onto his girl so his height yanks her up and she groans tiredly. “I might be just be a hunk to you guys, but I’m not Goddamned stupid!” So he starts stomping around, stomps right on Bickley’s unshoed foot. You can hear the cracking of knuckles, maybe even bones!

“Knut, you ass!” Bickley springs up like the Knut’s member upon the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl crossing her legs, ands jumps around on scarce gravel upon the dirt. The cod falls out of his mouth. A typical reaction among the Company would be to burst into laughter and knee-slappery but Scrumbleknut’s face of Urmenschian contempt is making everyone uncomfortable. And of course, Bickley is very uncomfortable, in pain.

Everyone soon departs for the night, makes up excuses to leave for bed as the Knut’s arm moves around the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl’s shoulder as an amorphous mass of muscle fueled by vitriol and brutality. Thom wanders off into the forest and comes back with nothing an hour later, immediately goes to bed. Bickley and I falsely admit we’ve got some planning to do for tomorrow and head off to our yurt. We soon hear Crampton and Scrumbleknut pulling out rope and tearing fabric from clothes and at one point a girl, unclear which one, perhaps neither and an apparition, scream and sob into silence.

That night, Bickley and I had a much shorter conversation than the night previous. “Well, I know those men well, Erik,” he gazed sadly at nothing, into the dark environs of camp I guess, like there was some deep evil swirling in there.

“Walk them back to the village.”

“That’s the right thing to do and it should be so easy, but Knut’s gonna beat the shit out of me. And their home’s only some half a mile that way too. And I can’t even do shit or I risk getting sliced up, shot, and literally banged to death by Knut like that one lady last time Jewgeni called.”

“I…doubt he’s sadistic and gay. You’ve seen how many girls—”

“Ach.” Bickley looks over at the ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘ- and the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl, both loosely tied to a sapling’s and blindfolded with parts of their clothes, asleep. “How’d we get such a fucked up demented idiot fucking lunatic in our company.” Not interrogative.

The name of the land we were occupying that night was not Nam nor Cochinchina nor Việt Nam, it was the Orient. It was us, the Europeans, approaching these people as objects of the East, like nineteenth century Britons and Frenchmen learning of Persian harems from a more western sect of the postquranic Orient, how they drew women in their harems with huqqas atilt on malapropos Ottoman carpets, the women painted doffing their hijabs, tantalizing the male “trespassers,” because those Britons and Frenchmen could not figure out any potential activities other than carnal lounging with regards to what those otherly women—whose colors said Britons and Frenchmen could only liken to metals and not skin—could possibly be doing alone in a room so elaborate with geometric Islamic architecture and wainscoting and gül-donned cushions. That was who we were, hold Thom the Thai- and Gambolix the Israeli-American, pale men young and spry and ignorant, not sure how these people we were fighting worked outside the context of comics and cartoons and how they could feel quite as much as we did. We sure saw their agony when we killed them though…a tin-tin-tin-tin-tintinnabular ringing which lacerated our hearts when we saw a young child’s final gaze, or a man’s ultimate scream, or a woman’s last bloody throat-gurgle…

I think for us to not have killed ourselves out there in the jungle we needed one of two things: comradery and/or psychopathy. Most of us got through on comradery alone, but even on those other than the Knut, even on Bickley and perhaps some others, there had to be some inhibition of empathy for them to carry out what they did. Maybe it wasn’t mental—Bickley was, after all, known for his on-the-fly moonshine-makin’. In the Zone. Bickley’s grandparents, in fact, had met during l’Exposition Universelle Parisienne de 1900, his grandfather a British engineer-turned-architect-turned-sailor who had continually circumnavigated the Dutch East Indies and was sent to Paris for l’Exposition to ensure le Pavillon de Indes orientales néerlandaises was constantly up and running among the colonial pavilions, and the grandmother was a Moscovian yellow-ticket prostitute, Alexandra “la Shurca” Bickley née Barakov, specializing in sadomasochistic appointments, which included that which made her famous among Russo-degradees—a subset of non-Slavic sexual tourists who specifically ached to be degraded by, say it, a Russian minx: pouring samogon into her clientèle’s eyes and subsequently stomping their genitalia to bits. Good business. Bickley men historically loved that shit, and the great-great-grandfather was no different. “Ya, castigate me, ye minx!”—yes, the double great-grandfather was born a North Englander…or perhaps had picked some language up from Dubliners and Kerrymen alike? Uncertainty on Bickley’s part. The Barakov samogon recipe preservation was originally to ensure Alexandra, and no, that great-great-grandfather shall not be named, that her future daughters and granddaughters may start a filial yellow-ticket business in the States, whereto they had moved in 1903, but it was in 1918, after bearing the children twain she would and could, when she travelled with a one-way (yellow-)ticket to Justingrad, UKR to live with the cetera of the Barakovs, catching wind that her grandfather had passed. The next year, in the shtetl, the Russian Volunteer Army waltzed in and pogromed the area. Most of the women were raped—Alexandra, as Bickley clan legend goes, fearing more sexual trauma atop that of Moscow, cut her hair to pass off as a man, and was killed before she was defiled. The shtetl was a sea of corpses atop each other. We wondered as kids how those soldiers carried out those pogroms and genocides without emotion, and after months there in Nam we understood that some of them, those ones not already too antisemitic, had to have felt some sense of guilt, slaughtering Jews—w/r/t the Pale—in Ukraine Citerior, for no reason other than orderly ones: General knows best… Among us, even those viewing each Vietnamese man as just a “gook” and each woman as a “bitch” and each child as a “brat,” the extramilitary sense, there was guilt. There was always a supratheatrical tragedy to the days succeeding a mass murder here. It was a terrible guilt transforming Here, the British Orient of 18XX, into the Vietnam of 1970, like that of late-Mahlerian chords in archi tutti and horns. Gambolix giving those needless massacre assignments via crude staticky radio always sounded uneasy. He had seen carnage from high above, and unlike me, thought it was more terrifying than on the ground like it was seeing the world as a god and having to acknowledge that you let these people die before a strange battalion of stout Vietnamese women in uniform began to shoot down your plane as you were trying to find the company which FUCCRS assigned you to, smirking Scrumbleknut with binos in the peripheral, who had, if we’re to believe the many times we’d found him there as the norm, likely shitten his pants and just didn’t care, “eyes on the prize. Yak-yak-yak!”

The ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘ-girl is growling in her sleep like the Knut tonight. I hear what must be another aurally hallucinatory rocket, but it seems so real. The kathoomp! of a Lazy Dog burrowing into the ground sounds off somewhere outside tonight’s base, to the north.

In the morning, Ersatzky, cup of militaristic faux café au lait in hand, sits beside the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl. One of the guys had given her his button-up shirt to wear. Scrumbleknut had gone out anti-personnel scouting with Bickley, and Crampton’s catatonic—the ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘ-girl knocked his socks off and ran off into the jungle this morning, finally doffing her mock áo nhật bình. No one cares enough to really do anything, since we know he’ll come to soon. Thom Sukyingpong lays on a log, gazing up at arboreal foliage. Ersatzky is the worst-versed in the Vietnamese tongue, so he, in the introductions, resorts to primal chest thumping in conjunction with speaking his name (“James”, pointing towards his thorax) and then pointing to the ᴋɴᴜᴛ-girl and giving an inquisitive look, head tilting.

She looks confused and worried and paranoid, as a kidnapped girl does, and slowly, articulately, carefully says, “Tôi…là…Trinh…” Her hesitation’s the same as ours would be had Ersatzky spoken to her instead of resorting to grunting like a wild animal. She basically sounds like she was talking to aliens, that which we might as well be.

I, overhearing Vietnamese conversation, swivel. “Trinh? Her name’s Trinh, James.”

Ersatzky upstands, shakes soot off his trousers. “Trinh…Trinity…ach, my love!” a hand covers an eye and he gazed upward dramatically—he’s trying to obscure his bereavement with irony. It’s a common practice among those company-clown privates who realized long ago that in the Vietnamese jungle, with Lazy Dogs a-rain, mines a-planted, Vietcong and American vengeance rampantly gallivanting across minds Occidental and Eastern alike, there is not much humor to be found. It is the Theater of War—tragic to the soldiers, comedic to the overlings, and both to those who could never understand.

I sigh as Ersatzky paces back and forth. He set himself off, thinking about Home. “Your girl’s name was Serenity, man. No, not even, that was her sister! Your girl was Faith!” I look behind him at Trinh. “Chào…” She waves. It’s a face of contempt. “Trinh?” Nods.

When Scrumbleknut returns with Bickley he puts Trinh’s blindfold back on which had Ersatzky had doffed in the morn and calls after us to follow him forth into the jungle, Trinh limp and agitated in hand. Groaning: “Đụ má…người Mỹ ngu…” She hits a tree and the Knut and Crampton laugh. Trinh estimates the Knut’s position aurally and spits in his vicinity, a deed to which the Knut pokes her chest with the barrel of his rifle. We’ve sort of cut loose from the grand helical ambulatory ovals of yore…the Knut guided us now in a straight line through the Sác, and it was around four or five hours along the trail, finally at twilight, at which PHASE II of Scrumbleknut’s plan began. He explains to us while holding a still blindfolded Trinh that the night prior, he had had a dream, a vision, of this river—he points behind him—of women bathing galore, and so he brought us, his men, a determinative phrase which Cpt. Bickley raises an eyebrow to, to finally relax, a break from the horrors of War, a beautiful bacchanal like that of the Romans.

From behind him: “Hallo, Herren!”

“Jo, hallo!”

“Kommt! wir sind eure Rheintöchter, Herren!”

Crampton’s eyebrows go worried and frantic. “Ach! Nazis! They’ve rejoined the Eastern Bloc!” He aims his rifle, eye a-wink. “Father, I made you this promise…” Rarely does Crampton show this much familial patriotism—only to his WWII-vet pops. Sort of sweet but terrifying.

Bickley rests his hand on Crampton’s trigger arm. “They’ve joined the Bloc…as fair rivermaidens…?”

“Lots of roles to fill, Bickley. They’re everywhere…”

And now Scrumbleknut: “Well, I’ll be damned! Haa! told you chicks’d be here!”

“Er…” the rightmost Rheintochter grimaces and yanks on a nonexistent necktie ‘round her tattooed neck. “Hall…hello, y’all! And we ain’t ‘Nazis,’ you on the right, only, as the tall man kindly pointed, rivermaidens.” She flashes a metallic nametag, similar to those of American office spaces, though blood below it indicates that she’s pinned it straight through her chest: Floßhilde. The two others, running their hands through their hair and glancing at us, are thus from their nametags assumedly Woglinde and Wellgunde, which most of us find confusing, and so we don’t talk to them much. That lack of communication may also be attributed to the fact that, unlike Floßhilde, the two Ws were attractive Medusae, and we feared if we looked at them and their snake-hair for too long, we’d turn to stone, and how does FUCCRS write home about that? or categorize that manner of death?

Wellgunde downs a chipped bottle of Heineken, and it catches Crampton’s eye. The Knut is the first to make the innuendo, though: “You can really down that bottle, huh?”

She spits out her wine and takes aback the Knut. “Pfaugh! god, you men…” Trinh, despite never showing comprehension of English, gets the innuendo from the Knut’s eh? eh? expression and Wellgunde’s reaction, and she also shows tired disgust.

Scrumbleknut frowns. “What of us, eh?”

“Ugh…” Floßhilde groans. “Another penis-obsessed man-child? You look around twenty, no?”

“Twenty-one…”

“Twenty-one? Old enough to drink where you’s from? And here you are, pointing at everything that leaves a linear shadow and making a big ruckus outta it. Have your men not brought up to you how stupid that is? or are they just immature too?”

We yell in unison as the Knut looks back at us for advice, “Not us, ma’am!”

The Knut tells her, “I just meant it as a joke!”

“Alright…? It sucked ass,” Woglinde hands Floßhilde a lighter and a cig.

“Is it in y’all’ses nature? I guess pointing out every ‘dick’ is easy for you guys. Just so noticeable, hmm? We,” she looks at the Ws, “we don’t point out every trench, hole, opening, as a vagina! We never have, outside of dick jokes made by men alone.”

“Well, excuse me,” Scrumbleknut approaches the stream akimbo, “I assumed three naked women in water gesturing towards incoming men wouldn’t be so taken aback by just ol’ flirting.” His current gesture is one he’d likely laugh at any of us for making on grounds of looking effeminate.

Wellgunde belches. “Shut up, asshole.”

“We didn’t even gesture,” Woglinde lighting her own cig with Floßhilde’s. “Just said hallo.”

“Ach…” Floßhilde looks back at us. “Any help, boys?” We look at each other absentmindedly. “Well, screw me, you’re all our third company today, and that’s been our eighteenth dick joke. Great fun! I mean please,” cough, “is no stick sacred to you?” The Ws chortle. “Maybe,” Floßhilde turning away, “because the yoni is defined by an absence of space, we don’t see it as ubiquitous—we tend to only think about what’s real.”

Woglinde: “So, like…not your chances of an orgy. Sorry, bud.” The Rheintöchter then each left, dove under the bubbling stream, arms twisting together upwards above their heads, then each would flip around her yaw a bit, then her pitch severely, the origin being her navel, diving headfirst into the stream until only her legs showed, upside-down, and then she was none. The Knut did throw himself in after them in a last-ditch effort to fulfill his vision, but they had, in fact, gone.

We sat that night just before a large opening near the stream, where the Knut was still soaked. Trinh, finally unblindfolded, was attempting to cover her smirk all throughout the evening. I am unable to give Scrumbleknut any comfort, out of ethics. But Bickley tries. “Need a blanket, Tim?” “Yeah,” he shudders. And then, around five minutes later, he snaps. Perhaps from the cold or perhaps from the Urmensch within finally breaking free after months of chiseling away from the inside of Scrumbleknut’s endoskeleton like a prisoner breaking out of his karma. He stands straight up and spits on Bickley, and he takes Trinh by the arm and yanks her up, tosses her over his shoulder, and he screams the loudest any of us have ever heard a scream be, even when we did genocide villages as commanded by a reluctant but acquiescent Gambolix. This scream was so loud that Trinh may have, for a second, completely given up hope of resisting, which for her consisted of pounding on the Knut’s back over and over until something broke. We were all calling after Scrumbleknut as he ran into the field, Trinh screaming, curved near parabolically around his shoulders. The Knut’s gallop was like that of a feagued horse. By God! his libido inhibited his ability to walk! He was galloping into the darkness of the forest before us! And though one saw how Trinh escaped from the grasp of Scrumbleknut, when she came back out of the darkness she was skipping, dancing around like a particle of paisley finally unsuspended from fabric, almost…gallivanting, and then there came the Knut running out after her, ungraceful as always, again, he looked as though he had been feagued, this time like it was Trinh herself who feagued him, shoved an Vietnamese river eel up his ass, running through the meadow, still wet and dewey from the morn, yes the Knut was galloping like a wild animal who had been starving for a week, and on his sixth or seventh stride—bowop! a sound exponentially louder than any orthographic representation could indicate. It blew out my ears and I felt earthly debris slap my face. Trinh was now really dancing, under the rain of blood. She dug her heel into Scrumbleknut’s decapitated head and laughed. Ersatzky, who didn’t have the same East Asian affinity as Scrumbleknut did but still viewed them as, disgustingly, “innocent creatures,” was more shocked by Trinh’s behavior and demeanor than his “comrade” getting blown to shit. Bickley stared in awe, and Crampton had a nervous guffaw at the miserable display, intestinal tissue and other unidentifiable flesh suspended in the air by high twigs. “Knut!” two men yelled. I never found out which. Trinh was the happiest she’d been throughout all her kidnapping. Bickley later wondered if that was indicative of the Knut doing something to her while we weren’t looking beforehand. But even through her cackling joy, she looked shocked. It was such a sudden death that even she could not come to terms with its brisk execution. We marched back to base after what felt like a day under a nonsetting moon. Most of us had been simply unable to move. Even minutes later, carnal debris was still falling from the sky, like the beginning of a rapture in some old Christian denomination’s eschatology. Trinh, who we expected to simply leave, followed us back, though at a distance. There was a cool silence as if Scrumbleknut’s voice, at any point, would pop up. Anticipatory nothings. They were especially tense when, around three chains outside base, we saw Floßhilde and the twain Ws dead, eyes leaking out of their skulls like the glair of an egg. In the morning, after uneasy sleep from all parties, Trinh had departed and taken some of our food. Bickley was not particularly mad, and he called up FUCCRS to let them take care of it, and to alert them that Pvt. Timothy Scrumbleknut had died.

[memryse]

last life session 4: a deep dive

hello tumblr! on account of various personal things, i haven’t really contributed much to the fandom in a while, but here's an idea i've had bouncing around in my brain this whole time and have been absolutely itching to get written. now, 3rd life is absolutely still my favourite series, but session 4 of last life is firmly my favourite session of either series, arguably some of my favourite videos in mcyt history in general. so i've been wanting to write a piece on what, exactly, makes it so objectively brilliant. i just absolutely love writing meta about this series and honestly i will probably not stop for a very long time!

under the cut because it's... a lot :]

to start off, i'll mainly be referencing grian, cleo, joel, and bigb's POVs throughout this, but i'll probably briefly touch on some of the others as well, because this session is wonderful no matter whose perspective you watch it from. i'll be splitting this essay into a few sections, because this session has two primary subplots that contribute to the wider narrative, and it's difficult to write a cohesive essay on them without splitting them.

grian's fall

this session opens on the back of a relatively tame session three. one boogeyman, one death. joel is rapidly earning a reputation for being the least effective (and most frustrated) red name the series has ever seen. all in all, tension was not running too high. grian opens his POV by covering the southlands' walls with cobblestone - "it turns out, all you need to do is set one block on fire, and the whole place is gonna come crumbling down."

Well.

i'm sure that's not at all foreshadowing what happens to the southlands after one member turns red.

nah.

anyway!

grian begins his emergency preparations, namely setting up a bunker where he hides a few dogs. ............wait, this is also foreshadowing.

let's try this again! he passes scar's base, and shoots a few arrows at scar to be irritating. after some banter, in which scar is not scared of grian in the slightest (in direct contrast to, well, everyone else on the server. just desert duo things), scar tells grian that his soul crystal preorder has been cancelled. in response, grian adds scar to his "book" - his hitlist for when he turns red. Fuck this is also foreshadowing

back to some more southerner shenanigans, including but not limited to: scaring martyn, teaching mumbo the value of plagiarism, mumbo brings up his plan to build a ghast farm, martyn asking about the location of grian's wither skull because he'd like to know in case grian suddenly turns red. God damn it not again

meanwhile, joel's traps and murder plans are continuing to fail majestically. eventually, the two run across each other, and joel laments his inability to kill anyone (the infamous "ahahaha! going a bit mental! going a bit mad!"). i'm not going to say it again but guess what this is! lord, grian has more death flags than a sickly little victorian boy at this point. more red flags than scar near a lava trap. but seriously, completely unintentionally on any of their parts, the narrative is building up this same point, again and again: grian is going to die. the southlands will collapse. this is fated, and this is inevitable.

thankfully, after this, we get a bit of a break of grian and mumbo causing (non-fatal) problems in the nether. causing more problems in the overworld. even more stupidity as they build the ghast farm. you forget about all of the tension that was previously building. you let your guard down. forget all about joel. we see cleo's death pop up in the chat (more on that later!) and even this is turned into a joke about boogiemen! they hop back to the overworld for a couple of minutes and come back, we see grian casually complaining about not bringing torches.

mumbo: OH. OH. joel's here. joel's here. grian: what? mumbo-

and just like that, it all comes crashing down. life picks up for joel. everything we had been warned about previously comes true. grian is red.

now, let's talk about the fairy fort.

the collapse of the fairy fort

the boogeymen of this session are chosen: ren and bigb. two people from the same alliance, which already makes it painful enough for the viewers. but what really hammers this in as incredibly painful and angsty is their opposite responses to this. cutting back to etho's psychological warfare tactics in session three: ren tells etho he would get the boogey kill quickly and smoothly (incidentally, he specifically says he would choose the weakest person he could find, and "chop off their head". hmm). bigb, on the other hand, tells etho that he wouldn't kill anyone, that he would go to red. in session four, sure, ren does what he says he would - he doesn't cut off anyone's head, admittedly, and instead goes for a more complex trap, but he does take a weak-seeming target (a lone skizzleman) and executes him. he is also entirely upfront to his allies about being the boogeyman, and assures them that they're safe from him - and for his honesty and loyalty, the fairy fort rewards him, offering him aid. bigb is present in this meeting. bigb chooses to say nothing.

(before i continue, i'd also like to point out that earlier in the session, cleo tells bigb that she is "more scared of joel than the boogeyman at this point", clearly as a tongue-in-cheek remark about how both joel and the boogeyman are not scary. not only is she saying this directly to a boogeyman, that person would go on to kill her later that session, and she would go red from one of joel's traps. but sure, she ended up being glad about it, so perhaps she was right to not be scared!)

from bigb's pov, the session continues mostly uneventfully, until he and lizzie catch ren talking with jimmy. bigb expresses worry that ren will turn on his allies and kill them instead. ironic, huh? he's then given multiple opportunities where he could kill lizzie, but doesn't - he's still holding onto his commitment to not betray his allies.

next point of interest: a conversation with cleo.

cleo: the only thing i can think of is, the boogeyman would want to kill us, if he couldn't get anyone else. bigb: that is true. that is true. cleo: so... it's safe up there for now, but i'm steering well clear of ren. just in case. bigb: yeah. well, i'm glad he told us. cleo: yeah, but why did he tell us? so we'd let our guard down. bigb: yeah... that's what i'm also thinking. cleo: we stay away. you and me. bigb: i mean, would you forgive ren though? if he- cleo: well... probably not to be honest. [...] you and me stay away from him, we'll be alright.

that is... one hell of a conversation, huh.

bigb then laments to the camera that this was a prime opportunity for him, but he couldn't do it; he couldn't kill her. he calls himself weak. he's angry at himself for not being able to get a kill.

more adventures with lizzie as they attempt to lie about their villager, find the green lives' club, converse with the southerners. time stretches on ever further, and we're all too aware that bigb is running out of time - especially because bigb's episodes are long, this session in particular, split into two 40-50min parts. you can practically feel his desperation building, and meanwhile, his allies still trust him wholeheartedly. cleo in particular.

their southern excursion is interrupted by ren's boogie kill, as they all rush back to the shadow tower to find out what happened. ren expresses his relief that his boogeyman kill is all over and done with, the session is getting close to being over, and at last, bigb gets visibly antsy. checking his inventory for fire resistance potions, etc. after a long conversation in which we see skizz forgiving and praising ren's kill - a very strong contrast to what we'll see from bigb and cleo later - ren and skizz finally head down to the base of the tower.

bigb examines the depth of the pit. cleo stands above it on a block of dirt - she's testing him. she trusts him, but she's not sure, and she wants him to prove his loyalty.

bigb cycles through his inventory. a heartbeat sound effect plays. he takes out his axe.

he checks the pit one last time.

"cleo."

she knows what's coming, and she fights back anyway.

she would have let him do it, if he'd asked.

i don't think i need to recount the rest of the scene, but my point is, this whole sequence of events is tragic. ren comes clean about his boogeyman status, gets an easy kill and is praised by everyone for it. bigb chooses to hide, not being able to stomach the thought of killing until it's too late and he's too desperate, and he earns the wrath of a furious zombiecleo after brutally murdering her in a river. earns the title of betrayer to all.

joel's trap goes off. another win for the "villain" of the series. cleo is red. bigb runs.

the new reds

so. we've gone from a peaceful, nonthreatening start of the session, to a session now infamously dyed in blood and betrayal. before i go any further, i just want to point out the reason that the pure horror of this turn of events is so strong, is because of the two specific people who turn red. grian, the infamous troublemaker. winner of 3rd life, and the one with the most kills to boot. unpredictable. loves tnt. died too late in 3rd life for anyone to actually see what he would be like as a red name. need i say more? and cleo, who loves nothing more than empty threats and arson. two things which she is very much allowed to do now. people are very scared of cleo, even though she doesn't always back up those threats: in particular, her former allies, bigb and lizzie. she is terrifying to have as an enemy, especially when she's bearing a firm grudge against you.

all of a sudden, the tone of the session shifts. i'm not quite sure how to describe it, but it's the same feeling as when a character suddenly turns evil (or is revealed to have been evil all along). they're menacing without a shred of empathy. their friendships mean nothing in almost a blink of an eye.

as a red, grian first heads over to scar's mountain. he threatens scar. he reminds him that scar went back on their previous deal - grian's "very generous offer", with all the emphasis and hidden threats that those italics can possibly convey. but scar continues to try to make a new deal, and grian turns their previous exchange against him. "you know what? i'll give you that deal on preorder. i'll see you later, scar." now, whether scar pays much heed to this very obvious threat is one thing, but from an audience perspective, it's quite terrifying.

he meets with joel, reluctantly befriends him, and receives his official exile from the southerners. as if things couldn't get any more tragic for him!

this is just such an image. seeing grian away from the southerners, with joel. hurts my heart. slash positive connotation.

next, grian encounters the green lives club. honestly, not that scary from his perspective. but if you watch scott or pearl's, he is suddenly downright terrifying. singing nonchalantly, asking "what have i just stumbled on?" whilst he laughs to himself. it's honestly one of my favourite scenes, it's scary!

and, at long last, the grian and mumbo scene. you know the one. it starts out fairly sad, them both lamenting what they could have done better. mumbo tries to win points with grian, convince him not to kill him (this is after we see mumbo has left a sign asking the same thing). grian gets an idea. and all of a sudden, once again the tone of the scene shifts to downright horrifying, as grian laughs and gleefully tries to kill mumbo.

mumbo: what, you want me to volunteer myself into being red? grian: i wasn't asking you to volunteer.

what a scene, huh?

anyway, back to cleo! she is disappointed about turning red for approximately [unspecified amount of time before she respawns because she put in a replay capture of her death]. the instant she respawns, cleo is laughing. she's excited about the prospect of getting her revenge on bigb. a little sad about losing the ability to team up with pearl and scott, sure, but she hardly lets that show. (this part really is sad from a viewer perspective, though: we're excited to see her team up with the most functional alliance on the server, who won't betray her like bigb just did, and she dies trying to get to them.)

she runs over to the fairy fort, and meets up with joel - taking the opportunity to first scare ren, her former ally, and then happily proclaims she'd love to join team red. the two of them cheer about her death, as cleo quite literally cackles (and ren laughs along nervously). her episode ends with her assuring joel that she has so many enemies to murder. what a change from her earlier in the session, hiding underground with bigb because she doesn't want to die. as session five would show even further, an angry cleo is not an enemy that anybody wants to have,

oh, and then to top it all off, bdubs goes and dies by accident. another new red! this one is like an easter egg, because it's hardly in any povs with it happening so close to the end of the session, which honestly makes it even worse. the deeper you look into the series, the more povs you watch, the more tragic it gets. there's not really a lot to say because bdubs' red life really begins in the next session, but he does very quickly turn threatening towards tango and etho. as we're all well aware, red bdubs is... unstable. very murderous, very desperate for red friends (but also retaining that general Bdubs Energy). he shows no qualms about betraying his friends. once again, it's rather scary!

if i had to briefly summarise this very long post, then forgive my use of marvel metaphors, but this session is like the infinity war of the series. everything culminates in this one session, with various subplots all interwoven to create one narrative, in which the villain wins. you are not supposed to feel happy about this - you're not even supposed to feel angry about it. last life session 4 leaves you feeling hollow, you're not sure what to make of it. it follows a practically perfect narrative, with the exception of the "villain" (because we all know nobody is really a villain here) winning. you see people quite literally fall from grace, lose everything that they worked for, and join the antagonists with varying levels of regret. it's beautiful to me; no other mcyt video has ever had quite this kind of impact on me. and that's why it's one of my favourites! i hope i have convinced some people to also love last life session four :] thank you very much for reading!

[gr-ogu]

Hello! As requested, here is a tutorial on how I make my gifs. I would like to preface this by saying there are many ways to make gifs, and there’s no right or wrong answer imo. This is just how I personally go about doing so!

I will be using PS CC 2017, but as long as you have the video timeline option, it shouldn’t matter too much; on any version of PS, you should be able to adapt anything I mention here! You will also need some kind of screen recording software. I’ll talk a little more about that under the cut.

To start, you need the source material you will be making the gifs from! I get mine from snahp(.)it (avoiding links so tumblr hopefully doesn’t banish this from the tags lmao) and I always opt for either 1080p or 2160p. Not all laptops will support 2160p as it’s 4K, but either works great! You just want your gifs to be the best quality possible.

Next is where the screen recording comes in. I don’t use the screencapping method to make my gifs (where you use a program to cap a clip and then load those caps into a stack in PS). This isn’t for any particular reason… it’s just how my friends, (who very kindly taught me to gif), had always done it, so it’s now how I do it too. Personally, I find the quality to be just as good as the screencapping method, and have never noticed a difference between the two.

As I have a PC, I use the software built into it for screen-recording. If you go here: theverge(.)com/2020/4/21/21222533/record-screen-pc-windows-laptop-xbox-game-bar-how-to – you can see how to use the XBOX screenrecorder to record from files you have d*wnloaded. This also works on some streaming sites, but I think it depends on what browser you use. Personally, I recommend Firefox, as that seems to bypass a lot of the blocking and ads that occur when trying to do this sort of thing.

For MAC users, I have been told handbrake works well, as it converts MKV files to MP4, which can then be used to make gifs. You only need to convert part of the file to MP4 depending on how much you want to gif, and this also bypasses the screenrecording stage, as you can edit MP4 clips on Quicktime. I am told you can split them into smaller clips by going to edit > trim and it saves the new clip!

I have also used anyvideoconverter for small clips, but I can’t say what it does to the quality of your video, or how big of a file it lets you put in! With the XBOX screenrecorder, it doesn’t matter what type of video files you get, as the recording will save to MP4 anyway.

LOADING YOUR FRAMES

Now, go ahead and record whatever clips you want to gif. Make sure you have the video timeline open, by going to window > timeline. Then, go to file > import > video frames to layers.

Next, select and open your clip from where it has saved (with the XBOX recorder, it saves in video > captures). You should see a little window pop up, where you can move the sliders back and forth to clip your recording to whichever part(s) you specifically want to gif. I recommend trying not to load a lot of frames into photoshop at once, but I would be a hypocrite to say that, since I do it a lot lmao. Just be patient if you do!

Once you have chosen the length, click okay. Never, EVER, I repeat NEVER click the button that says “limit to every __ frames”. This really ruins the flow and quality of your gif—it’s better to have shorter, but smoother gifs, I promise. And with tumblr’s new 10 MB limit, it shouldn’t be a problem anyway!

Then, your frames should open up. What we want to do is make them into a smart object, so we can edit all the layers at the same time. To do this, click the small button in the left-hand corner. ALWAYS click this first. If you don’t, it will only convert the first frame to a smart object and the gif won’t work.

Give it a second to sort itself out, then, on the right-hand side, select all your frames at once using the shift key.

Then, go to filter > convert for smart filters. This might take a minute. Don’t click anything else in case PS gets angry lmao, just leave it for a second and it’ll do its thing. The more frames you have, the longer it takes! Now we have our gif, but it needs to be cropped, sharpened and coloured!

CROPPING

You want to start by selecting the rectangular marquee tool on the left-hand side, then drag it across by clicking and highlighting the area you would like to crop your gif to, like so:

What I tend to do is select everything inside the black lines you sometimes get around your gif (this depends on what file you d*wnload), and also the tiniest bit inside the sides. This is because I’ve found if you crop it right up to the edge, you get a tiny bit of transparency on the sides of your gifs, which I’d rather avoid.

Once you have your desired selection, go to image > crop. Now, the dimensions for tumblr are 540px width, so all your gifs have to be that width. However, the length is up to you. I really like big gifs, so sometimes I even make a full square, or even longer. It’s entirely up to you, and what kind of set you want to make.

For the purposes of this gif, I will stick to what I usually go for, 540px by 350 px. This will mean you’ll have to crop some width off, but that’s okay, since Marisa isn’t central anyway. The cropping is always trial and error for me, as sometimes people move out of the frame within in the gif. The best thing to do is just try it, and then move the slider in the timeline window at the bottom to see if the person stays inside the gif, and if not, adjust accordingly.

Next, go to image > image size:

In this box, if I put the width as 540, the gif is a smaller height than I want, as it keeps to the dimensions of the gif when you load it into PS. That’s okay, just put the height you want instead, and we’ll crop off the excess.

Then click OK. Using the rectangular marquee tool again, we need to remove the excess width. Part of the reason I like this version of PS is that it tells you the width of your selection as you do it, but you can always use the ruler as a guide, and check the size of your image by going to image > image size again.

Again, use image > crop, and your gif should now be the correct size!

You can also use the crop tool in the timeline window to crop the length of your gif:

However, I tend to wait until later on to do this (which will be explained further down!)

SHARPENING

Next you want to go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen.

These are my settings. However, 0.4px is very sharp, too much so, but that’s easily fixed.

Go to filter > blur > Gaussian blur and then set it to 1.0.

Now on the right-hand side, we need to reduce the blur, so double click the little adjustment button, and change the opacity of the blur. I usually go for 20-30%!

Then click OK, and that’s your sharpening done!

COLOURING

I picked this scene on purpose as it’s dark, so good for showing how to colour a gif. I have a base psd which consists of some very basic adjustments, but it mostly exists so I don’t forget what adjustment layers I like to use. I adjust them every time I make a gif, essentially colouring each gif from scratch.

In this case, the psd actually makes it darker. So, what I will do is turn each layer off, and adjust as I go. A lot of people say using lots of adjustment layers ruins the quality of your gif… I have never found this to be true, as long as you are gentle with them. If you whack the brightness right up to the top, it’s going to ruin your gif no matter if you use 1 adjustment layer or 100. I would just say use your common sense, and adjust a little at a time!

I start with a simple black to white gradient map set to soft light, because I think it helps you see depth once you add some brightness to it. I usually do this on about 10%, or more if needed. It’s probably unnecessary, I just like how it looks!

Then, I move onto using curves and levels. This is where things can diverge depending on who you’re colouring. If this person is white, it doesn’t matter too much. If they’re not white, you don’t want to white wash them. My best advice is to play around with it. By adding vibrance and other (usually the red) selective colour settings later, you can ensure you don’t change the person’s skin tone from what it originally was. You can also use layer masks at varying opacities (various shades of grey), on your curves and levels, to remove some brightening so that you’re not changing anyone’s skin colour. Just brighten slowly and check in with yourself honestly about how your gif looks.

Some people don’t like using levels, or curves. It’s completely up to you. I tend to use both because levels are good for bringing depth, even if not brightening (though I like to use them for that as well). 

One thing you can do is use the white point of the gif to make PS adjust the curves itself, however I like to drag the sliders myself and see what it looks like. Just make sure it’s not too bright, as we will be using further layers to brighten more, after.

Next is levels. The slider on the left controls the black point, the one in the middle controls the midtones, and the one on the right controls the white points. The black brings depth, the midtones adjust the overall brightness, and the white points produce stronger highlights. Again, you’ll get a feel for how this works as you practice. Just don’t use the white point excessively, especially if your characters are not white.

Then I add vibrance (+20!), because we’ve removed a lot of it when lightening the gif. Next is exposure, which I find brings out the highlight and shadow areas more effectively:

Then colour balance! This helps with scenes that might be a certain colour, i.e. too blue, too green, too red, etc. Moving the sliders in the opposite direction of the colour your gif is will counteract it. The best thing to do when accounting for different colours, is to make a new layer every time you change colour, so that you don’t get confused. I always add a new layer for colour balance and selective colour if I want to change more than one thing. So one for red, one for yellow, one for pink, etc. 

A layer of brightness just to make the gif pop, and because the scene is extra dark, I added a very gentle extra curves layer:

SAVING YOUR GIF

Time to save the gif. You can go ahead and file > export > save for web (legacy) now, but then you’ll have to reopen the gif to reset the frame rate from 0.07, to 0.05. Instead of doing that, I use a modified action. The original was made by the very talented @elenafisher! So I do not take credit for that at all. You can find the original here: elenafisher(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190817437374/gif-sharpening-action-2-preview-download and in my resources tag. Please reblog it if you’re going to use this!

To use an action, first make sure you have actions turned on in window > actions. To load in your action, go to the little lines circled, and then load the action from your downloads:

Obviously if you don’t want to sharpen your gifs yourself, you can use the action as it is, and it will give you a beautiful glowing effect. If you’d just like to use it to flatten your gif into frames like I do, make sure to take out all the items I have highlighted:

Until it looks like this!

Make sure you have the layer under the file name highlighted, and then click the play button at the bottom! (If you get a screen saying select all frames cannot be found, don’t worry, just click continue!) You can delete the layer that does that if you want, I just keep it in case I realise I’ve forgotten to do something, because you can click cancel and edit your gif before you flatten it. Of course you can undo the steps to get back to the smart object version of your gif, it just takes longer!

And now your gif is in frames and set to 0.05 already, so you don’t have to change the speed! All you need to do now before saving is change the gif cycle to “forever” in the bottom left-hand corner:

Then to save the gif go to file > export > save for web (legacy). Sometimes, the gif is bigger than the tumblr 10MB limit. You’ll be able to see this in the bottom left-hand corner of the gif save settings. If this is the case, I like to preview the gif, to see whether it would be best to cut frames off of the beginning or the end, or both. When you’ve decided, you can select the frames at the bottom, and in the right-hand side panel, and delete them both using the little bins/trash icons.

I keep checking and deleting frames until I get the gif under 10 MB! Just don’t delete frames from the middle, as then you’ll have the same issue as if you selected “every other frame” when making the gif: it won’t flow!

Lastly, these are my save settings:

So that’s it! That’s how I make all my gifs. Blending I do when the gifs are in the grouped, smart filter stage, whereas text I add on during the framing section above! Really hope this is helpful, please feel free to ask any questions you may have! 💖

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Six (part 1)

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: ANGST, bad language words

A/N: Tumblr sucks. It forced me to split this chapter up because I exceeded the text block limit. That’s just how I write! Link to part 2 at the end.

A/N 2: Thank you again to everyone for showing this story so much love! And thank you to everyone for your patience and support as I struggled to put this out. As you can tell from the multiple parts, it was a doozy. 🥰 divider credit- @firefly-graphics​

In case you missed the update, I will be publishing a new chapter every other Saturday from here on out. Schedule is in the Masterlist in my header.

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Monday morning rolled around, and your good mood from the weekend followed you into the office. Spending all of Saturday and the majority of Sunday texting James had lent to this early morning cheerfulness. You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You had even managed to arrive before most of your team.  

You hummed a sweet melody as you booted up your computer and organized a few files for Timmons to peruse. They were statements intended for the press needing his approval about a particular prominent CEO or A-list celebrity client. The firm was not confirming nor denying any knowledge of said client’s whereabouts the previous week or why there was photographic evidence of them coming out of FlashDancers NYC. Other files included those seeking rebranding approval for existing companies looking to revamp their image.

Most importantly, today was contract signing day for Stark Industries. 

You had compiled the document from a generic template the company used for all its clients, manually plugging in Stark Industries’ information in the correct spots and changing or omitting any services rendered or not. E-signing contracts were not only environmentally responsible, but they also saved a lot of your time from printing out numerous copies of a single agreement.

All you needed now was Timmons’ go-ahead to email the contract, and Pepper Potts could plug in her Jane Hancock.

Seeing Timmons enter the workroom, tweed coat draped over his forearm and attaché in hand, you rose from the seat behind your desk. You shuffled into his office after him.

He hung his jacket from the coat rack in the corner near a bank of expansive windows and placed the small, leather case he’d been carrying on the sturdy oak desk. He pulled out a stack of papers and tapped the pile against the desktop to straighten them before setting them down. Looking up at you briefly, he tugged out his laptop next.

You positioned a mug of coffee on Timmons’ desk, turning the handle just so, making it easier for him to grab. You cleared your throat gently. He glanced up at you again.

“Here’s the media statements for today,” you said, handing him a group of manila folders. You smoothed down the hem of your cardigan, smiling at the reminder of Bucky. You wished there had been a way to apologize to him again. He had left your apartment with such a pained look on his face. Maybe you could ask Peter. “And the Stark contract pdf is ready to go. I can email it over to you for final approval.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Timmons replied absent-mindedly, lifting the organized piles on the desk as if looking for something.

“Oh, okay,” you returned, nodding your head diminutively. “Do you want me to forward the contract on to Ms. Potts, then?”

“Ah-ha!” Timmons exclaimed, plucking a pen from underneath a stack of envelopes. He twirled the writing implement in his hand and peered at you, finally taking in your presence for the first time that morning.

An uncomfortable feeling washed over you as he evaluated you from head to toe. What was he looking at? Your hands tensed into fists as you continued to wait for his answer, growing impatient.

“Should I go ahead and do that, then, sir?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest like a protective suit of armor to deflect prying eyes.

“Yes, yes. That should be acceptable,” Timmons answered.

It threw you off balance. What had gotten into him? Timmons always had to have the final say on everything. It was so unlike him!

“Just so we’re clear- I will be sending the Stark Industries contract via email to Pepper Potts to e-sign,” you said, seeking clarification. You wanted to dot all i’s and cross all t’s because you weren’t going to lay your ass on the line for a misunderstanding. Especially not with something as crucial as the Stark Industries account.

“What? No, there’s been a change of plans,” he corrected.

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he purposely trying to give you mental whiplash?

“Change of plans,” you affirmed. “Has Stark Industries decided not to use the firm, sir?”

“Oh, no. They’re still going with us,” Timmons said, rearranging the clutter he’d made on his desk.

You dropped your arms to your sides, although inside, you felt like throwing them into the air in frustration. Why was he so vague? He was usually wholly transparent with you. “Would you mind explaining it to me, please?” you asked, borderline annoyed. “Last time I checked, Stark Industries’ contract signing was still on the calendar for today’s agenda.”

“And it still is,” Timmons acknowledged. “It’s moved to an in-person signing.”

Your stomach plunged to the floor. Shit! You hadn’t printed out the contract! When was the appointment? How much time did you have? So many questions flew through your head.

How could Timmons keep something like this from you? Your heart hammered in your chest. You practically wobbled on your feet. Were you going to be sick?

I’m going to get fucking fired over this, you thought, trying to steady your breathing.

“Will you be ready to go in twenty minutes?” Timmons questioned, sitting down in the comfy desk chair and opening his laptop.

“Go?” you squeaked, attempting to recall how much you had in savings. You shook your head, trying to understand his words. Was he already asking you to clear out your desk?

“Yes. The car will be here at nine,” he said, keyboard clacking as he typed something.

“Car?” you asked, finding great difficulty comprehending the situation. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Timmons regarded you in bafflement. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? NO!” you declared. You didn’t need that added to “the inability to perform required tasks” as a reason for your firing.  “I’m-I’m just really confused, sir.”

“About what?” Timmons asked, sitting back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“Well…” you started. “What do we need a car for?”

His chocolate brown eyes shone with what you imagined might be excitement. “To drive upstate, of course.” He smirked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desktop.

Upstate? What was upstate?

Timmons’ smile broadened as realization crept across your face. “Are we-”

“Yup!” he interrupted gleefully. He was like a child in a candy store. “We are headed to the Avengers Compound with a personal invitation from Tony Stark himself!”

You blinked several times at your boss, not entirely computing what he’d said. You were usually a lot quicker on the uptake than this. Why were you having such an off-day? 

“We?” you asked, shaking your head clear of the cobwebs. Why on Earth would he bring you along?

“I need someone who knows the ins and outs of these contract signings,” he said, fiddling with his pen again.

Wasn’t that his job?

“I’m just the schmoozer- the people-person,” he admitted, shrugging. “You’re the real brains behind this whole operation.

You nodded your head in agreement. He wasn’t wrong. The office would collectively collapse without you, and it felt good to hear your actual boss say it out loud.

“You better not forget it, either. Especially when my job performance evaluation comes around,” you asserted.

Timmons swiftly saluted you as if he was the subordinate. You huffed a laugh at him while shaking your head with incredulity. You took a step or two toward the office door before looking over your shoulder at him.

Timmons had turned back to his laptop screen already and started typing again. “So, twenty minutes?” he asked with an air of levity.

You faltered, nearly tripping over your feet. “Wait? You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Timmons wondered, looking up hurriedly from his laptop.

“I need to print out the contract and make copies, for one thing,” you mentioned, almost accusatory. Maybe if he had warned you ahead of time, you wouldn’t be so defensive.

“Already taken care of,” he soothed.

“What do you mean it’s ‘already taken care of’?” you asked, raising your hands to make quotation marks with your fingers.

“I had one of the other grunts do it last night.”

You gaped at Timmons like a goldfish, mouth popping open and closed. Did you hear him correctly? Timmons did something to make your job easier? You could hug him right now! You felt like pinching yourself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Once you gathered your wits again, you glanced to your feet bashfully. “Oh,” you spoke, absently fingering the bottom button of your cardigan. “Thank you.” You smiled gratefully.

Timmons returned the smile with one of his own. “You’re welcome.”

“Nine o’clock, then,” you agreed, moving further toward the doorway.

“On the dot!”

Words couldn’t even begin to describe the Avengers Compound. You’d seen it on the news, sure, but that didn’t compare to seeing it in real life. It was grandiose, imposing. You felt dwarfed in size looking up to the high rooftop. 

It was almost ostentatious in a way. Much like the man who designed it. Larger than life.

Tony Stark.

Tony had insisted he take you and Timmons around on the tour of the compound. You still hadn’t seen the need for a tour.

“When Tony Stark invites you to tour the Avengers compound, you don’t say no,” Timmons had said in the car-ride up when you questioned why it was necessary.

It was all superfluous, really. Like Tony was trying to woo the firm to sign them, not the other way around.

A headache was forming at the base of your skull as you waited in line at the reception desk to return your visitor security badge.

The tour of the facility seemed to have been drug out longer than it needed. Tony had appeared overeager to show off every little gadget or trinket. Or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

When Timmons excepted the lunch invitation after the tour was completed, you felt the urge to run down to the armory, grab a gun, and shoot yourself in the foot. You were kicking yourself for ever agreeing to come on this dumb tour.

As the line slowly dragged forward, the muffled noise of men’s voices caught your ear. It sounded like an argument. Your line of sight followed to where the altercation originated.

Standing twenty feet away was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, clearly disagreeing.

Your breath stilled as you watched the two super soldiers quarrel in a near-stage-whisper. What could they be fighting about?

From your place in line, you saw Bucky shake his head adamantly, his chestnut hair swishing about his shoulders. He might have even stamped his foot like a child, but you were too preoccupied with the look of abject horror on his face. He turned away as if to flee, but his friend caught him by the shoulder to stop him.

Were you causing this reaction from him?

You looked to your right to see if there was possibly someone else. All you noticed, though, was an empty space. Had you hurt Bucky’s feelings that badly? Your stomach clenched. The last thing you wanted was to be on an Avengers’ shit-list.

Glancing back to the two men, you caught Steve gesturing Bucky forward with short sweeping motions of his hands. Bucky shook his head again, stubbornly.

Even at this distance, you could feel the frustration rolling off Captain America.

Like a sucker-punch to the gut, you suddenly became very aware you were eavesdropping on Captain America and his best friend.

Your cheeks heated instantaneously, embarrassed of your staring. You shouldn’t be spying on them, you admonished. No matter how much your curiosity is piqued. 

It was none of your business.

You turned away from them, facing the reception desk again.

As hard as you tried not to pay attention, you could still see what looked like wild gesturing from the corner of your eye.

What if they started fighting? Shouldn’t you be conscious of your surroundings for your own safety? You fidgeted in your spot as you debated your moral compass.

Fuck it, you thought.

As you peered over to the two super soldiers, Steve shoved Bucky forward gently, causing the latter to trip over his booted feet. Bucky glared back at his friend, his hands clenching into fists. Steve shooed him further. You could barely make out the word “Go!” on his lips.

As if in slow motion, you eyed Bucky taking step after step toward you. Was he coming over here?

Once you realized what was happening, your heart plummeted to your knees as your head whipped around to the front of the line.

Bucky Barnes was definitely walking over to you. 

Had he noticed you staring?

You tried to stabilize your heart rate with slow, easy breaths, but Bucky was beside you much sooner than you could imagine.

A waft of aftershave hit your nose- woodsy and deliciously masculine. Your stomach swooped.

God, he smelled good.

Without having to turn your head, you could feel his brawny mass hovering near you.

How do you play this?

Perplexed? 

“Oh, my gosh! I had no idea you’d be here!” Of course, he wouldn’t believe that. This is where the Avengers lived. He’d probably think you were a stalker.

Apologetic?

“I’m so sorry Peter and I made fun of you! Will you ever forgive me?” Nah, too needy or clingy.

Or--

Before you could think of any other ways to portray the situation, you heard a large gush of air escape from Bucky. Was he nervous?

“Hey-hey, (Y/N),” he said, voice shaky.

You gazed to your left. Bucky looked as white as a ghost. Had his ego taken that big of a hit?

At that moment, you wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and tell him sorry, and everything would be okay. You couldn’t, of course. You didn’t know the guy. So you settled for the next best thing.

You smiled at him beatifically. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

Like a veil had been pulled, his demeanor changed instantly. He returned the smile. “Ja-” he started but scrunched his nose as if he’d made a mistake. “Please. Call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you replied.

Timmons turned around, ahead of you in line, and eyeballed you. You gave him a dismissive look, praying he wouldn’t butt in.

“So, you here visiting?” Bucky asked, observing the badge in your hand.

“Sorta. It’s a work thing,” you remarked, waving the plastic fob in the air. “Stark Industries has hired my firm as their PR representative. It was signing day.”

“Ah,” Bucky said, nodding in understanding.

“And I got the tour and lunch courtesy of Tony Stark,” you added.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised in interest. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You watched Bucky shake his head in agreement. “It was extremely overwhelming. How do you not get lost in this place?”

Bucky laughed. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes, yet he looked so boyish. He was beautiful.

“When I first got here, I did several times,” he huffed. “Every hallway looks exactly the same!”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I kept thanking my lucky stars that I had a tour guide!” 

Timmons rolled his eyes and pivoted, facing front.

“Steve had to draw me a map to help me find my living quarters after the third time,” Bucky confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, no!” you empathized, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “That must have been so embarrassing!”

“Bird brain caught wind of it and gave me shit for weeks,” he lamented.

You gave him a confused look, not understanding who or what he was referring to.

Realizing his mistake, Bucky corrected, “Sorry. Bird brain is Sam.”

“Because he’s Falcon?”

Bucky bobbed his head yes, looking a little sheepish.

“It’s clever,” you grinned. “I like it.”

Bucky reciprocated the smile, and your chest warmed. It was a feeling you usually felt while texting James. Light and airy.

Finally making it to the reception desk, you relinquished your security badge to the pretty blonde in the too-tight sweater set. She handed you a clipboard to initial and fill out your departure time.

While signing, you surveyed the blonde as Bucky stepped closer. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Was she giving him bedroom eyes?

A new kind of warmth flooded your body. It felt a lot like jealousy as it snaked its way up to your ribs and circled your collarbones, which was absurd because you had no claim to this man. You’d met him one other time. Why would you feel this way?

Shoving the clipboard back at the receptionist, you spun toward Bucky. He regarded her politely and nodded, “Ma’am.”

Her shoulders slumped, and a frown slithered onto her painted lips. Somehow you felt triumphant, but not sure why. Bucky hadn’t picked you over her.

Your heart thumped harder in your chest as you walked side by side with Bucky, nearing the exit. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling of apologizing. What had you told James if you ever saw Bucky again? Apologize profusely and ask him to coffee.

You smiled at Bucky once again as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The sound of a throat clearing resonated nearby. It wasn’t until you glanced up did you register Timmons standing so close. You had nearly forgotten about him.

Trying to gather your courage, you glimpsed between the two men. Bucky was squinting suspiciously at Timmons, and it made you chuckle lightly. “Easy tiger,” you assured. “That’s my boss, Roger Timmons.”

Bucky’s blue eyes widened a fraction, and he raised a hand in hello. “Sir.”

Timmons raised his chin in acknowledgment before looking down at his watch. You took it as his way of telling you to hurry up.

Okay, it’s now or never.

“Would you like to go to coffee with me?” Bucky blurted out, cheeks coloring pink.

Your eyes roamed across his handsome face. The boyishness was back, along with a touch of uncertainty. He was sweet, regardless of what the media claimed about him. Your lips curled up into a broad smile. “You read my mind,” you revealed, then winced. “That’s not one of your superpowers, is it?”

Bucky tittered. “No, no mind-reading.”

“Good,” you said, relieved.

“Whaddya say? Coffee?”

You dipped your head in a slow yes. “It’ll have to be after work, though.” You motioned over your shoulder with your thumb. “The slave driver over there is taking me back to the office to put me to work.”

Giggling, as you heard a scoff come from behind where you were standing, you reached into your purse and pulled out a pen and an old receipt. You quickly jotted down your work address. Handing it to Bucky, you began moving towards Timmons. “I get off at five,” you called. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” You waved goodbye.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t work too hard!”

You flashed him one last smile before disappearing through the exit door.

You had a coffee date with Bucky Barnes!

You couldn’t believe it! The giddiness swelled inside you.

You gazed at Timmons’ profile as you walked to the waiting car parked at the curb. He had that look on his face.

It was a long drive back to the city. There was no way you could endure it if he started up now.

You gave a stern look before you stated, “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself.”

Timmons threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Uh-huh,” you said dubiously. Timmons smiled smugly as you both climbed into the town car.

Chapter Five | Chapter 6 (part 2)

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[springalwayscomes]

Closer: Too Close (I)

Closer Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Next up: Closer: Too Close Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… closer may be too close for you to handle.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 47.5k

Content Warning: Dirty talk, swearing, pining, mentions of masturbation, masturbation, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, squirting, public sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, love making, creampie

Author’s Note: Hello, here it is!! Honestly I didn’t think I would write a second part to Closer, I felt like the end of it was the best I could give to these two, but it received so much love and when I read it again I couldn’t hold myself back, they just make me want to write more about them. Still, I consider the first part the main one, you can read that without having to read this. I would add though, that these two here just make me want to scream for the bond they have so I hope you’ll like this as well. I didn’t say the time I would publish it to feel a little more relaxed with the editing but you asked me before and I thought I’d make it on time for 1 am KST so sorry if I kept you waiting! I hope you’ll like this, and happy birthday Jungkook! Take this as a little gift💜

P.s. I hate tumblr, I had to split the story in different parts because it was too slow and apparently every post has a limit of 1000 blocks, so here you’ll be able to finish your reading:

Closer: Too Close, it’s all part of the same story!

If you want to be tagged in my taglist to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook wishes you didn’t look so beautiful. So pretty in his arms, all for him to admire as your breaths come out in soft sighs, pillowy lips so ready to be kissed. Having you like this makes his mind spin. Fuck, how lucky he must’ve been in his past life. He wonders if there you met him too, if it was in the same way, if you were the same as now. You must’ve been a nymph, surely. Or a princess, the sun, a rainbow maybe. It’s weird, how in this life you still manage to be all of that for him. 

At some point you fell asleep. In his arms, naturally and lovingly, your fingers stopped tracing patterns on his abdomen, your breath got deeper, your eyelashes fluttered shut, you nose nuzzled against his chest and all he could think about was how much he loves you. How you put the stars in his skies, how you make his world spin. And suddenly, he couldn’t sleep. Not with you beside him, your warmth around him after making love to him for the first time. He just can’t, too taken by the sight of you. 

So adorable, he scrunches his nose. So pretty. His arms wrap tighter around you, a soft and sweet kiss lays on your head and Jungkook can’t believe he finally gets to do this, have you whole. You love him. Fuck, it feels surreal. You love him, you fucking do. He’s too excited to sleep, too happy. Overwhelmed, would be the right word. 

He strokes a strand of your hair behind your ear and a second later you’re murmuring something in your sleep, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed. He giggles at your cuteness, not really understanding what you’re saying until your fingers dip into the skin of his chest.

«Koo» your voice is grumpy and low and Jungkook holds you tighter until there isn’t any space left. 

«Baby» he coos, drunk smile on his face. You’re probably dreaming, still he can’t  hold himself back.

«Love you» you murmur.

The silence in the room makes your words louder even though they came out so low. His heart thumps against his rib cage and suddenly he finds it hard to breathe. Your scent takes over him, his hands feel heavier on your skin, eyes lost on your face.

«Are you awake?» he mumbles. Your answer doesn’t come, silence still filling the air and your soft breath accompanying it. 

«Please» he whines, it’s soft and gentle and unexpectedly he’s nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.  

«Hhm» your annoyed moan makes him smile on your skin, just right before he leaves a peck on it. 

«Please» he stretches the word out, still nuzzling his nose into you. 

«Anno- ying» you groan, raspy voice. Jungkook hums as his lips stretch against you, his hands coming to stroke your hair.

«What do you want?» you mumble in your sleep.

«Sorry I woke you» he whispers. You shake your head, sleepy but holding tighter to him. 

«What is it?» 

He doesn’t know it either.

«Can’t sleep beside you» his answer makes your head shoot up, puffy eyes staring at him and view foggy.

«You want me to go to my bed?» you ask meekly. You wish you didn’t have to ask, it feels so good to sleep in his arms. Tomorrow he has to work though, and sleep is very much needed, so maybe you should go. 

«Fuck, no» he shakes his head eagerly, eyes staring right up into yours.

«Why would I want that?» 

«You said you-» you yawn «you can’t sleep beside me»

Jungkook scrunches his nose, cuteness overloaded. It makes your senses wake up just to pinch it between your fingers, his lips pouting when you do so. 

His hands travel to the back of your legs, they grab your skin lightly and he opens your left one with a soft motion, pushing himself between them for as much as he can from the position. He takes in your scent and hugs you tight, nose brushing on your clavicle.

«Not in that way» he murmurs, a soft dreamy sigh leaving his lips. Your heart clenches in your chest, now you’re even more awake. You love him so much. You wish you could stay like this all day, in bed with his hair tickling your skin and his soft breath fanning your skin. 

He hides his face against you, feels the warmth of you in his arms. 

«Feeling needy» he whines, words muffled against you and voice weak almost as he’s succumbing to your presence, cheeks reddish. He hides more into you.

«Needy?» you coo. Jungkook nods against you, literally shielding his face from your view. You stroke his hair, kiss the crown of his head. 

«You woke me up cause you’re feeling needy?» you smile.

He whines against you, lips pouting again.

«I shouldn’t have» he mumbles, slightly embarrassed. You love it, like this. Getting to see him in this way, in this state, fragile and vulnerable, all for you to take care of. It makes you smile wider.

«Why?» you breathe, your fingers slide down behind his neck. He whines again.

«Don’t make fun of me» 

«I’m not» you kiss his head.

«You can do it as much as you want» you smile.

He shakes his head against you.

«You should sleep» 

«Then let’s sleep» you fake a yawn, the tender hand that was stroking his skin comes back at your side and Jungkook wails again. 

«So annoying» he mumbles. You hold back your laughter, closing your eyes. Silence echoes in the air and for a bunch of seconds he waits for you to burst out in a melodic laugh, but you don’t, so all he can do is groan cutely, finally getting away from his hideout and poking your cheek. The roundness of it when you smile makes him scrunch his nose again, suddenly feeling the need to dive into the space do your neck again. He lays his head just there, eyelashes fluttering on your skin.

«What are you needy for?» you mumble, your hand moving back to its original place. He hums contently, shaking his head.

«Don’t know» he sighs.

«Cuddles?» you coo. You don’t care if you’re going to fall asleep at work tomorrow. You don’t give a shit, not when he’s lying in your hold and it took you so fucking much to realise that what you’re feeling in your chest isn’t just pure affection. You want to scatter love all over him and give him everything he needs, every single thing. 

«Mngh… cuddles» he echoes softly, feeling the word and the way it sounds so sweet when his mind links it your face. He nods, a peck on your neck. 

«Don’t know what I want-» he gulps «just want you close» 

Your leg wraps around his waist, another kiss on his head.

«Feeling overwhelmed» he lets out.

«Overwhelmed?» you massage his shoulders. Jungkook shivers against you and it makes you giggle silently.

«Hhm,» he hums «still not used to this»

You nod. You’re not either. You wish you could keep him in your pocket, take him to work and just feel his presence beside you for the whole day tomorrow. You need time to get used to this, to him being your person, even though he’s always been. You wish you had the whole day, you’d spend it on the couch and at home out of reach of public’s eyes, still getting used to how it feels to wrap your arms around each other with such tenderness and intimacy.

«Me neither baby» you puff. His hand gets to your back, fingers rubbing underneath his shirt on the soft skin. It makes him hold his breath, it’s shaky when it comes out. 

«Tighter» he mewls. You squeeze him, his chest against you and his nose deep into your skin, eyes closed as he lingers in the feeling. 

«Love you so much» he murmurs. 

Jungkook feels so vulnerable, like he could break anytime in your arms, like his heart is out of his chest, thumping and clenching and beating just for you, all for you. He feels exposed, totally frail and friable, even though your arms around him and your kisses on his head are the safest fort. 

«I love you» you say back. And god, he doesn’t care if you already said it a bunch of times tonight, if you’ll say it a handful tomorrow and the next day, twenty times the next week and an infinity of them for the others to come, he’ll never get used to it, never. 

You kiss his neck, your arms come on his back to relax his muscles. And suddenly, he’s squirming in your hold, shivers on his skin that make him lose his mind, all the love in his chest setting fire to his limbs. 

«What is it?» you whisper. Jungkook nuzzles against you desperately, his hands coming down on your asscheeks. He kneads the skin, squeezes it between his fingers, pushes your body more into his.

«Wanna feel you» it’s all he mumbles. 

You’re combusting, cheeks already hot and a drunk smile taking over your face, eyes glittering with love. Fuck, you do love him. So much, so deep, so effortlessly, so consumingly. You’re in every cell of his body, screaming and pleading to have you in every possible way. Your hands cup the back of his head, you pull him slightly to make him look at you, his big eyes are moist, glassy with all the intensity of what he’s feeling. 

«You make me lose it,» you exhale through your mouth «feel like I’m going to explode from how much I love you»

You see his eyebrows furrow, the emotions in his stare take over him and all he can do is smile in such a way that your mind goes blank; it’s full of love, full of tenderness, adoration, weakness. Like he gives up on himself and just drains into you and you and only you. His hand cups your cheeks, soft and gentle his fingers stroke your skin, his forehead touches against yours as the fingers of his other hand dig into your waist.

«Lose it then,» he whispers «please» totally breathless. Fuck, you do. All you can do is lose it, succumb, melt. 

Your lips push against him, your hands slide between your bodies, your digits caress his chest, nails lightly dig into his skin, so soft but firm. Jungkook hisses, his cock twitches and all he manages to do is moan and moan and moan again in your mouth. It makes you wet, desperate just like him. 

«Fuck» he whines against your lips, your pads caressing his nipple. 

«Love it when you whine like that» you breathe, your lips kissing his neck. He throws his head back, leaving you all the space you need as he shudders with his hands on your thighs. 

«So- so desperate» it’s a wail, and you can’t think straight, can’t think properly. 

Your tongue licks his clavicle, you take his nipple in your mouth, suck it just enough to make him look back at you, you have the ability to turn him into a puddle without doing anything. Your fingers link around the band of his boxers, pushing them down enough to get a hold of the skin underneath, and you can’t help but squeeze his firm asscheek in your hand, lips leaving kisses on his chest. Jungkook is out of breath already, ruts his cock against you, fully hard and begging to be inside you. 

«Clothes- bra, please» he can’t speak, doesn’t even know how to formulate a sentence properly. It makes you giggle against his abs, your eyes falling on his face. His cheeks are flushed, hair in the way, lips swollen from all the kisses you already shared. You’re so impatient that you take off your bra and your panties without even realising it, his boxers too, and a second later you’re straddling him on the bed, your core pushing against the muscle of his thigh and your hands all over him. He cups your breast, pulls you to him and cages his strong arms around you with such delicacy, as if you were made of glass. Your nipples brush against his chest and a deep moan escapes your mouth, his head spins. It’s you, it’s fucking you. The meaning of all this,  the reason of everything. You make him breathless, crazy, desperate. 

«Can’t-» he breathes hard «can’t even speak»

«It’s okay, baby» you kiss his lips.

He shakes his head, his fingers intertwine with yours and you smile against his lips as he hisses, his cock leaking precum. You feel it twitch against your belly and hell, you’re really going to lose it; seeing him like this, never anyone turned you on so much, this bad. Only him, he’s the only one. The only one that makes you think that you’d be down to do anything, to try anything with. 

«Please» he begs. Your hand wraps around him, his half lidded eyes look at you as you guide him into you, the feeling intoxicating. Jungkook throws his head back on the pillow as soon as his cockhead caresses your core, your wetness mixing with his precum as you let him enter, filling you up slowly and so incredibly good. 

He finds himself totally absorbed, rapted by the way you make him feel. Not once in his life he felt this way, loved so deeply, craved so much, there was not a single time when he felt the need to surrender to someone in this maddening, sweet and consuming way. It’s just… you. It’s your ways, your motions, your soul, the safeness he’s engulfed in when you’re with him, your love. He wants to succumb even more, get so lost that he can barely breath cause fuck, you’re the essence of everything. There’s no point if it’s not you, no meaning. 

«Love, baby- nngh, fuck» he wails. His cheeks are reddish, eyes closed shut and lips open and swollen, eyebrows contracted in pleasure as you fully take him. 

Your head spins as you move slowly, his lids open to meet your gaze and he… he never felt so loved. The way you look at him makes his chest heavier, fuller. He’ll never get used to it. His hands roam your body, his touch makes your skin fire up, every inch feels like an eternity, ink marking you of abstract emotions that could never be explained. He cups your breast and opens his legs just enough to feel more comfortable, bending them at his knees against the mattress, his breath fans your skin. Your movements pick up, your hips move more on his and the way his cock fills you up so beautifully makes you moan on top of him, the angle slightly changed from the movement of his legs. Jungkook digs his  fingers into your skin, your hand on his chest and the other supporting your weight on the bed, your hair fall at your sides and built up walls to shield you and him from the rest of the world. His eyes mark every inch of skin from your eyes to your lips, they flutter and close and then open again, dark and glittery they look at you with all the fondness and vulnerability he never showed to anyone, whines escaping his mouth and ending with nothing but dull silence and the sound of your wetness.

He pushes you more into him, chest entirely against his, nipples tight to his pecs, the feeling consuming and never enough. His arm wraps around your back again and he links his hand to yours, your full weight now against him without the support of your limb on the bed. Jungkook kisses your neck, palms your asscheek and squeezes the skin, pushes you onto him more. He shivers underneath you, the pleasure of having you so intimately makes him throb inside you with every thrust, already too close to his release, your moans in his ears and your hands travelling behind his shoulder blades. It’s needy and full of vulnerability, hands roaming each other’s bodies just for the need of having you close, closer, to get more from each other than what you’re already giving. To belong more, to love harder.

Everything is perfect, he is perfect. You wish you could have him like this everyday, every second, feel him this close forever. Jungkook’s moans vibrate against your skin, both of his hands on your ass as he moves his hips upwards meeting your movements. The pleasure is too much, it’s too good. 

Your head falls on his chest as you stop your motions, he keeps you in place with his hands on your asscheeks, cock rutting inside you slightly faster but still so fucking sweet and alluring. Your chest is bursting, heart beating so loud that you hear it in your ears, body on fire with the warmth of him, sweats mixing together. 

«Tell- tell me you love me» he whispers, a kiss lays on the crown of your head as your head is still lingering on his chest. You nod against him, kiss the ripples of the muscles between his pecs. 

«Love you, I love you» you moan. His breath seems to get even heavier, your walls pulsate around him and they make his cock feel even bigger inside you, the fullness too good to be real. 

«Love you, love every- oh my god, Jungkook» your whine makes him leak even more precum, your juices together are so slippery that the sounds in the room are totally filthy and unfiltered. 

«Love everything about you, every cell of you. Love you, love you» you breathe. Jungkook is on the edge, your words light up a fire that doesn’t seem to simmer down, the taste of his orgasm already hovers over him and your skin under his fingers burns, the fullness of his hands with your flesh makes him feel the luckiest man in the world. 

«Baby, fuck» he moan, his head falling backwards on the pillows. You raise yours, look at him to take in the expanse of his neck, eyes glued to your love. 

«When you- nngh» he shudders under you, face contracted in bliss, «when you sp-speak like tha-ath» he whines. 

You shake, you’re not really sure if it’s because of the pleasure or because of how he looks, how he sounds. He ruins you, in every way possible. He ruins you with his whines, with how much he loves you so deeply and profoundly, with all of him; you’re so fucking in love that you can’t hold it back and all you want to do is explode and fucking let him know; that you’re sorry, cause he hurt so much, cause you made him worry, that you didn’t realise sooner. That you love him, so much you can’t put it into words.

«I love you» you kiss the side of his neck, lips tracing a wet path until you get to his jaw, his chin, the mole under his lips. You don’t kiss them though, stay on them as you speak and breathe hard, moan on top of him as you lips brush against his: «Love you so much I can’t hold it. Wanna have you all for me, only me. Want you every night, every day» 

Jungkook is in a haze, his fingers dig deeper into your skin until he realises that he wants to feel more of you, so they travel on your back, one rests there and the other cups your cheek, his eyes stare at your face trying as much as he can to keep them open. You’re so beautiful, look so ethereal, so angelic.

«I want to have all of you. Wanna be your safe place, wanna be yours. Forever, never want this to end» you shiver under his gaze. And fuck, all he can do is kiss you, so deep and passionate that you both feel like you’re about to combust together. It’s too much, for the both of you. Too good, too deep, too beautiful. 

«Never wanna lose this» you breathe. Jungkook nods eagerly, he wishes he could say that yes, fuck he’d follow you in another life too, the next one and the next one afterwards, the one before this if he could go back to it. In every single one, every single version of you, every fucking time. 

«Not- not gonna hap-pen» he stumbles on his words, lips speaking against you in slow movements too taken aback from how good it feels.

«Loved you- for so long, baby. Not- not gonna lose this, ever» it’s all he manages to blurt out, your hands are staining his chest and they leave love stains that will be hard to wash away, to ever forget. 

«Kiss me, pl- please» he shudders. You lock your lips with his and Jungkook feels totally engulfed, loved all over, totally safe and sound. Your tongues slide with each other, whimpers in your mouth as he moves slowly inside you, eyes stinging even though they are shut, breaths ragged. The way he squeezes every part of you, feels his cock swollen and throbbing against your g-spot, your soft lips so lovingly, your scent all around him. Shit, the things he’d do for you. The love he wants to give, the amount he wants to take.

Your kiss makes him dive deeper, Jungkook is totally lost and exposed, every single part of him displayed for you and totally vulnerable, so ready for you to take over. You could take everything, all of him, every single part. And fuck, you do, and you make him yours. So yours that all he can do is whimper and whine in your mouth, his hips stuttering as he cums inside you, body writhing under yours, your walls squeezing him tight as you come on top of him, legs trembling with aftershocks, the wave of pleasure too much to hold back and too sweet to decline. 

He kisses you for long, even while the both of you cum your lips stay on each other, after you come down from your climax, when the feeling is still too sweet to let go. Your arms stay around each other, your skins glide and his cock is still so deep, both of your juices on the base of his length, still moving slowly. It’s so heavenly and blissful that all you want is for him to never let go, stay inside you for as much as he can. 

Jungkook keeps you close, eyes shut as you both keep exchanging love, never getting tired. When you smile against his mouth you feel his heart pound underneath you and your digits dig into his chest, his rosy cheeks waiting for you hands to cup them as you slowly part from him. Jungkook looks totally fucked out, but more from the feeling of having each other like this than the act of what you just did itself, and it makes you heart beat even louder. Not even a moment later he’s smiling as gloriously as the morning sky, lips stretching and bunny teeth showing, eyes glittering with emotions that still haven’t been described yet by words, the meaning of them too deep and heavy to just be translated in letters. 

Mondays are awful, absolute hell for who gets to spend the weekend relaxing and for those who don’t, sometimes you wonder if it’s the same for who works on Saturday too, maybe it would be better to work and relax on Sunday and have a free day during the week, like Eunji. 

Today though, it’s especially worse. Having to leave Jungkook’s arms makes your mood drop even before you’re fully awake, already craving for the evening to come. 

You wish you could stay in bed more, lay beside him and watch him sleep, hear his soft breaths and linger in the warmth of his body. He’s still naked, the memories of yesterday night still fresh and replaying in your mind, a drunk love smile invading your features and reassuring you at least a little bit. You were too into each other to even get up and dress for the night, your clothes still on the floor. You didn’t even wash and the thought makes you grimace. You need a shower, absolutely. Not before you dig your lips into his puffy cheeks though. 

His hair are all over the place, arms wrapped around you so tight that you find it hard to move, legs intertwined and holding you down, your head at the height of his chest. You move slow and try your best not to wake him up, he snores lightly and you bite your lips to hold back a giggle. He’s so beautiful that you feel like crying, you wish you could paint him suddenly. Your kiss lays on his cheek, the fullness of it makes you scrunch your nose and suddenly he’s writhing underneath you, grumpy and sleepy. You still but kiss him anyway, his arms holding you tighter. He smiles as he realises what’s happening, heart thumbing first thing in the morning. 

«Sleep more» he mumbles. His voice is raspy and low and you mentally pin to your mind that you want to spend a full morning with him in bed as soon as you can, possibly on Saturday. 

«I have to get ready» you say. Jungkook whines, shaking his head and moving his legs, he creates a cage around you with his right one, throws it over your hip and pulls you against him with the ball of his foot. He shivers when he feels your bare skin against his cock, only now realising that you’re still both naked from last night. 

«How much time do we have?» he has his eyes closed, lips pouty as he speaks.

You try to move to get a grab of his phone on his nightstand since yours is still in the clothes on the floor, but he doesn’t seem to get it and only whines at you, wrapping around you tighter.

«Let me check the time» you smile. He seems to loosen up his hold and you manage to pass his shoulder and get his phone from behind him. 

«I have to be out in thirty» you nod.

He huffs annoyed, he’s not ready to let go of you yet.

«I’ll take you» he mumbles. You shake your head.

«Sleep some more»

«Please? Let me take you» he whines and pouts and all you can do is deeply breathe in. Too cute.

«Will you make it on time?» you blurt. He beams widely, nodding yes.

«I’ll be on time,» he keeps nodding «are we taking a shower?» 

Your eyebrows furrow, his eyes are puffy as he looks at your confused expression.

«We?»

He nods again, a peck on the tip of your nose. 

«We didn’t wash last night» he explains. 

«We’re showering, but in different bathrooms» you’re already trying to free yourself from him when you speak, Jungkook’s pouty lips in deep contrast with the strength of his body as he keeps you against him. 

«Why?» he mewls. 

«We don’t have time to shower together» you huff. He shakes his head.

«It’s the same as showering on your own! We’ll be fast, I promise» 

«Jungkook, no. Let me get up» his arms loosen around you, giving you the space to free yourself. He knows that tone, very well. It leaves him taken aback though, especially in such a situation when a second before you were smiling at him. He stays still, lets you get out of the bed and looks at you as you stand up, fully naked for his eyes. You pick up your garments, check the notifications on your phone. After you’re done you turn to him, push your knee on the bed and bend towards him. The kiss you leave on his forehead makes his chest burn and fill with happiness again, his hands cupping your cheeks as he makes you still in place. He sits up and kisses your lips, a soft peck that leaves its mark on you for the rest of the day. You smile softly and a second later you’re out of his bedroom.

Your day has been awful, one of those that you want to forget, call it a day and just wake up tomorrow. You had a three hour meeting that never seemed to end, one of your clients was rude and you almost ended up throwing him your notebook, hoping to hit him right in the face. You’re not the kind of person who looses her calm easily, but he spurred you on so much that you lost it for a second, your fist thumping against the table. You had a break of twenty minutes to eat lunch and went back to your office to finish reading the papers of your next client, after waiting for him for thirty minutes you called him just to hear him say that he forgot about the appointment. Thank god it’s over, is all you can think about. 

Jungkook called you at lunch, his bubbly tone reassured you as you ate your salad, telling you how is morning went. 

Finally, you get out of the building, eyes roaming on the street for your taxi. You sigh relieved when you finally sit inside, the driver already starting the engine to take you to Taehyung’s place. The road is not really long but there’s a little bit of traffic so all you can do is stare outside and listen to the music coming from the radio until your phone rings, Jungkook’s name lights up the screen and your lips stretch in advance as you bring it to your ear.

«Kook» you call.

He beams as he keeps his eyes on the road.

«I’m coming to get you but there’s a bit of traffic. I think I’ll be there in-»

«Oh, you’re coming?» you echo.

«I booked a taxi, I’m on my way already» 

This morning he didn’t tell you he would come and pick you up from work, at lunch neither. 

«Of course I’m coming» he speaks slowly. His tone is low and he sounds definitely less bright then when you started the call. 

«You didn’t tell me» you murmur. Jungkook frowns.

«I thought it was obvious» he mumbles. He’s disappointed but all he can do for now is turn on the left and get back to the main road. 

«Are you still going to Taehyung’s?» 

«Of course» you nod. You wait for him to say something but silence fills the air and you end up staring outside once more.

«Are you mad?» you shrink in your seat.

Jungkook munches on the inside of his lips, head shaking.

«No,» he mumbles «just disappointed. I wanted to spend some time together before going»

«Oh, I’m sorry» you sigh. 

«I didn’t think about it, I just-»

«It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry» he smiles a bit. Your tone sounds low and it’s far from what he wanted for you to sound like when he called.

«Just call me next time» he smiles more.

«I will» you nod.

«I’ll be there in ten minutes I think, is there so much traffic?» you ask. The road that you’re on seems slightly more free than the one before, there are a lot of cars but it’s not too bad, you can still move without having to stop every two minutes. 

Jungkook huffs.

«A little. I guess it will take me twenty minutes at least. Are they ordering dinner or cooking?»

«Hoseok told me they want to eat pizza» you inform. 

«Can you order for me too?» he looks at the screen almost as if you could see his pouty lips.

«Do you want your usual?» 

«Yes,» he nods «I’m so hungry» 

«You ate too little at lunch» you scold. Jungkook shrugs as he finally turns around and enters the main road. 

«I wasn’t that hungry at lunch» 

«I know but you should eat enough to get you to dinner» you sing-song. 

«Ugh, so annoying» he sighs, a smile stretching on his face. You shake your head, eyes going back to the street.

«I’m almost there, see you in a bit?» 

He nods.

«Yes, I’m on the main road. See you in a bit» 

You’re about to close the call when he calls your name again.

«Y/n?» 

«Mh?» you hum. He bites on his lower lip, a bubbly feeling making its way in his chest.

«I love you» he hums back, voice soft. It comes out too hard to hold back your smile, cheeks burning.

«I love you too»

Jungkook wishes you didn’t agree to spend your evening like this. All he could think about today was how much he wanted work to end so that he could come and pick you up, go home and spend some time together. Watching a movie, cooking, laying in bed, whatever would have been fine as long as he could’ve basked in you and your presence. When he saw the messages on your group chat after lunch, he didn’t think you would say yes but after twenty minutes, your reply lit up his screen and all he could do was agree too. He didn’t want to stay home alone if he could be with you somewhere else so he didn’t have any choice left. As he stares at his reflection in the elevator though, he doesn’t look as gloomy as it sounds. His cheeks are full, a beam on his face at the thought of the reaction of your friends at the news of what happened, it makes him eager to get out from the doors and knock at the apartment.

Yoongi opens the door, Hyunjoo by his side smiling at the maknae. He takes his shoes off and lets them at the entrance, taking in the sight of the room as he greets his friends. 

«Y/n?» he asks to Jimin after Taehyung pats him on the shoulder. His friend points at the kitchen.

«In the kitchen,» he answers «she’s with Eunji» 

Jungkook nods, his friend furrows his eyebrows and pouts slightly as he nods, as to say “go and get her”. It makes Jungkook lick his lips, eyes travelling to the door of the kitchen as he shakes his head. 

«Don’t think so but-» Eunji stops talking when the door opens, her eyes scanning the intruder and then going back to the counter, she stirs something in the pan without even bowing to him, too used to each others’ presence. 

«Aren’t we getting pizza?» Jungkook asks as he comes in. She nods at him, his eyes smiling at you. 

«Didn’t feel like eating that much, I ate a lot at lunch» she answers. You chuckle softly.

«Yeah, yeah» you move your head to a beat that only you can hear «Are you beatboxing?» you laugh.

Jungkook bursts out laughing, Eunji seems to understand your joke only after a few seconds.

«Jimin tells me I speak in rhymes a lot these days» she laughs.

«Please don’t get used to it» Jungkook titters at her, stopping in the middle of the room. Eunji shakes her head, focusing on the food and he looks at you with his eyes all smiley and glittery. You find your insides melting and all you can do is smile back, getting a handful of the napkins on the counter and turning around it. You walk towards him, Jungkook is about to open his arms at you but you seem to fasten your pace and a second later you’re passing beside him like he wasn’t there in the first place. He sees you walk out of the kitchen and turn the corner, taking the napkins with you to set the table in the living room. 

He stays still for a minute, Eunji humming as she cooks totally unaware of what just happened and of his confused mind. Why would you do that? 

«When’s dinner coming?» his friend yells from in front of him. He blinks at the wall, Jin responding from the other room.

«In twenty» 

Eunji nods to herself, turning around to Jungkook.

«Can you tell Jimin to come?» she asks. He nods, not really understanding.

«Can’t you yell some more?» he teases. Eunji rolls her eyes at him.

«You’re a good friend, Jungkook» she smiles annoyingly and he just shakes his head, already strolling to the living room to get Jimin. When his friend leaves for the kitchen, he realises you’re nowhere to be seen. 

He wanders around the house for a bit, goes to the balcony, peeks into the gym space, turns in the hallway until he stops in front of the bathroom. He stills for a second pondering on what to do, maybe you’re inside? 

«Y/n?» he calls. Your hum confirms his thoughts. 

«Can I come in?» 

A second later the handle lowers and your face shows in front of him, nodding and  about to walk out. He grabs your wrist sweetly, eyes meeting yours as he stops you in place. You look taken aback, even more when he guides you inside and shuts the door behind you. 

«What are you doing?» you ask. Jungkook shakes his head.

«Did something happen?» he questions munching on the inside of his lips. You shake your head.

«Nothing happened. Why?» you ask back. He pouts in respond. 

«You didn’t greet me» he murmurs low. Your smile softens his insides as you get closer to him. 

«Poor baby» you mumble sweetly, hand cupping his cheek. 

«You wanted a kiss?» you coo. 

«Sorry, didn’t want to do it in front of Eunji» 

Jungkook’s mouth opens slightly, not really expecting your words. He doesn’t manage to answer back, your lips touch his and all he does is melt into you, the way your petals feel so soft and full, the taste of your lip balm so sweet. It’s slow and lovely, your thumb brushes against his cheek and he turns into a puddle right away, eyelashes fluttering. 

«Missed you so much» he whispers against you, your heart clenches.

«I missed you too» your hands reach his nape, you caress his head as he kisses your cheek, giggles erupting from his chest when you tickle a sweet spot behind his ear, his nose scrunching cutely. 

«Sorry about before. And the taxi. I really didn’t think-» he pecks your lips.

«It’s all fine. Don’t worry» another peck.

«I wish we stayed home tonight,» another one «wanted to cook you dinner»

«Let’s do it tomorrow?» you ask. Jungkook nods as he lets his arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you to him.

«Wait, did you come because of me?» you giggle. He nods against you, kissing the tip of your nose. You shriek when he unexpectedly grabs you by the back of your thighs, he laughs at your reaction as he places you on the sink, your knees at the sides of his waist and his hands going back to your back. 

«Sshh» he chuckles, his forefinger on his lips. You shake your head, his hands cup your face and you find yourself giggling when his lips kiss every inch of your face quickly and endlessly, pecks left on your nose, lips, chin, your cheek, your forehead. Jungkook giggles with you as he does so, just the melody of your laughter is enough to make him feel as light as a feather. 

«So pretty» he coos. 

«Stop, it’s ticklish» you giggle. He shakes his head, leaving another peck on the tip of your nose. You have to grab him by his cheeks and pull him to you to make him stop, your kiss stilling him in place, totally taken aback. For a second, he doesn’t move, his mind goes back to how worried he was yesterday at lunch when he thought he had lost his best friend. It makes him beam against you when you part and scrunch your nose at him, cutely angry for not responding the kiss. He kisses you right back, your soft and airy giggles fill up the air again as he rubs his nose against yours sharing an eskimo kiss. 

«Yes» he blurts out stilling. You raise your eyebrows confused.

«I came because of you. Why did you agree? Couldn’t we stay at home?» he whines.

«Usually we don’t go to places together if we don’t feel like it» you wonder. Jungkook parts a little.

«We don’t. But I thought- after what happened yesterday I thought-» he stutters a bit «we could stay home and- I don’t know» he looks down.

«I wanted to be with you and… don’t know, whatever would’ve been good»

«Oh» you let out. Jungkook doesn’t budge in front of you, eyes back on your face and expression a bit disappointed. 

«Baby, I’m really sorry. I suck, sorry» you murmur «I’m sorry about the taxi and before and this too. It’s just- it’s new and- I thought about staying home too and I wanted it a lot but- I don’t know, we didn’t talk about it and when Taehyung asked I just said yes out of habit. I thought you wanted to come, I should’ve-»

«Hey stop, stop» he rubs his nose against yours once more.

«It’s okay» he kisses the tip. 

«It just hurts a bit cause I thought that you didn’t want to stay home? Like- of course you would want to spend time with our friends but- after what happened I thought we both wanted to be with each other and- just-»

«I want to. I really, really want to. Really» you nod.

«I thought about you all day long. I had a shitty day and what got me through it was the thought of coming home to you. I wanted to cuddle or just do anything too. I don’t know, when he asked I just- I’m not good at this yet. Like, I don’t think I can balance our relationship yet. I’m used to us being friends and spending time like this, I didn’t think you would mind coming here cause that’s what we usually do, I said yes cause I thought you would want to come. I’m - I’m sorry» your rant comes to an end and you’re out of breath, Jungkook’s lips are fighting a smile as he tries to stay lucid for a second.

«We need to communicate better,» he sighs, the smile taking over him «definitely» he adds.

«I’ll tell you about my plans and you can tell me yours. It’s better, isn’t it?» his forehead touches yours as his arms wrap around you, he pushes himself to you, hugging you tight and never wanting to let go. You hum on his face, slightly nodding for as much as the position allows.

«So, will we do that tomorrow? Stay home?» you mumble. 

«If you want to» he breathes. You nod eagerly, parting from him.

«Thanks god, yes I want to. Wanted to stay home today too» you giggle. Jungkook loses his sanity, your essence invades every cell of him and makes them go crazy with affection.

«Do you want to leave?» he chuckles. 

«You think we could? I mean- wouldn’t it be weird?» 

«Why would it?» he kisses your cheek. You use your feet to bring him closer, wrapping your legs around him and when he looks at you his eyes are full of tenderness.

«They don’t know yet» you shrug.

«We could just be tired. And we could tell them» he whispers, his fingers brush away a hair that’s about to come in the way of your eye. You hold his wrist and stop his movement, the soft kiss that you lay on the back of his hand makes his mind weak and the way you intertwine your fingers with his it’s even worse.

«Do you really want to leave?» you ask. He raises his eyebrows.

«After dinner? We eat and go» he mumbles. It makes you laugh, it’s totally a Jungkook thing to do. 

«Never say no to pizza» you joke, his cheeks getting fuller as he stares at you with his big dark eyes.

«I would now, but Tae payed for them. It would be rude» 

«I know, I was just joking. When you’re hungry you malfunction, usually» you explain. He blows on your face faking annoyance.

«Let’s go home after we eat» you nod. He pecks your lips happily.

«Great» he chimes, bunny teeth showing from how wide he’s smiling. 

«Can I get another kiss?» 

You don’t even let him take in your actions, already pulling him to you and placing your lips on his, totally rushed and needy to feel the softness of his petals. He moans against you, your tongue slides inside his mouth and you feel like on the edge of a cliff with your heart in your throat and your senses tingling. You cradle his hair with your fingers, caress his head as you deepen the kiss, eyes closed. Jungkook feels himself getting closer to losing his hold on the world with you fitting so sweetly in his arms. If he thinks he has to let go to go back to the living room all he wants to do is lead you to the front door and get you to his car to take you home and just bask in your presence. 

He lingers in the sensation more, not ready to let go yet. 

«Baby» he whimpers against you when you slightly dig your teeth in his lower lip. 

«I love you» you murmur. 

And fuck, it makes him really lose it. His breath gets cut off, jaw clenching as he breathes in deeper. It’s so good when you say it, sounds so beautiful, so melodic. He can’t believe it’s for him, his ears to hear.

«Love you» you repeat, hands on his shoulder blades and nose bumping into his. He smiles with his eyes shut, cheeks staining of a faint shade of red as his mind gets filled with the need of having you close.

«Can- can you… do you want to…» he doesn’t end his sentence, he looks away from you as he munches on his lips nervously. The sudden shift of his behaviour makes you frown in confusion.

«What?» you coo. Jungkook shakes his head.

«Nothing, let’s go out?» he tries. He sees you, narrowing your eyes at him and trying to understand what he’s thinking about, lips contracted in the slightest scowl. 

«Love» you call. He shuts his eyes, the nickname still makes him uneasy with the emotions in his chest, all soft and mushy.

«Tell me» 

«I…» he licks his lips, «I want you» he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours again. Silence fills the air, his skin burns in worry and embarrassment with the new information he just let out, mind spinning to try and catch the slightest hint of discomfort in your features.

«Now? Here?» you’re taken aback, and Jungkook can hear it loud and clear, of course you would be. It would be better to just go back and wait for the pizza with the others, they’re probably looking for you at this point.

«I’m sorry, let’s just- go back and-»

«Come here» you smile, grabbing him by his hips and pulling him to you. His eyes widen, his body is totally limp as you keep him close.

«What do you want?» you huff happily. He breathes in through his teeth, chest feeling too tight and weary to hold back the maddening beating of his heart.

«Can’t you tell?» he exhales, slightly getting brave and pushing himself between your legs. His cock is half hard, you feel it against your trousers and god, does it do things to you. You wish you would be home already.

«Not really» you bluffer. He scoffs, the air coming out of his nose fans your face.

His hands grab the flesh of your thighs, his cheeks are still painted of a fair shade or red.

«Want you close» he hums. With you, it’s always like this, always the need of being closer. You fill all his senses, all the space, every inch of him until all he can do is crave and yearn and lose himself, trying to keep his mind lucid with little might. 

«We’re quite close» you smile. He whines and closes his eyes, so annoying. 

«Let’s just go back» he mumbles, skin burning and chest divided in two between giving up on his shyness and just tell you he wants to bury himself deep inside you and feel every inch of your skin and open the door to the outside world. 

«Please? I want to hear you say it» you mewl. Your tone makes his inner battle pointless, his digits dig into you.

«Wanna be inside you,» he breathes «feel you so close» 

It’s all you need to hear. Your lips touch his, soft petals parting for you without even having to ask for permission, totally giving up on his rationality. You hum in his mouth and smile against him and Jungkook feels himself growing harder already, you do things to him that make him bewildered. How you manage to get him hard just by doing nothing is a mystery that he doesn’t want to answer, not when you don’t mind at least. And you don’t seem to do so, cause your hand is cupping him through his trousers, and fuck, he gets as hard as a rock. The whine that he lets out in your mouth makes you just as desperate as he is, and when he ruts his hips against your hand you know that there’s no going back.

«Please» he begs. Your hands move fast, almost as if you didn’t have time to lose, cause you really don’t have it. Unbuckling his belt and then opening the button and the fly of his jeans, he watches you as your attention shifts on the garment, your lips pouty and focused and eyes fixed on your task, he really believes that he might die just from the sight of you. So beautiful, so pretty, so his. Fucking his. The thought makes him bite his lips harshly, hips stuttering against your hands. You hum a soft titter, let your eyes travel to his.

«Give me a second» you smile, pecking his lips sweetly. He nods with his mind empty, totally entranced by the feeling of your fingers linking around the band of his boxers and pushing the fabric down with his jeans, the cloths follow the curve of his hips without you even having to focus on it too much. They stay midway on his thighs and he’s already grabbing you by the back of your thighs, carefully raising you on the counter.

«Take ‘em off» he huffs. His strength makes you quiver as you unbutton your sailor pants, your heels tracing the back of his legs as you move. He holds back a moan when your hand bumps against his cockhead while you lower your zip, puts you back on the counter after you lower them a bit on your back, the position too uncomfortable to take them off. He helps you lower them on your thighs until they eventually fall on your ankles, the wide cut leg not helpful at all. And god have mercy, fuck, when he sees your panties the grunt that comes out of his throat makes you shiver, the red lace unbearable to his sanity. 

«Shit, I love them» he breathes. Your snort makes him giggle lightly and his eyes move from them to your face and then back to the material between your thighs.

«Really?» you coo. He nods fervently, lets his hand slide between your legs to cup your core from your panties, hissing through his teeth at the contact.

«Fuck, yes. I love them. I love you, you’re perfect» his sentences are rushed, he sounds almost childish before he kisses you with need, his lips against you as his other limb comes to the side of you to balance his weight while he slightly pushes you backwards. 

«Mine, mine. All mine» he wheezes. There’s the glittery glow of a feeling inside you that squeezes its presence around your clenching heart, heavy but fluttering it makes you nod with all your belief as you feel his fingers push your panties to the side. His thumb brushes against your clit and all you can do is bite your lips and try as much as you can not to moan, your arms wrapping behind his neck. Jungkook smiles, kisses you more. 

«Want you, please» you beg. He wouldn’t decline you even in another life and his cock is too hard to even think about it, it’s twitching and leaking precum and all he wants to do is mix it with your juices and make you feel good, feel you close and wrapped around him.

«Please, inside»

«Open your legs a bit» he instructs, eyes soft as he watches you do so. He lays his forehead against yours, holds his cock from the base as he pushes himself between your thighs and guides it to your entrance. His cockhead slides between your pussy lips and he can’t hold back, moans out loud and throws his head back at your softness, your juices covering him. Every time, every fucking time you make him feel helpless. You kiss the column of his neck, lower your hands on his asscheeks, squeeze his skin in your palms. 

«We need to be quiet» you whisper. He knows. Fuck, he knows but it’s too much. He doesn’t think he can do it, you’re too perfect, too good to him. He huffs a breath and looks at you, cheeks a bit reddish.

«Sorry, feels too good» he keens. Your beam makes him smile and he gets back to his ministrations with his lips getting bitten by his teeth, eyes on your face that make you want to lose your calm as he repeats to himself that he needs to stay quiet. His cock is heavy, throbbing against you and practically begging for your walls to squeeze him tight and you can’t wait to feel him closer, feel his skin against yours and his breath rough. Even as he digs into you your eyes stay on his face, his pupils into yours. 

It’s so saccharine that you feel like all the world is made of stars, of his essence, his comfort. He fills you up so good, the stretch slightly uncomfortable but always so ravishing inside you, you can feel every movement, every throb of him and your walls are so eager that they instantly tighten around him and his brain shuts down.

«Baby, if you do that- I don’t think I… shit, too good» he mewls. You take off one of  your heels with the help of the tip of your other shoe, the right one following right after. Your pants slip totally down now without the support of the shoes holding their cloth from underneath, they land in front of Jungkook’s feet and you dig your calves in the back of his legs, too eager to have him closer, your arms on his back make his chest weigh over yours until he’s as linked to you as he can, breasts pressing against him.

«God, shit. I love you» the way he blurts it out makes your breath halt, your heart flutters and shakes at the same time. He watches your lips turning into a beam, your neediness reaching peaks you didn’t think were possible. 

He moves inside you, his waist ruts against yours in little movements almost as if to part from the warmth you’re providing him would be a crime, his arms holding you up from behind your back and your shoulder blade. The position is new, the pleasure skyrocketing in such little time that the both of you are panting in quiet breaths in a matter of seconds. Having him so close supporting you as he moves slowly, his eyes on your face as you moan silently, his breath  uneven, the pleasure taking over his features, it feels like safeness. Like a shelter from the world, a new pot to grow your roots in, to bloom flowers and plant new seeds, protected and shielded by his arms and the way his fingers dig into your skin and write silent promises that only you and him can read.

«I love you too» you let out. Jungkook kisses you again, he pushes you more towards the edge of the sink with his hands and goes back to properly holding you up, lips brushing against you as he pushes inside you. The new found closeness makes you even more eager, your hands digging deeper into his asscheeks. 

«So good, feels so good» you whisper. 

«Yeah? Like this? You like it like this?» he puffs out. Your walls engulf him so good that he feels all of his might crumble, his breath ragged as he ruts inside you. You nod breathless, throwing your head back. 

Jungkook looks at your face from the mirror and even though he can’t see it all, it makes him ache more, longing for you even though you’re all for him already. It turns him crazy, overwhelmed every time, never enough. 

«So good, yes. I love it» you whine under your breath. The sounds are muffled, the only things hearable your breaths and the wet sounds coming from his cock filling you up and his balls slapping against your ass, moans soft and as quiet as possible. Jungkook drowns every second more into you, it can’t be stopped and all he can do is be honest with it and let your love take over him even as he pounds softly into you in the bathroom. Where you are doesn’t change it; what you’re doing, the way he loves you, how much he wishes he could melt into you and mix in every way possible. You test his limits, pull him along, ruin him in every way possible, it’s sweet and consuming and he only wants to have more, his hand warm as he cups your cheek and kisses you deeper, only for you. 

«Fuck. Are you really mine? All mine, only for me» he whispers. His words send you on the edge, walls pulsating around him, way too much pleasure filling up every nerve of your body.

«I promise. Only you, Jungkook» you dig your face in the crook of his neck, pressing your lips into his skin and trying to hold back your sounds for as much as you can. His movements make you bounce a little, the air seems to get thicker and heavier and the feeling of being so close pushes you over the edge, the thought of needing each other so desperately that you actually find yourself in this type of situation makes you dizzy and weak, so much that you contract around him and cum in spasms. Your body trembles as he whines out loud not able to hold back, his cum bursting out of his cock as his hand cups the back of your head and fumbles with your hair. The amount of cum he leaks seems to be unstoppable, so much that for a second he fears that it will spill out of you and spoil the sink even while he’s still on his high, his knees wobbly and his chest heavy as he holds you so tight that you feel the beat of his heart against yours. 

He stays silent, listens to your breaths uneven and feels the way your walls clench from time to time, his cock buried inside you still half hard. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself and what he’s feeling, these emotions are too much to handle, but all he knows is that the closer he gets the closer he wants to be. So he keeps you close, just like he always did for all these years but with a new intimacy in which you both linger in, totally fragile and exposed for each other. Only when his fingers trace the back of your neck you realise that your cheeks are stained with tears, eyes burning as you open them again. 

You love him, you wish there was a better word to describe it but it hasn’t been invented yet, you think there will never be one strong and heavy enough to describe what you feel for this man, your best friend and finally, your lover. You love him so deeply and without conjectures and presumptions, you love him behind words, behind actions, you just love him. So much that it’s hard to control it, you wonder how the hell didn’t you notice, how couldn’t you realise that for all these years this was already there. How is it possible, to be so blind? To have love in your pot, soul, water, roots intertwined and feel support deep in every single part of your leaves but not realise that it’s just because there’s him keeping you up with his.

«Baby» he calls, his hand strokes your back as you sniff, your nose digs into the skin of his neck. Panic takes over him, heart beating loudly and fear filling up his eyes. 

«Did I- god, did I hurt you? I’m so- fuck, I didn’t notice, I’m so sor-»

«No» you shake your head slightly, your hands hugging his back tight. 

«Nothing happened, I’m sorry» you kiss his skin.

«Just feeling overwhelmed. Keep hugging me?» you snuffle. His heart throbs, arms immediately wrapping tighter around you as the fright in his chest summers down. He breathes in your scent, massages your back, kisses your shoulders and the skin of your neck he manages to reach.

«I got you» he strokes your hair.

«I always got you» he promises. The words make you inhale deeply, your chest is on the verge of exploding but the tears on your cheeks are drying. He keeps you so close that at some point you find it hard to picture you standing to leave the bathroom, craving for his warmth even though you haven’t left it yet. 

«I love you» he rustles. You nod.

«I love you too. A fucking lot» 

It makes him guffaw and it’s so hearty and free that your heart feels like it’s getting washed and made brand new only to reach a new peak in loving him, more than before. 

His chest rumbles against yours, your giggles filling up the air too. You wonder if your friends are waiting for you, asking themselves where the hell did you go, why would you vanish away like that, if they heard anything; still, it’s too good to let go yet. Even when Jungkook places his hands on your shoulders and lightly tugs you to look you in the eyes, even when he brushes a strand away from your face, even if the overwhelming feeling summered down a little, even if he smiles at you and your chest feels lighter. 

«What do you feel?» he asks. 

«Love» it’s the only thing that comes to your mind.

«I feel love, all over and all inside and it’s overwhelming but so good. I love it, I love you» you rant. His cheeks fill up, cheekbones high and eyes made of stars. 

«I feel better,» you let him know «I think we can go?»

«Let’s get cleaned up and eat, wanna cuddle when we go home» he hums. You shake your head yes, Jungkook pecks your lips but doesn’t budge when you rest your hands on his hips.

«Koo, we need to go» you smile amused. 

«Sorry, feels good being inside you» he sighs. He guides his cock out of you, takes a good look at your pussy before closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, his chest swells up and you can’t hold back your laughter.

«That good?» 

«More than you can imagine» he laughs. 

You’re about to jump down from the sink to get a tissue when he stops you by placing his hands at your sides.

«Let me do it?» he quietly chimes. You nod shyly, the action new. Of all the times you had sex, this never happened most probably because after coming down from your highs all you did was lay just a bunch of minutes on his chest, running away the seconds right after cause it was too intimate to stay more. He didn’t get the chance to bask in these moments fully, take care of you in the way he craved for, in the way he wanted. Last night too, you were too spent to even think about washing, when he woke you up at three am feeling needy it was pretty much just the same. But now, now that he gets to do it, it makes your cheeks burn. It’s so intimate and chaste and when he lowers with the paper between his fingers all you can do is look at his expression focused, his lips pouting and eyebrows cocked, his other hand resting on your thigh. The tissue dries your juices and his, he watches as the last drop of his cum leaks out from your entrance and for a moment all he wants to do is wipe it with his finger and lead it to your mouth but he restrains himself and absorbs it with the paper instead. 

«Gonna wash you clean when we get home» he hums. You shake your head, feeling slightly tipsy with him. 

«Let’s go?» you ask. He raises up, cleans himself with another tissue as best as he can and puts his boxers back in place with his jeans, he does the same with your panties and your sailor pants, helps you zip them up and close the button when you finally stand. When you put your heels back on he lays a kiss on the crown of your head and takes you by the hand, all smiley and as soft as a cloud. He doesn’t expect you to leave his hand when he opens the door of the bathroom.

«Wait a bit?» you coo. He stands still, blinks at your face taken aback. He just nods, and a second later you’re turning around the corner.

Your friends are all over the place, Hyunjoo and Yoongi laughing with Eunji, Jimin and Taehyung drinking on the sofa and apparently not a sight of the food on the table yet.

«Dinner?» you ask. Jin’s eyes widen.

«Yah! Where were you?» he exclaims, patting your shoulder. You shrug.

«Went to the bathroom, my stomach hurt»

«Oh, did you eat well at lunch?» 

You’re about to answer him but a second later your attention gets taken by your friend on the couch.

«Jungkookah!» Taehyung yells, eyes on the younger man as he strolls into the living room.

«Where have you been?»

«Bathroom» he simply mumbles. Jin’s eyes widen by your side, lips sealed shut after he licks them and tries to hide a smile. You’re two idiots, could’ve at least make up something before coming out. Nevertheless, he pretends that he didn’t hear anything.

Your cheeks burn and suddenly you want to dig a hole and hide yourself in it.

«The delivery is running late» he informs you. You don’t really know what to do with the information, especially when your eyes meet Jungkook’s and he shies away sitting on the couch and turning to Taehyung.

The ride home is short, the traffic not a burden anymore and the music filling up the car light, your window open and the soft breeze tickles your skin just in the right way. Jungkook looks at you from time to time, a beam lighting up his features. Despite the fact that he felt a little disappointed before when you let go of his hand and acted like nothing happened between you at all for the whole time you were at your friends’ place, he doesn’t talk about it. It’s all new, fresh and you both need time to adjust to each other, he guesses. Especially with other people around. It was enough when you talked in the bathroom before. He just hopes that he will get the chance to show you affection in public too, in general. Being like you were before you faced your feelings for each other is beautiful, it makes him realise that what you have is deeper than what it seems, but he still wishes he could act like the person who loves you. 

So for now, he thinks he just wants to face what matters the most; what happens with closed doors, the things only him and you know. 

His hand caresses your thigh as he enters the parking lot, a cheeky bunny smile spreads on his lips.

«You still want to cuddle?» 

Your answer isn’t one of those that simply are made of words. No, you have to wrap your fist around his heart and make it stop beating, just to make it go crazy when it starts again. You bend over, lips smacking against his cheek loudly, the kiss one of those that usually little kids would give to their parents, playful and childish enough to turn him into a puddle. Jungkook stops the car as he’s about to park, turns around and stares you with his eyes wide open as if you had three heads. The unsettlement in his features slowly changes into realisation and then into mischief, until he huffs and decides to finish his initial ministration. He parks the car, turns down the engine, stays still and silent on his seat. Just as you’re about to open the car door, he squeezes your cheeks with his hand and smacks his lips on yours, his thumb and the rest of his fingers dig into your skin as he keeps his mouth on yours in a never ending peck. At some point your cheeks hurt with his hold and the smile trying to take over your features, until he finally lets go and breathes out the biggest “mwah” you’ve ever heard. You snort at him, make your way out of the car as he stares at you. There are just some things that never change, he thinks. 

The whole situation reminds him of when you first started to live together, that time that he was playing on his phone and you came in the way, made him lose the game just because you wanted to make ponytails with his hair, took a photo right after that still lives in your phone and told him he was cute as hell, just to leave him bewildered and alone back on the couch, still with his hair full of pinkish hair ties and his heart pounding for the compliment, the words game over on his screen perfect for describing the situation. 

«Are you coming?» you knock on his window. He wonders when will you stop looking this cute as hell, but he guesses that all he has to do is give up and fall in love with you every second more. 

Loving Jungkook comes naturally. It’s always been inside you, from the moment you met him to the moment that you realised it, in every move and action. It’s just, it’s still new. It’s fresh, and it’s weird to finally face it and bare your emotions, it’s thrilling and the rush in your veins every time you meet his eyes makes your breath stop. It’s beautiful, but it’s a bit frightening too.

You love him, god if you do. You love him with every cell of your body, you love every single fiber of him, every inch of skin, every breathtaking flaw and every curve of his soul. Getting used to it though, it’s a total different thing. He’s still your best friend, the one that you grew up with in all these years, the one that you used to tease and argue with, probably the person that you got mad with more than anyone else and the safe place that always got you in every situation, the one that reassured you when things were hard, that hugged you when some nights were too hard to bare on your own. 

And for some reason, it’s scary. Not in a dreadful way, it’s not your feelings, it’s just… you guess it’s just the whole situation. Getting to realise that now he has that space in you, that hold on your heart, that space in your life. 

«Are you going to shower?» he beams from the door, locking it shut as you take your shoes off and leave them before the stair in the entrance. You nod, feet already walking mindlessly as he does the same with his shoes. 

«Wait for me?» he mumbles, voice low and hopeful. You stop in your trucks, turning to look at him you find him munching on the inside of his lips, a habit that always made your eyes stare a bit too much. He notices, how your shoulders hang low and your eyes look away, crawling to find an escape. It makes him gulp nervously and shake his head slow. 

«Nevermind,» he breathes «I’ll shower too, do you want to- cuddle on the couch?» 

«Couch» you quietly nod. He does the same, smiling at you to let you know that don’t worry, I’ll wait if that’s what you need.

He doesn’t say it though, and he hopes that the words written in his glittery eyes are enough clear for you to catch them and make them yours. He watches you turn the corner, steps velvety on the floor and the sound of your bedroom door closing. 

He knows how upsetting it can be, to face something this big. Not upsetting in a way that makes you want to go back to where you stepped before, at least that was only for him cause he was sure as hell that you didn’t feel the same for him, but upsetting because it’s just a new space, a new realisation. So he knows, he knows that you need a bit of time cause he knows you. He knows that you adjust well in every situation, you’re pretty flexible with yourself most of the time. You adjust just good in new places, new apartments just like when you moved in together, adjust well with new people most of the time, if they’re good people. But this is something else, this is about your relationship, the shift in the air. And even though you feel attraction for each other, love deep and hard, he knows that you need to move at your pace. It was the same when you moved in, adjusting to the house itself and his presence was easy, the process of adjusting to the consequences of it a bit slower. All he can do is show you that he’s still going to be here, with his arms open wide for you and his caring eyes, just like it was before, proving that even though things changed, they really didn’t; there’s still coziness in the air, he’s still the same as before just like you. 

He showers, waits for you on the couch, makes sure that you have a bowl full of popcorns on the table and something to drink. When you come into the living room, his face lights up. You look ethereal, with your hair still a bit wet and your eyes full of sparks almost as if the shower you just had brought you back to life, even in your pyjamas you look like the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. 

«Do we have snacks?» you chime. He nods, points at the table. Your beam spurs him on, makes him feel like he just did the best thing ever. And he loves it, totally. His arms open beckoning you to him and when you launch yourself in them all he can do is laugh heartily and wrap them tightly around you. 

The night feels blissful with his arms around you, your limbs getting entangled the more time passes. You end up talking through the movie he picked, not really showing that much of interest even though it’s pretty eventful. The way he lets you lay on top of him makes you feel safe and cozy, your back against his chest and his back on the pillow of the sofa, one of his legs bent over yours and his arms keeping you warm. 

You end up falling asleep, wake up the day after in your bed, a note on your nightstand.

"You passed out from sleep last night, so I took you to bed. I didn’t know if you wanted to sleep in mine, so I figured it was better to take you to yours. I came in to say good morning but you were sleeping so cutely that I didn’t want to wake you. Aish, why are you so cute?- a laughter bursts out of your chest- I’m going to work, probably will be home around seven. I love you :D"

Good morning, you tell yourself. It’s going to be a beautiful day.

The week passes quickly, work hasn’t been too stressful beside for Monday and all you want to do tonight is come back home and just relax. At lunchtime you’re already wishing you could open the door of your house and just throw yourself on the couch with all your might, but apparently life doesn’t work that way. Your phone lights up, your father’s picture takes up all your screen and something inside you makes your senses tingle as if it was a fifth sense.

«Appa!» you call. His laughter fills up your ears.

«Oh, my baby! Are you eating well these days?» his Busan accent is thick, totally differing from yours now. It was hard to get rid of it when you came to Seoul, it was hard for Jungkook too. You smile widely, a feeling of melancholy invading your chest. 

«Yes! Actually too well, appa. I eat too much these days» you chuckle.

«How is eomma doing?»

Your father grunts: «Oh, she’s fine, always looking for something to fight me with! We argued five minutes ago but she’s singing in the kitchen as if nothing happened, I’m the only one upset» he rants.

«What went through my mind when I proposed? Aish, this woman»

His tone makes you laugh, the dynamics have always been like this in your family. Your mother is sweet, caring, but god, is she feisty. Your father is always been the calmer one, the rational one between them, saying sorry when it was needed and talking to her when she wouldn’t listen. Her personality is a lot to handle, but if you manage to find your way with her she will give you your world and even the things she doesn’t have. 

«Why did you fight?» you wonder. He huffs annoyed.

«Nothing big! I forgot the light on in the living room when I went to pee!» he laughs at the silly argument.

«She scolded me for fifteen minutes!»

«God, she’s something else» you chuckle.

Your father makes noises of agreement, hums at your words and laughs at the high note coming from the corner of the kitchen, your mother definitely isn’t a singer.

«Do you want to come for the weekend? It’s been so long since we spent some time together. I miss you» he sweetens his voice, trying to get into your heart, and here it is, what you sensed before. His invitation makes you smile and nod, even though you’re tired and craving for your couch from this morning. It’s been definitely more than three months since the last time you visited your hometown and your parents. It’s not that you don’t want to go, actually you find yourself being homesick from time to time. It’s just been pretty eventful, with everything that happened. With Jungkook, work being a pain in the ass as always. Plus, a four hours drive isn’t really that appealing, riding the train for that long neither when you know that you will be able to stay just for a little amount of time. You guess you could do that, since you really miss them and work hasn’t been that hectic this week. You have some energy to spare after having a good sleep, even for your mom’s questions. 

«Jungkook? How is he? He can come too! We can grill samgyeopsal» he exclaims excited. It’s nothing new, your father is crazy for him and your mom just shows an inch of sanity more, but it’s pretty much just the same, she hides it well. The last time that you visited together was almost eight months ago and every time you went afterwards they asked you why you didn’t bring him with you, so you guess that you could ask him.

«Oh, he’s good. He wouldn’t turn down samgyeopsal. Not in his right mind at least» you joke. 

«Ah, great! Your mom started preparing for kimjang, it’s fermenting so we’ll have kimchi too! Aigoo, I’m hungry. Yeobo!» he yells to your mother still with the phone on his ear, grimacing you part from it. 

«How much until we eat?» 

You hear your mother scolding your father and telling him to help her in the kitchen, calling him lazy ass. It makes you chuckle but silently, knowing that your father will act all lamentable.

«I’m talking to our daughter!» he yells back. 

You don’t really understand what’s happening, weird noises making their way though the microphone until your mom’s voice comes in the way.

«Aigoo, my baby! When are you coming to visit?»

«Eomma! Tomorrow I think, I’m going to call you again to let you know» you smile.

«Bring Jungkook!» she chimes. You roll your eyes.

«I’ll talk to him,» you answer «where is dad?»

«Oh, I kicked him in the ass. He has to get up and help me, he’s always sitting on the sofa» she wails.

«I will go cooking, but come tomorrow okay?» 

«Yes, eomma» you make sure to nod even though she can’t see you. She says her goodbyes and a second later the call is over, you already picture your dad’s face with a scowl as she looks at him with his phone in her hands. 

The air in Busan feels different, more fresh and fragrant, the pollution level is lower and the fine dust is less, so you breathe in and gladly take off your mask. Jungkook stands behind you with his still on his face and a beanie on his head, entirely dressed in black. His hair are getting longer and you can’t help but swoon over him a bit. 

When you told him your parents invited you home yesterday, his eyes lit up and he asked to come before you could even tell him they invited him, so it’s to no use to say that when you mentioned samgyeopsal all he did was fist the air and hum already licking his lips. Sometimes you wonder if he likes you more than meat, but you guess that he does, otherwise he would be running inside your parents’ house already at the smell coming out from the open windows.

«Aigoo, they started grilling already» he whines. 

«I told them we were about to arrive» you hum. His arm comes around your shoulder, the wide bag he brought hanging from the other side of his body. Jungkook feels happy. He loves your parents just the same as they love him, calls them mom and dad, receives their calls from time to time, when you still used to live in Busan and he would come to your place to hang out he used to have long talks with your dad and laugh about silly things. He feels joyful, ready to spend a good weekend and to enjoy the hometown that he missed so much. His family is in Japan at the moment so it’s crystal clear that your father will keep him occupied for the whole weekend, more than happy to do so. He wondered if he should be sleeping in his parent’s house yesterday but when you answered him no as if it was obvious he felt even more cheerful. You wouldn’t say that your parents are wealthy because they aren’t, but the house is big and has four bedrooms, the price was extremely low when they bought it, plus he used to sleep here practically two to three times a week when you were younger, you know that your parents don’t mind it at all. 

«My baby!» your dad’s face peeks out of the window and he yells from the kitchen with his eyes full of excitement. A bunch of seconds later he’s opening the front door and running towards you.

«Aigoo, my daughter is here!» 

«Appa, don’t scream!» you laugh as he engulfs you in one of his bear hugs. Jungkook lets go of his hold on you and watches the scene in front of him, a new wave of happiness invading his body. He bows politely to your father when he parts from you, the older man laughing at him and  wrapping his arms tightly around his figure. He stays there, with his face on his shoulder and his hand on his back, gladly taking his affection and hugging him back, eyes sparkly and cheeks full.

«I want a hug too!» your mother comes out, hair disheveled and a kitchen apron covering her cloths. She runs to you with all her speed, for a second you fear that she’ll stumble and fall over but her body is still strong and she’s still the baddest of the baddest. She pulls you to her and you feel at home, suddenly relaxed. She might be the most annoying person on the planet, but she’s the person that loves you more too. 

You guess that after you comes Jungkook, cause as soon as she hears his laughter she pats his shoulder and pulls him to her with you still in her arms, your dad having to let go of him, she squeezes the both of you and kisses both of your heads.

«Aigoo, I missed my babies so much» she wails. Jungkook snorts and let’s her do her thing, his eyes meeting yours as he smiles tenderly.

«How are your parents? Your mother called me yesterday, Japan must be fun!»

«Oh, they’re having fun» he giggles.

When you go in you don’t spend time in strolling around and place your bags in your room. The forniture is still the same, the space not that big but not small either, a poster of your favorite girl group when you were younger on the door of your wardrobe. Jungkook stops in front of the door with his bag hanging down from his hip, takes a look around with a dreamy smile on his lips.

«I missed here so much» he munches on the inside of his cheek.

«How are you feeling?» 

His hand reaches your shoulder, he squeezes it as he stands by your side.

«Good,» you hum «happy»

He doesn’t expect you to do anything, but when you wrap your arms around his waist and look at him from down his happiness reaches its peak and he finds himself spiraling.

«Are you?» 

Fuck, yes he is. A lot, a fucking lot. He missed his hometown, missed your parents, missed the warmth of the air, missed your memories together. To be here, when your relationship took such a turn makes him look back to everything, from the moment he met you and laid his eyes on you to where you are now, when you moved in together, when you used to spend your afternoons in your bedroom just because you wanted to hang out with each other, when you used to sing your hearts out to his favorite songs, every time you would end up staying up until three in the morning watching animations, all the crazy things you did together and the softest ones too. 

«Do you remember when I came in from the window cause your parents were sleeping?» he laughs already at the thought.

«You’re so dumb, woke ‘em up anyway» you shake your head.

«They even got mad. They said it looked like you were trying to rob the house»

«Your dad got mad. He probably thought we were going to sleep together» 

«It doesn’t make sense, you were here every day» you chuckle.

«They never let me sleep in your room at night» he mumbles smiley. 

«It would’ve happened anyway if that was the case» you squeeze his hip.

«Isn’t it?» he faces you with a cheeky grin.

«It wasn’t,» you shake your head and poke your tongue out at him «and we’re not just sleeping together»

«We aren’t,» he smiles more «you love me» he huffs with his eyes in a haze. The feeling you see in them it’s perfectly clear and it’s the same that makes you soften your stance.

«Tell me» he hums, voice velvety.

You seal your lips shut just to tease him and he thumps his foot on the floor, eyebrows furrowing and lips pushed forward in a pout. 

«Please?»

«I love you» 

«You- oh?» he really didn’t expect for you to give up so easily. 

«I do,» you smack his ass «now get your bags here» 

«Oh?» he doesn’t know if he should be teasing you for the way your hands still lingers on his ass or ask you what you’re talking about.

«Your bags,» you puff out «you left the other one in the car»

«Yes- yes, here like- here? In your room?» 

«If you want to?» you smile.

«Do I- like, sleep here? With you?» he asks.

This week you didn’t sleep together, he gave you the space you needed to get used to the new situation, you cuddled in his bed more than once, stayed on the couch until late, but you didn’t spend the night in his bed and neither did he in yours. 

«If you want it too» you mumble. He blinks, face empty. And then he beams, his bunny teeth showing and punching you right in the guts. 

«But- your parents» he murmurs. He doesn’t know if he should bring this up to remind you that you’re not home or if it would be better to just stay silent and play coy.

«They don’t need to know» you hug him tighter, cheek pressed to his hard chest and eyes on him, looking like the cutest being that ever walked on Earth. If looks could kill, god, this would be around one of his thousandths of lives.

«I want to sleep with you, for tonight» you plead.

Jungkook pucks his lips.

«I’ll get the bag» he peals, eyebrows up and jaw cocked up, looking satisfied and so endearingly exuberant.

Samgyeopsal is life, that’s one of the few things that both you and Jungkook agree on. Especially when it’s soft and almost melts in your mouth, still hot and accompanied by kimchi and wrapped in a leaf of lettuce. It makes the man beside you moan and close his eyes, pretty much the same as your reaction as you dip another piece into the sauce. 

«Are you feeding my daughter? She looks skinnier» your dad munches on his food, cheeks full and eyes on Jungkook. 

«Appa, I’m eating well, don’t worry» you shake your head.

«And I’m able to feed myself on my own»

The man snorts at your attitude, your mom nodding.

«I know, but it’s nice to know that there’s someone who takes care of you» 

Jungkook shifts in his seat, his smile stretching. 

«I take good care of her» he nods proudly. 

«We ate bibimbap yesterday» 

«I cooked that» you chip in, chopstick pointing at him. 

«I helped you,» he scoffs «and I make sure you have food when you come home later than me» 

«He does,» you nod «don’t worry» you look at your dad. The man gulps down, his eyes move from Jungkook’s to yours and he tilts his head slightly, a second later he’s eating again.

«Are you going out for dinner? Or do you want me to cook something in particular?» your mom butts in as she grabs another piece of meat and puts it in your dish.

«Oh, we don’t know yet,» you look at Jungkook «do you want to go out?»

«Do you?» he asks back.

«Not really»

«We can help her cook then» he tilts his head towards the woman sitting in front of you. She scoffs, grabbing the meat and wrapping it in the lettuce, her hand directed to Jungkook’s face. He stays still with his eyebrows cooked and his eyes a little bigger than usual, tongue between his teeth and lips closed.

«Open up» she orders. 

«Eomma!» you scold. The woman snorts through her teeth, the sound guttural and lamenting.

«I used to feed him when he was younger, can’t I do it now?»  she wails.

«Yah, you’re really something. Leave him alone!» your father lightly smacks her forearm and her eyes shoot bullets to his face.

«I-» Jungkook isn’t even able to start his sentence, your mom bickers back to your father.

«I’m just feeding him!» 

«Should I come in in a bit?» Jungkook whispers at your ear as you’re about to leave the living room. Your parents are happily playing cards on the carpet, no silly little squabble in sight until now, the air is light and the sky is dark. You guess that yes, it would be better, so you nod at him. He fights the urge to kiss your cheek, just smiles at you as you get up from the couch.

«I’m feeling sleepy, I think I’ll go to bed» you announce. Your mother hums at you, lifting her hand in the air in a muted request to wait as she chooses her next move with the cards. Your father looks at Jungkook.

«Do you want to play?» he asks. The man on the sofa declines quietly, a polite smile on his face. 

«I’m a bit tired too, actually» he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

«I’ll pass for tonight. Tomorrow?»

Your mom puts her card down, your father’s face lights up as he throws his card on the table.

«I won!» he cheers as he laughs at your mother’s face. She snorts and let’s her head fall backwards, her mouth shut.

«I’m going to win tomorrow too, get ready Jungkook!» 

«We’ll see» he titters. 

«Eomma, I’m going» you remind her. The woman gets up with her face still annoyed by your dad’s victory, she stumbles on her legs as she’s been sitting on the ground for almost three hours now, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek. Jungkook feels his chest swell up with happiness, the feeling bittersweet. The scene reminds him of your younger selves, your parents saying goodbye when you left for Seoul. 

«Sleep well» she chimes, patting you on your back. Your father comes too, gives you a peck on the crown of your head.

«See you tomorrow» he smiles. You wait for them to part from you before you make your way out of the living room, Jungkook’s eyes following you out of the corner. 

He waits for you to close the door of your bedroom, gets himself a glass of water, watches your parents start another round with their game, listens to your father’s story about that time that a taxi driver stole him 20,000 won. Then, he decides to stand up. 

«I’ll go too» he says. Your father nods, gets up again to pat his shoulder.

«I’ll kick your ass tomorrow» he promises. The bunny smile on Jungkook’s lips makes him pinch his cheek as he always did when he was younger, endeared by his cuteness even though he’s a full grown up man now, then goes back to his sit.

«Sleep well» your mom wishes. He nods and waves goodbye.

The path to your bedroom is silent, it only lasts a bunch of seconds but by the time he knocks at your door he’s all smiley and excited in a way that makes his heart flutter with peace and happiness. You tell him to come in, voice muffled. The handle lowers and his eyes peek into the dark room, the light on your nightstand the only thing keeping the ambience clear at least a bit, your lashes flutter from under the sheets and all he wants to do is throw himself into your bed and dive into your arms until tomorrow comes. 

«You’re sleepy for real?» he giggles. You watch him get closer and stand by the bed, he stares down at you and you reach your arms out to him. His smile is contagious, a harmonious laughter erupting from his chest as he kneels by the side of the bed, figure bent over to hide into the softness of the sheets and your arms around him. 

«I have to wash,» he keens «will you wait up? Don’t wanna sleep so soon when I’m in bed with you» he mumbles against you. You let out a content sigh.

«Go shower,» you smack his ass lightly «I’ll wait up. Be fast, please?» 

He pecks your lips quickly, his excitement throbbing out of every pore of his body. The gesture surprises you, your lips were far from his for the whole day even though you spent all the time together, so you feel a little love drunk.

«Thank you» 

He low-spiritedly parts from you, getting back on his feet and strolling out of your bedroom to go and take a shower.

When he comes back ten minutes later his hair are a little dump, his skin glowing by the nightlight and you find your breath getting stuck in your chest. You lift the sheets, invite him in without saying a word. Jungkook lays on his side, looks at you silently as if you were the most beautiful star painting the sky tonight. 

«How are you feeling?» he lowly asks. You dig your head deeper into your pillow.

«Good, I told you» you hum, getting closer to the warmth of his body. His heart sinks in his rib cage, arms hitching to hold you just as you wrap yours around his torso. Jungkook takes in the way you smell, how the perfume of your body wash is so sweet but not too strong, the way your hair seem to dance on your pillow cause the reflection of the light changes when he shifts to get closer to you. 

«I feel good too» he sighs happily.

«It feels so good to be here like this» his fingertips trace the curve of your hip, tickling your skin and making you shiver just the slightest. You hide your face in his chest.

«Did you miss it a lot?» you question.

«Sometimes,» he shrugs «we have a lot of memories here»

«We do,» you nod, look at him when one of them strikes through your mind «do you remember when you tried to prank me? You scared the shit out of me»

His laughter is so loud that you’re afraid he’s going to be heard by your parents, head falling back on the pillow and eyes shut.

«That was so funny. The face you made when you realised it was me, I-»

«I swear if you ever do that again I’m going to punch you» you shake your head, but the memory is sweet inside you. 

You were tired, worn out from your first days at your first job, sad cause you felt like you didn’t measure up. The dumbass decided to help you with your mood but apparently he and Jimin where too into it and didn’t think about the consequences of their actions. They came in before you thanks to your parents loving Jungkook way too much and waited for you in your bedroom with the lights off for almost thirty minutes. Jimin ended up falling asleep on the bed and Jungkook decided that it was funny enough to steal the gochujang from your kitchen and soul up Jimin’s shirt with it. When you came in Jungkook was sitting behind the door, a very Jungkook thing to do, and when you turned on the light you screamed so loud that your throat was sore the next day, scared to death of the red stain on your friend’s shirt. Jimin woke up, jumped on the bed, Jungkook reveling his presence only in that moment when his laughter was too much to contain. The moment in which you though you had a dead body on your bed transformed into arguing in a matter of seconds, and when you realised that Jimin wasn’t part of it you ended up getting mad at Jungkook, until you realised that he drew a penis on his forehead with the gochujang sauce. You have no freaking idea of how he did that, but somehow it was still there on his forehead and he didn’t know. 

«Some things work only once,» he laughs harder «Jimin’s face was so fucking hilarious the whole time»

«When he realised it got even worse» you can still picture it clearly, how he opened the camera of his phone and widened his eyes just to start laughing with you, his finger coming right up on his skin to get a taste of the sauce. Your Kook shakes his head, kisses your forehead.

«You pranked me too» he murmurs.

«My pranks weren’t that dreadful» 

«No, cause you preferred sticking notes to my ass» he snorts.

«I only did that once,» you raise your forefinger to his face to show him «and it was one note»

«I walked around the school with it» he whines. Citing what your sixteen years old version of you wrote; “I have a cute bum, now stop looking, thanks :D”. 

«I know baby, I’m sorry. It was so funny though» 

The warmth of his body makes you shrink into the mattress. Your eyes close while you dwell into it, the soft pads of his fingers stroking your back, his even breath, the sound of his voice when he speaks, the melody of your heart beating peacefully and steady. Jungkook notices the way your eyelashes flutter, the way you let yourself smile and hug him tighter. 

«Baby» he hums. Silence fills the air for a moment or so, you wait for him to speak but shift in his hold, face looking up at his. He’s smiling tenderly, a little dimple on his cheek accompanies his lopsided beam.

«How are you feeling? Like- I know that you’re happy, but I mean- how? With us?» 

The question makes you stare at him for a bit too much. Your thoughts intertwine and your lips crave for his to make sure that the answer is totally clear, but instead you squeeze him tighter.

«What do you mean?» 

Jungkook caresses your cheek as he speaks, his voice a bit raspy: «It can be hard- to fit into this… new thing? Like, getting to what we had before to this» 

«I’m doing fine,» you smile «sometimes it’s odd, not in a bad way though. It’s just, I feel overwhelmed and… it’s weird to get to have you in this way cause it wasn’t like this for all these years. But I love you» 

Kook munches on his lips, big doe eyes diving in yours as he takes in your answer, the roundness of his cheeks distracts you just for a second because you want to pinch them.

«I feel overwhelmed too,» he squeezes your side «you can’t get used to that» he beams again. It’s like he restores the light to the room, so bright and beautiful that the night sky looks like nothing compared, dazzling. 

«Please don’t get used to that,» his tone is pleading «it’s beautiful and I love it when you feel like that. Makes me feel so loved and I just want to wrap my arms around you and never let go»

Your heart throbs, and you think that you couldn’t even if you tried with all your might. It’s just him, his light, his night skies, his bunny teeth, his big shoulders, the way his skin feels on top of yours, how he has a hold on you that could never stop swivelling, his soul. It’s everything about him and nothing at all that makes you love him with every part of you and even though it’s new and sometimes you don’t know how to face it, it’s him and him and him only that you crave for deep at night, his arms around you and his cute lips when he speaks.

«I’m not trying to get used to that,» you hide your face into his neck, taking in the fragrance of his body wash and how sweet it is «I’m just- I’m getting used to being more, not your best friend» 

Your words make him  pout. He guides his fingers to you, raises your chin and his pupils stare deep into yours.

«You’re still my best friend» he mumbles.

«You will always be, but what we have now…» 

«I know» there’s no need for him to explain. 

«Of course I am. But there’s this too and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it»

Jungkook nods. He loves what you’re doing, how you’re communicating to him, the atmosphere of intimacy in the air. He lets go of you to prop up on his forearm, his hand supporting his face as he stares back down at your eyes, you let yourself lay on your back limp under his sight. His fingers caress the curve of your hip and Jungkook swears that not other woman in his entire lifetime as ever made him this weak, not just physically, emotionally too; so bare, so frail, so vulnerable and ready to take it all at the same time.

«Do you think that it’s going better?» he whispers, totally devoted. You shrink more into the mattress, his eyes feel like reassuring you more than looking for an answer.

«I think it is,» you nod «just slightly» 

He brushes his nose against yours, kissing the tip afterwards.

«Can I do something? Like- to help you?» he stumbles on his words. It’s weird cause a part of him just wishes you could let go and take all he has to give, everything and more and just bask in it, but he knows you. He knows that you have to find your new balance before taking it, he‘s aware that what will come after will be even more hard to handle, for him especially… cause once you’ll find your space he will lose his mind with how much every part of you belongs to him, how much of yourself you’ll give without taking back. It’s always been like this, it was the same even at the beginning of your friendship.

«No, just-» you lick your lips «just sleep with me tonight? I want you close» 

He can’t hold back from kissing your forehead, kiss the vulnerability in your voice away. His fist lifts the covers as he looks at you and smiles, a strand of hair comes in the way of his eyes.

«Come here» he whispers, moving his other hand to pull you closer from your hip. You take in a deep breath, dawdle in the feeling of his fingers as he wraps his arm around you like a few minutes ago, keeps you close until there’s no space left. 

He watches your side profile, admires the curve of your nose and the length of your lashes, the pillowy swell of your lips until he lets himself down on the cushion and his other arm comes around you too, his face in the crook of your neck and his breath on your skin. He hides from the world and just focuses on you, makes sure you feel how much he loves you, how much of him is yours. The soft pecks he lays on your neck make your lashes flutter and you push yourself more to his chest, your shoulder digging into his pecs slightly. He raises swiftly from the mattress, pecks your cheek.

«Open your arm?»

You do as he asks, stretching your arm out and waiting for him to lay down again, when he does you cup the back of his neck with it. Jungkook hums happily, decides to lay on your chest. Your breasts are the perfect pillow and the sound of your heartbeat the most beautiful lullaby, and when he hears it beat louder his smile grows even more. You like it, having him laying on you in this way. It’s sweet, caring, it makes you feel like you’re the one who’s giving love and protection to him, shelter from the world even though you both know that there’s not an ending part that isn’t receiving and giving. Your arm wraps around his back, Jungkook snuggles into you and kisses your clavicle, his leg comes over yours to intertwine them and his fingers caress your stomach as he closes his eyes.

It’s odd, how waking up next to him makes your mood shift from happy to helplessly in love to horny as hell. This man, fuck the things he does to you. You think that it’s not even possible to feel this attracted to someone, scientifically. And this time it’s not your period, hell no, you know it for sure. It’s just Jungkook and his fucking body and the way you love him so desperately. His tattoos coming out from the short sleeve of his shirt, the colours mixing with his skin to create the most breathtaking piece of art, the contrast with the other pale arm wrapped around you. At some point tonight he slipped it under your back and you feel sorry for him when he’s going to wake up because it will most probably be sore after having you on top of it for all this time. He’s still sleeping on your chest, snoring lightly from time to time with his lips coming out and the roundness of his cheeks overwhelming, squashed against you, his hair all over the place.

It’s just, you don’t know what it is, but opening your eyes to him first thing in the morning makes your fingers tingle to touch every inch of him. His broad shoulders make you salivate just at the sight. You shift slowly, trying your best to get out from under him without waking him up but his face is peacefully laying on your chest and of course, he would open his eyes at the movement. Jungkook groans and opens and closes his lips a few times, gulping down the saliva he stored in his mouth while sleeping, vision blurry as he moves and tries to take a look at you. Your eyes are already on him, the light in the room is still dim but he’s not used to it and it’s too bright for his sleepy body. All he can do is narrow his eyes, or close them almost, your face hazy but still so pretty. 

«What time is it?» he mumbles. His voice is low and raspy and somehow it makes you yearn even more.

You take a look at your phone by the nightstand. 

«Seven and ten» 

He whines and hides his face back on your chest, nose digging in the hill of your breast. You shift under him, his arms wrap tighter around you and suddenly your legs are opening and you’re pushing your hips against his thigh. Jungkook’s eyes open, puffy and still sleepy but definitely interested in your current mood.

«What was that?» he grins, first thing in the morning. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, your cheeks burn but all you really want to say is just, fuck it. Instead, you just look away. He scoffs and decides to level himself on his forearm by your side, squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and his fingers to gain your attention.

«Love» he calls. Your heart makes a somersault, your breath stops coming out. 

You whine under him for the hold he has on you with just a single word, his smile grows bigger. 

«What was that?» he asks again, voice soft and airy, a little amused.

«Nothing» you mumble. Jungkook shakes his head, he lays his face back on your body, this time in the crook of your neck. A sweet kiss, his breath on your skin, his eyelashes fluttering against you, his fingers squeezing your hip. 

«Good morning» he mumbles happy. 

«Fuck it,» you huff out «Kook, I’m-» it’s so embarrassing to say out loud «I’m feeling horny»

Jungkook breaks out in a giggle, so soft and cute that you want to hide from the world and listen to it forever, the contrast too deep with what you just revealed. He kisses your neck again but his lips are stretched and they don’t quite connect too well with your skin.

«Horny?» he echoes.

«Don’t make me say it again,» you whine «it’s so embarrassing»

«It’s not,» he sweetly caresses your hair «why?»

«It’s just… don’t know, I’m not used to tell you this type of stuff» he watches as you stare at the wall and try as best as you can not to look at him. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his thigh slowly moves back to where it was and when you feel the muscle slightly push against you you wish you could just combust.

«Get used to it,» he mutters with a big beam stretching on his face «cause I love hearing it» 

«It’s embarrassing» you mewl and cover your eyes with your hand. Jungkook shakes his head, lowers his lips to the side of your ear.

«It’s sexy,» he breathes «did I do that? Did I turn you on?» 

Just the thought makes his cock hard in his boxers. 

«You-» you gulp «yes» 

«Did I? What did I do?» he licks his lips, your hand moves away and your scoop the confidence to look at him just to find him gazing at you already.

«Nothing, just… you» you whisper cause you’re not sure that your voice is going to work right now. You see his shoulder swell as he breathes in deep, telling himself to just don’t lose his mind, the way you make him feel is just… fuck, there’s no word to describe it. 

«Just me?» he smiles, amused. Your little nod makes him clench his jaw. A second later, his lips kiss yours and it’s so fucking sweet and consuming and intimate, sexy at the same time that your body loses its hold on the world and your arms wrap around his neck. You whine on his mouth, his tongue slides inside and all you can do is surrender and let go, give up and let him consume every still working neuron in your brain.

«Do you… want to do something about it?» he hums. You can’t discern if he’s teasing you or if it’s your mind playing tricks on your embarrassment.

«Don’t tease me» you huff. He kisses your chin.

«I’m not. Not in a bad way at least,» he smiles «I’m just- the thought makes me hard» he breathes. You gulp down harshly at the information.

«Can I take care of you? Just- if you don’t want to-»

«Please, do it» your sigh cuts him off. Jungkook raises his eyebrows, stares at you to make sure that you really mean it. The last time you had sex was a week ago, at Taehyung’s house. You needed space to get used to this, even though you didn’t actually say it he understood it perfectly, and he just wants to make sure that you really mean what you’re saying.

«Are you sure?» he hums. You nod surely, squeeze his hip to make sure he understands.

«Really sure?»

«Sure, Jungkook» you dig your head into the pillow.

«Why?»

«It’s just- I want to make sure that you’re comfortable and don’t feel pressured or… I don’t know. I love you, just. Don’t wanna do something that might-»

«Love, yes. Kook, I want you to take care of me. Please? When I woke up, I don’t know… you where wrapped around me and all I could- all I craved for was your touch. I want this, please?» 

His eyes light up. Not because you just told him that you want him, but because you’re showing your vulnerability just for him, your needs, your yearning, your voice is needy and it’s for him to care for and to take care of, for him to respect and adore, worship. And he can’t wait to make you feel good, give you what you want and see you in your bare state. So he kisses you, another time. Deep and sweet, something that says I will take care of you no matter what.

And he does just that, his fingers caress every inch of your skin as they travel down your stomach, he admires the softness and the warmth of you, takes in the way you shiver for him when he reaches your hips, lays little kisses and pecks on every inch of you he manages to grasp, his hair tickle your skin and they make you shrink and shift under him, too excited to stay still. 

The covers get pulled down, he takes them with him as he takes his seat between your legs, bum on his calves and eyes back on your face. The smile he forges stops all your thoughts and suddenly you sit up and cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him so deep that he moans in your mouth, needy and surprised at the same time.

«I know that I’m- I’m slow and it takes time. I’m sorry. I just- I love you so fucking much, I wanna do things right. In the right way. Wanna love you with every part of me and every second of the day, I just need to get used to the new version of us, but fuck, I love it» you rant against him. Jungkook feels drunk, he’s afraid he’s going to fall and fall and fall and never hit the ground cause for god’s sake, the way you love him kills him in such a sweet way that he never wants to experience the way it would feel without it, ever again. It’s addicting, the worst of drugs, the deepest of falls, the most saccharine of candies.

«Don’t say sorry,» he whispers and pecks your lips «I love you. I love you and I want you to feel comfortable in everything you do. I love having you like this, but it’s something that means more. It’s not just feeling horny,» he strokes your cheek lovingly. He hopes that all of his emotions are clear to your eyes as he cups your cheeks and brings you closer to his face again.

«It’s showing it to me. Opening up and knowing that I won’t judge and just stay with you. For whatever, baby. It’s us, like it’s always been. You can show me all of yourself and fuck, I’ll be worshipping every ridge, every fucking shade. Just, let me love you right»

You never felt so fucking entangled with someone. Never. But with Jungkook, your souls are entangled, your limbs, your minds, your fucking hearts, your scents, the way you breathe. Everything melts into the other, every part of his was made to be yours and it was the same for you, cause otherwise it wouldn’t make sense. The way you feel the safest you’ve ever been wouldn’t, the way his fingers tremble slightly before they reach the hem of your shirt to push it upwards, the sound of your maddening heart wouldn’t. It doesn’t beat like it would with your first crush, with the last guy you dated, when you take care of yourself on your own. It beats in a way that you feel it deep in your intestine, in your guts, in every place. It beats sweetly, like a melody, it beats like you’re losing yourself but know that even if you don’t have control over you, his soul is going to keep you protected, loved and cared for. 

«Lay down for me?» he whispers. You smile and watch him as you rest on the mattress, he lowers himself and lays down on his chest, his feet hanging out of the bed. 

Jungkook hums in front of your core, the shirt you’re wearing is pretty big and long so you didn’t wear the rest of your home made pyjama yesterday night. He hooks his fingers around the band of your panties and you raise your hips up to make it easier for him to remove the garment. He lets it caress your skin, takes it off slowly, without any pressure. His eyes take in every inch of your skin, his digits caress your thighs and your knees in a way that causes your chest to feel heavier as he lets your panties fall on the bed just beside you. When he goes back to your center, his mouth salivates. 

«So pretty,» he coos «I love your pussy» and a second later, he’s pushing his lips against your hole, his nose pushing on your clit. You moan out loud before you can do anything about it, his eyes close and you raise your fist to keep your mouth shut. Your parents shouldn’t hear this, at all. You’d die of embarrassment only at the thought. 

He gathers your wetness on his tongue, sucks it in his mouth as his hands come to wrap around your thighs, moans on your pussy lowly at the addicting taste. 

«So sweet» he mumbles on it. 

«Is- the door locked?» you question, you have to at least before you lose your sanity. Jungkook nods on your pussy, the movement makes his nose rub against you and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs around him, it makes him moan and slurp on your wetness even more.

«Locked it when I came in yesterday» he says, kissing your lips. 

«Relax for me,» he whispers softly «let me take care of you» 

Your hand urgently reaches his on your thigh, Jungkook smiles at you and holds it, your juices glossing his lips. 

«Tell me what you want?» 

You gulp down, it’s hard to even think straight when he looks at you from between your legs.

«Want your tongue,» you nod «please»

«Where do you want it?» the way he speaks as if he’s willing to give you anything renders you breathless.

«Inside» you breathe. He doesn’t let you ask for it twice. 

He sucks on your lips just in the right way, and a second later he’s dipping his tongue in your pussy, eyes on you as the muscle works his magic inside you. He curls it and gatherers your juices again, saves the sweetness for his hungry mouth, gulps some of it down and then enters your hole again. Your hand squeeze his, his finger rub tenderly the back of it to soothe you as he starts fucking his tongue in and out. The muscle wet, controlled, firm but soft. As he moves his face to help himself his nose rubs against your clit again and god, it’s so good. So sweet, so alluring that you can’t hold back from wrapping your legs around his neck. 

Jungkook loves it, loves you, loves your pussy so fucking much that he thinks he could come free hands just by licking it, tasting your juices on his tongue, having you like this. His cock is so fucking hard that it hurts, his balls are already tight and they make him grunt on you as he fucks you slowly, the pace always the same, the one that he knows you like. He’s too hungry for you, to feel you, to have you, to cherish and worship every part of you, every single one; every irregular breath, every shiver of pleasure. He wants it to be his, every part of you. He wants you to remember this and wants you to soak your panties with your wetness when the image of him sucking on your core flashes in your mind at work, when you’re laying in bed. He wants it all, wants you to fucking lose it and give yourself to him, wants you to trust him that much. 

«Fuck, baby-» he whimpers as he squeezes your thigh «wanna make you lose it. Want you to come so fucking hard» 

You shiver under him, the pleasure building up with the pressure on your clit makes you arch your back and dig your head in the pillow, your nerves are on fire. His tongue touches your walls perfectly, strokes them as it goes in and comes back out, the tip reaches deep inside you right where you need him and it’s ecstatic. You whimper and cover your eyes cause looking at him only makes you weaker, bite your lips to hold back any sound. And then for a second, Jungkook stops his ministrations. You don’t even have the strength to peek at him, your body limp on the bed beside from your legs still wrapped around him. 

His tongue leaves your center, his nose away from you, you whine at the loss of contact but stop when you hear him grunt, his back lifting with your legs. Your hand moves away, and when you look down and see him getting back on the mattress you get a glimpse of the head of his cock, head red and hungry, so fucking hard. He breathes in deeply and dives in back in your pussy, pressing himself on the mattress. A whimper leaves his mouth and fuck, you can’t hold it back. The thought of him rubbing himself against the mattress while he fucks his tongue inside you makes you crazy, the fact that he feels so needy that he couldn’t wait more, the way you make him so hard that drives him insane. 

«Gonna cum» you try to whisper, but you’re voice comes out in a whimper and Jungkook  roots his hips harder against the sheets.

«Cum for me? Want you to smother me with your juices,» he moans so sweet that your mind links his voice to the taste of cotton candy, so velvety and light «want your wetness all over my face, fuck- I love it, love your pussy so much. I’d do anything for it, for you baby»

His remarks bring you closer to the edge, the rush in your veins seems closer and closer to its peak, ready to fall down and hit you in the best and worst way possible. Your hand reaches his hair, you fist the strands and Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, his jaw hurts for how much of his chin is glued to you  but he found care less, his breath keeps hitting your clit every time he parts just to dive in again. 

«Please» you plead. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you and all his eagerness quiets down for a second. The way you look makes his heart clench, the way you bite your lips and close your eyes, the colour of your cheeks flushed, how you squeeze your legs around him. Love is in every move he makes, it was until now too, fuck if it was, but stopping himself for a second or so, he feels like his heart is going to explode. Not only in a thrilling way, but for how much he loves you. For you and you only, for the soul under him and showing itself in its bare state, for you giving yourself to him completely. He kisses your core, decides that he wants to make it even better, give you more, make you feel more and better. His lips lock around your clit, it’s unexpected and all at once and suddenly you feel like you’re going to cry for the pleasure. His fingers push inside you, two of them hit your g-spot perfectly and he doesn’t take them out, just curls them inside you repeatedly, so good and breataking, his tongue flicks your clit up and down as he keeps sucking on it. He realises the pearl with a pop and opens his lips to lick stripe on it, just on the spot that makes you lose it, but his teeth graze it and suddenly you’re whimpering and shaking and fuck, you’re cuming under him, around him. His mind is full of you, you’re everywhere all at once and all he wants to do is fucking show you how much he loves you. Your legs wrap around him tighter and he strokes your hip to soothe you while you keep him tight to your pussy, body trembling.

He gulps down your wetness, cleans every drop and tastes your sweetness on his tongue, licks it clean until there’s nothing more for him, and even then his tongue comes inside you to get some more. He loves it, he’s fucking addicted to your sweetness, to your juices. Just the flavour makes his dick twitch and throb, balls too tight to hold back any longer. He knows he could cum just by having you like this, he just knows it.

«Koo» you call. He realises a deep breath on you, your thighs still shake around him for how sensitive you are.

«Let me help you» you coo. He licks his lips clean.

«I wanna-» he cuts himself off as he takes a deep breath, voice shaky «I wanna try something»

Your hand strokes his hair as you watch him speak, eyes glued to his face even though your mind is still hazy. He looks totally fucked out, almost as if the one who’s been on the receiving end until now, like you’re doing something to him that can’t be explained, take all of his energy and rush it to his cock, begging to be released. 

«What? What do you want?» you whisper. His cheeks colour of a reddish tint, eyes glittery looking away from your face, almost as if it’s too much to say out loud.

«Talk to me?»

Jungkook gives in as soon as your foot digs into his shoulder: «Wanna cum while tasting you on my tongue, I- just by tasting you» 

Shit. If that’s what your brain is assuming, oh god.

«You mean…»

«Hands free» he breathes, eyes back into yours. The words dig a hole into your skin and you swear that if your energy wasn’t so drained right now you’d make him do just that and ride his dick afterwards, give him more while he’s sensitive and whimpering until all he can do is cum and break out into his sweet mewls and sighs.  

«I can do that, I’m so close, baby. Just-»

«Do it,» you nod «do it for me?» 

He hopes that your parents are still sleeping or just busy cause he doesn’t think he can manage to keep his mouth shut. The way you look at him and take in every feature on his face makes him salivate. It’s sexy and it’s such a turn on to think that you make him this crazy that your wetness starts to pool your pussy again and you just want him  with his tongue covered in your juices again. Fuck, he wants it too. 

«Can I? For real?» 

You nod at him, free him of your legs just to sit up and raise his chin with your fingers. Jungkook stays there, with his chest on the mattress, ass naked and cock against the sheets, but the yearning he feels for your kiss in undeniable. 

«Why would I say no?» you smile.

«It’s sexy,» your lips brush against him as you speak «of course you can»

«It’s a bit embarrassing, actually» he scoffs.

«It isn’t,» you echo the words he said before to you «makes me crazy. The thought of me turning you on that much that you can- cum like that, fuck. It’s making me wet again» 

«Yeah?» he hums on your lips, looking for recognition. 

«Yes,» you peck him sweetly «yes, love. Don’t feel embarrassed. I would love it»

Damn, he loves you. He loves you. He just- he can’t even form a proper sentence, he just loves you. 

«Do it» you smile and all he can do is hiss through his teeth. He watches as you lay down again, your pussy pink and your wetness dripping to your asshole. Fuck, he can do that, he definitely can. His cock is hurting just at the sight. 

«Raise your hips a bit?» you ask. He nods as he shifts on the bed, weighting down on his knees and getting back down on you with his cock standing against his abdomen. Like this, there’s nothing that’s willing to provide him of some pressure, nothing to help himself with, and somehow it makes his cock throb even more cause he knows that you want him to cum just from you. You’re desperate for him as much as he is for you.

He breathes in loudly, closes his eyes as he tastes you again, tongue licking from your asshole to your cunt and sucking on the path where your juices dripped on. The taste is saccharine, the texture creamy, honey like. His cock throbs, twitches as he slurps them and wets his chin, your hands coming back on his hair only make him dip his tongue deep inside you. You’re too sensitive to let the pleasure take over you, but still you don’t move an inch. Jungkook moans and drinks down your juices, totally pussy drunk and in love with you. He feels his cock burn from how much blood is rushing to it, his skin sweating, his balls tightening so much that it makes him lose his mind and stand on the edge, helpless and needy to let go but too restricted by not really knowing how to. Until you push your hips to his face. You push your sweet fucking little pussy on his face and his cock just jerks, his balls suddenly loosen and he thanks the gods in his mind that his mouth his glued against you cause if it wasn’t for it, the noises he makes would probably wake up your neighbours and definitely your parents. His cum bursts out in more spurts, so harshly and so fucking much that he feels himself drained and all he can do is hide deeper into your core until it’s hard for him to breathe too, with his nose pushing against you and his high overpowering every part of him. The sheets get wet, his chest too, your asshole gets painted by a few drops and his heart flutters as he enters a world made of bliss and release, feeling your fingers on his cheeks and then on his neck, caressing it sweetly and reassuring him as he whimpers. 

He stays like that for a bunch of seconds, feels his cock throb and lingers in the afterglow of his orgasm, until all he craves for is your arms wrapped around him and your whispers in his ears. He digs his hands on the mattress, lifts himself up with a groan  and parts his face from your core, laying down on top of you as best as he can for the way he’s feeling now. You welcome him lovingly, your arms wrap around his bust and you stroke his hair as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck and gathers back his even breath, his heart pounds against your chest and it’s so overwhelming to have him in this state that you just shower him with all you can give. All the love you have, all the affirmations he needs to hear, all the thoughts that pass through your mind. You tell him how much you love him, how much you love when he lets go of himself like this, how you love to see him in this way, how he makes your heart flutter, what you’d be down to give just to make him smile. Jungkook whimpers when you stroke his back and kiss behind his ear, totally limp on your body. 

«I- I don’t wanna be- don’t wanna live without you» it’s a spur of the moment, but he feels his words rooted deep inside him, written clearly and with bold capital letters. Your heart gets squeezed in the same way that you squeeze him in your arms.

«Don’t wanna» he mumbles childishly. 

«Why are you saying that?» you coo sweetly.

«Just. Just to say it, I feel it» his words are muffled. He hides furthermore into you, arms wrapping around you and passing between your back and the mattress.

«Sometimes I think about it. Just the thought- don’t want it to ever happen» he wails.

«I’m here with you, baby» you kiss his neck, take in the warmth of his skin on your lips.

«I’ve got you. Always»

Going back home means getting back to waking up early and to rush not to be late, to spin around all day when you wish you were still laying in bed doing nothing. This Monday was extremely frustrating especially, after getting a taste of relaxing all day yesterday, coming back to work was hell. You spent your day strolling around a park with Jungkook and your parents, had lunch out in a restaurant, went shopping a little even. You came back to Seoul after dinner and when you arrived it was already late, you fell asleep like a baby and slept all night in your bed. Jungkook cuddled you until you fell asleep and then went back to his bed, not really sure about what you wanted cause you were too tired to even talk about it. When you woke up you felt a little disappointed to not feel him wrapped around you but you didn’t have the time to tell him cause you were already late for work since you didn’t wake up on time. You’re tired and sleepy and all you want to do is go back to your apartment, eat dinner and sleep.

«It’s tomorrow» Yoongi smiles. He and Taehyung came to visit you unexpectedly, but you don’t mind it at all. It’s almost time to go home anyway and your work hasn’t been too much today.

«Of course I’ll come!» you clap your hands excitedly. Hyunjoo and him decided to celebrate their pregnancy officially at Jin’s restaurant, you would never think about turning down their invitation.

«Jin will cook» Taehyung nods as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

«He said he’ll make something really good»

«Yah, can’t you talk about something else? That’s not what’s important now» you scold him. Your friend raises his chin and lowers his bottom lip, a habit of him that you always found endearing and cute. You squeeze his cheek.

«Of course what’s important is the baby,» he nods «but I’m looking forward to dinner too» 

Yoongi shakes his head as he scoffs: «The restaurant will be all for us, he’ll close it for tomorrow night»

«Ah, that makes me hungrier» Taehyung rubs his belly and you push him slightly as you laugh at him. His grip on you grows as he tries not to lose his balance, chuckling loudly. 

«Will you be-»

Someone knocks on your door and you cut off your words. Yoongi goes to open it, peeks out from the wood, you expect him to bow politely at whoever it is but a second later he’s opening his arms wide and Jungkook appears in all his beautiful aura. You raise your eyebrows, you were not expecting him here at all, this morning you took your car, he didn’t need to come here to give you a ride.

«Jungkookah!» Taehyung calls out. He leaves your side to hug his younger friend, Jungkook’s eyes meet yours as he lays his head on his shoulder, definitely not understanding what’s happening in your studio. 

«Why are you here?» he asks. Yoongi hits his back lightly.

«Can’t we visit her? Why are you here?» he chuckles. Jungkook shakes his head as he parts from Taehyung.

«I came to visit too» he mumbles. He finished work earlier than usual today and he wasn’t in the mood to go back home and wait for you there, so he thought that he could’ve just stopped by and wait for you to finish, steal a kiss or two and stay silent while you worked. Apparently, that’s not going to happen. 

«You’re something else,» Yoongi laughs «you were complaining all day about work but now that you’ve finished you’re here»

Jungkook’s cheeks color of a red shade as he looks at you. He talked to Yoongi a lot today, more then usual through texts at least, and here he is revealing them all. Not that he minds, after all there’s nothing wrong in it.

«Didn’t wanna go home yet,» he chuckles «thought I could stay here while you were working but apparently there’s a party I didn’t know about» 

You scoff at his words, Taehyung gets back to your side and rubs your hair in the same way you would with a pet or a child, his ministrations make you whine as you try to stop him and laugh at the same time.

«Yah, why don’t you make me do that?» he scolds.

«I asked you sometime ago but you told me I couldn’t. Jungkook can?»

You step on his foot to make him stop messing up your hair, he opens his mouth wide at the sudden burst of anger but laughs even harder.

«He didn’t ask me» you explain. Jungkook shakes his head at the side, slightly giggling.

«Cause you make me do it sometimes» he chirps in. Taehyung closes his fists and finally stops teasing you, eyebrows furrowed and lips contracted in a scowl.

«You’re the worst! How can you do this to me?» he slightly raises his voice.

«Yah, she’s working! Stop that!» Yoongi tries to look as stern as he can but his voice breaks out in a giggle too. 

«Next time I ask you you should tell me to come» your friend pats your shoulder. 

«Since we’re here, why don’t we eat together?» he goes. Your eyes widen at the request and Taehyung pouts at your reaction.

«Hyunjoo is waiting for me» Yoongi declines, eyes on Jungkook.

«Sorry hyung, but not tonight» he mumbles with a grimace. Taehyung squeezes you to his side.

«Please?» he begs with his voice all soft and pouty. You roll your eyes, he knows well how to get to you with all the years of friendship behind you. Still, you know his ways too.

«Not tonight, Tae. I’m tired. We’ll be together tomorrow»

«But tomorrow we’re all together!» he whines.

«Something chill and calm, when we’re together it’s always chaotic»

«That’s because you’re one of those who makes it chaotic» Jungkook laughs.

«Please?» he goes on, giving a sneaky glance to his younger friend. You look at Jungkook, Taehyung squeezes you so tight that you almost feel suffocated.

«These two are the worst. Let’s do it us two. Let’s go eat sushi, it’s on me» 

Taehyung is like this. Physical and endearing, your relationship has always been on the soft side, more clingy to what it’s like with the others. You’re used to it and it’s like this for you too but one of the peaks about it is that you can never say no to him, not when he pouts and asks so nicely, because you find him just so cute and adorable and you love him a lot. It’s been a while since you spent time together too, so you know that he misses you a bit, he told you about it when he texted you at lunch. You weren’t expecting to see him with Yoongi at all when he opened the door before, weren’t expecting Yoongi either.

«I hate you» you mumble. He jumps on his feet, already knowing what your answer means, Jungkook sighs deeply and lets his head fall backwards. He wishes he could tell you that he wanted to take you home and cuddle you until you felt asleep tonight too, but he knows he can’t in front of them. So all there’s left to do is let go and shut his eyes close.

«I’ll come too» he groans.

«Yah, look at him. You’re really something else» Taehyung grins.

«Let’s go»

You ate sushi. Taehyung really missed spending time with you, when you’re together by yourselves it’s different then when people are around, more calm. He missed talking to you a lot, especially since in the last months you’ve been seeing each other twice or thrice a week but every time there’s always everyone else too, so getting to spend tonight just eating peacefully and talking to his friends feels relaxing. Beside for the fact that Jungkook had a scowl on his face for the last twenty minutes.

«What’s wrong with you?» he asks as he sips from his beer. Jungkook frowns.

«What?» he echoes. 

«You’re annoyed by something» his friend points at him. You look at the man in front of you, his eyes shift to yours immediately. 

«I’m not annoyed by anything» 

«It doesn’t seem like it» you mumble. 

Jungkook shrugs.

«I’m just tired, can’t we go home?»

«Now?» Taehyung raises his eyebrows at his friend, Jungkook munches on his lips and relaxes his shoulders.

«I’m tired» he mumbles. In fact, he doesn’t look full of energy, but not as tired as he says you guess. 

«You’re getting old» Tae points at his face. 

«Too bad for you, you’re older than me» he grins. A second later your friend scoffs at his attitude and throws his arm around you.

«What do you like about him? Why are you two best friends?» he teases. Jungkook crosses his arms on the table, he stares deep into his soul with a smirk as he waits for your answer.

«You’re friends with him too, you know» you snort.

«And sometimes I ask myself the same question»

«Oh, please» Kook shakes his head. He knows that you’re both teasing him but he hoped you would cut the chase. He wishes he could just tell Taehyung the rest of the story.

«You’re annoying,» your friend raises his forefinger «touchy,» he lifts his middle finger «too noisy,»

«You are too»

«I didn’t finish;» he narrows his eyes at him.

«I’m not touchy,» Jungkook looks at you with his pupils pleading «I’m not, am I?»

You raise your eyebrows: «A little?»

He blinks outraged, face blank and eyes wide.

«Why are you taking his side? You should be with me!» he whines. 

«I love Taehyung too much» you shrug and giggle while he scoffs at the scene. Really outraged. Tae messes up your hair for the nth time today while trying to softly caress them as he would do with a puppy, making you slap his hand away. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s just to see him breathe in deeply through his nostrils, eyes staring at you as you laugh.

«What?-» Taehyung cuts your upcoming question off.

«And you talk to yourself a lot» he adds another finger. 

Jungkook sneers at the last one, he kicks him with his foot from under the table. The man wails and bends over, hands hiding under the wood to cover the injured part.

«And did I say touchy?» he keens, receiving a death stare from the other one.

«Why? It’s true!»

«Yah, stop» you shake your head at the two, patting Taehyung’s shoulder.

«Did he really hurt you?» you try not to laugh but the whole situation just makes you want to giggle out loud. Still, you keep it silent.

«He works out too much» Taehyung blubbers, bringing his head on the table to cry silently.

«Come on, it wasn’t even a kick. You’re getting old» Jungkook huffs, but a second later his face goes from annoyed to actually worried, eyes clear and lips pouty.

«Hyung, did I hurt you for real?» he cock his eyebrows and you can see the way he munches on the inside of his cheek nervously. Taehyung sighs deeply, raising his middle finger in the air. 

«Not really» he laughs. The younger lets go of a restrained breath, his shoulders fall as relief washes over him.

«You’re the worst» he mewls. Silence fills the air until Taehyung breaks out in a chuckle, you two following. Jungkook’s cheekbones are high and he wrinkles his nose as he laughs. 

«Can we go for real?» he mumbles.

«Yah!»

There’s something bothering Jungkook that both you and him can’t quite grasp. It’s feeble and velvety but his mood is slightly off and the fact that he doesn’t know what’s making it like this is even worse. What he notices though, is that it started when he came into your office yesterday and it’s been going on until now. It’s making him huff at his desk as he tries to concentrate on the contract in front of him. He read the paper again and again until he decided that it would be better if he took a break cause his brain isn’t really listening now. He takes out his phone out, scrolls through his contacts to call Yoongi and ask him about the time you’re going to meet tonight, but a second later his phone rings and your name comes up on the screen. He clicks on the green button without even thinking about it.

«Koo» you call. He smiles at your tone, fixing his position on the chair.

«Yes?» he mumbles.

«You don’t need to come pick me up tonight» 

He narrows his eyes and pouts his lips, not really understanding. This morning he gave you a ride and took you to work, you woke up late and apparently he woke up too soon and wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore, so with the excuse of that and the thought of not seeing you for the whole day he gladly and not so easily convinced you to get into his car. He doesn’t get why now you’re telling-

«Taehyung told me he’ll pick me up,» you explain «is it okay for you?»

He wrinkles his nose, eyes staring at the wall in front of him. He knows that you’re asking because last time this happened he said that he wanted to spend some time with you together before meeting the others.

«Of course» he nods.

«What time are we meeting?»

«Aish, you never check the group chat,» you scold «Yoongi sent a message this morning, it’s at seven» 

«Too many messages,» he shakes his head

«guess I’ll see you then?»

«Of course» you smile. He’s about to close the call when he hears you call him again.

«Koo?»

He hums in response.

«Is something wrong?» you question, voice sweet. He shrugs, fills his cheeks with air just to pass it from one to the other for a few times, letting it out through his lips with a sigh.

«I don’t know,» he murmurs «I’m feeling a bit annoyed but I don’t know what it is» 

You nod on the phone, putting him on speaker to lay your head on the desk.

«Does it have to do with the ride?» 

«No, it’s not that» he shakes his head no.

«I really don’t know»

«Talk to me if there’s anything wrong,» you mumble «I’ll listen»

«I know» he beams. Hearing you say that makes him feel a bit lighter.

«I love you» your voice comes out low from the microphone and it makes him lick his lips as he smiles, reassured.

«I love you too»

Jungkook is already there when you enter the restaurant, standing by Namjoon that laughs at what Jin just said he shakes his head and throws his head back. He smiles at Joon and pats his back as he responds to Jin, Hana coming by his side to kiss his cheek just for the sake of it. He lays his hand on her hip, smiles back at her before going back to their conversation. Jungkook’s eyes instantly lay on his hand that stays still around her, his mind filling up with your face and how he wishes he could just do the same naturally, without thinking too much about it. Just a second later, he hears your voice from behind him and he spins on his heels almost hitting Namjoon in his ministrations. Fucking hell, you’re breathtaking.

Yoongi did say to dress good but not totally elegant, but this, shit this is art for the eyes. You look stunning, totally gorgeous and he thinks he’s probably drooling by now. 

You hug Yoongi and Hyunjoo, he hears you tell her how beautiful she looks, you caress her bumpy belly sweetly, but fuck he doesn’t think you realise how good you look. And to think that this morning you were running all over the place saying that you were going to change your clothes at work and that you didn’t know what you got from your wardrobe cause you were running late. 

«Jungkookah,» Namjoon pushes him with his elbow slightly «you’re giving your game away. Shut your mouth at least» 

He gulps, fixes his posture. Fuck, he wishes he could tell him that you already know, there’s no point in denying it. 

«She’s so…»

«I know,» Joon pats his shoulder «but she’s still your best friend so you should go greet her, maybe?»

His words don’t seem venomous at the beginning, he just nods to himself and strolls towards you. Taehyung is by your side and greeting the others with a big boxy smile on his face, he does the same with the maknae and decides to walk over to Namjoon a second later. Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder as he would do usually, squeezes you to his side until you have to pinch his nipple to let you out of his grasp. The scowl that follows on his face doesn’t go unnoticed even by Jin and Namjoon that are standing a few meters away.

«You hurt me» he keens.

«Oh, come on, I didn’t» you scoff. The light makes your skin glow, it takes his breath away. It doesn’t matter for how many years this has been going on, his heart sings always the same melody and the tempo goes by quicker when you look at him and smile.

«When did you arrive?»

«Oh, five minutes ago» he shrugs. You nod, look at the others.

«Eunji?»

«She’s on her way with Jimin» 

Taehyung comes back to you, hooks is arm around yours and beckons you to do the same with Jungkook’s before walking towards the table to make you sit between them, he almost looks like he came out of a vintage movie with his beige wide leg pants and the satisfied smile on his lips. 

The others arrive in a bunch of minutes, Eunji and Jimin with some bags hanging by his arm, Hoseok just a few moments later dressed in colourful clothes and a beanie that probably costs more than what you and Jungkook pay for your monthly rent. 

With the table full, Jin announces the beginning of the dinner and the usual chaotic atmosphere begins, everyone talking and remembering things that make you laugh and nod every ten seconds. Jungkook notices the way you look at him from time to time, just like you always do when there are people around you. He sees how when you talk about something your eyes meet his first, how you punch his shoulder lightly when he moans too loud cause his beer is just too good.

«You did that on purpose!» Yoongi laughs.

«I didn’t! She came out of nowhere!» Hoseok points at Hana that keeps laughing uncontrollably. 

«I told you I was coming with the cake!» she can’t even speak from how much she’s laughing.

«She did» you nod as you giggle.

«Did you have to come in that moment?» Hoseok takes a sip from his drink.

«Yes, it was the moment of the cake, you were the one in the way!» 

«Aish, unbelievable» Jin shakes his head.

«You’re trying to blame us when you were the one with his mind elsewhere» 

«I didn’t do it on purp-»

«Oh, you did» Yoongi’s shoulders lift repeatedly as his chest shakes.

«I’m betting everything you have that you did it on purpose cause we had a fight ten minutes before»

Jungkook bursts out laughing: «Yah, why would you bet everything he has?» 

You cackle beside him, your head falling backwards.

«Cause he has more than me! Have you see his beanie?» the older points at Hoseok’s head.

«It’s a gift, dummy» he clicks his tongue on his palate «and I’m telling you I didn’t!»

The memory is one of those that make you titter when you think about it. It was Yoongi’s birthday and Jin gladly made his cake with so much affection, you remember that he spent the whole day working on it, it was so pretty and you could already feel it melt in your mouth. You were excited to try it cause you knew that he made it based on Yoongi’s likes that in terms of cakes are pretty similar to yours, however, you never got the chance to taste it. Hana was helping him in the kitchen and you swear you heard her say that she was going to come out with the cake but-

«Aish, you literally hit it just at the right spot to make me dig my face in it!»

That’s what happened. Hoseok turned around just as Hana was coming out of the door and he hit it with his elbow as he was turning, Yoongi was right behind him and Hana just a few centimetres away trying to pass through. The cake went upwards and Yoongi couldn’t even blink twice that he had it all over his face, face deep into the cream. 

«Yah, hajima-» Jimin is on the verge of tears «I can’t see when I laugh»

«You’re so dumb» Eunji hits his shoulder.

«What, what? I really can’t see!»

The waiters bring the food to the table, Jin slaps the ass of one of them as he puts the dishes in front of him and it makes Jimin laugh harder as the poor guy scoffs at him. He talked a lot about one of the waiters especially, said that he had a lot of potential and was a really good person, so you guess it’s him. 

A dish full of kkaennip jangajji gets placed in front of you, rice as banchan on the side, chopsticks shining. 

«I was craving this yesterday!» Hyunjoo wheezes at the sight, eyes wide as she dives down on her plate and smells it with all her might. Hana and you giggle at your friend, Eunji smiling happily at her. It’s so good to see her happy with such a little thing, sometimes she texts the girl group chat deep at night craving for things that make you wince; just four days ago she was craving for a combination that- ew, pancakes and ketchup.

Jin pats Yoongi’s shoulder.

«Yoongi made me cook it appositely» 

You don’t expect her to lift her head with that look on her face, but she does. Her eyes water and the corners of her lips lower at the look of the future father of her child.

«I love you» she sniffs, making Yoongi burst out in a laugh.

«I know, I love you too sweetie» he rubs her back lovingly «now eat, will you?»

Hoseok’s eyes are big just at the scene in front of him, totally taken aback by the sweetness between the two. Jungkook feels his inside burn as he stares down at his plate, fingers tingling just to touch you in any way possible, even a brush of his fingers on your shoulder would be enough. He wishes he could just show you the same as Yoongi does with Hyunjoo. You only smile at the two, not really noticing the way his eyes peek at you.

«Okay, I’m hungry» Jimin is the first to dig down into his meal, chopsticks grabbing the perilla leaf from his plate to wrap it around the rice. 

The table fills with giggles and snorts once more, the atmosphere is light and cozy. Your friends make it easy for you to love them, every single one. Of course they have their moments - like that time that you fought with Taehyung cause he called you four times in an hour while you were at work, or the other when Hoseok and you fought over a pen -, you have them too, but they’re like a second family, you wouldn’t want it in any other way. Your eyes meet Jungkook at the thought, almost as if he’s the bright sun behind the clouds, and you feel it rooted deep inside you, how much he means. His mouth his full, cheeks swollen as he munches on the rice but when he feels your eyes on him he turns around immediately. Even when he look like a squirrel full of almonds, you-

«Shibal, why are they like this?» Taehyung huffs loudly beside you. Your attention shifts to him, he has a big scowl on his face and he stares angrily at the perilla leaves in front of him, chopsticks trying as much as they can to separate one from the other. You scoff at him, shake your head.

Jungkook still has his eyes on you, he watches as you bring your chopsticks to the dish to grab the corner of the leaf and slide one of the sticks under it. You slowly move it from side to side to make it part from the other underneath, his eyes wide and his cheeks full like a mochi he stares as you bring it to Taehyung’s dish and place it on his rice.

Only then he gulps: «Yah!» 

Your shoulder raise frightened, head turning immediately with your heart in your throat. You see his mouth open, eyes big and eyebrows cocked in a shocked expression, Namjoon’s words echo in his ears. Now, they definitely feel venomous. 

You’re still his best friend.

«Wha- what? What happened?» you quiver.

Taehyung peeks over your shoulder, eyes glued to Jungkook’s face. Jimin and Eunji in front of you stare at the scene with their knowing expressions but they clearly don’t understand what’s happening cause no one knows the full version of the story. And Jungkook suddenly feels his stomach close up and his breath getting stuck as he looks at you.

«You- why… I can’t do this,» he shakes his head and brings his hands to his lap «I’m going out for a minute» 

His chair chimes strident as he slides it backwards, and a second later he’s walking towards the door of the restaurant with his hands by his sides and everyone looking at him. You don’t seem to remember how to breathe for a bunch of seconds. 

What happened? What-

«Oh, fuck» Jimin brings his hands on his hair, tugging at them nervously. Eunji gulps down her food, eyes on the empty spot beside you, Taehyung looks over at the door, Namjoon breathes in nervously and Jin and Hana look each other with eyes that seem to communicate words that you don’t grasp simply because you aren’t looking anywhere but at Jungkook’s dish, his chopsticks laid on the brims. 

Yoongi clears his throat, looks over at her girlfriend, Hoseok peeks at you and a second later you’re storming out of the restaurant with their eyes on you and yours already trying to see Jungkook from the glass of the door.

When it shuts behind you, Namjoon licks his lips and smiles.

«Finally, it had to happen» he nods light hearted, Yoongi scoffing as he tries to get a look of you two outside.

«Yah, give them some privacy» Taehyung scolds his hyung, Hoseok shaking his head at the group.

You can read the second part here: Closer: Too Close

Read more about Closer here: Closer

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @mianyas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @jungkookieeee97, @eysloveskoosomuch, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @spookybirstarfish, @vvicadiction, @kimchijeonjk, @suciedad-divina, @katarinamae

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

The Halfling from the Mountains Cont’d

Hey all! So I wanted to write something for Fanfic Writers’ Day, and even though it’s coming in a bit late, I decided to write a small continuation of the Mulan AU. It is almost a year exactly since I posted this little drabble, and it’s by FAR the most popular drabble I have on tumblr. Also, I really needed Kili to ask Bilbo if he “would like to stay forever.”  😆 Please enjoy.

Thorin and Bilbo had barely hobbled their way to the base of the hill before they were swarmed by allies. Healers ushered them to one of the many tents being erected on the cleanest part of the battlefield. While Bilbo only had a few bumps and bruises of little concern, Thorin was all but thrown into a cot as they tended to his foot. Bilbo was able to get one more glance at the protesting king before he was shoved down on a makeshift bench with a bowl of stew in his hands.

“Eat up, laddie. I’m afraid the hard work isn’t over just yet.” Oin instructed before leaving to tend to others.

Bilbo allowed himself the moment of peace as all the adrenaline seeped out with each bite of the bland, but very welcome food. Perhaps, truly this time, the worst was behind them.

“WHAT A MESS! WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS THE ARKENSTONE THIEF?”

Then again, perhaps not. Bilbo’s head whipped up to see a furious Dain stroll into the camp. He jumped to his feet, the stew regrettably spilling to the ground only to invite the irate dwarf’s attention. Dain immediately stalked into his direction, and for every step forward, Bilbo took one back until he bumped into someone behind him. He startled and turned to apologize only for the person to put a hand on his shoulder and gently push him behind them. Bilbo’s shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of Dwalin. Dain, on the other hand, was flummoxed.

“Stand aside.” Dain ordered. “That creature isn’t worth protecting.”

Bilbo flinched at the sheer acid in his tone. Before Dwalin could respond, his brother appeared on his other side completely blocking Bilbo from view now.

“He’s a hero.” Balin argued.

“He’s a Halfling and a thief.” Dain scoffed.

Bilbo’s jaw nearly dropped as he was suddenly surrounded by his entire company minus the Durins. Each of them with a hard glint in their eyes.

“Listen here you pompous windbag.” Bofur growled. It was the only time Bilbo ever recalled him truly angry. “I think we know our Burglar better than any here. You owe the life of your King to him.”

Dain looked about ready to spit fire as his face changed to match the color of his hair.

“HE BETRAYED MY KING AND ANY THAT DEFEND HIM ARE JUST AS BAD!”

Well that seemed to set everyone off as the Company started to yell loudly in defense of their honor, and Dain and his men continued to besmirch the hobbit’s name. Bilbo, having quite enough of such nonsense, was about ready to find some way to shut them all up when a strong voice broke through the clearing.

“SHARZA!”

Silence rang through the camp as all eyes be they man, elf, dwarf, and hobbit, turned to regard Thorin. The king’s foot was wrapped tightly yet blood still managed to seep through the bandages. Because of this, he was being supported by his two nephews, but all three managed to look regal and proud in their grimy states. Thorin’s cold eyes bore into Dain until the other dwarf dropped his head. At that point, Thorin regarded the Company and silently demanded they stand aside. Bilbo was once more exposed to the glares and curious stares of the surrounding crowd. He could kill Thorin.

“This is Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin announced in a clear voice that somehow seemed to ring for miles without being too loud.

“He was contracted by my Company of thirteen dwarves to leave his home in the Shire and burgle from a dragon. He thinks of nothing but creature comforts of good homes and good food. He was inexperienced with a blade prior to joining us, and knew nothing of how to survive in the wild and yet…”

Bilbo blinked in shock at the warm smile that split Thorin’s face.

“He has saved us all. As King, I pardon any and all crimes against his person. Master Baggins shall only ever be treated with respect on behalf of all Durin’s folk.”

If Bilbo was caught off-guard before, the sight of Thorin bowing to him nearly had him flat on his back. What made it worse was it started a domino effect as next the Company was bowing, then the rest of the dwarves, and finally the remainder of the entire Free People’s army. Even Dain, who looked like he tasted something foul, bowed in deference to his king. Bilbo wanted to scream that he wasn’t a hero! He was just a simple hobbit from the Shire, but faced with the truly humbling sight, he couldn’t find the words. Almost as if realizing his newfound conundrum, Thorin rose with a hidden twinkle in his eye before he turned to return to his tent using his sister sons as his crutch, satisfied that Bilbo would have no more difficulties. The Company patted his back or ruffled his hair. Dori even offered to stay with him if he felt unsafe, but Dain’s hasty retreat spoke volumes about any remaining troubles Bilbo would had. In a matter of seconds, he was alone once again.

“There’s seems to be an awful lot of excitement this side of the Misty Mountains.”

Almost alone. Bilbo looked up at Gandalf whose smirk somehow managed to reflect amusement and pride all at the same time.

“He didn’t have to do that.” Bilbo finally found his voice, regardless of how awe-filled it was.

“I would think Thorin has a differing opinion on the subject. You’ve done well, Bilbo. You can go home now knowing you have gone above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Hmm?” Bilbo mused, not registering Gandalf’s words.

“Why back to the Shire! You do still plan to return to Bag End, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Bilbo snapped reflexively only to flinch at the harshness of his own words. “I mean, yes, I do...I just...”

“Well,” Gandalf offered. “We have a few days. Think about it, and let me know, whatever you decide.”

***

Bilbo thought about it, but he was no closer to an answer. He had to go back to Bag End. He was a Baggins after all, but the idea of leaving his dwarves. Leaving Thorin...it left a hole in his chest that refused to be closed. He finally decided it was just the freshness of leaving his friends. A few months back in the Shire, and the pain would leave him once he was back where he belonged. Therefore, despite how much it hurt, he told Gandalf he did still intend to go home.

His dwarves did not take the news well.

Bilbo ignored the pleading eyes of the Durin princes as he finished putting away his new clothes from Dori into his pack along with trinkets from the whole Company. Well, all but Thorin. Even Dain had come by to apologize for the way he had reacted after he got the full story and left Bilbo with a rather large and impractical shield. Remarkably, Bilbo had seen neither hide nor hair of the new King Under the Mountain since his declaration to return home. 

“You could build a new home here! You don’t have to go, Mister Boggins.” Kili pleaded.

Bilbo couldn’t help smirking as he patted the dwarf on the shoulder.

“As I have said before Kili, the Shire is where I belong."

“You also belong here.” Fili added, looking oddly serious and melancholy.

Bilbo’s smile fell as he turned his back to hide how effected he was by the prince’s words.

“Me? I’m just a silly hobbit. I no more belong in a mountain than an acorn in a window garden. Now, are you going to walk me to the gate or expect me to carry all of this myself?”

Fili and Kili had many more protests for him, but in the end gathered the ornate shield and the chest bearing his company’s treasures to be loaded on Bilbo’s pony. The rest of the Company, minus their king, was gathered just as somber as Bilbo’s companions. The wizard was ready to go, and waited for Bilbo to make his goodbyes.

“Well...” He started. “T-Thank you. Thank you all for...the most amazing adventure. If you’re ever in the Shire, tea is at four...don’t bother to knock.”

That earned a weak chuckle from his friends.

“And I suppose tell Thorin that...”

His throat closed, and Bilbo had to look down at his toes to gather his courage.

“Tell Thorin...”

“Yes?”

Bilbo’s head shot up as his heart thrummed in his chest.

“Thorin!” He breathed in delight.

The king was looking much healthier if but for the dark circles under his eyes and the saddened expression.

“You’re here.” Bilbo remarked in awe.

Thorin ducked his head with a small smile. 

“I was getting your going-away gifts together.”

“Oh.”

Bilbo should have been delighted much like he was with the other Company members’ gifts. However, he had been hoping for...well, he wasn’t quite sure what. Without further ado, Thorin pulled out Bilbo’s small sword he had been rather fond of but sacrificed in desperation to rid them of the monster orc. Sting.

“I asked Prince Legolas and Captain Tauriel to try and find it. They were more than happy to assist. I hope that it reminds you of all that you’ve done for Erebor.”

He presented it to Bilbo with a small bow, and Bilbo repeated the motion happy to place the blade back in the scabbard on his hip. Even with his limited experience, it certainly made him feel better having it on his person.

“Also,” Thorin added almost eagerly. “I want you to have this.”

Letting his braid flutter lose, Thorin tugged one of the hair beads from his own raven locks and presented it to Bilbo.

“So all of Arda will know what you have done for me, a grateful and indebted king.”

Bilbo was practically trembling.

“Thorin.” He croaked. “I-I can’t...”

“Please.” The king whispered as he carefully closed Bilbo’s fingers over the bead sitting innocently on his palm. “For me.”

It was too much. Thorin looking at him like that. His too large hands still softly cradling his hand. There was only so much a respectable hobbit like Bilbo could take. Before he could stop himself, he closed his eyes and surged up onto his tiptoes as he planted a kiss on the handsome king. It was quick and chaste and breath-taking all at once. Thorin seemed equally befuddled but hopeful. Bilbo tried his hardest to ignore the cheers of the Company and the heat in his own cheeks as he gave Thorin a single nod.

“Well then...good evening.”

He turned to saddle the pony when his actions seemed to catch up to him. What exactly was he doing?! He loved Thorin. How could he leave him now? His mind struggled to process the influx of emotional information while he remained halfway on his pony, staring into the setting sun.

“Perhaps...” Gandalf finally offered, far too amused. “We got too late a start.”

Thorin picking up on the cues rushed to Bilbo’s side.

“Would you...? Would you like to stay for dinner?” He blurted much to the annoyance of their friends.

“WHAT HE MEANS IS WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?!” Kili corrected.

Everyone couldn’t help but laugh including Bilbo and Thorin. The hobbit finally returned to the present turning to Thorin with a large grin.

“I think dinner would be a lovely start.”

And Bilbo enjoyed dinner in Erebor for many years to come.

[mysterytickingegos]

Ouija Board

Pairing: Ghost!Blank x Reader (Ambiguous)

Genre: Paranormal

Word Count: 1,512

Summary: Sequel to Blank’s Winter Ficlet. After months of Blank poking at your sanity out of boredom, you bring your friends home to get their help, and someone brings a Ouija board into the mix. The day ends with you being left with more questions than answers. (There will probably be another part to this later.)

Anonymous Request: 1. Blankgameplays 2. she/her 3. Platonic/ambiguous 4. Fluff (meet cute, like Blanky Boi is 'haunting' {would you call it haunting? is he even a ghost?} reader's house) Prompt: 63 - Reader: “I don’t believe in ghosts.” Blank: *about to ruin this mans whole career* Please and thank you with extra sprinkles on top ♥ ☆ﾟ.*♥･｡ﾟ♥

Authors Note: First off, to get it out of the way, I was originally using a gif from the tumblr search option, and I removed it when asked. Even though I’ve done so, I can’t remove the reply because they blocked me before I even saw the notification. The gif you should be seeing (if it matches the image description) is one I made myself. Now, onto the important stuff- Oh my god, it is about time I got this done! I’m so sorry it took this long for me to get to it! If it helps in any way I finished this fic with idea’s on continuing it later so...you’ll probably be getting more out of your request than most!

Want to Read More?

[Image Description: A gif of Ethan (Crankgameplays) edited to be spooky with multicolored layers. He leans towards the camera and speaks ominously.]

You’d started out with nerves of steel.

Ghosts weren’t real. You knew that.

It’s an old house, and you have an overactive imagination. That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, even once it stopped making sense. But there’s only so many times you can catch things moving on their own, or you could hear that distant voice, before you started to get a little tense. So when you finally hit your limit, you turned to your friends, bringing them to the house in the hopes that they could confirm what you’d been seeing. Or not.

“Okay, before we go in, here’s the plan. We don’t talk about it.” You started, keeping Vi and Eric on the stairs. “Because I think if it knows that I told you about it, it won’t do anything. Like, try to make me look crazy.”

“You do look a little crazy right now.” Violet quipped, nudging you further up the stairs. “Come on, we get it. Act normal, pay attention, let’s get ghost hunting.”

“Ugh, please don’t call it that.” You unlocked the front door, stepping in with your friends following right behind you.

You tossed your keys onto the counter, and the sudden noise was all it took to make Eric yelp. You and Violet both turned to look at him, seeing him cover his face with his hand. “Sorry...”

You sighed, already close to giving up on this plan. You were pretty sure the so-called ghost didn’t even have to do anything. Eric was so nervous and Violet was so excited about this whole thing that they’d probably make up their own ghost story by the time you finished painting the office.

But you trudged forward, bringing them upstairs and getting to work.

You dug your speaker out of the closet, putting some decent music on and leaving it in the corner of the room. Eric pried the paint can open and Violet started lining the room with painting tape. For the first time in a long time, you were all stuck in an uncomfortable silence. waiting for something to happen.

But the day went off without a hitch. It was late in the evening when you finished painting the walls and your friends got ready to leave. “You know, if this was your way of trying to get free labor out of us, fair play to you.” Vi joked, slinging her bag over her shoulders at the door. “But honestly, I’m kind of bummed.”

You shook your head. “I swear I wasn’t, guys. I’m sorry. God, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Eric came up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey it’s alright, you can- well I mean if you want you can stay with us for-”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a small thud and a clattering sound coming from the room right above you, the office. All three of you looked up at the ceiling, then at each other, before making a quick pace back upstairs. You flicked the light back on to see that the half-empty bucket of paint you’d left was now on it’s side, and the color of the floor now matched the walls.

“...Dude, this thing is an asshole.” Vi said bluntly, earning a quiet plea from Eric not to make it mad.

“I knew it! I told you! There’s no way this shit just happens, right?” Despite the fact your floor was ruined, you couldn’t help but get excited. “I mean it’s ridiculous but this happens all the time.”

“Okay, this is going to get even cooler, beeecause...” Vi grinned, pulling her bag back around and digging through it until she found what she was looking for, something wrapped in a beige cloth. “Guess what I brought.”

You watched her unwrap what turned out to be a planchette, which had been wrapped in what turned out to be a cloth Ouija board. Eric coughed nervously, taking a small step back towards the stairs, “I actually uh..I can’t stay, I sort of have a-a doctors appointment! Yeah, that. That’s what I have to get to.”

“It’s seven at night.”

“Yeah, um...it’s therapy. You know, they stay open late and...yeah.” And with that Eric excused himself from any further ‘ghost hunting,’ fleeing out the front door. Before you could also object to the idea of talking to the ghost, Vi grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the living room.

“Do you have any candles?” She asked, kneeling down on the floor and spreading out the Ouija board.

“I have a couple scented candles we could light, I guess...” You shrugged and went around collecting them. You started to say something more but stopped to rethink it. This was ridiculous. Lighting candles for a ouijia board? Acknowledging any of this ghost nonsense felt silly enough to you, just a couple months ago stuff like this was all a big joke to you. But what other explanation could there be for everything you had experienced? Maybe you should have done a bit more research, set up a camera or-

“Y/n?” Vi called out from the floor, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Swallowing your pride, you brought the candles and a matchbox over and kneeled across from her. “So since when are you interested in all this, anyway?”

“What, ghosts and stuff?” She stayed quiet for a moment as she helped you set the candles up on either side of the two of you. “I dunno, I guess I’m just starting to notice that maybe...things aren’t as they seem. Kind of like you. But I actually find it fun. So, are you ready to do this?”

You nodded. “I guess so...” Placing your fingers on the planchette, you took a deep breathe before you started. “Hello?”

“Hello? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Shush.”

“I’m just saying, maybe-” “It’s my house that’s haunted so-”

HELLO

You both fell silent again, glancing up at each other. She looked like she might explode from excitement and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Then, you kept going. “My name is Y/n, this is my friend Violet.”

I  K N O W

“What’s your name?”

The planchette began to move again, but this time rather than settle on any letters or even move towards ‘No,’ it moved to a blank patch of the cloth.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you waited for any movement, but it didn’t come. “Do you have a name?”

D O  N O T  R E M E M B E R

‘Oh.’ You felt a pang in your heart at that.

Vi pouted a little, her head tilting to the side. She was the next to ask something. “What are you?”

G H O S T

“Alright-”

M A Y B E

“...Maybe?”

D O  N O T  R E M E M B E R

Chills ran down your spine. That was not a comforting thought. “Is there anything else in the house with us?”

NO

“You’ve really been scaring my friend, you know.” Vi said, looking cautiously around the room as she spoke.

I  K N O W

It took everything you had to keep your shaking hands on the planchette. “Do you want me to leave?”

Nothing happened. You waited, your heart pounding out of your chest. The sun had officially set, making the house pitch black aside from your little pocket of candlelight. You could almost make out a shadow over the board, it’s source seemingly coming from behind you. You didn’t dare mention it. “Do you want to be alone here again? Because I’d understand that.”

Even more dead silence.

Violet let out a sharp sigh, taking one hand off the planchette, despite your objection, to rub her temple. “Are you still there?”

YES

“I just want to understand why you’re doing this.” You said, much quieter than you meant.

S O R R Y

“You’re sorry?”

S T A Y

“But...what?”

You and Violet sat there for another thirty minutes, asking questions and waiting for answers that never came. The spirit was apparently done talking. “Alright, well...” Violet stood up, putting her bag back on.

“What? Wait, I don’t get any of this. What do I do?” You began to panic, not entirely sure if you should be leaving the board yet.

“You can have the board, keep trying tomorrow, I don’t know. Look-” Her tone was coming off uncharacteristically harsh now, as she avoided your eyes. “My head is splitting, think it’s all the candle fumes. I’m gonna breeze off, good luck though.”

You squinted at the door when it hit you what she said. "Breeze off?” Shaking it off, you turned your attention back to your unusual roommate. “Okay, I’m going to call it a night I guess. I have paint to clean up so,” You moved the planchette to ‘Goodbye,’ taking your hands off and being seconds away from blowing out the candles when it moved all on it’s own.

G O O D N I G H T

[sonicasura]

Balan Wonderworld Review - Favorite Costumes Part 1

I have officially beat the game with every single Gold Balan Statue in every level, got the Balan Costume, got all the main game costumes and the latest section of the Tower of Tims that I need to unlock being the sixth section.

I had quite a ball playing the game despite Square Enix being backstabbers to Balan Company and the game. Now, this huge ass review will split into different categories and will have their own page. These categories are:

Favorite Costumes

Level Design and Level Music

Boss and Boss Music

Now, these picks will be my personal opinion. I'm starting with costumes because it's probably the hardest out of these to choose from since every costume has incredible designs to them.

There will be two picks for each Chapter: a Common Costume and a Rare Costume.

Common Costumes are those you can easily find in each act. If you can find them in multiple spots in one act or they can seen im both acts then they count as common.

Rare Costumes are ones you have to go the extra length to find. Some are hidden while others require certain costumes to get.

The Balan Costume isn't being counted for obvious reasons. It is the only costume found on the Isle of Tims and it's requirements are staggering.

How To Get Balan Costume

First you need to feed the Tim Statue on the isle a certain amount of Rainbow Drops. Once it's full, you need to get a white Crowned Tim. This very Tim can be acquired by getting Tims with three badges.

A Tim can get a badge for consuming the equivalent of 30 Tim Drops(3 large drops) in either blue, pink or red colors. You need at least 2 Tims with all 3 badges and then breed them together. It is trial and error so I suggest getting multiple Tims with badges but also exit the game if ya fail to get a white Crowned Tim.

Once you have the Tim, do a level and it should be the proper size to pick up. Throw it at the statue and it will become the Father Tim. That big Tim will fly you up to the costume so you can get. If ya lose the costume, then give the Father Tim more Rainbow Drops. Rainbow Drops can be given by redoing stages, bosses or Tim Statues scattered about the levels.

Now let's get started.

Chapter 1

Common Costume: Tornado Wolf

An obvious choice for me. Wolves are one of my favorite animals and werewolves being one of my favorite mythological creatures. Tornado Wolf can be found in Act 1 and in the Boss Level. A simple jump engulfs the player in a mini tornado that can reflect wind projectiles and break blocks.

Powerful, agile and cute plus Tornado Wolf just gives me Werehog nostalgia since I'm a Sonic Unleashed fan.

Rare Costume: Jumping Jack

You can't just give me an adorable kangaroo and one of the better costumes when it's comes to movement. Jumping Jack can only be found in Act 1 so it's actually rare. This costume allows the player to do a flutter jump, great for getting extra air, reaching slightly far platforms and a decent recovery.

It's a costume I suggest stocking up on since you can't get the better mobility options until Chapter 6 Act 2. Also love there's a plushie in the pouch and the white patches of fur. Kangaroo are marsupials who do carry young in their pouches, and the silver tufts just add extra charm to the design.

Chapter 2

Common Costume: Jelly Jolt

Very useful! The Jelly Jolt is the perfect costume when it comes to electric resistance and make enemies stay five feet away while you shock them to hell. Can be found in Act 1 and the Boss Act. First time seeing an adorable jellyfish that actually doesn't mean harm.

Jellicent, Frillish, and Healslimes don't count considering the former have a habit of wrecking ships and the latter is a pain in the ass in boss fights or tough opponents. Also, all of these attack you! Case in point.

Rare Costume: Double Jumper

Definite pick for many reasons. This costume can only be found in Act 2 and requires the Fixer Upper Costume in Chapter 12 or the Frost Fairy Costume in Chapter 8(harder difficulty for reaching it).

It allows you to double jump, a godsend when it comes to reaching Balan Statues, costumes, recovery and careful platforming. You can get some major air with this costume and makes backtracking for certain levels easier.

I love the demonic imp design too. Imps are agile and mischievous creatures after all. Just like the basis, this costume is difficult to grab like the imp.

Chapter 3

Common Costume: Sickle Slicer

Slickle Slicer are one of your first go-to for fighting spiked enemies. This costume can be found in Act 2 and the Boss Act, it allows you to throw sickles that act like a boomerang. If you do a combo, these sickles can go farther than their already decent range.

The design is a very nice touch since the praying mantis can be considered a high level predator amongst insects. The costume is quite agile which helps in a pinch against fast opponents.

Rare Costume Itsy Bitsy Elf

A mini chinchilla perfect for tiny doors. Costume can only be found in Act 2 and takes some careful platforming to get. Suggest using the Jumping Jack costume if you don't want to wait for the better option in Chapter 6. This costume lets you enter tiny doors that often hold Balan Statues or Balan Bout inside. Very adorable, very fast (probably second fastest in the main story) and super fun.

Chapter 4

Common Costume: Aero Acrobat

Holy Balloon Popping Batman! This costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. It allows you to pop balloons and even jump kick enemies caught in the crosshair. Balloons are scattered about in various levels and this guy is a great option of transport to reach these specific areas.

The aviator outfit makes it even better and I love bats. Probably my favorite flying mammal of the bunch since I often have a bat ally in games like Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, a Crobat for hunting escape happy Legendaries in Pokemon and Hidabat in Yokai Watch.

Rare Costume: Happy Horn

My first performing costume. It can be found in Act 2 and performs on special stage platforms scattered throughout chapters. A good way to gain some extra drops and hear a different version of stage clear. Not only is the costume charming, this is the first time I actually like listening to a marching band.

Chapter 5

Common Costume: Guardian Bird

The first costume to find in Act 1, can also be found in Act 2 and the Boss Act. The Guardian Bird costume lets you throw a mini whirlwind in midair. A nice costume to have for hitting far off opponents and counter wind projectiles.

I love the purple and yellow of the feathers and that orange mimics the bandana and ponytail of the costume's human equivalent. This costume is quite quick and good for dodging, the ability can act as a last second recovery should the need arrives.

Rare Costume: Sickle Slayer

A much stronger version of the Sickle Slicer that can be found in Act 2. One of the early options for breaking iron blocks or fighting iron coated opponents. The extra bulk does slow down the player but the payoff is worth it.

The larger size, serrated sickles and the color palette proves that this is a costume you rightfully earned. A sign that you can handle the much stronger costumes that can be found in the game. The general amongst the Sickle race.

Chapter 6

Common Costume: Pumpkin Puncher

The Fruity Boxer! A costume found in Act 1, 2 and the Boss! This costume lets you punch opponents from afar with straight Rayman equivalent punches. Doing a combo even extends the range. A faster hitter than the Sickle Costumes but also great at getting tons of Drops from Negati. If you take out tons of Negati in a single costume without changing or getting hit, the number of Drops they give increases.

I love the design since it's practically a scarecrow boxer. The outfit is cute, has a sort of fanciness you can only find in medieval periods in wealthy districts.

Rare Costume- Air Cat

The princess of platforming. This costume can only be found in Act 2 and allows the player to walk on air for a short amount of time. A perfect option for reaching far off areas, recovery and even avoiding ground hazards.

I've used this costume A LOT for most of my playthrough of the game. Even go back to Chapter 6 just to restock if I run out. This costume is that good. Very adorable too, just has this Artistocats nostalgia to it as well. Also I am a cat lover, literally got 5 cats at home and all are rescues as well.

That will be it for now. Part 2 of Favorite Costumes will be out sometime this week. I would've put the whole thing here but Tumblr limits how many pictures you can add to a post, 10 to be precise. Also, I don't want to make this too long for any fellow readers.

Until next time folks! See ya back in Wonderworld.