#another traumatic experience. MAKE IT STOP!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahundredtimesover · 2 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 18.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up.

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights.

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace.

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp.

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you.

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.”

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture.

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too.

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having.

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget.

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest.

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel.

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon.

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor.

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have.

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out.

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table.

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday.

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic.

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting.

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had.

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos.

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile.

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then.

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.”

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental.

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more?

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs.

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug.

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty.

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be.

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible.

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living.

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed.

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it.

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops.

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you.

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so.

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel.

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine.

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you.

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.”

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road.

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying.

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour.

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice.

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells.

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!”

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel.

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open.

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath.

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile.

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too.

“Is that better?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage.

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance.

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide.

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm.

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you.

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around.

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt.

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do.

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it.

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced.

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself.

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you.

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own.

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters.

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet.

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments.

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could.

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago.

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief.

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it.

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile.

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish.

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this.

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him.

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures.

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear.

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put.

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him.

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.”

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well.

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused.

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit.

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense.

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime.

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him.

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile.

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease.

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away.

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too.

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters.

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels.

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning.

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project.

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot.

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air.

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago.

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process.

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice.

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information.

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you.

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about.

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options.

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be.

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms.

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same.

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.”

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare.

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up.

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering.

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear.

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together.

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again.

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over.

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with.

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new.

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you.

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs.

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you.

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker @stopeatread @craftymoonchaos @alpacaparkaseok @coletaehyung @boyfriendtaekook @moonchild1

Series Taglist:

@xhazmania @ash07128 @rinkud @junniesoleilkth @junecat18 @peachytokki @baechugff @coralmusicblaze @jalexad @pamzn @hoseoksluv89 @familiarlikemymirror3 @kookies-n-spice @hyuneyeon @thisartemisnevermisses @jk97bam @nadzzzblog @xyarinx @megnugget98 @shameless-army @jkslvsnella @lvr2seok @nayashalouiseburrows @peterstarkchrishiddleston @kgneptun @cynicalbitch666 @roxexexee

#jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook fanfic

1K notes · View notes

wonlvkay · 1 month

Text

― Enhypen reaction to you not being able to fall asleep

Warnings : fluff, insomnia, stress, depression, nightmares, trauma, family issues.

Comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated

Heeseung ★

he would be fast asleep before he heard a soft sob and would immediately get up. "what's wrong love?" he would ask with concern reaching out for you as you seek comfort in his arms. he knew you had nightmares due to you having a toxic family and traumatic experiences. he would sing to you rubbing your back softly. he would go to sleep only after making sure that your ok and soundly sleeping.

Jay ★

he felt you rolling around for a couple of minutes and called you up for a talk. "baby, come here". apparently you were so nervous about your finals coming up. you even insisted staying up the whole night to study more and was about to get out of bed when his arms wrap around your torso and bring you into his embrace and gave you talks building your courage.

Jake ★

you dealt with mild insomnia but you were improving your health in a constant pace but sometimes you just can't sleep. you felt guilty to wake jake up so you slipped out of the covers and went to the living room and was patting layla. he felt a warm empty spot when he reached out to you and woke up. he frantically searched for you and was relieved to find you curled up on the coach with layla. boy, he was jealous but still assured you that you can always talk to him when your facing difficulties. "stop cuddling with layla. your my princess, not her's" he whined.

Sunghoon ★

you had drunk a lot of caffeine since the morning despite his warnings and now you can't sleep. "but sunghoon, i craved for coffee" you whined with a pout. so you two just chose a film and settled down on the coach to enjoy it. unfortunately, the film was ignored and you both fell asleep in five minutes, tangled up in each others arms.

Sunoo ★

you visited your family today and came home feeling down and depressed. he didn't press on you to open up but he knew how toxic your family was and the bad affect they had on you. later that night you laid awake staring at the ceiling, trying to hold your tears. he would wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into him as he comforted you. "you're so brave for facing all of that love. let out the tears". he would stroke your hair softly, planting kisses on the crown of your head.

Jungwon ★

you had returned from a trip to another continent and was jetlagged. your whole body clock was messed up and you laid awake tossing and turning. jungwon lit up some candles for you and you both talked about your day. luckily, the talk took your energy away. "maeumi did a trick you know-" he stopped talking as he realized you dozed off. he tucked you up and went to sleep but not before gushing over how cute you looked when you sleep.

Niki ★

you both were used to sleeping very late at night so you suggested you guys try to have a healthy sleep schedule and he agreed. things did not go easily as you two planned so now you two laid not feeling even a bit sleepy. niki had a solution for this. pillow fight! you both mucked around giggling like crazy. this activity drained out your energy and you both fell asleep in a mess of feathers. cleaning like on top of your list in the morning.

#kayla writes!!!#enhypen #heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #sunghoon #kim sunoo #jungwon #niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions

379 notes · View notes

letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months

Text

My dear lgbt+ kids,

If you consume a certain type of online content about friendship (often in the form of “10 signs of a fake friend” and similar), you may almost get to the conclusion that anyone who is not your best friend is your enemy - or at the very least, that any friend who doesn’t know *everything* about you is entirely worthless to your life and you would be better off cutting them out.

That’s a pretty radical view of human relationships, and it would ultimately cost you a lot of joyful social interactions if you strictly adhered to it.

Unless you barricade yourself in your room and never leave it (which would be pretty awful for your mental health), you will end up in situations where you have regular interactions with people who are not your best friend ever. The ability to be friendly to those people, to enjoy those connections, isn’t “fake” or “toxic”. It’s an important source of positive social interactions and a valuable tool to fight loneliness.

If you have a constant social circle, these may be the friends (or partners, family members etc) of your friends, those “I’m not directly friends with Rose but I’m friends with Lisa and Lisa is friends with Rose” situations. But even if you do not have a circle like that (because you don’t make friends easily, you have social anxiety etc.), there will most likely be some “casually friendly” people in your life, as these are often simply the people who happen to be at the same place at the same time as you: colleagues, classmates, neighbors, people at places you frequent (employees in stores, patients in group therapy etc.), or even just the guy who waits for the same bus as you do every Monday morning.

These people wouldn’t be the first one you’d call if you need help with a potentially life changing decision. They don’t know all your deepest secrets, fears and desires, they may not even be able to name your favorite color (or hey, maybe not even your name), and they certainly won’t be able to list all your identity labels, political beliefs, medical diagnoses, traumatic experiences and sexual fantasies - but they don’t need to.

It’s wonderful if you have a best friend (or another close relationship) who fulfills that role of being someone you’d trust blindly, someone who knows you inside and out. But not everyone you are friendly with needs to be that for you. There’s enough other roles. Acquaintances, work friends, casual friends, small-talk friends… those roles aren’t worthless. They won’t be the one you call at 3 am after a breakup, but they can inject a bit of joy in your everyday life. They can offer friendly interactions that come with no pressure to go beyond the surface (something that’s valuable in itself! It would be very exhausting if everyone already knew everything about you and every conversation had to be deep and philosophical).

Plus, only knowing each other in one context has its advantages: your best friend may not know anything about the printer issue in your office but your office friend sure does! And if you met someone in a crime novel forum and all you ever talk about is crime novels, is that really negative? Isn’t it beautiful to know someone who shares your passion for that genre and is always happy to talk about it?

Of course an office friend or a crime novel friend can also become a best friend over the years. There are plenty of people who meet in a specific context, bond in that context and gradually develop a relationship out of that context as well. But one-context friends still enrich your life.

Even if that context is purely “we say hi when we see each other at the bus stop”, it’s a positive social interaction - and those will bring color and joy into both of your lives.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

467 notes · View notes

randomgurl2326 · 3 months

Text

Slytherin Boys + Wifey Pansy + Y/N 2

Harry Potter Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: we call that a traumatic experience Y/N, turning to Draco: not a "bruh moment" Y/N, turning to Theo: not a "sadge" Y/N, turning to Mattheo: and DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Y/N: love is a weakness and an evolutionary mistake Draco: you are literally making a Valentine's, Day card for Theo Y/N, pointing their hot glue gun towards Draco: you're on thin fucking ice ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Theo: 'cause you're pretty and you're smart, and you're ignoring me so obviously you're my type Y/N, who was distracted: i'm sorry, what were you saying? Theo: perfect ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pansy: hey guys, I found a spider. cool little lad. thanks for eating the mosquitos Pansy: oh no, where did it go? Blaise: PANSY WHAT THE FUCK!?!? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Enzo, gesturing to Blaise: Y/N, look what you did! you made mom cry! Theo: mom, please don;t cry, we're sorry! Y/N: i'm sorry mom...:( Blaise, near tears: I DON'T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!!! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Theo: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter "s" Mattheo: *looks over at Luna and Pansy* Mattheo: is it "sexual tension"? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blaise: Y/N, gather the others. we need to have another Mattheo-is-doing-something-stupid-again-and-we-have-to-stop-him-before-he-hurts-someone convention ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Draco: what's that? Y/N: chocolate Draco: what's chocolate? Y/N: do they not have candy where you're from? Draco: yeah. grapes, nuts... Y/N: no wonder you're so bitter

516 notes · View notes

strawbeerossi · 11 months

Text

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ex-wife!Reader

Description: Spencer shows up at his ex wife’s door late in the night, riddled with guilt from years of their separation and needing to confide to her why he left her the first place.

Content Warning: Prison arc discussed but no spoilers, mention of PTSD, mentions of drug addiction/relapse, mention of violence, heart wrenching angst, crying, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, lovemaking, aftercare, happy ending.

Word count: 4.5K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

The last thing that she expected was to hear a firm knock against her apartment door. It was ten in the evening, who would need anything from her this late? Maybe it was Mrs. Martin, the sweet little old lady next door, wanting to drop off some freshly baked treat that she wanted her to try before she took it to one of her game nights. Which, Y/N had to admit, she loved when she’d come by with her signature chocolate chip brownies, she always made a heaping amount to share with her younger neighbor just because she expressed liking them one time.

She was approaching the front door. Using the peephole of the door, her heart sunk. Instead of seeing an older woman with a plate of treats in her hand, she was met with Spencer Reid.

It had been years since they talked last, the last time being a tearful Y/N begging her husband not to walk out the door, to stay and work out their marriage that she was afraid was starting to crumble into a thousand pieces. She could remember the bitterness, the hatred in his voice.

“Wait! Spencer, baby, please.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse from sobbing, her throat raw from having to yell over his loud voice just to get him to listen. “I know it’s hard but I need you to stay, we can work this out together. You know that. We always do.” Spencer was turning his head to face his wife, already packing his clothes away. “I don’t want to fucking stay. I don’t want your pity. Ever since I got home, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of child! I’m not!” His tone was laced with venom, enough to make the tears spring up in Y/N’s eyes again.

She knew prison would chip away at the Spencer she’d fallen in love with five years ago but she never expected things to go down like this. She’d done everything she could’ve thought of. She always made him some of his favorite dishes, she’d read to him, she’d hold him when he sobbed in her arms and relived the most traumatic experience he’d went through thus far. It was never enough.

He was different now. Irritable, temperamental, and he had a hard time composing his anger, not to mention that his once beautiful honey colored irises were dull, almost lifeless. He lost himself in prison, he wasn’t ever going to be the same. Instead of always greeting her with a hug and a smile after his days at the BAU or after cases, she was greeted to him starting to distance himself from her. It went from him coming home an hour late, to two hours, then three. She stopped making dinner, she stopped staying up to wait for him, she even stopped trying to reach out to him.

There was guilt, her brain rattled with so many what-ifs. If she left him alone more, would he have stayed with her? Would he have given her the same amount of love and dedication he’d once given her before? What could she have done to make him slowly begin to push her away, to serve her with fucking divorce papers?

Her tears stained the documents, her signature blurred out from how much she sobbed over the idea of losing the one real thing she’d ever known. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for his decision, she just couldn’t. Spencer had her heart, he took it with him out of the door when he left her, tucked away in his suitcase covered by the numerous suits and other necessities.

She was pulled out of her pain filled memories the moment she heard yet another knock. Was this a cruel joke? She was taking in a breath, collecting what little confidence she could manage to build up before she was unlocking the front door, her hand shaking from fear. As she was opening the door just enough to peak her head out, her lips were pursed in a fine line.

“Spencer.” Y/N spoke, her gaze firm on the man who had given up on her. “Hi, Y/N.” His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tone of their last conversation. “Can I come in..?” He asked, though his hand was slowly resting against the front door as he pushed it open, Y/N taking a few steps back to grant him access. She should’ve slammed the door shut, she should’ve locked it and sent him on his way. Yet here she was, slowly closing the door as she invited him to make himself at home.

“What are you doing here?” It took a lot of courage for her to open her mouth, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. She wasn’t going to cry anymore, mainly because she was so tired of crying over him. She’d done it enough within the past few years, if anything, she should’ve been out of tears.

“I’m here to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Y/N. I haven’t been honest with you. Guilt has been eating away at me and I can’t help but feel shitty.”

You should.

She’d never say it out loud but judging by the face she made, Spencer already knew what went through her mind.

“I just want to apologize. You are owed that much. Whenever I got out of prison.. I was a different person entirely. I stopped putting much effort into any of my personal relationships..” He began, which before his ex wife could cut him off, he was looking up from his feet with glassy eyes. “It’s because I was getting comfort from.. Other influences. Dilaudid.”

Spencer’s last addictions never defined him throughout their entire relationship, in fact, she was proud of him. He’d been doing so good, the temptation coming up every now and then but she’d be there to push him, to give him so much love and support to try and curb the relapse that could occur.

“Drugs change the writing of neurotransmitters in your brain, which can lead to aggression or mood swings. That’s why I was always hostile towards you and why I didn’t want to be around you.” Spencer explained, eyes on the ground in shame while his hands were coming up to rest over his face. “I knew I had a problem, I did. There was one day when you were trying to get me to eat lunch and.. I wanted to hurt you.” His voice broke at the admission, unable to meet her gaze. “That made me realize that I had a problem. A problem that I couldn’t control. If I couldn’t control my emotions, I would get to the point where I couldn’t control my actions..”

Just the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

“I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I ever did anything to you. I mean, I was already spiralling because of the vivid nightmares from prison. PTSD and drug use are a horrible combination, dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

The explanation had hot Y/N like a ton of bricks. How could she not notice he had a relapse, she was supposed to be by his side and she couldn’t even fucking tell that he was struggling with impulse control as well as his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Spencer, I could’ve helped you.” She whispered, stepping closer to her ex husband while slowly taking her hands in his.

“Because you didn’t deserve a damaged husband who would weigh you down. I can’t expect you to babysit me all day and night, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You have a career, you have friends, you have so much going for you. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you threw your life away to essentially take care of me.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if the two had a risk of anyone listening in on their conversation.

“You are not damaged.” Y/N scolded softly while she was squeezing his hands slowly. “Spencer, I love you so much, I’ll always be here for you. Wife or not.” She said softly while her hand was now coming to rest gently against his cheek, as if he were fragile and one wrong move would shatter him like a stained glass window.

Spencer was finally meeting the irises that he couldn’t ever get out of his mind, the way there was a shine in them. Eyes were the window to the soul and hers reflected a beautiful, colorful soul and a strong fighting spirit she always carried with her. Even when she was broken down, that shine was there.

Her love was radiating onto him at the smallest touch, the man’s eyes closing briefly as if to compose himself. “I love you so much, Y/N. I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I pushed you away, the way I ended our marriage. I should’ve confided in you sooner. I just.. I was worried about you.” His words were genuine, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered soon after.

If his pupils could be the shape of hearts, they would be. One thing about Y/N was that he adored her. He cherished her, took care of her. Even in the end when things went south, part of him still had that love that was locked away behind a crippling addiction that broke him down in the worst way possible. “When I wanted to just go back to using, I thought of you. How proud you’d be of me if I held off, how you’d tell me I did an amazing job getting back on track. You are my inspiration.” He whispered, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, holding her face in his hands as his thumbs traced over her soft skin.

There was a soft smile gracing Y/N’s features. “I am so proud of you. It takes a lot to admit when you have a problem, it takes even more to better yourself. Even if I’m not fond of the way you went about it, I understand.” She was honest. She didn’t like how he had to divorce her and disappear from her life. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with that.

For the first time since he’d came inside, there was a content silence filling the living room. It was comfortable. For the first time, home felt like home. However as the both of them stayed within each other’s embrace, it wasn’t long before Spencer was leaning down to kiss her.

Their lips met in a bittersweet collision, as years of longing and unresolved emotions surged through their bodies. The kiss began tenderly, a delicate exploration of familiar territory, before gradually intensifying with the fiery passion that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, they momentarily forgot the pain that had driven them apart, reveling in the sheer magnetism that still bound them together. There was no more pain, no more wondering what had gone wrong.

Their tongues danced in a rhythm only they could understand, tasting the remnants of past love and the promise of a future reignited. As they reluctantly pulled away, their gaze locked, and they both knew that their love still burned strong, an everlasting flame that kept them bound together. After all they’d been through, the love and care was permanent.

While drawing in a breath, Y/N kept her gaze on Spencer before slowly running her hands up his chest. It wasn’t a suit tailored for him like she’d been so used to before, instead a casual cotton shirt. In a way, it was comforting. He thought about her at times where he wasn’t chasing evil men and women on cases, when instead he was home at.. Well, wherever he lived now.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” She asked after a moment, her words coming out slow and her tone delicate, as if she had to worry about scaring him off if she was anything but. “I always sleep so much better with you..” She added on soon after while playing with a loose thread on the shirt, almost as if she had to distract herself from the way her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

It gave her flashbacks to when she and Spencer had first started dating, the both of them being soft with each other. The way that they’d both be nervous to ask the other to stay the night or when they’d be laying together and spoil each other in the wonders of intimate touch, their lips moving in sync.

That seemed so long ago now.

“Yes,” Spencer responded, not needing to spare a second thought. “I’d love to.” His own heart was racing, the feeling of being home slowly coming back to him. The comfort of Y/N being home, willing to hold him when he needed her. Tonight, he knew he needed her. In more ways than one.

Without a passing thought, the woman was being lifted into his arms while Spencer was reattaching their lips. There was love and need, yearning for the soft touch that they once shared. With the feeling of fingers tangling in his longer hair, he was almost running back to the bedroom that he’d remembered so well.

Without breaking the contact of their lips, Spencer was leaning down while carefully placing Y/N on her back, as if she was breakable. She needed to be handled with care, with appreciation. Not anyone would accept their ex husband despite his faults or listen to him when he’s explaining why he left. Most women would probably slam the door in his face. Not Y/N. Not the woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t deserve her love but she was willing to continue serving it to him.

Once she was on her back, Spencer was slowly pulling away. “I love you.” He whispered, the words just falling out of his mouth, reverting back to the ways that once were. The nights where they’d lay in the darkness, embracing one another during lazy post-coital conversations before falling asleep in those same positions.

“I love you so much.” He repeated as he felt like she needed to know his feelings never changed. His lips began to trail down her neck, his hands running down the silk nightgown. “I love you.” Y/N finally whispered in return, her head relaxing in her pillow while her eyes were fluttered shut, melting at each placed kiss.

Spencer let his teeth graze the now burning skin of her neck, eliciting a beautiful moan to fall from the woman’s lips.

This was heaven.

His lips were moving from her neck soon after that, his head lifting while the two were interlocking in a shared loving gaze. “You can keep going, you know.” She whispered, a little giggle leaving her lips at the way his eyes glistened in the soft lighting of the bedside lamp at her urging him to continue.

Spencer’s fingers were coming up to the flimsy straps of the nightgown, slowly pulling them from her arms while leaning down to trail kisses along her right shoulder. His hands were working to slowly tug the sleep garment off, almost as if he had to carefully unwrap a present to preserve the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted her to see how much he truly did love and miss her.

He’d take care of her tonight.

Once she lifted her hips to assist in discarding the nightgown, he was drinking in the sight of the near bare woman in front of him.

Spencer had eidetic memory, however, when it came to Y/N’s body, you’d think it was his first time seeing it. The way his cheeks would flush, the way he’d revert back to being the shy man who couldn’t help but stare as if she were a beautiful oil painting hanging in one of the highest esteemed art galleries in Paris, France.

He was now sitting between her open legs, eyes scanning over her body as his large hands were slowly running up her inner thighs. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He spoke, gaze now moving to the beautiful smile that was spreading across her face. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke softly, the two basking in the moment. There was no rush, no. Instead, they were enjoying the intimacy of soft touches, admiring bodies, sharing longing glances.

“May I?” He asked, fingers now getting dangerously close to the place where she needed him most.

“Of course.” Her head nodded, a blush on her face.

The panties she had on had a sizeable wet patch in the center of them, her body reacting so positively to his kisses, his touch, everything. His fingers were slowly running over her clothed cunt, electricity shooting through her body at the mere touch.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was husky now, fingers looping in the waistband of her panties before he was tugging them down her thighs, a groan ripping from his throat once he could see her glistening pussy, sticky with arousal. “God, I love you.” He repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the night.

Spencer was getting up momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. As he’d gotten onto the bed, he was now laying between her thighs, hips pressed into the bed for when he ultimately needed relief of his own.

With one hand keeping her plush thighs apart, his tongue was now licking a stripe up her pussy, collecting just a taste of her arousal. Hearing her shaky breath from above him was enough to encourage his movements. After a few more long and teasing licks, his fingers were coming up to spread her puffy labia apart, his lips blowing cool air while the woman was mewling from pleasure, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

He ate like a man starved, his tongue lapping up all she had to offer to him, like eating one of the ripest fruits on the vine that was bursting with more flavor and sweetness after being freshly pulled from the tree branch. His chin was coated in her glistening juices, his nose brushing against her clit while his tongue was focused on swiping over her velvety walls.

With the sounds of pornographic moans filling the room along with the way her fingernails were digging in his scalp, it became to a point where Spencer was desperate for relief, his hips rocking against the mattress while he was focused on bringing the woman to her peak. As soon as he could feel her thighs begin to shake and her words were more incoherent, he knew what was to come next.

It wasn’t long though until he was pulling away, chuckling at the way she was desperately clenching around nothing as soon as he pulled away. “Hold on, pretty girl.” He purred, getting his fingers lubed up with his own spit before he was plunging them into the woman, a low moan leaving his lips as she was greedily clenching around his digits and pulling them in more.

“There we go.” He praised, the two fingers being thrusted inside of her needy core.

“I’m gonna— oh fuck, Spencer.” Y/N breathed out as her eyes were squeezing shut, her words encouraging him to fuck her faster with his fingers. She could feel the coil tightening in her stomach, her moans and whimpers of his name falling steadily from her lips.

All it took was him curling his fingers and pushing against her spongy sweet spot before she was cumming around his fingers, her hips rocking steadily against Spencer’s hand as she was doing her best to catch her breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.

As she’s ridden out the high, Spencer’s hair was being tugged in a gesture that was telling him move your ass, Reid.

So he was nearly stumbling to crawl up to hover over her again, the two attaching their lips in a much needed, more messy kiss than before. “Please,” She mumbled against his lips, making Spencer pull away. “Please what?” He asked, needing to hear her say it.

“I need you.”

Those words had his already hard cock aching in his boxers, making him stumble a bit just to get them down his legs before they were being tossed with the rest of the clothes in the bedroom.

“I don’t have a condom.” Spencer spoke, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few tugs. “We don’t need one. I don’t care right now.” Her voice came out in a desperate tone, making the man nod as he was letting her line up his tip with her leaking mound.

He was pushing into her slowly, sinking all the way to the hilt while the two let out a collective moan, Spencer’s head falling against Y/N’s shoulder as he let his eyes flutter shut, kisses being sponged to her shoulders as he gave her a minute. The way her hands were gripping onto him was a big indicator that just like himself, she’d probably not really gotten much action in a while.

“I’m ready.” She whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she was practically hugging him close. “I’ll go slow.” He spoke in return, now lifting his head to smear their lips against one another’s.

Spencer loved slow and intimate sex, the way they were pressed flush against one another, drinking each others moans while the world slowly stood still. His hips were thrusting at a steady pace, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist just to try and bury him impossibly deeper inside of her.

It was the ultimate form of love. Being able to savor one another, enjoy the closeness. There were times in the past where the two would talk and even giggle with one another while his cock was buried inside of her. It was comforting in its own odd way.

Tonight though, there wasn’t much talking. Instead there was soft, loving kisses, the mixture of moans and groans falling between the both of them, as well as the sound of the bed squeaking along with each thrust that the man made.

There was nothing but love in that bedroom, the two whispering sweet nothings to one another and making promises that would fully be fulfilled going forward. This was going to be the start of something beautiful, that was something the two were confident of.

“I’m close,” Spencer’s words were being muffled into Y/N’s mouth, the woman slowly pulling out of their shared kiss while she was bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Me too, don’t stop.” Her words were soft, a moan leaving her lips as she was letting her eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the mattress as she could feel her stomach tightening again.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck.” His words slurring together as he brought one hand between their bodies, his thumb swiping over her clit in order to have her cum first. He prided himself on pleasuring her first and foremost, himself being mostly an afterthought.

As the warmth of her orgasm was washing over her, Y/N was hugging him as close as she could get him while a soft cry of the male’s name slipped from her lips. Chasing her orgasm, it wasn’t long until Spencer was letting go, a few more thrusts doing the trick as his warm cum was filling her to the brim. The feeling had the woman shuddering in pleasure.

With a thin layer of sweat coating their skin and their bodies still intertwined, Spencer was turning his attention down to the woman who he felt an intense and burning love for. “I promise you that I am not going anywhere this time. I’m tired of fighting M on my own.” His words were soft, his breathing still uneven. “I love you and I never want to be away from you like that again..”

“I love you so much more. You know that I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you’re struggling with. We are supposed to always be by each other’s sides. I made that promise to you and I never intend on breaking it.” Y/N assured.

“How about we to get cleaned up?” The make suggested, forcing himself to move away from the warmth of her embrace briefly. Instead of letting her get up though, Spencer’s hand was wrapping around her ankle before he was playfully pulling her to the end of the bed, making the woman laugh as she was being lifted in his arms.

“You could’ve broke my leg!” She gasped, a teasing tone chasing the words as she was letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pressing kisses across his face.

A she was carefully sitting her on the edge of the tub, Spencer was turning on the faucet. After he’d gotten the water warm enough for the both of them, he’d retrieved the plug for the drain. Approaching the bathroom cabinet, he was kneeling down and rummaging until he was grinning triumphantly as he was retrieving a bottle of bubble bath soap, holding it up. “I knew you’d never get rid of this. As dumb as it sounds, I was so pissed because I didn’t take this with me.”

After putting a generous amount of the soap in the tub and watching it foam up, he was waiting until the tub was filled to their liking until he was turning off the water. He was the first to step in, getting comfortable before holding his hand out to help Y/N get in, a smile on his face. Even if it was a little awkward considering he was a tall guy in a small tub, they managed to get comfortable together with her on his lap.

One of her hands was collecting a bit of bubbles from the water before she was moving to place them over his face, a little laugh leaving her lips as she’d given him a bit of a bubble beard. “How old are we?” Spencer asked teasingly as he was doing the same thing with her, the two unable to help the soft laugh filling the bathroom.

“So, I have a legitimate question,” Spencer began while leaning back against the tub, a smile on his face. “Does this mean we have to get married again?”

The question made Y/N pull a face as she was pondering over the question. He had a point. How did this work?

“I say yes. Only because I think you owe me a much bigger wedding this time.” She joked, making the male laugh.

“My queen gets whatever she wants.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid smut

1K notes · View notes

pretty--in--purple · 16 days

Text

Okay I’m awake again and something that really stood out to me with TSC was how different jean and neil are as protagonists. I expected they would be, but the thing I really noticed was how distinct their reactions were.

So, these books are HEAVY. There are many many traumatic events and the characters spend a lot of time in high-stress situations. Even when they’re not being attacked or threatened or XYZ, they’re often in a state of heightened physiological arousal (their sympathetic nervous system is going haywire). As a psychologist, the thing I find really interesting is that we see very different reactions that are all aligned with different adrenal responses, and I wanted to talk about it.

As a baseline, when your sympathetic nervous system is activated, you typically experience what some psychologists call the four Fs. Fight, flight, freeze, and/or fawn (some people use another word here but I don’t like it and think it’s less accurate to the situation). These can occur simultaneously or alone. And of the four characters who are most showing this response are the ones who are consistently in the highest stress situations, but who are also traumatised in such a way that even when they’re not actively in danger their sympathetic nervous system is overreactive and heightened.

So first off, we have Neil. He’s pretty clearly shown to have two responses: flight and fight. For his entire childhood, he’s been fleeing from danger and in the earlier parts of AFTG, we see this response - he tries to run as far as he can possibly get from anything that might be a risk. As a side point, this is pretty clearly a learned response from his mother. As Neil begins to feel more secure and his flight response is impeded (he can’t run away) we see the emergence of his other primary adrenal response - fight. I don’t feel like I need to explain this one, tbh, we’ve all seen how he runs his mouth. Fight is also typically shown when you believe you can defeat whatever’s threatening you, so I love what this says about how his confidence develops across the trilogy.

Then you have Andrew. He’s not a POV protagonist but I feel like his response might be the most obvious. His primary responses are fight and freeze (Andrew Minyard runs from/fawns for no man). Fight is pretty obvious - he’s a very violent person - but I feel like the most clear example of this is stopping Riko from attacking Neil. Andrew is obviously wired and his instinctive response is to protect. I love that for him. His other primary response, unfortunately, is freeze. Based on the most obvious time we see it (during Drake's attack), this is probably a response he developed as a child, before he felt strong/safe enough to fight back. God, these books make me sad sometimes.

Next is Kevin. He has a slightly more varied response - i can see the argument for him freezing, although i wouldnt say it's a primary response - but his main two responses are fight and fawn. Fight isn't necessarily literal, btw - the most obvious example is covering his tattoo. His fawn response is slightly more expanded on in TSC (mild spoilers if you haven't read that yet) when we see him responding to Riko's attack by begging first Riko and then Jean to intercede and stop the violence. he's trying to appeal to their affection for him, which is absolutely heartbreaking. Kevin i love you.

And finally, we have Jean, whose primary responses are only really made clear in TSC, although they are backed up by his appearances in the trilogy - freeze and fawn. We see freezing in Jean's response to sympathetic nervous system arousal, often from hearing about or recalling upsetting events/information. He closes in on himself and becomes unresponsive. Fawn is slightly more complicated, as we see it somewhat throughout AFTG. when he's loyal to riko and doing things he thinks riko will like in hopes of reducing any potential pain/threat he will experience, i'd call that fawning. an example at usc is him getting on his knees and handing coach rhemann his racket - he's not just submitting to punishment, he's trying to be helpful and well-behaved in hopes of lessening it. it's honestly a really strong response from him and it absolutely breaks my heart. jean in tsc is really struggling and i hope the last book brings him some peace. i also find it really painful that he's the only one of these boys without a fight response - he's never felt capable of winning against his abusers. i really hope the trojans and bee are able to help change that.

#tsc meta #tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #the sunshine court spoilers #aftg meta #aftg spoilers #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #jean moreau #sky (the blogger) originals

291 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 11 months

Note

can we have another sex pollen fic 🫣🫣🫣

picks up after Lazaretto where you were precautionarily quarantined together and subjected to a treatment that had a sex pollen effect on Joel 🥵. Check content settings if you can't see that one.

Lazaretto: Horny reader

1k / Joel x horny!f!reader

Warnings: Horny reader pressures Joel for sex as he struggles with guilt / fear. Jacking off. unsafe P in V sex. Prev story (referenced) was noncon. Unedited.

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

After Joel is seized by the fog and ferally pounds you, y’all still have another 24 hours in the tent together nearly nude before they’ll let you go. It's a long time to spend with someone in these circumstances. Long enough for you to recover and need more.

He’s traumatized by the experience, overwhelmed by guilt. You reassure him it felt good, as if he didn’t already know you came on his cock, but that doesn’t make him feel any better. He's torturing himself. He’s still feeling the fog, too, even though it’s faded.

He has a hard dick, but by now he’s regained enough control to restrain himself. He’s too ashamed to even relieve himself in front of you. Too ashamed or too afraid of what he might do. You spend most of the day pretending to nap so he can periodically jack off unembarrassed. He grunts and sighs as quietly as he can. You don't want him to know you notice, but it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, and the fact that he’s trying to be quiet only makes it hotter. The squish of his skin and his stifled sounds of pleasure have you starving for his cock.

You wish he’d just fuck you again. You’ve offered. You’ve asked. You’ve borderline begged. You want it that bad. You’re stuck in a tent, horny as hell, with Joel and his hard cock. What’s more, you’re aware of what he can do with it, and every few hours you have to hear him fucking his fist instead of your needy cunt. Your ass is sore, but your pussy wants more. The hornier you get, the more you lose patience. Finally, you’ve had enough and pretend to “wake up.” When you sit up on the cot and face him, he’s cowering on the floor pressing the heel of his palm into his aching member, with his eyes swollen from tears.

“I need something,” you say. “Anything.” You slip your hand under your gown and start touching yourself.

“Can’t give it to ya, sweetheart. It ain’t right,” he says for at least the third time today.

“No, Joel. God, I’m sick of hearing that.” You don’t stop touching yourself. "What ain’t right is you not giving me a choice right now. Gimme the choice you couldn’t give me earlier.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Get over here and lie down on the cot,” you tell him, your voice more gentle than the words. “Let me take what I need," you add.

He rubs his temples with the thumb and ring finger of one expansive hand. He shakes his head, then looks at the ceiling of the tent. A few seconds later, he hesitantly stands up with a groan like his whole body hurts. You avert your gaze from the considerable tent in his gown as he makes his way to the cot trying to hide it.

Joel lays down on the cot and says, "You don't have to do this. You really shouldn't." You feel a little bad for him, but you do have to do this. Your body needs it. In your mind, it will benefit you both. "I don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Get me started, I dunno if I can stop."

"Relax, Joel." You get on top of him and pull up his gown, your breath hitching at the sight of his commanding cock. You take your own gown off entirely, hoping the sight of your tits helps him get on board with this. You watch his face darken as you position yourself on top of him and both his hands come gently to your breasts.

"Fuck," he breathes as he palms your nipples with his tired eyes nearly closed. You notch the angry tip of his cock at your weeping cunt and he shudders "Ohh, God," pinching his eyes shut. His hands slide down to your hips then he opens his eyes again. As you begin to sink onto him, he pulls you down hard and lifts his hips, sheathing his stiff member in your warmth. He grunts and you sigh as you're impaled on his rock-hard length.

"Fuck, you feel good," he winces.

You lean forward and tilt yourself to press your most sensitive place against his pubic bone, softly cushioned by hair. You begin to move your hips, grinding against him and giving him space to rail in and out of you. His thick cock is hurried along by your ample slick each time he impales you. His eyes water, swollen and sensitive from his earlier tears, and his rough hands grip your ass harder. He kneads your cheeks and you wince in pain each time they spread.

Joel grunts and sighs as he buries his length in you. Your knees squeeze his broad torso as your clit begins to twitch. His face is overtaken by the inner animal again and he begins to rail you mercilessly, pulling you down harder each time he thrusts up into you. You lift up his gown and slide it up his torso, then rest your hands on his pecs for leverage. The sight of his scars and light chest hair make you weak and his firm pecs under your palms make you twitch more. You push your ass down and back as he fucks up into you.

You lower your torso against his, slipping your hands under his arms and resting them on the cot. With the added contact, you’re close to the brink. He plunges his thick cock into you for another minute, your walls gripping him each time he fills you up. You teeter on the edge of your climax, then he grunts loudly and pleasure seizes you, from your clit spreading inward, strangling his cock as you sigh. His nipples harden against your breasts and he shudders then explodes inside you with a long, low sigh.

You stay on his cock and he reaches down to the ground to pick up the blanket. He covers your bodies and you fall asleep with him inside you. Finally you both get some much-needed rest.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#sex pollen #tw noncon #joel jacks off #PPCU jacks off #PPCU jacks off ☠️#someone jacks off

1K notes · View notes

celtic-crossbow · 5 months

Text

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut (oral - m receiving)

Summary: Daryl should have bad days more often.

A/N: I wonder if I should be concerned that I wrote this after an extremely traumatic experience.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The air in the room had gone humid, reeking of sex and sweat. Yet it was sweet and refreshing after spending day after day wading knee deep in death and blood. It was here that you could breathe easy and remember that there were good things left in the world.

Now breathing easy wasn’t literal at that moment considering the 8 inches of archer currently sliding in and out of your mouth. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you kept your gaze on him. His head was thrown back to rest against the couch while his fingers were tangled in your hair.

“Fuck.”

Oh, how you loved it when he moaned. Daryl was always so quiet, broody even, when outside your home. Inside, though? He could get loud. And god, did you love it. The needy little sounds he was making at that very moment had your cunt clenching around nothing, but this wasn’t about you. Not this time.

You let your nails scrape down his denim-clad thighs. You hadn’t given him a chance to undress. You simply went after his belt buckle the moment he walked into the house and shoved him toward the couch. You didn’t need him naked to work your magic.

You hummed around his length, tightening your lips and pressing your tongue underneath as you dragged upward to make room for your hand to wrap around him. You felt the slight pull against your scalp of his grip tightening, yet he didn’t try to control your pace. He could if he wanted but unless you expressly told him to, he never did.

You pulled your mouth off, the slick sound of your hand pumping him replacing the gagging noises that preceded. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Daryl was slow to raise his head, the blue of his eyes only a thin ring around lust blown pupils. He was panting through the slight partition of his lips, his tongue snaking out to wet them slowly. When he didn’t answer, your movements slowed to a crawl. “Words, baby.”

“Yes.” He huffed in a quick breath.

Not good enough. “Yes, what?” You stopped altogether and gave his shaft a squeeze. The archer hissed through his teeth, hips jerking.

“M’a good boy.” He keened. With a satisfied hum, you went right back to a fast pace, licking your own lips when his head fell back with a shout of your name.

“Yes, you are.” Your mouth was on him again, cheeks hollowed while your lips and hand chased one another to drag the most delicious sounds from the man currently at your mercy.

“Y/N—Y/N, m’gonna cum.”

You pulled off him with a pop, drinking in the sheen of sweat on his skin. The grimace of pleasure as he struggled to keep control.

“And if I say no?” He was gritting his teeth while you continued torturous stroke after stroke. “Would you beg?”

“Yes!” Daryl groaned without hesitation.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a hard day. I won’t make you beg.” You wondered briefly if you should ask him where he’d like to cum, but given the way he was currently writhing in restraint, you wouldn’t even get the question out. “Cum for me, Daryl.”

You opened your mouth not a moment too soon. Warm ropes hit your tongue before you sealed your lips over his tip, swallowing him down while he moaned and rocked his hips. His hands fell away from your hair, his chest heaving while half lidded eyes watched you drag your tongue over the length of him to savor every single drop.

“Mmmm, you’re so good for me.” You gently tucked him away— zipping his jeans, but leaving the button and belt open —before crawling up his body to press yourself against his chest. Your mouths met in a gentle kiss that allowed him to taste himself on your tongue. Settling on his lap, you smiled and leaned into his touch when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Did that make your bad day better?”

He gave you a lopsided smile, one you weren’t sure anyone else had ever seen. “Yes, ma’am.”

784 notes · View notes

sugar-grigri · 8 months

Text

Fans are Denji's source of unhappiness

First observation: Fumiko is worse than Barem

I don't like making meaningless comparisons, especially in a work like Chainsaw Man where when the characters aren't nuts, they remain at least morally gray. But this comparison makes sense in the sense that the construction of the chapter refers to it. As usual, let's analyze this by following the chapter's chronology.

This one takes place in a funfair, which is not an insignificant location, but we'll come back to that later. These few lines of dialogue already evoke a very simple idea: Denji isn't so stupid that he wouldn't know he was being manipulated. He knows full well that Fumiko was placed in Yoshida's care not to protect him, but to keep a close eye on him, to prevent him from turning and joining the church.

But she tries to disprove all this, evoking the ecstasy one might feel if one were Chainsaw Man. Being Chainsaw Man is also a source of unhappiness for Denji, who corrects her, and Fumiko adapts to his speech, looking for the first negative point that comes to mind. I think it was a real mistake for Fumiko to mention this point, but once again, she adapts to Denji's reaction. He's completely horrified at having been observed in the bathroom, so she shares his negative view of the situation.

She knows that Denji's main objective is sex-related, so she builds on that by downplaying what she's doing. This is fan behavior; fans are sexually obsessed with Denji in the hope that it will delight him. But Fumiko knows no bounds, either ignoring his consent or stalking him, which logically engages Denji's rejection reaction again.

Once again, he perceives the means of manipulation with the word "fan", and rejects it. So far, these experiences have only been negative and intrusive, and even when they have been positive, whether with Asa romantically or Power platonically, the demon of control, another female figure, has put an end to them.

But instead of stopping the manipulation, Fumiko goes on to confirm Denji's words even as they express pure disgust and rejection. For a character who knows absolutely no limits, she may also override stopping this conservation, but she continues with her family history. If public demon hunters know anything about Denji apart from his natural distrust and need for affection, whether sentimental or physical, it's his sensitivity.

I can't say that the story Fumiko tells is a complete lie, just as I can't say that she's telling the truth. She's a hunter, and anything she mentions could well have ended up in a report, especially given the national authorities' interest in the gun demon. But even if her story is true, the tragic aspect, not for her but for Denji, is even stronger.

Fumiko says she lost her parents because of the gun demon, that CSM didn't hear her cries for help. I'd like to remind you that chapter 79, the chapter in which she refers to Aki's death, is dedicated to the trauma of what it means to be Chainsaw Man.

For the demon from the future, Aki died in the worst possible way, not for him, but for Denji. It's clear that the little boy is forcing himself to continue this snowball fight he no longer wants to play.

At first, he tries to reason with Aki, forcing him to wake up, but when he himself is shot trying to spare one of his only loved ones, people won't let him lose. Chainsaw Man is a weapon of vengeance into which everyone projects their frustrations, the deaths of their loved ones. Denji was forced to be resurrected, to kill Aki not for himself, but for the community. Chainsaw Man never acts for himself. If Aki died in the worst way for Denji, it's because his fans, this community, forced him back to life to remove one of his sources of love.

Denji was traumatized by having to win.

Let's be clear: it wasn't Denji who ignored their calls for help, it was they who ignored his.

Isn't it tragic to criticize Chainsaw Man for not hearing Fumiko's cries for help, or the cries of all those people, when he was instead so compelled by them, like a machine that would be reset to kill a loved one ? Chainsaw Man, on the other hand, hears all the pain in the world. This doesn't mean that Denji is altruistic - he isn't. He's closer to amorality than compassion, but like a permanently dehumanized machine, he must serve others. It has no morals, so how can it live for itself ?

That's why what Fumiko says is so paradoxical: saving Denji means finally allowing him to live for himself, granting him the right not to hear all those voices.

She doesn't mean what she says when she says she's never thought of him as a god, but simply as a child in need of protection. She's only setting up a dissident discourse to that of the church, which idealizes him by banking on the part of identity that is Denji, while the church banks on Chainsaw Man. How can someone who is constantly sexually abusing Denji be competent to protect a boy?

This chapter is about setting limits for children. To have access to the merry-go-round, you have to be over 1m10 tall. These clear limits were never set for Denji, either when he was forced to kill Aki or even when he explores his sexuality.

Having killed his father, been martyred by the mafia and then manipulated by a demon, Denji is now at the heart of other vicious circles. He's condemned to being too young an adult, watching over Nayuta like a parent while children play behind him, not enjoying the funfair with friends, a girlfriend, being cloistered on that bench. The bench represents the stagnation in Denji's life, his questioning, placed on the bench of his own life, his name unknown to his fans, his nature instrumentalized, his age ignored.

Denji needs and must be considered with the age he is, a 17-year-old teenager. Yet even this characteristic, even the fact that he's still a child, is ignored by Fumiko, hence her insistence on the word "senpai".

The treatment of Fumiko is good, I find her to be the very embodiment of Denji's sexual trauma in the sense that she constantly manipulates him to play on his interests, and constantly ignores his own desires, his limits.

Fumiko manipulates, hence the emphasis on her outraged expression when Barem interrupts. If Barem's manipulation is more grotesque, it's not to manipulate Denji but to mock Fumiko's strategy. Although it's incredibly more insidious, the weapon has a clear idea of what she's up to.

And yet, in just a few sentences, it's right on target. It's much closer to Denji's reality than to Fumiko's human perspective. Weapons are seen as weapons, machines at the service of humans, whose immortality is a pain, as it leads them to the trauma of always winning.

Barem uses a cigarette, obviously reminiscent of those smoked by Aki, who had given in to Himeko's advances and needed an outlet for his stress. Aki's misfortune is to have spent his life on revenge, living to avenge the dead, not living for himself. The cigarette was his flaw, the proof of his humanity, the one he threw at Denji to spare him the pain of getting involved in the horrible business of hunting demons.

Whether or not it was there to manipulate Denji by reminding him of his older brother, whether or not it was there by chance, it conveyed the same message: proof of the humanity of a man who lived for others. A man who was executed once again for that same community.

This community, Denji's fan club, is the cause of his deepest misfortune. Chainsaw Man has never been so popular, yet Denji has never been alone. Because he's not allowed to have loved ones. Nayuta, too, is proof of this: she wants her brother for herself, and convinces him that he's loved by others by acting under the cover of Chainsaw Man.

That's why Denji's intervention to stop the attack in progress is much less certain. All these fans, this humanity waiting for Chainsaw Man, are the source of his misfortune. Of course the fan club will call Chainsaw Man. What's less obvious...

Will Denji listen to their cries for help?

#csm spoilers #csm 142 #chainsaw man chapter 142 #chapter 142 #csm #csm part 2 #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man #denji #fumiko #fumiko mifune #barem #nayuta #makima #aki #himeno #my thoughts #analysis

858 notes · View notes

owliellder · 8 months

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Final Word Count: 22.6k

Author's Note: Ta-da! I put a lot of work into this last chapter, like actually becoming the president for a couple hours, but I really wanted to make it worth everyone's time for sticking around and reading all the way through.

Thank you so much for following along! All the sweet comments from you guys never fails to make my day!

^//v//^

Cross posted on AO3

The Reveal

Almost three months.

It took almost three months for Leon's portrait to fully dry after it had been varnished. You'd checked it almost daily after the two month mark due to Leon's constant pestering. He was understandably antsy, and admittedly, you were too.

There was a lot of convincing involved, but you managed to keep the man at home while you transported the painting to the White House. He worried it would be damaged en-route. Such a little worry wart.

Setting up the painting's respective spot a column away from Chris and Claire's seemed very appropriate; tall, fake bushes sitting on either side of where it would be placed, a warm yellow bulb lighting up the inside of the decorative archway, and the patterned golden frame where the canvas would forever be now hung empty in that portrait hallway, waiting to be pieced together and completed.

The shiny gold placard had already been screwed onto the frame, words zapped on it via laser:

Leon S. Kennedy

USSTRATCOM Agent from 1998 - 2011

D.S.O. Agent from 2011 - 2017

You knew how long he'd been working as an agent, but it was still baffling nonetheless. Nearly 20 years of non-stop intense and usually very traumatizing work, what a feat.

Moving on, you'd worked out the plans for Leon's farewell party with the President and a few coordinators over the span of a few days, making sure to store the painting in a secure room for the time being. It was to stay covered with a violet piece of velvet cloth up until the reveal at the party, no one was allowed to see it besides you, the President, and the various security guards working the grounds.

After another two extra months of waiting, the farewell party was drawing near. There had to be enough time given for invitations to be sent out to people, wait for said people to RSVP, and allow travel time. And at this point, Leon was busting at the seams; extremely nervous, excited, and even a little scared at the prospect of it all.

Your words from that second painting session all those months ago never left his mind: "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

The man clung to that, doing his best to internalize it and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He was hoping you were exaggerating, but from what Chris, Claire, and even Jill have told him about their experience after the fact, he knew deep down that you'd seen it all too well before.

What Leon failed to realize was that he wasn't alone anymore. Sure he had his friends to help, but he'd never had someone to come home to everyday.

During the last few sessions, he had asked to stay with you at your apartment, citing the potential aftermath of the party as reasoning. However, you really didn't need him to explain his reasoning, you would've let him. Even if he just felt like it, you would've welcomed him with opened arms.

Besides, he'd already been staying at your place for longer periods of time over the months. You'd visited his house a few times, but he made sure to whine and complain about how bare and boring it was. If you remember correctly, Leon had said, word for word, that your apartment "felt like a warm hug". With that, he shelled up with you in only a couple weeks before the painting had dried. He made special effort to learn your routine, wanting to give you the space that you needed while also maximizing his time spent with you.

Leon was an actual angel, you were wholeheartedly convinced. Some days you would come home after working on another painting to the man cooking dinner, having bought an expensive wine to share with you. When your hands would start to ache and your back and shoulders were sore from the long hours spent holding a paintbrush in an awkward hunched position, he would set aside anything he had going on just to give you all the massages, kisses, and love that you could ever want.

Nothing was ignored when it came to you and your wants and needs. Leon admitted awhile back that he felt guilty for intruding on your space, though you were very quick to shut that down. He was far from a burden, actually lining up more with a dream come true.

And just like he did with you, you spared nothing while getting to know the in's and out's of the man that occupied your mind, heart, and home. You learned his favorite meals, watched his favorite shows and movies with him, returning the massages when he would return from the gym, and paid extra attention to how he liked to be held at night. Who would've guessed that the Leon Kennedy loved to be the little spoon?

What you spent the most time on was making sure to listen when he suddenly went on tangents about his past. They really did haunt him. You would wake up in the middle of the night to him huddled at the top of the bed, arms wrapped around his legs and head between his knees as he did his best to cry quietly. All you could do for him in those moments was pull him against your chest, gently rocking him back and forth while whispering sweet nothings, just until he felt either ready to talk or ready to fall back asleep. If he just wanted more comfort, then that's what he got, obviously.

He was only recently put on a couple medications to help him better manage his PTSD and anxiety since he really had to cut back on the alcohol in order to take them the way he needed. Definitely worth it to both you and him seeing as his nightmares lessened in intensity and frequency.

Now here you were, straightening out Leon's tie for him since his hands were failing him, nerves getting the better of him. He had taken his meds a few minutes ago, wanting to have the full effect during the party to combat any destructive behaviors during it, so it was no wonder his hands were still trembling.

"You're going to do so well, Leon." You smiled, giving him a gentle pat between his pecs after tucking his tie into his suit jacket. He was staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You've made so much progress and I couldn't be any prouder."

He licked his dry lips before slowly looking down at you, giving you the best smile he could, which was really just him pulling his lips back tight. If it weren't for you constantly being around to encourage him and push him to get better, he would not be able to attend his own farewell party.

How had he managed to get so far without this level of love and care? Where would he even be without you? Hopefully later when his mind isn't racing a million miles per minute, Leon will be able to tell you just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Leon watched you in the mirror as you walked around to stand behind him, straightening out his suit jacket in random spots until deciding to just wrap your arms around his midriff, pressing the side of your face against his back with a content sigh. He brought his still-trembling hands up to hold onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs up and down across your soft skin.

His eyes settled back on his own face after staring at your arms linked around him, letting out a shaky sigh of his own as he attempted to just focus on this moment. You were perfect, ethereal, a true work of art. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

It took some time, about an hour, before Leon's medication was starting to kick in. You were definitely a big help, he couldn't give all the credit to his meds.

His relaxed demeanor wasn't easy to spot, the man was just naturally rigid, but you waited until he let you know that he was ready; ready to go to his farewell party, ready to see the portrait you painted for him, ready to put in the effort into accepting the next chapter in his life.

The drive to the White House was seamless, having been picked up in a blacked out SUV that held four personal guards, courtesy of the President. Leon wasn't going to complain, he actually kind of liked the pampering effect that came with being driven around by a dedicated entourage.

Almost all good feelings were drained from Leon when the car finally pulled up to the front of the White House where more guards stood waiting to escort the two of you inside. It was still early in the night, but the sun had set long ago, making for quite the beautiful atmosphere.

He could see numerous party attendees walking up the stairs, dressed up in their fanciest outfits for him. He held your hand the entire way up the stairs and into the entrance hall with a grip that was sure to leave your hand hurting. No matter, you could tell he needed you. That vice grip he had was well worth it for his comfort.

There were quite a few more people than either you or Leon expected. It seems as if all available agents, young, old, and retired, had been sent an invitation for tonight, along with quite a few high-ranking government workers. Luckily, this was a private event; no reporters, no news, only those who had been fortunate enough to be invited.

The first to spot you two was Chris who quickly made his way over to pull Leon into a bone-crushing hug, giving him a few solid pats on the back before letting go. Leon only reciprocated the hug with one hand, the other refusing to let go of yours, though his grip had loosened by now.

"Where's Claire?" Leon muttered, leaning to the side to scan over the sizeable crowd. "She's.." Chris turned around to also scan the crowd, squinting a bit as he looked. "She's somewhere. My wife is with her, her family, and Jill."

Leon pursed his lips with a curt nod, humming quietly in acknowledgement before standing straight again. He glanced down at where his hand held yours, squeezing it again for just a second as if to remind himself that you haven't gone anywhere.

Chris had turned back around to see the small gesture Leon gave to you, a coy smirk on his face. "What uhh... what's all this, huh?" He subtly pointed between you and the other man, voice lowered.

Leon cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear despite the volume in the hall. "... M'gonna save that for the-.. the speech." Chris just nodded, crossing his arms before slowly turning to look through the crowd again. "Alright, well, let me go find the family and bring them over before you're swarmed." And with that, Chris made his way back into the crowd.

Unfortunately, Leon had been spotted by the rest of the partygoers before Chris could return with everyone. Many pleasantries were repeated while also returning small talk with the people he recognized, which was a lot. You managed to avoid most of it, only being questioned a few times due to the rather obvious hold the man had on you. Despite having attended the last few parties like this, most people unable to recognize you as the artist. A blessing and a curse.

The next couple hours were spent eating finger foods, conversing with whoever, and enjoying the way Leon started to flow with the event. He soon found his way to Chris, Claire, their partners and kids, and Jill which really helped him loosen up. He needed the more familiar faces, having now let go of your hand fully to talk more animatedly with them. You made sure to stick by his side as long as you could, letting out a soft laugh every time you noticed his quick glances over to you to check if you're still there.

The time eventually did come for you to part with Leon, signaling a couple guards to follow you down a few hallways until reaching the room where the portrait sat, still covered with the violet cloth. The decision to keep it back here for so long was made by the President, wanting less of a sudden reveal and more of a build up.

Normally it would already be hanging in the entrance hall, covered and ready to be revealed, but not wanting to risk any potential damage, you were asked to hold off bringing it in until the President was ready to give the speech leading up to Leon's.

It'd been set in the golden frame rather quickly with the help from one of the guards that walked down with you. You had the guard to hold it up for you so you could give it one final good look before he was instructed to lead you back. After recovering, you took the portrait in both hands, holding it close as you were escorted back through the halls and into the main entrance hall.

By now everyone had directed their focus closer to the center of the back wall. Next to where the President stood, your own art easel was now set up. That was mostly as homage to you and it wasn't like anyone besides you would understand that it's yours, though Leon did pick up on that little feature. He'd been staring at the back of that thing for months, counted the various old streaks of paint on the pale wood over and over.

It made his farewell all the more personal, struggling to mask the feeling of the ever-growing pit in his stomach from the friends he was still standing next to.

The sound of a mic being tapped drew everyone's attention in to the President, the volume in the hall quieting to a whisper, soon completely silent as he began to speak into the mic;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you to honor and pay tribute to a true hero, a dedicated public servant, and a loyal friend who has served our nation with unwavering dedication for the past 19 years. It is with great respect and admiration that I address you on this occasion, as we bid farewell to a remarkable agent who has exemplified the very best qualities of service and sacrifice." As the President spoke, Leon held his breath, hands gripping onto his suit jacket to keep from trembling again.

At this point, you'd silently walked along the side with the guards from before, bringing the covered portrait up to the front before carefully placing it on your easel. "Throughout this nation's history, these agents have played an essential role in ensuring the safety and security of our nation's people and have consistently placed their lives on the line to protect the sanctity of our democracy. And today, we acknowledge one agent who has done so with unparalleled devotion."

"This retiring agent has been a silent sentinel, ensuring the continuity of our democratic ideals. Through countless hours of training, vigilance, and selflessness, they have demonstrated a level of commitment that is nothing short of extraordinary. But beyond their exceptional professional duties, this agent has been a friend and a confidant to those of us privileged to work alongside them. They have been a source of strength, a steady hand in turbulent times, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that can form within the ranks of those who dedicate their lives to service."

You positioned yourself opposite of the President, placing your hands behind your back to keep your posture tall as you now smiled at the crowd, subtly scanning for Leon. His eyes were already on you when you found him, and your smile only widened further.

It prompted his own nervous smile, toying with the buttons on his jacket while turning his attention back to the President, wanting to remain respectful to his, honestly, very flattering speech so far. You followed Leon's eyes, seemingly having the same idea to just watch and listen.

"The sacrifices made by our agents often go unnoticed by the public, and that is by design. Their commitment to duty is matched only by their humility. But today, we pause to recognize and celebrate this retiring agent's dedication, valor, and sacrifice." The President continued to address the attendees in the room, giving you a quick nod before returning his focus to everyone in the entrance hall.

The President outstretched his hand towards Leon standing in the crowd, now staring at him with a prideful yet relaxed look. "To Mr. Leon S. Kennedy, our retiring agent and loyal friend, thank you for your 19 years of dedicated service to our nation. May your retirement be filled with the peace and contentment that you so richly deserve. You leave behind a legacy of honor and courage that will never be forgotten." The crowd of attendees clapped and cheered briefly, causing Leon to reach his hand up to wipe across his face. A poor way to hide his red face. He's done that before, hasn't he?

Once the crowd quieted back down, the President finished his speech with a classic, "May God bless you, your family, and may God continue to bless the United States of America. Thank you" before the crowd picked back up cheering and clapping. You clapped along with them, laughing at Leon's flustered expression. He could barely hold back his smile, not really have expecting to be so well recognized for his service.

Leon's queue to make his way to the front was when the President walked over to stand next to you, making sure not to block the covered portrait from anyone's view. He'd recited this speech to you countless times, even more to himself when he was alone, but all those eyes staring at him were causing him to fumble. He messed around with the mic once he was standing in front of it, and that was your queue to walk over and stand next to him, placing a loving hand on his forearm.

That's all he needed, just a little extra encouragement from the person he relied on the most. His speech was short and straight to the point, never having been a man of professional word, yet he still managed to slip in some words of praise for you and all the help you provided him during his rough patch earlier in the year.

Neither you or Leon had outright said it to each other, let alone to anyone else, but hearing him announce to the entire hall of people that you were his girlfriend made your heart soar. Speaking about you calmed his nerves, and he wanted everyone to know just how lucky he felt, like he'd hoped for earlier.

He bent over slightly to whisper in your ear, covering the mic with his hand to make sure it didn't pick up his voice. "Now, why don't you go ahead and show us all that masterpiece you spent months working on?" Oh, now you were the flustered one, giggling nervously as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before walking over to where the painting sat on the easel.

"Ladies and gentleman," Leon's eyes followed you as he straightened his posture out, speaking into the mic once more with a wide smile gracing his features, "I'm honored to have the wonderful artist herself present my very own portrait to you." As he spoke, you carefully lifted the cloth from where it was draped over the painting, finally revealing the ever-awaited portrait to everyone.

Just like with Chris and Claire's, Leon was sat in that soft maroon chair, slightly off center, but his position was different with his right ankle rested atop his left knee, elbows on the arms of the chair while his hands rested in his lap, fingers interlaced. His smile was soft and partially crooked while he looked forward with relaxed eyes, a few strands of hair painted to sit in front of his brow. And to tie it all together, it had a lovely green background, a dark forest green as the base while a sage green was used to add texture. The vintage look had always been your favorite, and Leon fit it so perfectly. He was nearly timeless.

Many "ooo's" and "ahh's" were heard amongst the clapping from the crowd, along with a handshake from the President. Before you could turn to face Leon, you felt his arms slowly slink around you from underneath your arms, the weight of his head now pressing down on your shoulder. You could feel his grin when he tilted his head to kiss your jawline, beginning to gently rock you side to side. Getting to show off your work was always so rewarding, but just knowing Leon was handling everything so well was a feeling you'll truly never forget.

He was happy. That's all you ever wanted for him. The man has truly earned his portrait in that agent hall of fame.

The portrait was soon brought down to the aforementioned hall to be hung up and displayed for good, a few small groups trailing down to get a better look at it. Chris was the noisiest about it, telling Leon it looked like it belonged above a grand fireplace, to which said man agreed with.

Chris, Claire, Jill, and their respective families stared at it for quite some time alongside Leon and you. They all chatted while Leon stared quietly, taking in every little fine detail you'd added. You changed his position some, and did he really smile at you like that? He really did look lovestruck. Of course only he could tell that. Hopefully.

He surprised himself with how okay he felt after seeing the painting. You warned him multiple times that it would most likely be overwhelming and emotional, and while it was, it wasn't in a bad way. The most compelling thought he had right now was to just sweep you off your feet and smother you with love.

Leon asked one of the guards to take a picture of him with everyone, including you, in front of his portrait. Then, just a picture of you and him standing in front of it, easily becoming the background on his phone.

The party went on for only an hour or so more before people started to trickle out. You and Leon were some of the first to leave, saying all your thanks and goodbye's with hugs and handshakes.

The moment the two of you walked into your apartment he practically pounced on you before the door had shut, large hands gripping tight on your hips as he sloppily made out with you. He just had to show his gratitude for all your hard work.

Your lips tasted so sweet and your soft little moans were driving him wild, he couldn't help the groan that rumbled from his chest. Full blown sex had been held off by you, not wanting to rush him into anything while you helped him manage his problems. Honestly, he was glad you'd held off on him, because now that he was feeling like his own person again, it made waiting all the more fulfilling.

Leon hoisted you up into his arms after you'd kicked your heels off, holding onto the back of your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips as he carefully navigated around the short hallway and into the bedroom.

You looked so good splayed out on the bed for him, that beautiful dress you chose was insanely flattering on you. It had to go though, so after yanking off his jacket he made quick work of your dress, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before pulling it up and over your head. Your bra and panties didn't last either. He'd only gotten to see you naked a couple times before, but god, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way, acting all shy like you weren't his favorite view.

Leon was so eager to get his hands on you that he neglected to take off his suit, opting instead to hover over you and bury his face into your neck. He wasn't a good artist, but he loved to cover your neck in shades of red and purple like you were his own little painting, akin to leaving his signature all over you.

He only pulled away once you tugged on his hair, listening to your begs and pleas for him to get his clothes off. As much as he wanted to prolong this night and tease you, he couldn't hold himself back. He needed to feel your soft skin against his.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your skin, licking and kissing his way up your stomach and to your breasts after practically ripping off his clothes. His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing them firm against the bed to keep you from squirming away as he nipped at one of your nipples, pulling it into his mouth.

He moaned as he sucked and circled his tongue around your nipple, his eyes falling closed. The other couldn't stay neglected, so he brought one hand up to pinch and tug at your other nipple, sighing when he felt your body press against his as you arched at the sensation. He loved when your moans would pitch, so cute.

His cock was pressed against the inside of your thigh, rutting against it when you would tug at his hair. Once he decided your nipples had enough attention, he sat up and grabbed the backs of your knees to place around his waist. The new position offered Leon the perfect opportunity to drag his leaking cock through your folds, pressing it down with his thumb so the tip would nudge your clit with every slow thrust forward.

You were so wet, so delicate. He could've fucked you right then, slid right into that juicy little pussy, but he needed to take care of you first. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you.

Reluctantly, the man pulled his dick away from you, letting out a poorly concealed whine at the loss. He ran his hands up your thighs before moving one hand so he could circle your clit with his thumb, the other hand back on your hip to keep you steady.

"L-eon~!" You brokenly moaned out, pleading to him with your watery eyes. You needed more; his fingers, his cock, anything. He couldn't say no to that, stopping his assault on your clit to drag his middle and ring finger through your drenched folds to wet them properly. He brought your right leg to sit over his shoulder, hand gripping the top of your thigh as he leaned forward, studying your face closely as he gently teased the outside of your slit with his middle finger.

He moaned with you as he slid his finger in, keeping his eyes trained on you as he started to tentatively thrust his finger in and out. "Yeah?" Leon whispered, licking his lips as you barely managed to nod. "Yeeeaah, there's my girl..." The rumble in his voice was music to your ears.

His ring finger was soon slid in next to his middle finger, switching between scissoring you and making a partial 'come here' motion with them. After only a couple minutes you were leaking all over his hand and the bed, the wet sounds of your pussy mixed with your moans making his cock jerk and drip with precum. Leon clenched his teeth as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, immediately bringing them to his mouth to suck off your juices. He let out an audible sigh after swallowing, repositioning his dick to slide through your folds a couple more times before nudging your hole with the tip.

"Look at me, baby..." Leon's hushed demand brought you to open your eyes, if only half way. He made eye contact with you before leaning forward further to kiss you, all the while finally pushing into you. He soaked in your gasp, his eyebrows furrowing as you tensed up. "Relax.. let me in~..."

"It's only me.." He panted, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes shut again. "It's only me, baby..." he repeated this a few more times as he eased his cock inside of you, the stretch only stinging for a moment before it turned to pleasure. He filled you perfectly, you could feel every bit of him, especially with his right hand adding a bit of pressure to your stomach.

Leon sat still for a minute to give you time to adjust, taking the way you moved your hips as a sign to move. He pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slowly thrusting back in. He managed to choke out a quiet "Fuck-.." when you clenched around him. "Taking me so well.. such a big girl~.."

He always knew just how to talk to you, making sure to take his time buttering you up. You were putty in his hands, and between his words and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside of you, you could barely think.

It didn't take long for him to start to lose his composure, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the room as his thrusts intensified. "All mine. All for me." The grip he had on your thigh was sure to leave a bruise, but that was the last thing on your mind.

The hand he had pressing on your stomach moved further down so he could circle your clit with his thumb again, jaw tight as he looked from your blissed out expression to where his hand was playing with you. "Oh fuck! That's it!" Leon growled, eyes glued to your cunt as he plunged in and out of it. "Cream this dick, mamas~... Cum on my cock so I can fill this pretty pussy up.."

The way you gasped and moaned when you came was enough to warrant a noise complaint, but screw your neighbors. You needed this just as much Leon did.

"Oohhh fuck yeah.. Milk me, baby~... shit-" Leon's thrusts stuttered to a stop while pressed flush against you, abs flexing as he pumped ropes of cum into you. Once you managed to open your eyes, all you could do was stare at the man, flushed pink and sweaty, sitting between your legs. Both of you moaned in tandem as he pulled out, Leon groaning to himself as he watched his cum drip from your pussy. Truly a work of art meant for his eyes only.

He leaned over you again to plant a quick kiss on your lips, chuckling when he felt you smile. "Let me go grab something to clean you up, okay?" You could only nod in response, reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face before he stood up from the bed. He walked across the hall into the bathroom, wetting a soft rag with warm water before making his way back over to you.

Leon made sure to be gentle when cleaning you, the warmth from the rag soothing your tender skin. You were able to sit up on your elbows and watch him, using his gentle touches as a way to calm your still racing heart.

After wiping himself off with the rag, he tossed it over in the general direction of your laundry basket. It was a problem for later. Right now, he wanted lay back on the bed and pull you up so you could lay on top of him. Along with just how nice it felt to hold you, he loved the weight of you on him. So that's what he did, pulling you onto him after laying on the bed, running his fingers though your hair on the back of your head.

"Leon." You muttered against his collarbone. His eyebrows raised, yet his eyes were closed. "Mm?" His right eye peaked open when he felt you giggle. "What?"

"I love you." His fingers paused their ministrations at your words. You lifted your head up to look at him, growing worried with his shocked expression. "Sorry, is that too-" you choked on your words, stopped mid-sentence by Leon's arms suddenly squeezing the breath out of you with a very tight hug. He pulled you up just a little further so he could smush his lips against yours.

"I love you too!" He breathed out excitedly. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to tell you!" You tapped his arm and he immediately relaxed his grip, mumbling a small, "Sorry, my bad.." when you took in a deep breath.

"You're adorable, Leon." You shook your head with a smile, brushing the hair from his face to give him a much gentler kiss before settling you head back against his chest with a quiet sigh.

Leon was still a tough man, but you made him soft. Only ever soft for you.

Side note: I totally forgot to add in the pussy eating i am so sorry. i thought i did but it was literally just a thought that never manifested 😭

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @mi-zer-y @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason)

688 notes · View notes

joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 2 months

Note

Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask if I can make one hehe, you don't have to do it or anything like that, but I'll leave the idea here anyway hahaha.

I would like to request a teen! Satoru Gojo x fem! reader and kid!Megumi (or gender neutral) Where Satoru Gojo and reader have known each other since they were little and they are both powerful, therefore when it is time to go on the mission to protect Riko Amanai she is also sent along with Satoru and Suguru,She also suffers because of Toji Zenin and basically everyone is traumatized (here we stick to the canon, doing the daily angst that our dearest Gege gives us..:) ) And basically after the events, reader and Gojo go to Megumi to make Touji's last words come true,I'd like to see a little bit of domestic fluff and a little bit of angst hehe...Reader seeing Toji in Megumi but at the same time wanting to stop because she knows they are completely different people. Happy ending :D

A/n: Thank you for this wonderful request, I'm pretty sure this is the first request regarding JJK in general so yippeeee! Enjoy!

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN (TEEN!GN!Reader x TEEN!Gojo) [ft. KID!Megumi]

"Stay here with Misato, just in case that man manages to make it down here."

You simply nod, looking away. Something felt wrong, you could feel it in your gut. You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

"Satoru's got this, he's the strongest there is. You probably won't even be needed."

You turn to Riko, the sadness building up inside of you. She looked like she was about to cry as well. You had so much fun with her, you'd miss her so much. She rushes into you for a hug, and you hug back tightly, your eyes welling with tears.

"I'm going to miss you." She buries her head in your shoulder. "I'll miss you too, bug."

You let go of her and watch as she walks forward with Suguru, leading her to the end of her life.

You and Misato finally hear the elevator coming down. Satoru made quick work of that guy; it really didn't take that long either.

"That must be him, right?" Misato looks at you, happily.

You start to smile as you felt the elevator growing nearby. Soon it fades, you detect no cursed energy from the lift at all. You start to activate your technique and Misato gets prepared to fight.

The elevator doors open then everything goes black.

"Y/n... Y/n!"

Your eyes slowly open as you wake up with a bad headache. You blink a couple of times and finally adjust to the bright light. Shoko stares at you in relief, smiling softly at you.

"W-What happened?" You suddenly remember the elevator and-

You sit up quickly, groaning in pain and being calmed by Shoko.

"Easy. Easy!" She touches her hand to your back softly, rubbing up and down.

"Is Satoru okay?!" She nods.

The door to the clinic opens to reveal Suguru, a solemn expression on his face.

"Suguru, what's wrong?"

"I gave Riko a choice of continuing to live or to die. She chose to live her life."

You smile, happy he gave her a decision.

"She's...um..."

You laugh softly, smile slowly fading. She couldn't have...

"She's alive and back at home with Misato...right?"

He stays silent, looking at the shiny floor of the clinic.

A sobbing scream was heard from inside the clinic as Gojo listened silently near the door.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You shoot awake from your bed, looking over at your boyfriend who is still sound asleep. Your hand unconsciously rubs the spot where Toji Zenin's bullet almost killed you. You let out a sigh and escape from the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

"You're fine." You open the fridge, the glow illuminating your face with the most perfect uncomfortable amount.

You lean your head against the fridge door and take a deep breath before grabbing a water bottle. You couldn't help but rest your head against one of the counters and sob. You hated how your traumatic experiences will always come back to haunt you. You wipe your eyes, take another deep breath and take a sip of your water.

Your ears pick up a light pitter-patter sound approaching slowly. You turn towards the noise, observing Megumi with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, stopped in the middle of the dark hallway.

"Hey Megumi, you shouldn't be up. What's up?" You crouch down in front of the counter as he continues his silent approach.

"I heard you crying and I couldn't sleep." The kid looked so much like him, he scared you sometimes.

"It's nothing to worry about." His eyes are so similar to his father's.

"I think it is if you're crying. Did you have a nightmare?" Everything is similar to Toji.

"So-Something like that. I'm almost an adult, it's nothing."

Megumi just stares at you blankly for a moment before wrapping his blanket-winged arms around your neck.

"Everyone's afraid of something." He leans in closer to your ear, whispering. "It's okay to admit it, I'm afraid too."

You smile and hug him tight, rocking him back and forth on the kitchen floor. He made you feel better, way better than before. He's just a kid, Y/n. He's not his dad.

"Let's rest together, yeah? It might be easier to sleep that way." He nods, tiredly.

You scoop him up and walk over to the couch. You lay on the couch with him cuddled up into your neck, softly breathing. Megumi fell asleep quickly. You brush your fingers through his hair, watching him fall into a deeper sleep. Soon, you follow him into a better dream than before.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Satoru wakes from his sleep and walks into the living room, knowing you got up in the middle of the night. He spots Megumi cuddling with you in his sleep and you hold him tightly.

'Cute...'

He touches the small scar on the side of your head and then kisses it, bending down slowly. You're more comfortable with Megumi and he hopes you'll get closer to him from here on out.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

178 notes · View notes

elaemae · 3 months

Text

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 4

PREVIOUS CHP.: PROLOGUE 3

Thank you guys for the likes, reblogs and comments.

Also, to the people who became my followers, I'll be forever grateful for that😊

CW: When MC gets mistaken as a guy, they get referred to as he/him, but the problem is that there's too many males around the MC.

So, I've decided to color the pronouns blue when it's MC that's being addressed. Just to avoid confusion.

CLARIFICATION: The headmaster, and MC knows that Yuu is from another world, so MC decided to play along and pretend that they're from the same world as Yuu. (The human world where MC came from is mostly similar to the human world that Yuu describes. i.e. landmarks, cultural, knowledge, current trends, anime and manga are all mostly the same.)

REMEMBER: Read this before the chapter.

Experience changes people.

If you see MC doing something you think you won't do and you decide to complain about it, remember this:

• You act the way you do because of the things that you've gone through in your life.

• MC is the same.

• They experienced a lot of traumatic events and almost lost their lives a fuck-ton of times.

• Because of that, they've changed. They've diverged from being you into the MC that they are now.

• The life you're living now shall be treated as the MC's canonical past.

• Also, because The Obey Me!cast feels bad from all the times you suffered and almost died because of them, they tend to overcompensate you.

• You get dressed in the finest of fabrics, most luxurious jewels, as well as housed and fed with the best things that the three realms have to offer.

• You don't take them for granted, but years of living with that lifestyle had raised your standards to new heights and changed the way that you act towards certain things.

• You're free to make up your own head canons if you don't like mine, also y'all can give me feedback if you want so I can improve my work.

• This story will be set a few years after the canon of the Obey Me games.

• • • • •

Who would've thought that it would be a bad idea to try to trick someone who literally reeks of luxury to live in an old, bout-to-fall-apart dormitory?

Well, certainly not Crowley.

That fact became known when 'The shady looking dorm leader™' and also, the tablet decided to tag along with you, Yuu and Crowley, but then had to help Yuu in holding you back so that you wouldn't beat the ever living crap out of the headmaster the moment he dared to bring y'all in front of this rustic establishment and say "It had charm". (Too many You's)

Oh really? really?? Oh you'll see real charm when I beat you straight into the afterlife you greasy son of a bitc–

*Ehem*

It did not end well.

So instead of that, the headmaster had to temporarily put you and your fellow stranded-in-dis-school-human into the infirmary as your temporary abode and promised to fix the shoddy dorm so that it can safely house people in it. (Grim will appear in the future, dw)

*Que Azul tryna make you stay in Octavinelle and you vehemently declining that offer.*

Also, you're starting to get creeped-out by the floating tablet that keeps following you around and won't stop with taking pictures. there's also the small maniacal giggles coming out of the device.

• • • • • •

So there you two are, two people that've been kidnapped by this school's fuckin carriage are now bonding in the infirmary and distracting each other by venting about problems back home. (You two are too wary to be able to sleep properly.)

Like, yes Yuu, I'm in a polyamorous with more than a dozen problematic individuals.

Yes, it works out. somehow

Damn, three assignments due tomorrow all from the same subject? Have you ever tried cheating off of your classmates?

Oh— wait what?! a classmate from biology was caught fucking with a professor in a classroom!? Seriously??

No, I unfortunately no longer have a grasp on the concept of private space and poverty.

Yes, maintaining a relationship with a lot of people at the same time can be hard.

A lot of them are rich.

Wait, a seatmate of yours really gave two free expensive sketch pads just because you asked?? Where can I find that person??

Yes they all act like my sugar daddies and my man-children in one way or another.

No, don't you dare pimp yourself out, okay? There may be a lot of people in my life but the important thing is that we all love each other.

We support, comfort, protect, and guide each other to the best we can.

No— that didn't happen in a day, I had to bend over backwards and almost die a shit-ton of times before I managed to wiggle myself firmly into the hearts of those fuckers.

...Q- Questions about our sex life will be automatically ignored.

Just.. be nice to others, even if it's seemingly stupid.

Unless they are absolute scum then just maintain distance.

You just gotta eyeball it to figure out when to stop being nice to someone.

Never and I mean NEVER treat anyone badly unless they did something unforgivable to you.

Don't call me kind. It's easier to have a grasp on other people if you're nice.

Pft— You once saw a book called "How to be a sugar baby 101" in the school library?! And you saw your principal reading it?!

Sure-sure, I'll help you with your math homework— wait a second.. Seriously?? We've been kidnapped, I ain't allowing you to do math. Where the hell did you even hide that thick-as-fuck test sheet anyways?? Up your ass?!

• • • •

You sigh for the third time this hour, looking at Yuu who's making a "Mom.. I threw up in the carpet... I'm sowwy🥺" expression as they stand beside your bed.

"What happened?"

Yuu winced, feeling embarrassed as they hear you talk to them like a disappointed parent, they had failed to appeal to Crowley about becoming a temporary student of this school and now had to be a janitor/errand kid.

"The headmaster said that I'll be the handy-man of the campus while he searches for a way to get us home..."

You feel a vein in your head throb and your eye start to twitch by of the sheer audacity being shown in front of your face.

You are now feeling the immense urge to hex that bird-bitch.

Satan sat straight in his seat, speaking out to the others in the meeting table.

"I can feel irritation and the urge to curse someone again." He said.

It would've been funny if this was another situation.

"That's definitely from MC, isn't it? You mentioned being half-asleep and feeling MC get agitated through your pact mark, right?" Diavolo asked.

"Yes, at least our pacts are still intact..." Satan nodded.

"Great, we can use this to monitor MC even if they're far away." Lucifer stated.

Countless search-parties and interrogations have already been conducted, but they're still clueless on where you can be or who could've taken you.

Even Barbatos couldn't see what had happened.

They're starting to get agitated, MC..

• • • • •

Jade watched as Azul frantically drafts and redrafts a new plan of his.

It seems that something caught the eye of their housewarden in the ceremony today.

"What could be so eye-catching that you're in such a hurry to obtain it, Azul?" Jade couldn't contain his curiosity and asked.

"It's a new student, Jade." Azul started.

"He possesses such a large amount of magical artifacts in his hands, It's unbelievable! They were all high quality too!"

Jade blinks.

"Don't you have enough magical artifacts around?"

Jade is confusion.

"You don't know it because you weren't there." Azul narrowed his eyes at Jade.

"I first thought those jewelry of his were similar to the ones that you can buy with enough money in annual auctions, but then I realized that it's very likely that those jewelry are customized."

"...How so?"

"So I decided to try and take a closer look, but when I actually got closer and almost touched one of them, I felt a strong thrum of magic that I haven't felt before!"

Oh?

Now that got Jade's attention.

Azul has been exposed to a lot of strong, powerful people and magical artifacts over the years that he and his twin were following this dormleader of theirs and yet there was actually an artifact so strong that he can feel strong waves of magic by just almost touching it?

How curious..... If the magic of the artifact was so strong, why didn't Azul sense it up until he literally almost held it in his hands?

Seems like this year won't be boring, after all..

• • • • •

BONUS: Someone has a crush.

"Brother, Your package has arrived— What are you... Are you making fan art of Mr. [L/n]...?"

Idia screams like a dumb girl in a horror movie as he tries to block the screen with his body.

"O-ORTHO?! WH-WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT KNOCKING FIRST??!"

"And... what's with the pose?"

Ortho tilts head innocently, confused on why his brother is drawing a new student in a pose that can often be seen on videos that are called "Thirst traps". he's still confused about why they're called that way.

Idia: "O- ORTHO THIS ISN'T ANYTHING BAD I SWEARAHGJSI—"

*Starts to fuckin steam*

"brOTHER YOU'RE BURNING THE CHAIR!"

"AH CRAP!"

← Pr.3 | Chapter List | Pr. 5 →

Don't forget to like, comment and reblog guys, It's a big help :3

What do y'all think of the chapter? pls respond, I need feedback🥺

I woke up today and decided to kick canon's ass.

Elae: Thanks for reading this far.☺️

See y'all next time~

Next chapter: Prologue 5

@f0urleafedcl0ver

@a-traveling-void-human

@speckle-meow-meow

@leviathans-tail-scales

@citrus-cinnamon

@prefesro

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer x reader #crossover #obey me asmo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me mephisto x mc #twst x reader #twst x obey me #twisted wonderland x reader

266 notes · View notes

allysunny · 8 months

Note

Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.

Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)

A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.

I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!

“Your what?”

“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.

Scratch that, you were scared shitless.

A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.

“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.

She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.

“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”

It made you shudder just from thinking of it.

You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.

You ran all options through your head.

If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.

Hard pass.

If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.

Hell no.

No option seemed good enough.

In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.

That’s not something you wanted for yourself.

You considered your mother’s words.

Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…

There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.

And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.

Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.

You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.

You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.

You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.

He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.

That’s why he was perfect.

Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.

“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”

Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.

“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “

“Sure.”

Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?

“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”

You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.

You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?

“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”

Nanami simply nods.

“Shall I pick you up at seven?”

Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.

A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”

A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”

A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.

You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.

Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.

A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.

From: Nanami Kento

I’m outside.

You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.

He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.

You don’t know what to say.

So, he does it for you.

“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.

His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.

“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”

“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”

As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.

There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.

“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”

“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.

“They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.

Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.

If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.

Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.

To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.

Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.

Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.

Sure, it was hard at first.

You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.

But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.

Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.

Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry.”

It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.

“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.

For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.

“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.

Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.

“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”

He nodded once again.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.

Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.

She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.

Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.

“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.

“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”

And she did, staring right at Nanami.

“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”

You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.

Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.

“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.

“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”

When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.

He wasn’t expecting this.

“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.

“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.

“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.

“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”

Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?

“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?

“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “

“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.

Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.

While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.

“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.

“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.

“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.

God, you loved to see him smile.

At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.

Here, though?

He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.

“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.

“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.

“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”

Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.

Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.

“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”

He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.

“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.

And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.

For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.

You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.

It felt too good to be true.

Probably because it was.

After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.

You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.

“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.

You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.

“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”

“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”

You were done.

This comment had been the final straw.

You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?

Were you simply not worthy of love?

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.

“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”

Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.

You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.

“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”

You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.

And according to him, so were you.

He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).

It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.

So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.

You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.

And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.

Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.

After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.

Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.

“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.

The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.

The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.

You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.

Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.

You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.

“So…” Why were words so hard?

You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?

“I hope you know it is not true.”

“Huh?” You met his eyes.

“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.

Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”

You could just stare at him in awe.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”

A date? With him?

“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“

“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”

In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.

You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.

A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!

Have an amazing day everyone! <3

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami reader x yn #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami headcanons #nanami drabbles #nanami x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

517 notes · View notes