#the last thing i want is for anyone to think i’ve forgotten this fic - nothing could be further from the truth! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maybeimamuppet · 1 year

Text

i fell and you helped me to stand

hello everyone!! i hope you’re having a great day!! welcome to this lil sickfic :)

i also wanted to say a quick thank you for all the love on my last fic!! it was truly so so so much more than i was expecting and i so appreciate all the engagement. much love to you all <3

tw for

illness

vomit

mentioned/implied previous abuse

and if i’ve missed anything please let me know so i can put it in!!

enjoy!

—————

Agatha Trunchbull was correct about very few things when it came to children. The children of the former Crunchem Hall gradually learned that they were not maggots, not squirmy little vermin who deserved to be trampled and locked away until they reached adulthood.

But she was correct about one singular point.

Children are germy. Snotty, sickly, little bags of germs. Not exclusively, of course. But germy nonetheless.

Matilda knew she didn’t have the strongest immune system. She hadn’t seen a doctor until she was five, since her parents had simply forgotten she’d be in need of healthcare. She hadn’t had any vaccines, and she’d had no other children to play with and build up any sort of immunity that way.

It was really only a matter of time before she got sick. But this? This is worse than anyone could’ve imagined.

—-

It starts innocently enough. Matilda wakes on a Tuesday morning with a tickle in her throat and an ache in her head.

Miss Honey says tea can fix anything, so Matilda requests a cup alongside her orange juice with breakfast. She read enough cartons of orange juice as a toddler to know all the vitamins on the ingredients label by heart. They should help get this bug away nice and quick.

“Goodness,” Miss Honey says when Matilda gives a violent sneeze as soon as her eggs are rested in front of her. “Bless you.”

“Excuse me,” Matilda says sheepishly.

“Of course, love. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine, thank you Miss Honey,” Matilda says rapidly. She stuffs a bite of breakfast into her mouth to avoid having to answer any further questions.

Her stomach begins to ache as soon as she gets it all down. She’s hoping she just ate too quickly. Miss Honey looks at her oddly as she pops up like a little gopher and rushes to start doing the dishes.

“Matilda, dear, the dishes don’t need to be done so quickly,” she says in concern. “I haven’t even finished yet!”

“They need doing,” Matilda shrugs. “I might as well get them done quickly.”

“Doing them is not your job, Matilda.”

“It isn’t yours either,” Matilda mumbles as she rests the plate in the drying rack. “Aren’t children meant to have chores?”

“Well, yes,” Miss Honey admits. “But… you should have chores so that we can have a tidy home. As long as they get done before we leave the house, where is the harm?”

Matilda sniffles and surreptitiously wipes her nose off on the dish cloth. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Matilda,” Miss Honey says comfortingly, crouching down to her height and tipping her chin up. “I appreciate you wanting to help. But you mustn’t strain yourself.”

“Yes, Miss Honey,” Matilda says softly. Miss Honey frowns the slightest bit.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, darling? Your nose is a bit red.”

“I’m sure. Time for school?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Miss Honey says. Matilda rushes to grab her book bag and tie on her shoes. She gets a coughing fit she tries to silence and fumbles with her shoelaces. She shoots Miss Honey a bright smile she can’t quite force to meet her eyes and stands upright again so quickly she gets dizzy.

She loses her breath much more quickly than she normally does on their walk to school. She tries to keep her panting as quiet as she can so Miss Honey doesn’t worry. They always get to school in plenty of time, so she has time to take it a bit slower than normal.

“Are you going to wait out here for Lavender?” Miss Honey asks when they make it to the large playground in front of the school.

“Yes, I think so,” Matilda responds. Miss Honey nods, pulling out the large key to unlock the gates in front of the school and open them wide.

“I really don’t want to leave you out here all alone,” Miss Honey says in concern when she comes back to Matilda on the bench.

“I’ll be alright. It’s a nice morning,” Matilda says. “I’ll come find you should anything happen.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” Matilda confirms. She hopes Miss Honey doesn’t press any further. Talking so much is starting to hurt her throat.

“Alright, darling. Take my jumper, and come inside if you get cold. Don’t want you catching a chill,” Miss Honey says. Matilda wraps her comfy pink cardigan over her shoulders and curls into a small ball. Miss Honey gives her a goodbye hug before she clicks off into the building. Matilda takes this time for a quick nap in the cool air.

—-

Somehow, Matilda makes it through the day. She almost fell asleep in her history class and was sent to the hall to handle a coughing fit during algebra, but beyond that, she made it through nearly unscathed.

She’s hoping to start feeling better the next morning, but if anything, she only feels worse. The tickle in her throat has escalated to a burning that scratches painfully every time she speaks, swallows, or coughs. Her sinuses are congested everywhere they can be, and it’s making her head pound in addition to the sniffles she’s come down with now.

The next day gets even worse. She’s so dizzy she can hardly stand, but she claws her way through another day of school. They’ve started Pride and Prejudice in her English class, and she just can’t bear to miss a day. Or so she tells herself.

Friday, somehow, is even worse. She feels almost like she’s watching someone else puppet her body around as she gets ready for school. She’s freezing, shivering and hands shaking as she tries to tie the ribbon on the back of her uniform. It’s sloppier than she normally does, but she’s not sure she’d be able to do it again at all if she tried to make it neater.

She barely picks at her toast at breakfast. Her stomach is starting to ache on top of everything, and she can hardly stomach even the simple bread and butter. So tired.

She can tell Miss Honey is concerned, so she forces herself up and over to the sink to scrub the dishes clean and try to maintain some normalcy. It does seem to assuage Miss Honey’s suspicions well enough.

The walk to school is a mere trudge that morning. Matilda focuses on keeping steady, one foot in front of the other, and holding to Miss Honey’s warm hand.

She tries so hard, but all she can think about during her lessons is the ache in her head and how difficult it is to breathe and how sore her throat is and how much she, for once, can’t wait for the school day to end so she can go home and rest.

She gives Lavender, Nigel, and Bruce most of her lunch. She eats enough to keep her going without upsetting her stomach any more and gives them the rest. She deflates a bit when she remembers that the end of lunchtime means recess.

Miss Honey has one rule for Matilda at school that none of the other children have. She must play at recess. Miss Honey changed the schedule around so that the oldest and youngest kids have recess at the same time, so that Matilda could be in classes challenging enough for her gifted mind while also getting time to interact and play with children her age.

Matilda takes to the swings for a while, mostly just to have somewhere to sit down. Actually swinging proves to be too much for her head, so she hops down to give someone else a turn and makes her way to the slides.

Her hands and knees start shaking again as she climbs up the ladder to the top. She feels as if she’s just climbed Mount Everest, which she does actually want to do someday. Just most definitely not today.

It’s almost the opposite of what she used to feel doing her telekinesis. Instead of a burning or a fizzing in her mind; it feels cold, like all her neurons have frozen over. A strange blackness starts creeping into the edges of her vision as she pushes herself to go down.

She doesn’t remember hitting the bottom.

—————

“Miss Honey, come quick!”

“Amanda? What’s the matter?” Jenny asks in shock as the pigtailed girl throws the door to her office open.

“It’s Matilda, Miss! She went down the slide and now she won’t wake up!” Amanda says frantically.

Jenny practically leaps out of her chair and runs through the winding hallways of the school after the young girl towards the playground. Amanda leads her over to the slides, and sure enough, Matilda is lying sprawled at the bottom surrounded by a few other young ones.

“Don’t touch her, please! Let her be, children,” she yells as she goes running over. “Amanda, Nigel, would you please go fetch the school nurse? Take my badge, if anyone tries to stop you tell them I sent you and it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, Miss,” the children say, taking it and running off back towards the building.

“Did any of you see what happened?” Jenny asks the other children as she gently strokes Matilda’s hair away from her face. “How long has she been unconscious?”

“Unconkjus?” Eric questions.

“Asleep, how long has she been asleep?”

“Not long, Miss,” Bruce responds. “She was shaking when she climbed up, I tried to stop her, Miss, honest I did! And then she fell asleep going down and won’t wake up.”

“Is she dead?!” Lavender asks frantically.

“No, darling, she just fainted,” Miss Honey says soothingly. “She’ll be alright. Did she hit her head or neck on anything?”

“No, Miss Honey,” Alice says. “I saw the whole thing, she just… fell asleep.”

“Alright, not a concussion, then,” Jenny tuts to herself. “Oh, darling.”

Matilda’s eyes flutter open and she gives a pained little groan.

“Matilda? Can you hear me, love?” Jenny asks softly. She faintly hears Lavender burst into relieved tears behind her, but is too focused on Matilda to be able to comfort her. Bruce wraps the girl in a nice big hug, so Jenny feels alright focusing on Matilda for a moment.

Matilda whimpers softly, but her eyes do focus on Jenny. She licks her chapped lips before she just barely whispers a, “Yes.”

“Good, good,” Jenny says comfortingly. It seems to have the opposite effect as Matilda bursts into tears. “Oh, darling, what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” Matilda chokes. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Shh, my little firefly, it’s alright,” Jenny hushes. “Come here.”

Gently, slowly, she pulls Matilda into her lap and brushes the dirt off her back. Matilda rests limply against her shoulder and cries miserably.

“It’s alright, you’re alright, shh,” Jenny continues. “Let’s get you inside, come along. Thank you for your help, children, you all behaved very maturely today.”

“Feel better, Matilda!” Lavender calls as Jenny hoists Matilda into her arms and starts walking back towards the school building. Matilda continues weeping into her shoulder as she’s carried through the hallways to Jenny’s office.

“Oh, Miss Honey!” Nigel says as he almost crashes into her. Amanda comes around the corner with the school nurse. “We were just coming back!”

“Let’s go to my office,” Jenny says to the nurse. Amanda hands back Jenny’s badge. “Thank you, Nigel, Amanda, you can go back to your recess now.”

“Alright, Miss!” Nigel says as he and Amanda go running back to the playground. Jenny continues walking the way she was headed, and the nurse follows after her.

“What happened?” she asks as the heavy oak door closes behind them.

“She’s seemed unwell all week and she just fainted on the playground, I’m not sure,” Jenny says. She sits in her desk chair and keeps Matilda in her lap to be examined. “She hasn’t complained of anything.”

Matilda seems too exhausted to resist the treatment she gets. She obediently lets the nurse stick a thermometer under her tongue and check her pulse and blood pressure.

“She’s got a very high temperature,” the nurse says in concern. She shows Jenny the thermometer, and Jenny gawks at the number on the end. “Her vitals are a bit weak, but fine. Recess with the fever was likely just too strenuous. She’ll need plenty of rest and fluids, but she should be alright.”

“Should I take her to a doctor’s?” Jenny asks.

“I would, simply due to the… fainting spell,” the nurse surmises. “I doubt it’s anything serious, but someone should double check.”

“Alright. Thank you very much,” Jenny says. The nurse nods and packs up her equipment to head back to her office.

“I’m sorry,” Matilda chokes again.

“What are you apologizing for, darling? It’s not your fault,” Jenny hushes. “We’ll go to the doctor’s and see what’s the matter and then go home, alright?”

Matilda doesn’t respond, she just nuzzles her snotty nose closer into Jenny’s shoulder and cries. Jenny tries to hide her concern. Why wouldn’t Matilda tell her she was unwell? Why won’t she speak now?

“Come along,” Jenny says softly. She picks Matilda up again and heads to the closest classroom. “Mr. Lazella? I’m going to be out for the rest of the day, could you please let any students looking for me know? I’ll handle any concerns next week.”

“Sure thing, Miss Honey,” the man replies. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yes, she’s just feeling a bit under the weather,” Jenny replies. “We’re off to see the doctor. Thank you again.”

“Not a problem. Have a nice weekend, you two.”

“You as well,” Jenny replies. He leaves him back to his class and carries Matilda out of the building towards the gate. It’s quite a long walk to the nearest doctor. Jenny sighs and musters up all her strength to be able to carry Matilda the whole way.

They aren’t more than twenty feet down the road when a beep suddenly sounds from behind them. Jenny startles and leaps to the side of the road, but it’s only Mrs. Phelps. She squeals to a stop and pokes her head out the window.

“Afternoon, Miss Honey!”

“Oh, Mrs. Phelps!” Jenny replies. “Hello!”

“Oh, Matilda,” Mrs. Phelps says when she notices the state the young girl is in. She’s stopped crying, luckily, but she’s very clearly ill and upset as she lazes against Jenny’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

“We aren’t sure, yet. She’s had quite a day,” Jenny replies. “We’re on our way to the doctor.”

“You’ll never make it on foot! Get in, get in,” Mrs. Phelps says.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t-”

“Listen, Honey, I care about this child more than myself, get in the damn bus,” Mrs. Phelps insists. Jenny nods curtly and climbs aboard the mobile library. There’s not a spectacular amount of room to sit, but there is a folding chair that Jenny settles in and holds Matilda on her lap.

Mrs. Phelps putters the bus to life again, and soon they’re hurtling towards the town at a speed Jenny isn’t entirely comfortable with.

Before she knows it, they’re pulling up alongside the road outside the doctor’s. “I’ll wait here and give you lot a ride home. Go get her checked out.”

“Will do. Thank you very much, Mrs. Phelps,” Jenny says as she climbs back off.

“Don’t mention it.”

For the first time in nearly an hour, Jenny puts Matilda down in one of the scratchy seats in the waiting room and heads to get her checked in. She takes the paperwork she needs to fill out and settles into the chair beside Matilda.

The situation is rather dire, but Jenny smiles as Matilda leans into her shoulder with a sniffle. Her smile grows as she writes Matilda Honey into the patient name box. She fills out all her own information for the parent box, and then it gets to the reason for visit section.

Jenny writes what she knows. Fever, fainting… what else?

“What other symptoms have you had recently, darling?” she asks. Matilda’s lip starts to tremble again at the question, so Jenny desperately slides off her chair and kneels in front of her. “Oh, firefly, it’s alright. I promise you it’ll be alright. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll just ask if you’ve felt something and you give me a nod or a head shake, alright?”

Matilda sniffs again and nods. Jenny squeezes her hand and keeps it in hers as she sits back in her seat and picks up the pen.

“Stuffy nose? I can’t tell if that’s from you being so poorly or from all your crying, poor dear,” Jenny begins. Matilda nods, so Jenny marks it down. “Headaches?” Another nod. “Sore throat?” Another nod. “Stomachaches?” Yet another nod. “Chills?” Yet again, a nod. “Aches?” Matilda nods again. “Oh, sweetheart. You must be absolutely miserable.”

Matilda nods and fiddles with the hem of her dress. Jenny squeezes her hand and squishes her cheek against the top of the little girl’s head.

“Well, with any luck, the doctor will be able to tell us what to do to get you feeling better,” Jenny says.

A nurse comes by and very kindly takes the paperwork back to the desk for her so Jenny doesn’t have to leave Matilda’s side. They have a short wait for the doctor, during which Jenny points out all the fun decorations on the walls around them. Matilda doesn’t so much as smile.

Eventually, another nurse calls for Matilda, so they follow her back towards an examination room. Matilda hops up onto the table and wiggles in discomfort at the crinkle of the paper beneath her. Jenny sits in the chair against the wall while Matilda gets her basic vitals checked yet again.

“Very high temperature, poor little dear,” the nurse tuts again. She gently guides Matilda to stand to check her height and weight. Jenny’s glad to see she’s grown a few inches and put on a few pounds since coming to live with her. Getting Matilda to eat properly has been one of the biggest struggles of their entire ordeal. “Everything else seems alright. The doctor will see you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Jenny says genuinely. The nurse nods and shuts the door. Matilda is fidgeting with her fingers, wringing them tightly in her palms before loosening her grip and then repeating the motion with the other hand. Jenny stands, heads over to her, and gently runs a finger from her wrist down to her first fingernail. “Almost done, darling. The doctor just needs to examine you and then we can head home.”

Matilda nods, and watches as Jenny traces all the bones in her little hand. She croaks, “What will the doctor do?”

Jenny suddenly remembers that Matilda has only been here once so far for a well check, not when she’s been ill. No wonder she’s so anxious, she has no idea what to expect.

“She’s going to read everything the nurse took down and that we put on your paperwork so she knows what she’s working with, and then she’s going to come in here. She’s probably going to ask us some questions about what’s happened and a bit more about what you’re feeling. Then she’ll check your eyes, ears, and throat to see if she can tell visibly what the matter is,” Jenny begins. “And she’ll check your heart and breathing. She might touch your neck to see if you have any swelling, and she might check your reflexes. If you’d like, we could ask her to explain why she’s doing things before she does them.”

Matilda nods. “Yes, please.”

“Alright. I’ll let her know when she comes in,” Jenny promises. She stays standing against the wall so she can hold Matilda’s hand and provide some comfort.

The doctor comes in and washes her hands as she gives them a greeting. As promised, Jenny asks if she wouldn’t mind telling Matilda what she’s going to do and why during the examination. The doctor knows a bit of their history; that Matilda has a history of abuse and a brilliant mind, and agrees readily.

As Jenny expected, it begins with a conversation as she shines a light into Matilda’s eyes (to check for infection, and see how quick her brain tells her pupils to contract in response to the light) and ears (much the same reason).

Matilda tells the doctor that she’s been feeling unwell since Tuesday morning when she woke up, and that she’s felt worse every day since. Jenny curses herself for not noticing or making the child stay home and rest. How could she not have noticed?

“Doesn’t look to be strep throat,” the doctor says as she peeks down Matilda’s throat. “Say aah, please. That will lift your tonsils and lower your tongue so I have a better view. Mm… not tonsillitis either, though there is a fair bit of inflammation.”

Jenny squeezes Matilda’s hand as the doctor massages around her throat to check for swelling.

“Well, by the looks of things and your symptoms I think this is just a particularly nasty flu,” the doctor says as she concludes the examination by listening to Matilda’s heart and breathing. “Her heart sounds fine, and she doesn’t have the sounds of pneumonia. I think the fainting was just working too hard with such a high fever.”

“The flu,” Jenny breathes, relieved it isn’t something more serious. The doctor nods.

“You can give her your standard over-the-counter flu medication according to the directions to help ease her symptoms. And beyond that, all she needs is hydration, food, and rest,” she explains.

“Alright. Thank you, Doctor,” Jenny says.

“Anytime. And come see us a bit earlier next year for your inoculation,” the doctor says with a wink. “Feel better, Matilda.”

She leaves then, so Jenny helps Matilda down from the table and leads her out of the building. Matilda manages to climb into the mobile library herself this time, and Jenny follows right behind her.

“What’s the problem, then?” Mrs. Phelps asks.

“Nasty flu, poor thing,” Jenny says. “It is the season for it, I suppose.”

“That it is,” Mrs. Phelps nods. “You need anything else or is it straight home?”

“I should pick up a few things from the shops,” Jenny tuts to herself. “Would you mind a quick stop?”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Phelps replies. Jenny once again wonders how this woman ever got a driver’s license as they’re off to the nearest store to pick up some sick day supplies.

“Matilda, do you just want to stay with Mrs. Phelps? I won’t be long,” Jenny asks. Matilda nods and curls in on herself in her chair. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Jenny rushes into the shop and straight to the medication aisle. Matilda loves strawberries, so she grabs that flavor of children’s flu medicine and a bag of cough drops.

She adds some crackers, ginger ale, and some extra tea to her basket as well. Her shop is completed with some ingredients for a nice soup, and she’s back on the bus in under five minutes.

“Wow, that really was quick,” Mrs. Phelps says in slight shock.

“Yes, well,” Jenny replies airily, smoothing down her hair and dress. She can tell by the look Mrs. Phelps gives her that she understands. Her daughter is ill, and she’s worried.

“Let’s get you two home,” Mrs. Phelps says. Jenny goes to the back of the bus and takes her spot next to Matilda again.

“Almost home. Then you can rest,” she whispers. Matilda nods without looking at her. Jenny frowns in concern and squeezes her hand. Matilda gives a weak squeeze back and continues staring at her shoes.

Mrs. Phelps has them home in no time. Jenny climbs off first and helps Matilda down the steps. Matilda starts a slow trudge off towards the house after weakly thanking the librarian for all her help. Jenny’s about to follow her when Mrs. Phelps suddenly calls a, “Miss Honey!”

“Yes?” Jenny replies, taking a few steps back towards the library. A large stack of books is suddenly thrust at her. “Oh, my goodness.”

“You’ll need supplies,” Mrs. Phelps says. “Her favorites, and a few new ones.”

“Thank you,” Jenny says genuinely. “And thank you for driving us about. If I can ever return the favor somehow, do please let me know.”

“Just get that girl feeling better,” Mrs. Phelps says with a wink.

“Will do,” Jenny says. She waves as Mrs. Phelps goes peeling and puttering out of sight before she meets Matilda at the front door. “Alright, got loads of books for us to read while you’re down for the count. Look at these!” Matilda gives a weak smile as Jenny finds the right key and unlocks the door. “You alright, love? You’re looking a bit green.”

Jenny finds out why quite quickly. Matilda’s barely in the house before she’s bending over and her lunch is making a reappearance. Jenny almost drops the books in her panic, but manages to catch them again at the last second, rest them on the table inside the door and go rub Matilda’s back.

“Oh, firefly,” she murmurs as Matilda retches again. “Get it up, darling, poor thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Matilda sobs as soon as she’s finished. “I-I’ll clean it up, I promise! I’m sorry!”

“You will not clean it up,” Jenny promises. “It’s alright, love, you didn’t mean it. You’re unwell. You’re going to go rest.”

“But-”

“Matilda, I’ve been a primary school teacher for ten years. I’ve seen plenty of vomit,” Jenny says. “Come on.”

Jenny reaches a hand for her. Matilda hesitates, like she doesn’t believe she quite deserves to take it, before she steps her way around the puddle and follows Jenny up the stairs to her room.

Jenny roots through her dresser to find Matilda’s coziest pajamas and rests them on her bed. Matilda watches, crying pitifully, and she startles a bit when Jenny goes to crouch in front of her.

“Can I help you get changed or would you like privacy?” Jenny asks. One step at a time.

“Help?” Matilda asks. “But I-”

“You were sick. That’s not your fault, darling,” Jenny comforts. “I’m not upset with you.”

“But-” Matilda says again.

“Matilda,” Jenny insists. “You had no control over that. It happens sometimes. Would you be mad at me for getting ill?” Matilda shakes her head. “So is it fair for me to be upset with you for getting ill?” Matilda thinks for a moment before she shakes her head again with a little sniffle. “Exactly. We’re going to get you all taken care of, and you’re going to rest. That’s all you’re responsible for right now.”

“Yes, Miss Honey,” Matilda mumbles. “I think I need help.”

“Alright, darling. Turn around for me,” Jenny says. Matilda does, so Jenny slides her jacket off her shoulders and undoes the bow at the back of her uniform dress. Matilda does her best to undo the buttons at the collar and lifts her arms so Jenny can lift it over her head.

Jenny places it in the hamper to be washed since it didn’t quite survive Matilda getting sick unscathed. But it can wait a little while. She grabs the pajamas (patterned with cats, as they learned they both love) and helps Matilda step into the legs and get her arms through the sleeves before she buttons her into it.

“There we are,” she says as she does the last one. “Now, would you like to get into bed or go rest on the sofa?”

“Bed, please,” Matilda says softly. Jenny nods and pulls back the duvet. Matilda crawls in and grabs her stuffed worm that Lavender had gotten her for her birthday. Jenny tucks her in tight and kisses her feverish forehead. “Are you… coming back?”

Jenny turns from grabbing Matilda’s clothes out of the laundry hamper and looks at her. “Of course, love. I just need to go tidy up a bit and fetch your things and then I’ll be right back. Promise.”

Matilda nods and nestles further into her blankets. Jenny smiles fondly and leaves the door cracked open behind her.

Matilda’s uniform goes right into the wash with their favorite soft, floral smelling detergent. Jenny grabs some cleaning supplies from the closet and braces herself. She has seen a lot of vomit in her time as an educator, but she still doesn’t care to keep its company.

She manages to clean the whole thing with only one gag of her own, which is a record for her. Jenny puts the supplies back and adds the food she’d purchased earlier to the fridge before carrying the rest (with the addition of a large bowl, just in case) back up to Matilda.

Matilda is staring patiently at the door. She smiles faintly when she sees Jenny really did come back. Jenny’s heart breaks the slightest bit as she heads over and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Alright, we’ve got this in case you need to be sick again. But I think that was just Mrs. Phelps’ driving,” Jenny jokes. Matilda giggles quietly. “And your medicines, and some crackers and soda to help settle your stomach and get that nasty taste out of your mouth. And I bought everything to make you some soup for dinner tonight, alright? Oh, and your books Mrs. Phelps gave us.”

“Thank you,” Matilda says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, darling,” Jenny says, stroking her cheek. “But I do have a question for you.” Matilda looks at her like a kicked puppy. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling so horrible, love? You didn’t have to come to school this week.”

“I thought I’d get better,” Matilda says sheepishly, twisting the ends of her worm together and undoing it again over and over. “If you knew I was ill you’d either have had to stay home with me or spend the entire day worrying for me. You love your job.”

“Oh, Matilda,” Jenny chides lovingly. “I do love my job, but I love you more. You didn’t get better like you were expecting to because you didn’t let yourself rest. You pushed yourself too hard. It’s not your job to take care of me. If you feel ill or like you need to miss a day or two of school you need to let me know, darling.”

“But we take care of each other,” Matilda protests.

“We do,” Jenny agrees. “But only when we’re feeling well enough to do so. You’ve done amazingly well, for being so sick. But it’s time to rest and recover for a while. You’re taking care of me as best you can, but your best is weaker for a little while. I get to take care of you just a little extra until you’re back on your feet.”

Matilda thinks this over for a moment before she nods. “I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“I only worry because I love you, darling,” Jenny comforts. “You’re… you’re my daughter.” That gets a smile. “I always worry about you. But I’m a grownup. I have people and strategies to help me through my worried feelings. It’s not your job to try to prevent them.”

Matilda nods again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s alright, firefly. I understand why you didn’t,” Jenny says quietly. “But you’ve got to tell me next time. Anytime you’re feeling some way you don’t think you should, you’ve got to let me know.”

“Okay,” Matilda croaks in agreement. Jenny smiles and kisses her feverish forehead.

“Good girl. Now, let’s get some medicine in that poor little body,” she says. She reads the dosage directions on the side of the bottle before pouring the proper amount of the unnaturally red liquid into the cap.

Matilda eyes it suspiciously when she hands it to her. “This is going to make me better?”

“It won’t taste like it, but yes, it will,” Jenny chuckles. “It’ll lower your fever and hopefully help that cough, and that’ll help with your chills and aches too.”

“Can I read the bottle?” Matilda asks as she brings it to her lips. Jenny furrows her brow in confusion, but she nods and hands it to Matilda as she swallows the strawberry syrup. “Blech, this tastes like strawberry shoe polish!”

“I did tell you it wasn’t going to be nice,” Jenny giggles. She cracks open a can of the soda and hands it to her. “Here, have some of this. Get the taste out of your mouth.”

Matilda eagerly takes the can and swallows a few good gulps of it. She stretches to try to rest it on her nightstand, but can’t quite reach, so Jenny gently takes it and rests it on the white wooden table. Matilda continues reading the label of the medicine interestedly, trying to piece together how strawberry shoe polish could possibly be such a miracle worker.

Once she’s satisfied with the information she’s gotten she hands the bottle back to Jenny.

Jenny stands and prepares to head down to start preparing dinner. She pauses just before her hand touches the doorknob and turns around when she hears a little, “Don’t go.”

Matilda looks so pitiful, so… young, curled up in her large bed all alone. Her cheeks are flushed pink with her fever, and her eyes are a bit glassy. She reaches out a little hand for Jenny.

“Please?” she begs softly. Jenny can’t find it in her heart to deny the little girl. She rests the things she was going to take downstairs on Matilda’s desk and heads back to the bed.

“Budge up,” she says gently. Matilda beams and scoots over to make room and latches to Jenny’s side like a little magnet when she’s in place.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Jenny holds her close and kisses her hair.

“Of course, my little firefly,” she whispers back.

“Will you read to me please?” Matilda asks softly. Jenny is briefly surprised. They read together a lot, but Matilda usually reads to her while Jenny does housework or paperwork. It’s quite a rare occasion for things to go the other way. Jenny nods with a smile. Matilda crawls over her to grab a well-loved copy of Paddington off the top of the stack and hands it to her. It’s not quite on par with the advanced literary classics Matilda is partial to, but it’s still one of Jenny’s favorites, and one Matilda certainly deserves to hear read to her.

Matilda hesitates for a moment before she lies down again directly on top of Jenny, her head on Jenny’s chest and the rest of her torso pressed against her stomach. Jenny blinks back loving tears and smooths down Matilda’s hair with a smile.

She rests the book on Matilda’s back and pulls it open with a fond grin. She feels a matching one against her chest as she begins to read.

Jenny strokes through Matilda’s hair with her free hand, pausing only to turn the pages when she needs to. Matilda listens to her voice and feels the rising and falling of her chest as she breathes beneath her head.

Eventually, Matilda’s breathing begins to slow and even out. Jenny carefully marks their page and rests the book to the side as Matilda begins to drift off to sleep.

“I love you, Mummy,” Matilda yawns, rubbing her eyes and shifting a bit before she’s out for the count. Jenny beams and holds her daughter tightly against her.

“I love you so much, my little miracle.”

—————

thank you for reading!! have a lovely day!!

#matilda #matilda 2022 #matilda the movie musical #matilda musical #matilda the musical #matilda 1996 #matilda wormwood #miss honey #jennifer honey

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dollsuguru · 3 months

Note

Jin itadori x Kenjaku in kaori's body. Assign a trope for them 👀

OHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDDD OFMFKDNDKD OKAY OKAY OKAY UMMMMMMM. AHHHHHHHHHH OKAY

i have a FEW ideas bc they make me insane and i wish we got more panels of them SO bad 😭😭😭

— jin fell first, but kenjaku fell harder

i actually am obsessed w the idea that kenjaku saw jin itadori one day and found out that his wife has died and when he realized that kaori had anti-gravity he was like… i can use this. OR. kenjaku wanted jin all to themselves and took kaori out of the picture… i’m fine w either idea! & obviously jin is inundated w such grief that he doesn’t even care that his dead wife came back… he’ll take what he can get he’s so far gone w his grief & love that he won’t hear anything else about it… things happen and kenjaku ends up w a child and jin cares for yuji so deeply! jin takes kenny & yuji to the playground and plays with bubbles which makes yuji AND kenjaku laugh and chase them (which would make kenjaku still be fond of bubbles & the youthfulness/playfulness of playgrounds) this would be a sweet idea for a fic but also a bit sad… i think kenjaku kills jin and for the first time in their life feels remorse & regret… -> ties back to kenjaku a decade and a half into the future saying “regret, huh? i’ve forgotten what that feels like.”

— kaori silly insane wife & jin cuddly fond husband <3

i love seeing art of kenjaku just being Insane and hilarious and very much Not being a Normal Human Being but jin is so down bad he’s like :3 hehehe that’s my wife :3 also to anyone who says kenjaku took backshots, i’m of the personal belief that kenjaku rode jin to the sunset 🙏🏼 nothing but respect for MY cowgirl queen! <333

— jin comes back and kenjaku is in shambles

this would’ve been so perfect imo… if jin was in shibuya and found yuji (his son) and wanted to protect him even though he has no cursed energy/fighting prowess! kenjaku left jin alive, he just left him (which broke jin when it happened but he had in intuition that it’d never last -> kenjaku ends up tampering w jin’s memories so he never got to see yuji/his father again - until now ofc) and this would have been awesome to see if kenjaku was still alive (still is imo) and he’s in geto’s body and when he sees jin he just… stops working. for the first time in a millennia he’s shocked… he reverts back to kaori for a second, “my love…” and jin just stares at him in anger bc he KNOWS kaori’s/kenjaku’s soul/brain is in geto’s body and jin stands in front of yuji to protect him and says “how dare you?” kenjaku feels remorse/guilt for the first time yet he knows he can’t give up his plans yet… certain things ensue and i haven’t thought that far ahead but yeah. would’ve been cool to see jin in the mix!

#asks #anon #also jin itadori should’ve been banged by toji fushiguro but you didn’t hear that from me #yeah you did. DILFS DILFS DILFS!!!!!

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bi-aragorn · 1 year

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AO3 Wrapped - 2022

Thanks for the tag @damnbert! Let’s see how this goes- my stats are gonna be wacky because I wrote loads in November and still haven’t posted a thing (but lbr I think I did the same last year) so the last thing I put up on AO3 was in June woops

Also, despite the absolute state of this blog at this point, all the fics I posted on AO3 this year are still Witcher ones

Works Published: 33

Word Count: 28,764

Bookmarks: 368

Most Popular By Kudos: A Strange Pair - it’s the fucking bat!Jaskier fic. *sigh* Look, there’s nothing wrong with this fic I’m just amused that one I bust out super fast for Halloween 2021 and then didn’t post till January 2022 is somehow on here.

By Hits: Jask, please?

This one is- well it’s porn. It’s Geraskier again (classic) and I think this one is pretty good tbf, it’s just a massive 180 from the fluffy little bat fic above it.

Longest: In Which Geralt Is An Absolute Slut (Affectionate) - I wrote this one for a challenge from @fontegagrilledcheese. It’s kinda messy but the concept is neat and, shockingly, this fic is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. Geralt fucks.

Shortest: Ah shit. Technically this one is a 8 way tie for 8 different drabbles I wrote for an event. Have this one- Come on, Princess. It’s Yenfri, thigh riding in exactly 100 words.

Most Comments: It’s the god damn bat again

Fic that made me cry: Another Drink - didn’t make me cry but probably one of the sadder ones I’ve posted this year?

Fic that made me smile: Stay Inside Together - soft modern AU Yenskier with trans!Jaskier. It’s just soft.

Gift: to someone - Smooch? Smooch. I posted this in January for @himbo-half-orc and I’d almost forgotten about it. Shower singing silliness.

From someone - To the tune of you by the lovely @goofgoofdildo from an event I ran in July, features Geralt and his collection of many, many bards hehe

Events: I did a fair few to be honest, but I think my favourite was the @thepassifloradiscord Smut Battle, link to all the event fics is here there’s some brilliant stuff in there:)

And I’m gonna tag @dapandapod, @jaskierswolf @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @kueble & @officerjennie - and anyone else who wants to have a go, please have at it!

#shay's mutterings

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bleachbleachbleach · 2 years

Text

9/11/2022

I have been really stressed out and overworked and overstimulated (and then I make it worse by going on Tumblr and further overstimulating myself because I am an idiot), and all around just completely exhausted and I do not presently know how to make these things less true. But this morning I woke up before my alarm, so I just started writing.

Kensei’s chapter this time, not entirely by conscious decision, but I feel good about what came of it, especially since Kensei is someone I didn’t really think about prior to this fic, so I feel like I need to put extra work into trying to do right by him.

Today’s spoils:

Two rogue Hitsugaya lines from a completely different chapter, written while I was putting the groceries in the car (from Akon’s POV, for the obligatory Akon quota)

Swapped the positions of the [unwritten] Kira and Ichigo chapters, which feels like a genius move right now and I hope doesn’t mess up the narrative in ways that were obvious when I first ordered these things and that I’ve since forgotten

Part of a Kensei & Rose conversation that is so long it’s making me realize Kensei’s chapter is about to be a billion words and for what??

In any case, here is part of that conversation, because every camping trip needs a ghost story:

"Did you know Shiba Kaien?" Kensei asks.

"Not any more than you, I imagine. The Shiba were never over-interested in us, nor us in them. Different circles."

"How many circles can there possibly be? Isn’t that nobility’s whole thing, flitting around circling each other?"

Rose’s lips harden into a thin line. A delicate subject. In the twenty-something months since their return to Soul Society, Rose has not returned to his family home. It’s unclear to Kensei whether this is by his choice or theirs, and he isn’t going to ask.

Rose disentangles himself from his personal issues. "Shiba Kaien became head of the Shiba clan very young," he says. "As a figurehead, mostly—they certainly weren’t going to put the fate of a Great Noble house in the hands of a child, much less that child—which was all the better when he joined the Gotei. Kuchiki aside, you’ll notice they usually don’t do that. Out of respect for the notion of 'lifespan.'"

"And the—"

"Shihouin Yoruichi has always done whatever she wants."

This last, Rose infuses with a note of finality, though he’s already shown his hand. Rose knows Kaien’s circle better than he cares to tell. But Kensei never tries to take more than what is freely offered, and he’s run with Rose long enough to know there won’t be more. Shiba Kaien, crib notes edition: A figurehead and then a shinigami, growing up hiding behind Ukitake’s skirts. Dead.

Hisagi had taken the name Shiba Kaien very seriously when Kensei had briefed him on the mission. Evidently, he’d felt some type of way about the man, but it wouldn’t be the first time Hisagi had held weird reverence for nothing. That was kind of his thing.

"I think—" Rose says suddenly. Kensei’s eyebrows arch.

"I think what bothers me most is that we’ve been presented with a premise, correct? Shiba Kaien is dead, and Kuchiki Rukia is the next best thing. That’s typical Gotei slapdashery, of course. Nothing terribly unusual. But how is it, do you suppose, that everyone else from the Shiba Kaien deployment is dead now, too?"

Kensei snorts. Why, does he suppose? It’s impossible to wonder why any given shinigami is dead. He’d just buried bodies for a month straight—not that anyone was counting. There’d been a war. It’s not like it was the first war, and it won’t be the last one. People die, soldiers quicker than most. That’s it.

He says, "You feelin’ superstitious?"

"Long dead," Rose presses. "That was my captain who went. You’ll recall the circumstances of my promotion. And the 10th, too—that was before our little Incident. Their captain and lieutenant both. Kuchiki Soujun is dead—I heard it wasn’t long after us. Then Shiba Kaien and the Teranishi girl, Miyako—apparently she and Shiba Kaien wed, by the way—and your two, Hanabi and Hoshino. Also dead."

That’s who’d gone, then. Kensei remembers them. Hanabi had been killed on patrol—it would’ve been a few years after this Shiba Kaien thing. Officially, a drowning. The report was light on gory details but there’d been some insinuation Hanabi had been in pieces first, and only afterward had he gone into the water. Hoshino, Tousen killed.

"You looked all this up."

"Of course I looked all this up," Rose says, folding his arms. "Kyouraku would be a fool to trust that we trust him."

#stories for the sea #no brain just bleach

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bereft-of-frogs · 1 year

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Thanks for the tag @hettolandija! Also I think someone else tagged me in this a while ago. Possibly multiple someones. So I am very sorry I forgot who that was and it was a very long time ago. Onwards:

🎨 favourite colour: Dark green to dark blue and everything in between. (Like all the blue-green shades...stunning.)

📖 currently reading: I just finished Battle Scars (while I was supposed to be working ha, couldn’t help myself) (I don’t know how anyone comes away from this book not being obsessed with Cere) and I think next I’m going to reread This Is How You Lose The Time War because all the hubbub has been making me want to reread.

🎶 last song: R-Evolve, Thirty Seconds to Mars. Ok look, Jared Leto is a terrible person but he had a pretty decent alt rock emo band when I was in high school and it unfortunately embedded itself in my brain and my ‘time capsule’ playlist is really fun to run to

🎬 last movie: The last movie I actually sat down and paid attention to was Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3. The last movie I had on in the background while I was writing was...lol Paranormal Activity.

📺 last series: Ghoul on Netflix which was just okay plot-wise, but pretty fun horror effects and atmosphere. I also finished it last night (it was only 3 episodes) so I’ll need to pick a new one tonight. I’m also rewatching Community.

🍴sweet, spicy, savoury: I think they all have their place, but gotta end with a sweet.

🤤 craving: Something sweet. I have nothing.

☕ tea or coffee: Coffee, 100%! I actually don’t really like tea, except for Lemon-Ginger with honey when I’m sick.

🤓 currently working on: I’m just happy to be working on anything. I feel like I’m still sort of finding my footing after being a mess of writer’s block and anxiety for months. I have a whole bunch of drafts that I could feasibly finish: the murder mystery fic I started posting last night, something for my bad things happen bingo card (which I haven’t forgotten about!), this one other thing about a grave, or the super long wip about a serial killer (though I think I’ve fucked up the timelines might have to be scrapped), or my magnum opus about death gods and rivers I swear I’ll finish one day.

I’ve got lots of options! I’m no longer stuck in that anxiety spiral! (Knock on wood lol) Exciting! As usual, please consider this an open tag as I have no idea who has already done this meme or wants to or...etc. Open tag! Go forth!

#thanks for asking!

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 1 year

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Interdimensional Therapy AU - Part 5

A crossover fic with @laughteronsilverwings!

Previous Part || Next Part

(starts with s!jeanist and changes pov with the - )

Tsunagu considered. “Well. What kind of lock do you have on your door? Digital or physical? And do you have cameras in your halls? Stairwell? Is there a way for us to sneak out without alerting anyone through the door?”

He paused to answer the question. “I’ve walked on electric cabling before. And I can balance on those… wire fences? The ones that are steel and have wires in diamond patterns. And I’m decent at running rooftops quietly. I’ve jumped out of windows before, but I haven’t ziplined.”

Tsunagu’s pretty sure he can pick a physical lock with the wires he has on him. Though, depending on how expensive it was, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. And in his experience, ‘proper locks’ tended to be surprisingly easy to pick, if you could manipulate wires-slash-cables like he could. “I don’t mind going out the window, though,” He muses. “Any cameras? Trackers on you?”

Tsunagu stretched his arms out. “Well, picking the lock or just- shutting off the mechanism inside would work pretty easily… but first, there are cctv cameras and other heroes that live in this building. And second,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I kinda don’t wanna have it messed with…”

He turned to the balcony. “Well, good to know you are well experienced.” He raised his eyebrow. “If you are okay with the window idea, taking note we are on the highest floor of one of the tallest buildings on this side of the city, then feel free to follow me out onto the balcony!”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I do this very often. I have a method.” He paused in thought, realizing how dodgy it sounds to try and lead a fifteen-year-old him, that wasn’t him- well, no, anyone, out onto a balcony in the means of jumping off.

“Up to you, though. It’s pretty high though it doesn’t faze me- I’d say it's the most efficient way out and onto the street without getting caught.”

Tsunagu peeked over the balcony, Jean standing next to him. It’s not that high. Then again, he’d free climbed the Eiffel Tower a few times, so maybe his standards were skewed. “I’m fine with it. How do we get down? Do you use… wires?”

He buttoned up the trenchcoat and made sure nothing could get snagged on the way down. Including the new hair- he put it in a ponytail. “And should I take my glasses off for this?”

If he did, it’d be a little sad. The view was amazing. Tsunagu could genuinely just stare at it for an hour, maybe. The feeling of ‘you are tiny and in the end, you will die’ was bubbling up in him, but in a good way.

He doesn’t want people to pick over the corpse of his life, after he dies. Tsunagu would like to be forgotten, honestly. Probably. The universe is grand. Humanity had the potential to be grander. The city was beautiful, from up high, and sometimes down below. Stuff like that.

He takes one last look at the lights, then turns back to Jean.

Tsunagu smiled. He’d kind of zoned out for a moment, staring at the city, but he cut off his thoughts before they went anywhere and turned back around to Arcane who, seemingly, was doing the same.

“I think your glasses should be fine, as long as you stay as steady as you can. I’m keeping mine on.” He noted. “You may want to step slightly to the side for a moment.”

Using his quirk, Tsunagu pulled a large box from inside and placed it down, the lid flying off and revealing a large spool of thick cables, used for construction and many other things. He unravelled it and sent two long pieces into the air.

He made sure they were of the right length before tying them both to the railing of a shorter building’s rooftop, just opposite them, and securing this side of the cables to the balcony they were standing on.

“Industrial strength cables. Very handy for such things!” Tsunagu smiled proudly. “Back home, I just use my clothes fibers or fabric. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to implement these kinds of cables into my hero support gear.” He thought aloud.

“Anyway, there’s a rooftop stairwell just a few buildings down from that one.” He gestured to where the cables led. “So. It’s hard to explain, but, you just. Stand on the cable and steady yourself, and then lean forwards and slide. Like a zipline… except we’re on top of the cable…” He tried to explain without sounding crazy. “Just keep your own clothes and fibers balanced, don’t worry about the cables, and you’ll be fine!” He said matter-of-factly.

Tsunagu stepped up onto the railing and stood there for a moment before turning back to Arcane. “I can go first if you’d like.”

…Huh. Well. Tsunagu can very safely say that he didn’t expect this to be how Jean got around. “I’m… I can use my own way? I have my cords in my bag.” He coils them out. Bungee cords, with hooks on the end. “I have a grappling-hook thing to shoot them out with. And I usually have modified ones, but I didn’t have them with me today.”

Though. This way did look very fun. But there’s just- one question he needs to ask. “Did you steal these from a building site? They look industrial-grade. And you can’t really buy these wires without a reason, I’ve tried before.”

He’d wanted to try yanking a building down. And Tsunagu had done it, but without these wires.

He made a little harness out of the bungee cords, walked over, and also sat down on the railing, next to Jean. Then Tsunagu attaches the cord to the thicker wire. “Insurance. I wouldn’t mind dying, but I’d prefer I shimmy off of this plane of existence in my own universe. So. Can you demonstrate this to me?”

Ah. Yeah, that was fair. Arcane came from a different ‘verse and that meant there probably would be differences in the way they navigated through places.

‘Bungee cords, huh. Pretty handy to keep on you at most times.’ He made a mental note of that.

“Of course! It may be safer… actually- if you use the way you’re most used to.” He nodded, before smiling slightly at the other’s cable-related-question.

“Ah…well… you got me there-” Tsunagu laughed slightly. He had stolen those cables, and well- it was less of a steal and more of a pulled-the-cables-straight-off-of-a-building-in-construction-out-of-spite kind of thing.

The snobbish asshole, one of those rich high-up CEOs, decided he wanted to build a skyscraper right in the middle of the most scenic part of the city. Talking about getting rid of the parks and scenery… Yeah, Tsunagu hated that. Plus he was an asshole…

So Tsunagu did what everyone would’ve done -or so he tells himself- and he pulled the cables down, mid-construction, and… well… big crash! The CEO may or may not have been under the building�� but that can be ignored… Tsunagu felt no regret for that.

“Let’s just say, I stole them while they were… in use.” He laughed. “The building was crappy anyway-”

Shimmy-ing off this plane of existence… Tsunagu has never related so hard to a fifteen-year-old-not-quite-him in his life.

“Well. A demonstration, you shall have!” Tsunagu jumped up, landing on the cables and keeping himself steady. “I guess I’ll see you over there, then!”

With that, he let gravity guide his body along the cable and kept his footing steady. He’d done this so many times, it was practically muscle memory at this point. The wind whipped against his face, and he laughed a little, looking down at the road below him and getting ready to jump off onto the roof.

A small thud, and Tsunagu’s feet were safely planted on the rooftop of the other building. He spun around and gave Arcane a wave and an ‘All done!!’ signal.

Uh. Well- first problem. Physics did not work like that for him. Secondly- there was no second problem. Tsunagu’s fine with doing this, it’s just that the laws of his universe were standing in his way.

But this wasn’t his universe. But the laws might have followed him over… ehh. He’ll just walk across.

–

He ends up just strolling across the wire, bungee-cord-harness trailing behind him. Honestly, Tsunagu feels like it might’ve been a little bit faster to throw himself off and wait for momentum to cease. Ooh. Actually, would that have worked? He’s done the knife-in-building trick before, it usually ends in something snapping -be it his bones, the knife, or the building-, but it hasn’t ended in his quick and sudden death.

So it might work here? Tsunagu considers, and then his feet hit concrete. Oh. He’s arrived at the second building. “I think,” He says, serious as stone. “That we might have different physics in our worlds.”

The bungee harness unravels and sloughs back into his bag. Jean’s clapping. Tsunagu doesn’t know if he’s processed his words yet, but he appreciates the applause.

Tsunagu watched as Arcane made his way across and offered a light round of applause as he arrived. “Welcome to the other side, friend.” He jokingly said, using a flick of his wrist to untie the cables and return them back to his apartment, sliding them into the box and flinging the box inside, closing the balcony window-door-thing behind it.

“Physics? Who cares about physics-” Tsunagu chuckled, spinning around and leading them to the edge of the roof top and gesturing a few buildings down the street. “We need to get over there, to that building. There's a stairwell we can use to get down to the main street and we can go from there!”

He took a leap and landed on the next building. “It’s just a few jumps. Pretty sure you’ve mentioned you’ve used rooftops before, right?”

He scratched his head. “Oh- and if it makes it any better about the physics- I’m only sliding that way because I’m controlling all of my clothes to do so. Moving myself forward in a straight line, if that makes sense.”

Tsunagu thinks about this. It- made sense? But also not really? You know what, he’ll stop thinking about this. Physics could be bent over a desk, for all he cares about it. He’s pretty sure he’s broken a few laws, just by existing (granted, those laws weren’t determined by some fundamental, unknown, power in the universe), so Tsunagu just decides to roll with it.

“I’ve used rooftops before, yes.” He runs and jumps, throwing himself over with his quirk. Clothes and muscles, kind of. Not really- Tsunagu usually had a reinforced harness for this, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally, uh, rip out all his muscles. Or leave himself naked in the street. “Don’t worry about the physics. Ah- are we far away enough from all the bugs, now? We can continue our question-for-a-question thing. Or we could wait until we’re on the street. I don’t sense any tails.”

He catches up to Jean-slash-Wren. Tsunagu’ll keep calling him Jean in his head, and Wren using his mouth. That… probably would work. Hopefully. “I think it’s your turn to ask.”

Ah. of course. That was what they were doing.

“Oh, good point.” Tsunagu nodded. “Yeah, we’re far enough now.”

He took another leap and waited for Arcane to follow. His legs were kinda hurting. Then again, he had decided to come into work after only just recovering from having them injured by a person with a mallet-based quirk… oh well.

A question, huh? What could he ask? They’d gotten pretty sidetracked earlier, and he still is pretty curious about Arcane’s semi-personal life. Not to pry, but it is hard not to be curious about the life of someone who is not you, but also kinda is you. Sort of.

“So…any family? Siblings?” He asked, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“No,” Tsunagu replies immediately. “Well. Biologically, yes. And they’ve provided for all my material needs, but nothing more than that.” He considers. “I think I’ve seen them… maybe fifteen, sixteen times this year? Or less. It’s mostly because they bring me to those politics-parties as an accessory.” He doesn’t mind it. It’s easier this way on all three of them- his mother and father get to display the picture-perfect happy family, and Tsunagu gets left alone.

…it could have been so much worse. See- the abuse cases. He was a textbook case of neglect, kind of. Well, probably, but he didn’t care about it, he guesses? It was what had happened.

He leaps across one rooftop, rolls, and catches up. “Your legs are very long,” He observes. Jean’s also limping a little bit. It’s not really noticeable, but it’s there. “Do you want to get off and walk on ground level? Or take a break.”

“I see… sorry to hear that.” Tsunagu sighed. Yeah, that explains some things. It also puts into perspective a little more on just how different their backgrounds are. “Well…” he trailed off, thinking about what to say. “I hope you’ll find some that you can eventually call family.” He settles with saying encouragingly, with a soft smile.

He considers mentioning his own family, but thought best to leave it as it was - seeing as Arcane had made his feelings about his own family rather clear from his reply.

“Ah… my legs are rather long.” Tsunagu noted, and the fact that he was in heeled boots probably made that more obvious. And also probably a stupid thing, considering his injuries-

“Don’t worry, the stairwell is just there!” He paused, leaping on cue onto the final rooftop and waiting for Arcane. “We can head down and take a minute after we’re on ground level… unless you want to take a break for a second? That’s also fine!”

Tsunagu spots the stairwell as soon as Jean points it out. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” He jumps over an air-conditioning unit, and lands on the stairs after a little bit more jogging. “So- my question.”

He thinks about it. Oh. He’s got it. “Were you a vigilante? I was. Well, am.” Tsunagu… also wants to ask about Jean’s family, dig into him a little bit, but now wasn’t really the time for this. He probably should also start looking into a way back to his universe -maybe via the guy that had sent Jean here?-, but he wasn’t too concerned about it.

There were maybe three people that would miss him. Actually, probably less.

He waits for Jean to answer at the entrance of the stairwell.

Tsunagu stopped to think for a moment. “Hmm… well, I guess so.” He enters the stairwell and starts walking down. “I did some vigilante-type stuff, back just before and in my early years of UA. But none of it was that extreme - compared to, what I’m assuming, you’ve done or have been doing.”

He turned to make sure Arcane was following him. “Mostly just helping around the neighbourhood, trying to take my mind off of some personal trauma. Or punching bad guys in the face. It was very therapeutic to throw them around and tie them up- or just kind of play with them a little, scaring them until the police arrived.” he laughed. “It still is my favourite part of hero work, actually.”

He cleared his throat, thinking about what he could ask. Ah.

“You mentioned you’re a vigilante, as of now, aren’t you? Uhh… how did you end up on the vigilante route, if i may ask?”

Tsunagu considered. “Well,” He said slowly. “I was always going to go into heroics.” How the fuck was he supposed to sum this up? “And then when I was a bit older, I started blackmailing people. So I guess that could be counted as vigilantism? But I started going out and fistfighting people on my first trip to France. Also in Paris, actually, and that whole thing was a shitshow. I give it three out of ten stars. Would not recommend.”

“And then I went back to Japan, and just kinda kept going.” He nodded. Yep. That’s good enough.

Though, it seemed like Jean had done it for longer than him, but also less… intense. Probably. Then it struck him. “Wait. Did you say- UA? The top heroics school? It’s Yuuei in my ‘verse. Um, Nedzu exists here, right?”

And he’d said that he went vigilante because of trauma. What trauma? Well, Tsunagu’s found his next question.

Hm. Well now that sounded interesting. “Paris, huh?” He smiled to himself. “Yeahh… I also had quite the eventful trip to Paris.” He thought back, making note to ask more at a later time. Arcane seemed to have experienced things there, and Tsunagu was curious.

‘Blackmail… that’s always fun.’ He made an unreadable expression. ‘Yeah, let’s leave that thought there, Tsunagu.’

Yuuei? UA? Interesting.

“Huh…” he thought, they were almost at the bottom of the stairwell now. “Yes, the top heroics school. That’s interesting… same name, but slightly different spelling and pronunciation?” He tilted his head. Little things like that made him slightly curious as to how it may be in other universes, not just his or Arcane’s. “Yes. Nedzu definitely exists…”

Of course he does. As much as Tsunagu respected him, that principal was- well- a menace to say the least.

They’d reached the end of the stairwell, stepping out onto the street. Tsunagu gestured for Arcane to follow him to a nearby bench to sit down for a moment.

“So…” he thought hard. What could he ask? Ah! Paris… “What made you come to Paris? Or- well… go. To Paris. You didn’t come here.” He laughed, sitting down.

Paris, apparently, was a constant. In that it was filled with (probable) chaos and crime. It was good to know Nedzu still existed- well, kind of? It was good for him emotionally. Maybe not for Tsunagu’s secrets, mental health, and… yeah. He was a being of pure chaotic good, in Dungeons and Dragons alignment. He’d put himself as chaotic neutral, and Jean… maybe also chaotic good? Tired good, honestly, if that was a thing.

“Yep. It’s just- a ‘u’ and an ‘a’ here, right?” The pronunciation was so… weird. It was almost exactly, just shorter, and the two words were more distinct. Also more English-y. “Paris- well, I’m not sure. I was… very sleep deprived when I booked a two-way ticket-” Tsunagu had been on a rebellious streak, and had wanted to see what sort of things he could get away with. The answer was a lot. He’d sort of rigged a few sales. Fucked a few big corporations over. Murdered a governmental official. “-to France. And it was to Paris. So, since I’d already booked it, I just kind of went.”

He shrugged. And also sat down on the step. “Oh, actually… what sort of food should we get? Do you have money? I can pickpocket a few people.”

Tsunagu’s assuming Jean knows about the criminal underground, here. Here’s to hoping they didn’t have the clockwork god cult. He doesn’t want a round… four? Six? Another round of ‘avoid light-slash-shadows’ with Aloys. “That’s not my question, though, I’m saving that after we get some food.”

He is legitimately hungry. And Jean’d said he also didn’t eat lunch, and their quirks, Tsunagu’s assuming, probably both run on calories.

Tsunagu laughed. “I see! Guess I’m not the only one who has booked a flight somewhere under the tempting hands of sleep deprivation!” Though his spontaneous trip had not been to France, it was to London… yeah, he most likely never wanted to go there again. Lasted one week, before booking an entirely new flight just to get out of there quicker.

Oh yeah, right, food. He was very hungry, and there was no doubt that so was Arcane. “Hmm…” He thought for a moment, looking down the road. This wasn’t exactly a back alley, but it was one of the smaller and less busy streets. “Well, if we carry on down that way, we’ll end up on the main road and after walking a little bit there’s a rather big night market.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “There will be plenty of different types of food there, and even some other miscellaneous stalls…” Tsunagu smiled and reached for his phone. “Don’t worry about the money, we should be f-”

Oh. Oh fuck. That’s not good.

So, his phone was dead. He sort of expected that, as these things usually go along the lines of ‘get magically teleported somewhere, try to make contact, get stuck because the process killed all means of communication.’ This wasn’t any different. But no. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he didn’t have money on him.

This was his work phone, and usually he carried his card and some money with him in the phone case in case of emergency - because it takes up less space than his wallet - like now. But unfortunately, it looks like he had either left it at home or it had fallen out and been stolen. And neither of those situations helped right now, though he knew what he’d prefer.

“Ahh…ha…” He turned to Arcane awkwardly, holding up his phone. “So… maybe we may have to do a bit of pocket picking- my money isn’t here.”

Well. At least they weren’t in Japan. Pro hero Best Jeanist can’t risk that. Luckily, over here, he is Wren, not Best Jeanist - meaning that such matters can be dealt with in… a much less legal way, without him worrying about public image. Like last time!

“Oh well.” He shrugged, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Guess we might as well hop to it. I dunno about you, but I’m pretty excited for some food right now.” He hopped to his feet and stretched.

“Oh! One more thing!” He’d just remembered. “How’s your French?”

--------------End Part---------------

#bnha #best jeanist #hakamada tsunagu #interdimensional therapy au #:D #brain isnt here rn so here have this with no commentary from me this time

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borahae-777 · 1 year

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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 13: Whatever I Fill Becomes Emptier

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 160k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

“Don’t apologize, Tae. I’m glad he has someone he feels so close to, I know I’ve been monopolizing Kookie and that Hobi is trying to stay neutral. I want the best for Yoongi, and you are certainly the best,” Jimin cups Taehyung’s cheek when he’s rewarded with a boxy smile. “I mostly feel embarrassed and idiotic. He gave me an inch and I expected a mile. I’ve been so in love with him all these years that I think the minute he actually became a possibility I couldn’t keep my expectations in check. He obviously thinks that that night was a mistake and he’s probably right.”

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Taehyung is listening to Jungkook’s soft, even breathing in his ear. He’s waiting for the moment he realizes that this entire morning has been a dream sequence. He got to watch Jeon Jungkook come apart underneath them. He can still hear every single sound, feel the echo of every single tremor that went through his body as he let himself go. They’d lain there together afterwards, the silence oddly comforting. There are things they need to talk about, but not now. Nothing can mar this day.

He knows he should get up and find Jimin, find Yoongi, find Namjoon. There are so many conversations to be had and all he wants is to stay here in this bubble. He wants to look Jungkook in the eye when he wakes up, just like most mornings, except this time he wants to kiss the sleep from the maknae’s face. He wants to stay naked together, limbs intertwined. He can’t help but feel that this could be fleeting, what if something pulls them apart again?

Taehyung is resolved to appreciate this time as much as possible while it lasts and Jungkook deserves the time and freedom to explore this new side of himself. Call him selfish, but if they get separated again he doubts he’ll listen this time. He can still taste Jungkook on his tongue, he’s not giving that up for anything except one of them wanting to call it quits.

Reluctantly, he decides to get up and get dressed. He really should start talking to everyone while they have an empty day. As he grabs his sweatpants off the floor he realizes that he leaked all over the front of them and curses under his breath. He puts them on, grimacing at the stiff feeling at his crotch. He grabs a towel off of Jungkook’s desk chair and wraps it around his waist just in case he sees anyone in the hallway. There’s a notebook open to an empty page sitting on the desk and he grabs a pen and jots down a quick note. He rips the page out and folds it in half, slipping it under Jungkook’s pillow. He presses a kiss to his head before he creeps out of the room.

Taehyung walks down the hall to his room, a spring in his step. He opens his door and freezes when he sees Namjoon sitting on his bed. He figured his roommate would’ve left for some meeting or another by now.

Okay, I guess I know who I’ll be talking to first.

“Hey Namjoon, I want to sit and talk, but I need to change first. Do you mind turning around real quick?”

“Since when are you worried about changing in our room when I’m here? I used to yell at you to put on some goddamned pants.”

“Uh…I, um, I have something on my sweats. Please just turn around.”

“Alright, alright. Weirdo. Let me know when I can look back.”

Taehyung can feel his face flushing hot as he strips and hides the pants at the very bottom of his laundry basket. He pulls out a pair of black pants and a plain tshirt, just wanting to be comfortable while he has to have uncomfortable conversations with his friends. He pulls the shirt over his head and catches a whiff of Jungkook’s laundry detergent. He must have borrowed this at some point and forgotten. He can feel a goofy grin spreading across his face as he turns back around and lets Namjoon know that he’s done.

“Taehyung, you look like the cat that caught the canary. What’s with you?”

“First of all, I wanted to thank you for apologizing to the four of us. Jungkook was right, we all understood. I was perhaps the most upset with you, but I do realize that we were also careless with what happened. Second of all, I’d like to make sure that this change of heart will stick, at least from your end. I know you can’t guarantee anything outside of the seven of us, but do you really plan to go to bat for us?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been so embarrassed the past few months, I wanted to apologize sooner. Jimin may have intended our song for Yoongi, but for me…it’s my love letter to all of you. I’m in your corner, always.”

“I believe you. I trust you. Being our leader must be both the best and worst thing to ever happen to you. I don’t envy your position being everyone’s babysitter. I only ask because I’d really like the time and freedom to figure out what’s going on between me and Kook.”

“You have the time and freedom. I’m lifting all restrictions, home and public, just please be discreet and use your brains. What have you guys figured out so far?”

Taehyung immediately looks at his feet and brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He feels like a horny teenager who couldn’t control himself, but he knows he can’t and shouldn’t hide that from Namjoon. They’ve been together since they really were horny teenagers and that was so incredibly awkward for everyone. This will be a piece of cake.

“Well, we haven’t exactly talked about anything yet. We got a bit carried away,” Taehyung looks up at the leader sheepishly.

“Oh, Tae, you guys couldn’t just focus for a little while?! Wait. Is that what you ‘had on your sweats’?! Ick,” Namjoon lets out the big belly laugh that they’ve all come to love. Taehyung can’t help but smile at the goofy sound.

“Shut up! Aish. Despite your funny bone, maybe I’m glad that this was the first talk I had. This was easy compared to what’s waiting for me. Do you know where Jimin and Yoongi-hyung are? I need to go to Jimin first and talk to him about last night.”

“I’m not sure where hyung is, but I sent Jiminie to the company to dance out his stress, Hob-ah and Jin-hyung are there getting some extra practice in. After you all left the breakfast table, Jimin and I stayed to talk. I’m sure he’ll fill you in and you’ll end up with far more information than I have. He’s not very chipper right now, I’m hoping sending him to dance was the right choice.”

“Don’t worry, hyung. I’ll find him and make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything.”

Taehyung wraps Namjoon in a hug, feeling beyond grateful that he was placed in a group with this particular mix of members. Having their leader in his corner feels so good, so validating. Why was he ever afraid to come out to this beautiful family of his in the first place?

********

Jimin and Dae-hyun walk out of the cafeteria together, bussing their trays and chatting wildly. Jimin really likes his new friend, he’s quite funny and treats him like a human instead of an idol. The seven of them really don’t have enough good, honest people in their lives like him. He can’t wait to introduce them all to the happy-go-lucky blond. Dae-hyun bows his head to start down the hall in the opposite direction and it makes Jimin laugh. He wraps him in a big hug instead, any friend needs to know from the start just how affectionate he’s going to be. The other man lets out a laugh and ruffles Jimin’s hair before walking away.

“Jiminie? Who was that?”

He whirls around at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. He’s standing behind Jimin in the direction of the dance studio and looks a bit like he ran into a wall. His brows are furrowed and his mouth agape in a way that’s worrying.

“Tae! That’s my new friend Lee Dae-hyun. He’s going to be working with us behind the scenes for the company, today is his first day! We sat together at breakfast, he’s really nice. Don’t look so surprised, you know you never have to be jealous of other friends.”

“I’m glad you found someone to hang out with, it just looked to me like flirting. Can we go somewhere more private? We have a lot to talk about.”

Jimin smiles fondly at his soulmate and already feels lighter. He’s felt disconnected from Taehyung lately, they were working on their separate songs without the other even knowing about it. He laces their fingers together and leads them down the winding corridors until he finds an empty practice room and pulls him inside. He locks the door behind them and they make their way for the mats in the corner the way they always do. Sitting across from each other, Jimin isn’t even sure what topic to start with.

“So, you first Jimin-ah, tell me about how you’re feeling about last night and this morning. I know that couldn’t have been the outcome you were working so hard for and with the ban being lifted, I guess I just expected you to have gone to see Yoongi-hyung this morning and tried to work through the issues. Instead, it looks like maybe you might want to move on?”

“I would say you have no idea how hard Namjoon and I worked on that song, but you know exactly. Yours was gorgeous and I could feel your love ringing in every line. I’m so proud of you and how far you’ve come. I’m proud of our song too, I am. I just didn’t expect him to storm out like that and then this morning we bumped into each other in the hallway and went to the kitchen to talk. I laid my cards on the table and he shut down.”

“Oh no, that must have felt awful. I’m so sorry that I followed hyung out of the room last night, I can’t exactly explain why other than to assure you that he needed me specifically. I know us getting closer the past few months has made you a little uncomfortable and I want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“No. Don’t say that. It wasn’t a mistake. Yoongi doesn’t make any decisions lightly, if he kissed you first then I’m sure there was a good reason for it. I’m starting to see now what you’ve been feeling being torn between Jungkook and I lately, I just want to take you and hyung and lock you together in a room until you’re forced to get everything out in the open like you do with me. I won’t, don’t worry. It’s just hard to stay perfectly neutral.”

“I can give you some pointers, I’ve gotten pretty good at it lately.”

Taehyung launches himself at Jimin, tickling his sides relentlessly. Jimin is shrieking at the top of his lungs as they wrestle and roll across the mats. He manages to wriggle out of his soulmate’s grasp and bolts across the room as fast as he can. Tae gives chase and soon they’re sprinting in circles with cramps in their sides from laughing so hard. This is what catharsis feels like, Jimin feels this morning’s storm cloud lifting from his mind and decides he’s still going to go dance. He’d rather dance because he feels good instead of using it like therapy.

“Okay! Okay! You win! All hail Emperor Kim!”

“Sucker! I reign supreme!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out, giggling as they collapse to the floor with heaving breaths. They lie there for a few minutes before Jimin sees a hand waving in front of his face. He grabs it and hauls himself up, gathering the things that he flung across the room when they had started running.

“Come on, brat. I have other things to do and you should still go to dance practice.”

“I guess you’re right, I did already tell Hobi and Jin that I was going to join them. If I back out now, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He’s reaching for the door handle when Taehyung speaks up again.

“Hang on, you never answered my question. Are you feeling like you want to move on? Maybe with your new ‘friend’ Dae-hyun?”

“Move on, maybe, but with Dae-hyun? No, don’t be silly. I barely know the man and we are definitely just going to be friends.”

“Mhm, if you say so, Jiminie.”

“Hush, I can have friends! But before you leave I think you owe me an explanation of where you and Kookie ran off to this morning after the announcement! You’re not off the hook that easily!”

“I guess you’d better ask Kook-ah, you’d have to catch me first!”

Taehyung cackles as he rips the door open and goes bolting through it. Jimin doubles over, wheezing with laughter and shaking his head at the retreating back of his favorite goofball in the world. Damn, he’s lucky. ********

Jungkook stretches and rubs his eyes, wondering when he fell asleep and for how long. He reaches out for the warm body that should be next to his and comes up empty. He sits up and realizes the room is empty. When did Taehyung leave?

Oh no, please don’t tell me he ran away again. Not this time. Not after what we just did.

He decides to sit and wait, imagining Tae is just in the bathroom or in the shower and will be back any minute. He wouldn’t just run off. As the minutes tick by, the reassurances in his mind become less and less convincing. He should probably use the time to figure out what it is he even wants out of this.

Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Do I just want to hook up with Taehyung now and then? Do I want more? What does he want? Dammit, why didn’t we do the smart thing and talk before we got carried away? Who am I kidding, I wasn’t going to stop for anything…

No point in lying to myself, I want to really see what this could be. Maybe it’s just something we need to get out of our systems, but maybe it’s the start to something incredible. Could he find a way to fall in love with me someday? Could I fall in love with him?

Jungkook’s thoughts are interrupted by the ding of his cell phone. He looks down and sees Tae’s name on the screen and it finally feels like he can take a deep breath. He feels a little giddy as he slides his thumb across the screen to read the message to himself.

Sorry that I had to leave after you fell asleep, I had to find Jimin. There’s a note under your pillow, I hope you’ve already found it. It just occurred to me now that if you didn’t slide your arm underneath the pillow when you woke up, you wouldn’t have found it. I don’t want you thinking I’ve abandoned you after something like that. Find me later.

Jungkook flips himself over onto his stomach and digs under the pile of pillows Tae left behind, feeling for a piece of paper. He squeals out loud as his fingers find it and tears it open.

Jungkookie-

I needed to talk to Jimin about last night, I’m worried about him. I didn’t want to ask you anything about it so that you didn’t feel torn between us. You have no idea how hard it was to leave your side while you were asleep next to me, an absolutely perfect naked angel. This morning was everything. You won’t spend tonight alone, I promise.

–Tae

Jungkook buries his face in his pillow and muffles the giddy hysterics he breaks into after rereading the note over and over. He gets up and walks over to his desk, pinning the note to the corkboard on the wall. He feels warmth spread through his body as if he’s just taken a shot of whiskey. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and decides to get dressed for the gym so he can try to work off some of the energy.

Kim Taehyung thinks I’m perfect.

********

Yoongi is sitting alone on the roof of the BigHit building, his mind racing. He spent what felt like an eternity watching Jimin flirt with someone else and he’s frankly shocked that he hasn’t vomited yet. The few bites of food he managed to choke down this morning are sitting like concrete in the pit of his stomach. He had decided at the last second to hurry up to the roof after breakfast instead of going to his studio, hoping that the cool autumn air would keep him from getting sick.

It seems to have worked, but he can’t bring himself to go back inside the building. Jimin is under that roof somewhere, maybe not alone. People know how to find him in his studio. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the week. He knows they have busy schedules as time runs out before their October stint in Japan, but maybe he can get away with speaking very little.

It feels like his brain is going to eat him alive. He can’t stop thinking about every horrible decision that he’s made in the past few months and how his misery is his own damn fault. He’s the one using a woman he cares about like she’s a therapeutic sex toy. He’s the one who kissed Jimin. He’s the one who took Jimin’s song in his mouth, chewed it out, and spit it right back up into the younger man’s lap.

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Shut up, brain. Shut UP!

He feels like fractures are tearing his skin apart, the cracks spewing flames. He stands up and marches over to an old plywood wall up against one of the attics on the top floor. He cocks his fist and punches the wood as hard as he can, watching it crack and start to buckle. He hits it again, and again, and again. His punches are a blur, nothing hurts, his body is numb. He can hear screams in the distance, but doesn’t care to try and find the source. Suddenly a second voice cuts into the screaming as he’s tugged backwards by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his waist.

“Hyung. Hyung. Stop it! Stop! You’re bleeding!”

Yoongi looks down at his own hands, the knuckles split and oozing slow trickles of crimson red blood. The pain hits him all at once and he winces as he flexes his fist open and closed. He’s panting heavily and closes his eyes as a wave of vertigo hits him. He leans on the body behind him as they make their way over to the other side of the roof to sit back in Yoongi’s usual spot. That’s when he realizes that it has to be Taehyung who found him, no one else would’ve known to look for him on the roof and no one else knows where he likes to sit when he comes here.

“Tae. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I don’t know what happened. I snapped.”

“Do you realize that you were screaming? Gutwrenching, heartbreaking wails of agony. I don’t know if the pain you’re feeling is physical or emotional, but I’d bet that now it’s definitely both. Talk to me.”

“After I left this morning, I went to the cafeteria to try and eat something. I knew if I locked myself in the studio I’d forget about food altogether. I sat in the back of the cafeteria by myself, but then Jimin walked in. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but shrink down into my hoodie and hope he didn’t see me. Mission accomplished. Instead I got a front row seat to the longest flirting session on the planet.”

“Breakfast? Oh, you mean Dae-hyun? He’s just a new friend that Jimin met this morning. That’s nothing.”

“I know what I saw, Taehyung. Don’t start trying to keep the peace. Jimin is free to spend time with whoever he likes, he has no good reason to come anywhere near me. Even if I wasn’t an absolute coward, I don’t deserve someone like him with what I’ve been doing trying to erase him.”

“Yoongi-hyung, we’ve all been put in an impossible position. None of us reacted well and we’ve all been pent up storms of emotion for months. I’m sure all four of us have made mistakes, who’s to say that yours is any worse than anyone else’s?”

“None of you brought outside people into our mess. I had no right. I need to call it off. She never has to know what’s been happening. She doesn’t deserve to feel cheap or used. I care about her, I want her to be okay.”

“See? That’s the right step. You’re still a good person, this was just an error in judgment. You can’t run away from this issue forever. You need to start processing, find a way to self-reflect. Maybe you can find a therapist who specializes in sexuality.”

“I can’t run away? Isn’t that exactly what your long-term plan was up until last night? Our song is all about wanting something you cannot ever and will not ever have. I didn’t see you fighting very hard when Jungkookie dragged you away this morning.”

“You’re right. I can be a complete hypocrite sometimes and my willpower could use some work, but in all fairness…I’ve at least been trying to get better at communicating with Jungkook. Can you say you’ve done the same with Jimin?”

Yoongi shoots a glare at Taehyung and then looks straight down at his hands sitting in his lap. He pretends to be inspecting his torn knuckles, but they both know that he’s avoiding answering the question.

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jungkxook · 4 years

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—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

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