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#and ended up just like all the other women?
hemmingsleclerc · 3 days
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Scandal! pt2┃CL16-MV1
part 2!!! is all yours, thank u sm for the love and support for this work
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ynln has posted a story!
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caption: Day at the beach with my favourite people
charles_leclerc has respond to your story!
can we talk? send 1 hour ago
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 fun day
username yn and him being on the beach....on the same day..
username ugh stfu they're not dating
username max with his sister and mom 🥺
username so cute!
f1_gossip
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f1_gossip This afternoon Y/N uploaded a story to her Instagram account in which only she appeared on the beach, but her mother uploaded a video to her stories this afternoon where you could see Y/N, Max and Y/N's little sister, relaxing in the water. But Max uploaded a post where his family was seen right there, letting us understand that both families went out for a little getaway! Could it be that both drivers are in some type of relationship? What do you think?
username let them enjoy in peace!!
username omg they're so cute
username wait what?! omg
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f1
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f1 Our favourite paddock couples in today's race!
username well, charles is jumping of joy
username leclerc's a little happy there isn’t he
username all couples happy and together and then there's charles and aurora walking one meter away from each other
redbullracing
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redbullracing Imo 👉LAAAAAAAA 🎶 yn and max have arrived!
username yn and lewis=best dressed of the grid
username someone looks happy after spending a whole day on the beach 👀
cha_yn
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cha_yn the fact that I thought these two were gonna get married kills me
username does anyone know why they broke up?
username They never clarified anything but it was all very sudden tbh, but some say that there were rumors of infidelity on his part.
username wait, I thought it was bc things weren't working out but they never stopped loving each other, but I really don't know why just a month later he was seen with Aurora
username I smell a PR relationship from the ferrari team
username holy shit I never thought about that! It really doesn't seem like Charles is happy to be around his ''girlfriend''....
username I'm a child of a divorce
username I will never forget when Y/N won a race and Charles ran out of his car to go congratulate her and it was the first time we saw them kiss in public.
f1
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f1 Red Flag 🚩
Charles Leclerc crashes into Max Verstappen on lap 15 ending the race for both drivers
username 💀💀
username It was clearly seen how leclerc threw the car at max
username THE BEEF BETWEEN THESE TWO TF
f1_gossip
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f1_gossip OH MY GOD! After the accident between the Ferrari and the Red Bull, a completely angry Max went to look for Leclerc and fans captured the moment when Max started pushing and yelling at Charles. Was all this simply because of the race or something else?
The FIA ​​is still investigating the accident but in the meantime, who do you think was at fault?
username charles for sure
username idk man but I think verstappen
username LECLERC IT WAS SO OBVIOUS
username Max always ruins a driver's race, it's nothing new tbh
username Call me crazy but could it be that Charles was angry to see that Max and Yn were together on the beach yesterday? Now I'm gonna shut up
username WAIT
f1
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f1 YN LN WINS THE GRAND PRIX!! THIS IS HER FIFTH CONSECUTIVE VICTORY AND THE FIRST TIME IN HISTORY THAT A FEMALE DRIVER ACHIEVED THIS
username She shut up all those men who said she was going to last two races at most.
username I love women being successful
maxverstappen1 👏👏
ynupdates
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ynupdates Max congratulating yn for her win today!! They're so cute
username the fact she liked the post 🥺🫶🏻
username he's so green flag
username He didn't walk, he ran to congratulate her
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f1_gossip oh, my. It's official, charles and aurora both unfollowed each other, please let's make a toast
charles_leclerc has posted a story!
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ynln
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ynln yeah my bf's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me
jk he's cool asf, he’s a 3 times wc ���
maxverstappen1 hell yes I am
maxverstappen1 I love u my love😍
username I FUCKING KNEW IT
username damn that's a hot ass couple I see
username MAX CAN YOU FIGHT!??!!?
maxverstappen1 yes I can, and I already have for that woman
username: oh yeah right, with leclerc, I forgot, my bad💀
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okey so I did my best, I'm sorry if u don't like it :( but! I'm happy if u did. As you voted Max was the endgame for this so yeah!
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I often daydream about a mean girl who is actually a yandere (closeted) lesbian. She’s a spoiled rich girl that has an unhealthy attachment towards you.
Yandere Imagines: What She Wants
Yandere Mean Rich Girl x Fem Reader
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Mean yandere who was your childhood bully growing up. She hated you the minute you arrived in her fifth grade class with your bright smile and cute clothes. She’d often pull your hair or throw rocks at you at recess. Anything to get you out of the good graces of others… yet she couldn’t help but be fascinated with the texture of your hair…
Mean yandere who apologizes months later because she can’t help the way her cheeks heat up whenever you’re around. To her, you’re like a new toy she really wants. She’s never felt this way before since she wanted you more than any toy she’s ever had.
Mean yandere who integrated you into her ‘friend’ group just to keep you closer to her at all time. You became her designated ‘best friend.’ The two of you now went everywhere together as you sat with her and her lackeys… she threw tantrums if you refused anything she asked of you so you always went with her will. She loved your submissiveness
Mean yandere who plays with your hair whenever there weren’t people around. She thought your hair was so pretty… and she didn’t want anyone else to touch it. Despite being ‘friends,’ she doesn’t allow you to hang out with other people. She cannot stand to share you.
Mean yandere who told everyone that you still slept with a stuffed animal like a baby in high school! She didn’t want anyone else to think it was as cute as she did… it seemed it wasn’t an odd enough rumor either since no one seemed to care as much as she did. You’re a bit frustrated that she shared that secret about you, but it’s not a secret you really cared too much about.
Mean yandere who gets a boy expelled for starting a rumor about sleeping with you. She will not let anyone tarnish your reputation except her! She would rather cut her toes off than let someone touch you… yet she wasn’t sure why that bothered her so much.
Mean yandere who ended up going to the same college as you. She was so delighted when you ended up as her roommate in her dorm. It would be easier to keep an eye on you then! She totally didn’t pay the dean off to make this arrangement happen.
Mean yandere who uses her daddy’s money to buy you new clothes. Clothes that cover most of your skin since she didn’t like the way the men and women stared at you on campus. You deserved only the best!
Mean yandere who is taken aback by how sweet you are. You obey all of her rules and you clean up after yourself. Were you some kind of house wife? Did you want to be?
Mean yandere who can’t help the wet dreams she has of you. She’s always so terrified whenever she dreams of kissing every inch of your soft skin as her fingers explore the inside of your wet heat. The possibility of liking other women never occurred to her… she always thought she just hasn’t met the right guy.
Mean yandere who found out you’re bisexual when she comes back to the for early to see you kissing another girl. She pushed that poor girl out of the dorm before she storms off to her own. Her hands clutch at her chest to try to calm her frantic heart. Why was she so jealous of that other girl? And why did she want to kiss you so badly?
Mean yandere who crawls into your bed when you’re not home so she can inhale the scent of your pillow. Your scent drove her wild and it felt like she was closer to you than ever… it finally hit her that she was in love with you. That’s why she was always so strange when it came to you…
Mean yandere who finally gathers the courage to hold your hand as the two of you watch a movie. Her heart hammers in her chest as you give her an odd look. Yes… this felt right! Being with you felt right!
Mean yandere who doesn’t handle your rejection well. She loves you! Why can’t you accept her? Was that other girl better than her? She highly doubted it because she was far prettier than she was! She had more money! Didn’t you know she could ruin that girl’s life.
Mean yandere who resorts to threats. She doesn’t want you to leave her! You cannot leave! Never ever ever ever ever. She would ruin your life and make your family live on the streets. She will chase you to the ends of this earth until you’re in her arms where you belong.
You can only watch as your childhood friend has a mental breakdown before you reluctantly accept her. You’ve seen her wrath once and you don’t want anyone else to suffer because of your selfishness. If would just be better to give her what she wants.
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lavendernhoney · 2 days
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Rewatching season one has been so interesting for analyzing Penelope and Colin. First of all I forgot what a good friend Penelope was to Marina (before publishing about her pregnancy…) and how hard she tried to dissuade her from tricking Colin.
Their conversation is so interesting though. Marina says that Colin is not interested in Penelope because he sees her the same way he sees his younger sisters, not implying he sees her in a familial way, but that he sees her as still being a girl. AND SHES RIGHT. And this isn’t a case of Colin being oblivious to his feelings- she does come off so much younger than the other debutants. From her shyness to her fashions to her makeup. I actually think the costume and makeup is purposeful to make her look as young as possible. Colin IS clearly fond of Penelope. He KNOWS he’s fond of Penelope.
So then I think of “I would never dream of courting her” or “you do not count you are Pen” and like. I get it. Yes it was not considerate to her but if MY younger sisters friend looked and acted similarly young I also would be like “that’s a kid not a woman” ya know.
It’s also really interesting to me the kinda reoccurring theme in Bridgerton about how women in the society find ways to take agency of their lives. From main characters to barely mentioned widows- it comes up near constantly. I think pre season 3 Penelope felt completely helpless in society. She felt she had no agency, that all she could do was stand by and hope to be noticed. All of her desire for agency and attention is poured into Whistledown. Or out through Whistledown? Anyway basically the second she takes some agency of her life outwardly Colin (as well as other members of society) are quick to pay her more attention. Like yes the clothes and hair and makeup helped but those are just ways to show her inner attitude has shifted.
So Colin is always fond of her (very openly, he’s really so sweet in season 2 until the very end), but the MOMENT she signals a shift in her attitude and intentions he’s like wait 👀 this is a woman. A beautiful woman. A woman I love talking to.
Idk I think we should give Colin more credit. Like Penelope may have known she liked Colin sooner, but neither of them were REALLY ready before.
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dollypopup · 3 days
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People don't give Penelope enough props for the absolute BRAVERY it took in asking Colin for a kiss!!! I am tired of the rancid takes of 'oh, it makes her look pathetic-' no. Penelope asking for that kiss is VITAL in her growth, and pivotal to Polin's love story. Some flowers for Colin, first, for having put in years of work into their relationship so that Penelope trusts Colin to the point where she would even dare to ask it of him, but flowers to Penelope for asking. She trusts him and she's familiar with him and she KNOWS she's safe with him, and she took a leap of faith. So much of Penelope's arc is hiding what she wants and who she is, melding into the shadows, putting on a front. She doesn't confide in much of ANYONE. Not even Eloise knew about her love for Colin, or her existence as Lady Whistledown. Penelope keeps so much close to the chest.
Which makes it such an amazing moment when she opens up with Colin. When she reveals what she desires, and when he responds with 'If you want this, I'll give it to you'. So in that scene, when she's heartbroken and sad, after she has written of her own humiliation in Lady Whistledown to circulate amongst the ton, adding her own name to her list of bullies, when she thinks she is well and firmly on the shelf, and Colin comes to check on her, and he won't allow her to think badly of herself, and he even goes so far as to bribe her maid to have a moment with her, she opens her heart up enough to ask him for what she wants.
And that is beautiful. It deserves props and recognition. To ask for what we want as women is radical, and I'm frankly sick and tired of people thinking she's 'pathetic' for it. Penelope is brave in this scene. She is brave and vulnerable and Colin is there to tell her that is okay. That it should be rewarded. That he will catch her and he is there and she is right to trust him. He is the safety net as she tumbles and steps into the unknown.
Penelope Featherington looked the man that she loves in the eye, and she asked him to kiss her. How many of us would have the iron spine necessary for that? Sure, maybe she thinks she's hit rock bottom, but she could have swallowed her truth as she so often did. She chose not to. Penelope Featherington, who only ever voiced her opinions on a page, anonymously, stood before him with nothing to protect her heart, bare-faced, and told Colin Bridgerton she wanted him to kiss her. That she wanted to be loved.
And he did. He did and it was lovely. It was a fantastic kiss, and in that moment, you can tell that she *was* loved. Is loved. He held her like she was starlight, precious, delicately grasping her chin, brushing her cheek; he pecked her once and then went in for more. That kiss had desire and longing and tenderness in it. It was gentle and wholehearted. It was them learning each other, the both of them flaying away another layer for the other to keep. Penelope asked him for what she wanted and she got it. And it was ultimately the catalyst for all her desires to come to fruition.
I feel like we as women are told we must be passive so often: don't be too loud, don't ask them out, don't look 'desperate'. But fuck that: Penelope is an active participant in her love story. She asks Colin for what she wants and he provides it for her eagerly. That kiss made him realize that what he felt for her was far more than just friendship, and it started with 'Would you kiss me, Colin?' and ended with him outrunning HORSES to catch up with Penelope so he could, on his knees, profess how much he wants her and how he can't stop dreaming of their kiss. She toppled that first domino. May we all be so courageous. May we all be so bold. May we all be so loved.
Penelope put her own love story into motion with that kiss. We should fucking applaud her.
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lovrre · 3 days
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Agreement prt1
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Art Donaldson x Fem black reader
Warnings: cursing, infidelity(kinda), slight smut (fingering) sub ish Art. Slight he loves her more trope, needy Art and probably some other stuff
Word count: 2k
Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.
Author note: GUYS GUYS, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. MY WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDD, But I’m finishing all my requests and unfinished fics soon so stay tuned. 😚
Sitting on the bed in your brand new silk pajamas, you found yourself distracted, just like you had been the day before and the day before that. You played with The edge of the book you were attempting to read,mindlessly repeated the last sentence over and over in your head trying to retain anything. The loud television and the whirring of the ceiling fan only added to the chaos. Plus the freezing cold air conditioning of the hotel room made it impossible to concentrate.
In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of focus, you clumsily reached for the remote, hoping to silence at least one of the distractions. your eyes falling on your fiancé who was sleeping peacefully, his dark hair all messy, in his crisp white t-shirt that matched perfectly to the expensive hotel sheets, he looked so sweet,so innocent. You thought if he slept more, maybe everything could work out
Mike slept while snuggled into your side. Like he often did when you two shared a bed, You had attempted to remove him several times but every time he ended right back at your side so you gave up, In any other scenario his action would seem romantic but they only made you feel worse than you were already feeling. In an effort to relieve some guilt you liked to reminded yourself your engagement was never out of love but business. But then again the line did blur in the beginning of your relationship. Before you left for Stanford, you and Mike got caught up in the act of pretending be in love.
After that you could never really tell real from fake with him, he didn’t like you talking to other men. He’d shower you with really expensives grift but then leave town and not answer your calls or text for days. But when no one was watching he’d try to hug and kiss you. The whole thing was confusing, You had known idea how he persived your relationship but you knew You Felt guilty, without all the technicallys, you knew that you still lied,
The people ate up the role you and Mike played. occasionally you’d have to leave campus and go out in public holding hands or sharing kisses in the rain. But it was all for show, at least on your end. Your Dad made sure to reminded you That, it was the love sick tennis player in love with his coaches daughter that sold tickets. kept the stands full of women hoping to catch the world win romances in action. Also Brought in a large number of his clientele. He promised It wouldn’t be forever unless you wanted to be. And Really how could you complain? 20 years old engaged to One of the wealthiest and most talented tennis players in the world and he wasn't bad looking either. Before all this, you weren't too keen on love anyway, so what were you really missing out on?
~~~
Ten months before
Patrick serves but Art's attention is elsewhere. The ball zooms past Art for the second time, prompting Patrick to turn around and finally see who's behind him. His gaze lands on you, playing tennis alone on a smaller court. The sun shining off your smooth, glistening skin, and your pink tennis dress gracefully flowing with each jump and run.
"Oh, I get it," Patrick chuckles, glancing back at Art. "She's hot. You should talk to her, maybe offer her a lesson. She could use it," Patrick suggests, looking back at you as you let another tennis ball from the machine fly past you . "I think I've seen her somewhere before," Patrick mutters, tapping his racket against his leg.
Still in a daze, Art jogged over to your court. "Oh, you're serious," Patrick murmured watching as he went over to you following closely behind him. "Hi," Art greets, slightly out of breath walking up to the net. "Hi?" you respond, slightly confused, giving him a small wave.
"Are you new here?"
"To the school or the court?" You ask
"Both."
"I'm new to both” you say a little breathless wiping sweat from your forehead.
“I just transferred," you explain.
"Where did you go before?"
"A small community college in Virginia."
"What about tennis?"
"You have a lot of questions," you laugh, tapping your tennis racket against your leg.
"Im just curious “Art jokes.
"I'm just doing this because my fiancé is a tennis player. I thought I'd try to learn," you reveal.
“Finance?” Art questions.
“Yep”
“ how old are you like 20?”
“ actually 19, I turn twenty in a couple months”
“And you're getting married?” Art asked clearly dumbfounded
“Yes” you laugh at his forwardness
", is he a pro or college?", Art asked, assuming the answer would be college.
“Pro," you replied, letting your curls fall freely from your hair tie. Art couldn't help but admire how beautiful you were,too young to be tied down
"Anyone we would know?" Art asks following you as you walk over to the bench with your tennis bag. "Hmm, maybe," you hum, sitting down to tie your shoe. "Mike Fitts."
"Your fiancé is Mike Fitts!" Patrick exclaims a little too loudly. "Mhmm," you confirm, starting to tie your other shoe. "If Mike Fitts is your fiancé, why are you here?"
"Are you referring to the court or the school?" you ask, looking up at both Art and Patrick.
"Both," Art and Patrick respond in unison.
You chuckled as you stuffed your tennis racket into your bag. "Well, whether I'm engaged or not, I always planned to graduate college. And Mike is too busy right now to teach me, so I'm trying to teach myself."
The two of them nod in understanding as you stand up. "It was really nice meeting both of you, but I have class," you announce, throwing your tennis bag over your shoulder. "By the way, it would be great if you guys could keep the whole fiancé thing on the down low. I'm trying to keep it as quiet as possible for now."
"Yeah, no problem," one of them replies.
"Of course," the other adds.
"Thanks, I really appreciate it," you say giving them a small smile before turning around to leave the court.
just as you're about to walk away, Art calls out after you, "Wait! You said you're trying to learn, right? we could coach you if you want” Patrick gives him a look and Art ignores it waiting for your response.
You pause, considering the offer.
”the both of you?” you asked gesturing between them. Art gives you a nod. at that moment The risk didn't seem too big so you said
. "Sure," with small shrug
"How about tomorrow at 12:30?" you suggest, checking the pink Bvlgari watch Mike got you.
"Perfect," Art responds with a shit eating smile
“Ok see you guys ” you laugh walking out the court
~~~~~~
“Yeah see” Patrick says reading a newspaper. “Olympic coach, Dylan yLn, Daughter engaged to Olympics gold medalist Mike fitts” Patrick reads next to a photo of you and Mike smiling as you showed off your huge
engagement ring. “She wasn’t bull shitting”
“Let me see” Art says grabbing the newspaper. “She didn't have on her engagement ring when we saw her...” Art trails off
“You can't be serious” Patrick laughs
“What?”
“She’s engaged Art, not to anyone either,” Patrick leaned in on the table so only he could hear. “she’s engaged Mike Fitts!”
“I didn't say anything,” Art defends
“ you don't have to” Patrick says stealing a fry off Arts plate plopping it in him mouth.
”I know you,”
~~~~~
After that day, everything seemed to blend together. Art and Patrick dedicated themselves to training you throughout the weekdays for three entire months until you got tired of it and decided on once a week. You told Mike you found a coach but never told him who. Since they were kinda the only people you knew in the entire school, the three of you grew close fast. You started going out to bars and parties together. you had your most memorable college moments with the two of them. And then, your birthday arrived. Patrick had left for some torment and it was just you and Art.
You two were just having so much fun that night. On thing led to another And before you realized it, the two of you were constantly having “fun together”. It didn't matter where - in the dorm, in the shower, or even on the floor. It was bad, but you two couldn't stop
Trying to clear your mind you Let out a sigh. you carefully remove Mike from your side sitting up to taking a sip of you're water on the nightstand. Trying to ignore the ache of your core. This is how you spent every night away from him, needy, uncomfortable. You heard a knock at the door which almost caused you to spill water on yourself. You Quickly put your drink down and run to answer it before the person could knock again careful to be quiet not to wake up Mike.
You swung the door open to find Art standing there, hair slightly damp, with huge smile on his face. "Are you out of your mind?" you whisper, stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind you. You can't help but notice his thin athletic hoodie and gym shorts. Slightly wet clinging to his skin as if he just stepped out of the shower.
"It's past one ,"Art huffed out , his voice filled with urgency and desire as he leaned in for a kiss. his hand gently cradling the side of your face in the process.
When the realization of what was happening washed over you, you pulled away, but still stayed close enough to feel his breath against your skin. "Art," you breathed out, eyes darting down the hall to check if anyone saw. Your hand instinctively found its place on his strong chest, you savored the feeling and the look of your manicured nails there, not knowing when you be able to do it again.
"I like these," Art hummed, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. He rolled the fabric between his fingers, his big hand gracing you thighs in the process. The little touch sent shivers down your spine. You somehow composed yourself pushing him away gently with your index finger, creating some distance between you two.
He looked at you with sad eyes like a rejected puppy. "Mike’s sleeping inside," you whisper, worried someone could hear. "What does that mean?"
There was a long pause as you carefully choose your next words. Art stared at you intently, trying to decipher your expression. "You slept with him?” Art asks, as if he already knew the answer.
"No, I didn't sleep with him!” You whisper yelled, “He just showered and fell asleep," you explained,
"What's bothering you then?"
"I feel guilty."
"You didn't feel guilty at Stanford."
"Mike wasn't at Stanford."
“You care about Mike's feelings now ?" Art's asks furrows his brow, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and hurt.
" I don’t know… he’s been nicer lately and were supposed to be married in three days”
“You’re actually thinking about going through with it?” Art asked the hurt now evident in his voice.
“There’s nothing I can do now, I signed contracts, this isn’t just about us anymore I’ve told you this”
“What about the private investors?”
"That's just a 'what if,' a perfect 'what if,' but we don't even know if he's seeing someone."
“ If I win tomorrow?”
“Art If you win are lose tomorrow it doesn’t change anything, my Dad expects me at the alter on Sunday regardless, nothings gonna change that”
“But you don’t love him ”
“ I could” your words come out more a question, maybe a hope. “I loved you?”
“You love me” Art corrects
"There's too much at stake now, Art. This is my father's career. We don't come from money, this is all he has."
“You honestly believe this will ruin his career?”
“It could” you reply with a small shrug your voice cracking slightly.
“It won’t” Art response
“You don’t know that”
“ Don’t do this ” Art whispered closing the small space between you. He sounded so tortured, like he was pleading with you.
you hadn't realize it but tears welled in your eyes Threatening to spill any moment. When You blinked an a tear fell down your cheek. Art tenderly brushed it away with his thumb. The stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up to you. “it wasn’t supposed to be this hard” you murmured, your voice barely audible, tears streaming down your face as Art wiped them away.
“Do you love me?” his questions sounded genuine but you knew, he already knew the answer. ”more than i’d too” you joke, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes.
“Then let me make you feel better,” Art whispered leaning down so he was directly above your ear.
“You’re right about what you said earlier, Mike wasn’t there at Stanford”. He paused for a second moving a piece of your hair out the way, “I was,” he hummed brushing his face against yours “just me and you” he whispered leaving a trail of kisses on the outside of your earlobe down your neck. Causing Your breath catch in your throat .“We had fun right?” Art question, his voice deep and breathy causing you to instinctively press your legs together as you leaned back against the door. “Art” you mumble trying to shake the sexual haze that was swirling inside you.
“I missed you” he whispered his free hand slinking up the side of you short griping your thigh, hiking your leg up slightly. “So bad…All day”
“we can't” you manage to breathe out unconvisingly.
“I’ll beg,”
“Art” you warned
“I’ll do anything baby” he mumbles leaving slowly kisses on your neck. “Anything you want me to” he says kissing under your chin. “ I need you” he hums kissing down your neck, ”don’t you need me?” Art asked kissing below your ear. You don't respond giving small nodd biting the inside of your lip. “Can I hear it?” Art asked, the way his voice sounded so desperate, Damn near whiney had you looking for friction. ”I need you so fucking bad” you basically moan pushing your body against his.
“I love you so much you don't understand” Art said smiling against you cheek. sliding his free hand down the front of your shorts. He rubs his fingers through your folds collecting your wetness on his fingers. You throw your head back with a quiet moan, quickly biting your lip to silence yourself. “Fuck your so wet” Art groans before pulling his hand from your shorts, sucking his fingers clean like it was second nature. You clenched around nothing at the sight.
“I missed that taste” he groans returning his hand to your heat. “Can I make you cum right here” Art huffed out peeping down the hall.
"Yea,” you breathed out, nodding your head feverishly. He could have asked you to drive to the moon in that moment, and you would have said yes. Art slowly pushed two fingers inside of you creating a medium pace before bringing his thumb to rub your clit, you moan lifting your hips to meet his fingers. “Fuck I could eat you out right here” Art groaned watching you Practically fuck yourself on his fingers. “Promise me you won't ever let him see you like this” Art goans leaving kisses on your collar done. “this is mine”
”You can bearly hear a word he's saying the feeling of his thumb on your clit and finger damn near touching you cervix was too much to bear. “I’m gonna cum” you moaned out grabbing Arts shoulder hard in an effort to ground yourself. “I can feel it,” Art breathed pressing his forehead against yours. He presses down harder on your clit causing you to buck into his fingers, letting out a loud moan You cum. his movement don't falter, he continues to pump them in and out while still rubbing your clit until he feels like you've finally had enough.
he removes his fingers from your pussy returning them to his mouth. “I’ll never get tired of that” Art laughs leaning in for a kiss, you return it, taste yourself on his lips. He gently places you leg back on the floor and you stumbled slightly grading his shoulder for balance. He instantly goes to your waist holding you steady. “You ok?” Art ask slight consern on his face. You don't respond afraid of what your voice would sound like after an orgasm like that.
You nod with a smile and Art led you to the hotel room directly next to yours, pulling out a key card from his pocket with a grin.
“You didn't,” you exclaimed as he opened the door.
“I did,” he replied, motioning for you to enter.
“How did you even know our room number?” you ask, stepping inside.
“I have my ways,” he answered, closing the door behind you.
“How did you afford this?” you asked, looking around.
“Are you going to keep ask questioning or are you going to take of your clothes” Art laughs , watching as you sit on the bed.
“You first,” you countered, settling back .
“Yes ma’am,” Art chuckled, starting to undress.
~~~~
Morning arrives and you found yourself back in your original room. Mike was in the bathroom getting ready while you fix your dress in the mirror of the bedroom. As you adjust the straps, you notice a hickey you hadn't seen before, one you forgot to cover up after coming back last night. You laid your hair over it and walk towards the bathroom to retrieve your makeup bag, slightly tripping as your sore legs gave out on you. "You good?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think I'm just sore from tennis practice," you say, reaching past him to get your makeup bag.
"You know no one expects you to play," Mike laughs while drying his hair with a towel. "I'm not doing it for anyone, I want to learn," your words come out more offended than you intended. "I just mean you could spend your time doing something else."
"Like what?" You respond plainly, walking out of the bathroom back to the mirror. "Like calling your dad and asking him what time he'll be here," Mike says from the now open bathroom. "Is your phone not working?" You asked rhetorically, pulling out your concealer . "I don't want to fight today, okay," Mike Replies sternly, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. "This is a big match," he mumbles while running his toothbrush under the water.
"I thought you said it was going to be 'nothing,'" you chuckle dryly, applying the concealer as his face was turned. "It is, but from what your Dad's been saying, he's been getting good. So I'd like to be on my A-game and not have you trying to start shit."
"Whatever you want honey" you respond, quietly laughing in disbelief. He had resorted right back to his old ways,How could you ever agree to marry someone like him, someone so vastly different from the man you spent the night with.
~~~~
soon as you and Mike were finished getting ready, your father called you to come downstairs to join him for breakfast. You and Mike both stood in line, slightly overdressed, picking out your favorite breakfast items. Mike only getting avocado and toast due to his strict diet. Suddenly, you heard a familiar laughter and turned around to see Art chatting with your father near the entrance. Your heart sank as your father motioned for you both to come over. After dropping off your plates, you and Mike walked towards them, feeling Mike's hand slip around your waist.
"I'd like you to meet someone," your father announced with a smile, putting his arm around Art's shoulder. "This is Art Donaldson," he introduced, "the man I'm competing against today." Mike stated extending his hand for a handshake, and Art reciprocated. Your stomach churned at the sight. "This is Mike, you know him, he's also my daughter's fiancé." Your father says with a smile.
"Stressful, huh?" Art jokes. "Oh, you have no idea," your Dad replies, laughing. "You're both at the same college, right? Stanford?" your Dad asked, nodding towards you. “maybe you could try your luck at training her because I just can't get through," your dad jokes. Art's eyes rake over you, as if looking at you for the first time. "It be my pleasure" Art smiles, looking directly at you. You to discreetly warn him with your eyes but You notice Mike's grip on your waist tighten, clearly not pleased. "Actually, I've been training y/n already, she's improving every day," Mike says, planting a quick kiss on your head.
"Really?" Art inquires, trying to keep up the act to the best of his abilities. "Monday through Friday," Mike replies with a smug grin. “How do you manage with your Busy schedule?” Art asks tilting his head to the side slightly in the process.
“You find time for the people you love,” Mike says with a fake smile. You had to physically hold back your laugh. But you played it off as wiping your face. He had taken a line straight from media training. Silence filled the air as the two have a silent conversation with their eyes.
“Well I wanted to introduce all of you, as I will officially be coaching Art starting next fall,"
Your Dad says in an attempt to break the tension. But it only makes it worse, Somehow Mike's grip on you tightened even more, now you were concerned he’d leave a bruise . "When did you make this decision?" Mike asked, his face showing no emotion but you could tell he was angry. "two weeks ago, and I've been waiting for the right moment to properly introduce you two. I know the timing is awkward with the match, but it's better to do it now than later."
Mike doesn’t say anything giving an expressionless nod. There was another awkward pause before you decided to speak up. "It was nice meeting you…Art?" you trail off , purposely sounding unsure. He nodded with a knowing smile. "But our food is getting cold," you joked, trying to escape the suffocating tension. "I wouldn't want to keep the couple from their food," Art said, while a smiling again only looking directly at you. You wanted to scream, he was being so obvious and the way Mike was already acting, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. "You two eat, I have to go handle some things, I won’t be long" your father said, gesturing for you and Mike to sit at the table before walking off with Art.
Once the two of you sit back at the table you feel caught. "I don't want you near that guy," Mike says, taking a sip of his coffee. You roll your eyes and stab at your scrambled eggs. “He was basically eye fucking you the whole time, and it doesn’t help that your dress is so tight”
“I think you forget sometimes this isn’t real,” you reply, taking a bite.
"Lower your voice," Mike warns, glancing around to see if anyone heard.
"You didn't care about it being real when you accepted the gifts," he scoffs, "or in Virginia."
"It was once, Mike. And every day, you make me regret it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You don't get to control me just because you buy me shit. Anyone can buy me shit."
“I told you i’m not doing this with you today” Mike laughs dryly standing up from the table. "I'll see you later, okay babe?" he says a bit louder, forcing a fake smile as he plants a kiss on your head before walking away. You try your best not to flinch when he touches you. Once he's gone, your phone buzzes, and you glance down to see an unsaved number. It's a text from Art.
“meet me at the restaurant next door in 20, alone.”
Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS
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ahundredtimesover · 6 hours
Text
I Want You to Stay (13) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of injury, trauma; family drama; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; they're still idiots;  explicit sexual content (making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, mutual masturbation, protected sex)  (18+)
Chapter Word count: 29k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: It's here! This is a long one so I hope you enjoy and savour it all. We're close to the end! So thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
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You take up Yoongi’s offer of a listening ear on Saturday, the day after your last day at the company. You spent last night wallowing in sadness over not being able to see Jungkook during your farewell dinner and in regret for not telling him what you wanted to say - that you were thankful, that you wished the Arts Center would be everything he imagined it would be, and that hopefully, you’ll see him again. 
Maybe if he showed up, you would’ve said more - that you’re terrified of everything he makes you feel, that you’re too burdened by your past, and that you want him even if you don’t know if you’re ready to be with him.
You spent much of today convincing yourself that it was better that you didn’t see him, even if you kept imagining his shy smile and the feel of his lips against yours, and then you got frustrated all over again. 
With all that’s going on in your head, you figured that spending dinner on your own today would make you feel more sorry for yourself, so you’re currently seated in front of Yoongi with your wonton soup barely touched while he’s just slurped the remaining noodles of his. 
“Your soup’s getting cold,” he nudges your foot as you mindlessly gaze at your bowl. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”
“Apparently, I don’t eat much when I’m sad,” you sigh, turning to him. 
“Well, that sucks. It’s really good soup,” he hums. 
Yoongi looks at you patiently just as he has for the past half hour. You told him you wanted to eat out, and he agreed immediately, even offering to drive you home after. But you haven’t said much since you arrived at the restaurant and he hasn’t forced you to say anything either.
“I’m sorry for not being a fun dinner partner tonight,” you say. 
“It’s okay. When I told you the other week to call me if you wanted to talk, I didn’t expect you to actually talk,” he chuckles. “I know sometimes you just need someone to be with. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you reply. “I can't even figure myself out.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it,” he counters. “Human beings are complex, yes. But feelings of desire aren’t. They’re quite straightforward. You want something and that should tell you everything. It’s pride and fear that complicate things. If you set those aside, then you’ll be able to figure out what you really feel.”
“What if they contradict each other?”
“The push and pull isn’t always equal though. One overpowers the other in some way. So you’re either more happy about leaving or more sad about it. And then ask yourself why.”
“I’m sad about leaving Jungkook,” you admit. “I don’t regret my decision but it doesn’t make me happy right now.”
“And why doesn’t it make you happy?”
“Because it hurt him. And then it hurt me.”
“Why did it hurt the both of you?”
“I don’t know about him,” you pout.
“Then what about you? Why did it hurt you?”
“Because he kept his distance - he replaced me, shut me out. And then he didn’t show up to my farewell dinner.”
“So what’s painful about that?” Yoongi pushes, wanting to help you make sense of things.
“Because I want him close to me,” you say quietly, letting the words sink in. You’ve always known this, but saying it to someone else somehow makes it feel more real this time. “I want him… with me.”
“Told you it was simple,” Yoongi shrugs.
“But it isn’t,” you argue.
Yoongi is a straightforward man, and you suppose the only way for him to understand is for you to tell him the truth, so that’s what you do. 
You tell him about your ties to the Jeon family, why you stayed in the company for as long as you did, all the attempts at leaving, and the plan of doing so after the Arts Center opening. You share about your life in the process - your childhood of staying at the library and your coping mechanisms, your life in Busan, going back to Daegu then leaving for Seoul, working to repay a debt, and then losing yourself because of it. You talk about the closeness you developed with Jungkook, all the times that he was there for you, the kiss and the aftermath, why you pushed him away and why you also feel bad about how he reacted. You say a bit about the things that scare you - getting hurt being one of them - and why staying for Jungkook would be difficult, and why leaving him would be the same. 
Yoongi looks at you earnestly. He’s always known about you being guarded, keeping parts of yourself that you don’t really share with others. This is the farthest you’ve let him into your world, and he sees so much of Jungkook in you. There’s that fear of not being wanted but also of being wanted; you’re scared of not being enough to be loved but also of not loving the other person enough. You’re unable to express how you feel because you don’t know if the person will respond with the same vulnerability and honesty, and you don’t like baring yourself with no one there to tell you it’s alright.  
All of it feels like how his friend is. He’s seen it since the moment Jungkook stepped foot into the office a year ago; he’s seen it everytime Jungkook disengages from you or gets mad at you; he’s seen it even when you’ve started to become comfortable with each other, and Yoongi has seen it these past weeks of Jungkook dealing with your departure, especially recently. 
“So after all that, you mean to tell me that you didn’t actually tell him how you feel?” Yoongi points out. “That he just overheard you say that you like him but you didn’t actually tell him? Not your feelings nor your fears, not your contradicting emotions, nor the fact that you want to be with him? Because I’m hearing you, ___. And all I hear is that you’ve found someone you’re willing to give your heart to but you’re too afraid to do anything about it. Even after he’s told you how he feels, because you don’t think that he would be open and honest enough to you to mean them.”
You let out a breath and pout, Yoongi’s words making it seem simpler than it actually is. In hindsight, maybe it is, because after everything that you shared, the first thing he points out is how, despite the obvious reciprocated feelings, you’re the one who’s afraid to give in.
“You talked about how Jungkook made you feel braver during the times you were scared and alone and hurt,” Yoongi says, seething at your experiences that made you look towards Jungkook for strength. “Why can’t you be brave enough for him? I mean, I get it that you want to leave the company, no one questions why you would. He did but he’s accepted it because he understands, but why do you have to let him go? Is it just because of the ties to his family? Or is it because you’re afraid of what he feels for you that isn’t tied to you being his assistant?”
His last question causes your face to fall, and Yoongi knows he’s hit a nerve.
“You’ve been living your life trying to prove that you’re more than your past, that you’re capable and that you deserve all that you have now,” he adds. “This job was your life. You told me before that you don’t know if you’d like yourself outside of it, and maybe you’re thinking that Jungkook wouldn’t, either.”
“I… don’t think I’m that great, Yoongi,” you confess. “I mean, just think about what the guys I dated said about me.”
“Those don’t count because they’re absolute jerks.”
“Even then, I… I’m terrible at a lot of things. I pull away, I get scared, I… I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. I don’t know if I want to be. I don’t know if I can, or what that even means,” you stammer. “For a second there, I let my guard down for Jungkook and—”
“He did the same and that terrifies you,” Yoongi finishes. “Being wanted back terrifies you. It’s why you feel confused and conflicted, ___. You have the chance to have something you’ve been yearning for and—”
“I’m scared I’d lose it,” you interject. “And I won’t if I don’t have it. I’m scared of heartbreak, Yoongi. I gave in when it came to Jungkook but I saw the possibilities with him and heartbreak was one of them. This is why I don’t give in to anything. I mean, it’s why I didn’t give in to you. I… I was scared we’d hurt each other and that I’d lose you and… I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now.”
“It’s good that you are,” he assures you. “Because do you see the difference? You didn’t give in to me but you did to him. You never know if the person is worth the pain until it’s there but you at least know that he’s worth a try. I wasn’t, and I don’t take offense, but that’s the point. He’s the guy you try for, ___. He’s the one you climb out your walls for. So don’t cower inside. Be brave for him this time.”
It’s a while before you’re able to say anything. The background chatter in the noodle house fades away in your mind as you take in Yoongi’s words. And he’s not wrong. 
You never told Jungkook what you felt; you didn’t know how to. You kissed him to express that, but you pushed him away just as quickly, but you never got to say anything else, especially after. And now you’re left to wonder - what was the fear really about? And what was the need to let go of him because of it?
You’re scared of a lot of things; you’re scared of every single thing you want to have. You learned some time ago that Jungkook was the same, but you think that you’re probably more terrified than he is. 
You’re a walking contradiction, too - you want to cut ties with him because it reminds you of a past you don’t want to be defined by, but in doing so, you’re cutting yourself off as what you started as - his assistant, and you’re scared to be anything else but that. You were good at it - you were competent, capable; you managed his life and the team well. But being with him means you have to be someone else for him - his partner, his companion, his lover, and you don’t know how to be those things for him. You don’t know if you’d like yourself, and so you don’t know if he’d like you if you tried. And that scares you.
But like Yoongi said, you thought Jungkook was at least worth it; you wouldn’t have kissed him if you didn’t, even if you thought it was a moment of weakness. You just have to follow through with that belief this time, and be brave enough to not just want him because you do; you have to be brave enough to let him want you back. You have to be brave enough to believe that he’ll stay. 
“How… how do I do that? How do you become brave for someone?” You finally ask. 
Yoongi relaxes in his seat, his eyes the most comforting they’ve ever been. 
“You just tell them how you feel,” he says. “You face it head on because you know that there’s something more important than a possible heartbreak, and that’s losing on the possibility of happiness with them.”
You let out a breath. You know Yoongi’s right. You’d said that you want to know how it’s like to be truly happy with Jungkook, and it’s this paralyzing fear and stubbornness that’s keeping you from finding out. But you suppose that when you’ve gotten used to keeping a lot of things in, just telling someone how you feel isn’t that easy.
“It’s hard for you, I know,” he continues, reading your mind. “But how would you learn what your heart is capable of if you don’t follow it?”
“Then you’ll just risk it getting broken,” you argue.
“You do,” he hums. “Hearts break. But it’s not the only thing they do.”
The words are simple, just as the thought is. You almost feel embarrassed that Yoongi has to remind you of these things, about the inevitability of pain and loss and how it should be worth it in the end. But the fear comes from somewhere, from a heart that’s close to your own that shattered so many times, you wondered at one point if it was still capable of loving. 
“I told you that I never met my dad, right?” You share, willing to bare a bit more of yourself to him. “He left before I was born because he wasn’t ready. But mom… Mom loved him deeply. I found a photo of them under her pillow one time and I asked her about it, and she had me lay my head on her lap while she told me about him. I was around 6 years old and probably didn’t understand much but I felt her tears drop on my cheek, and then everyday for weeks, I’d hear her cry, all alone in her room. And somehow, she just cried harder every time I hugged her.”
You remember those days. You learned what it felt like to have your heart broken at that age, and it was because of seeing your mom try to smile through glassy eyes; it was hearing her tell you that she loved you, even if the other half of you was the reason why she was hurting in the first place.
“Eventually a man came along and he made her laugh until he stopped,” you continue. “Until all he could do was hurt her. And that… that felt worse. She’d just learned to share herself again but then he just broke her. And I… I felt that, too. I felt it every time she hugged me, kissed me, covered my ears to drown out his yelling… I felt it every time I had my head on her lap so I wouldn’t see her break down.”
Your eyes wander into the streets outside, recalling those difficult years when your mother protected you, even as she was in pain herself.
“They say that a parent feels the pain their child is feeling,” you say. “I guess it’s true for children, too. I felt her pain, I felt her heart break. Her heart was my heart. And I guess ever since then I’ve just been scared for it to happen to me, knowing how much it hurts. It took years before she could recover. That was hard, too.”
“How long did it take her to give Min-woo a chance?”
“Years,” you shake your head. “She was so cautious. But he stuck around, and she realized he was worth it all. And she gained two other daughters who adore her in the process.”
“Her heart was your heart,” Yoongi repeats your words. “And all she did was love. That means your heart is capable of just as much. It’s just as strong, too.”
You’ve never thought about it that way. You've always believed that the one thing you took from your mother was her grace. Perhaps if you tried, you’d learn that you took her strength, too. Maybe her unyielding ability to care. Perhaps it’s her faith in what she was capable of no matter how broken she may be. 
“I… I needed this,” you tell Yoongi, your eyes misty at his words. “It’s been hard understanding myself lately. And you, you just know me. You know what to say all the time.”
“It’s because I risked something, too, when I told you how I felt about you all those years ago,” he replies, the reminder of his unrequited feelings no longer awkward for either of you. “And at the end of it, I learned how I could care for you, and that I could care for you much better as a friend.”
“And well, you’ve been an amazing one to me, especially this past year.”
“Good, so for my sake, especially since you and Jungkook give me so much headache,” Yoongi laughs, “remember everything I said, okay? Your heart is capable of so much. So please give it a try and follow it. I doubt it will be broken this time around.”
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You spend the entirety of Sunday at home, cleaning up the place and tending to your growing collection of plants. It was a cool enough day for you to walk up the neighborhood to buy some things from the store, and as Yoongi’s words from the night before ring in your head, you find yourself hurting more at the absence of Jungkook in your life. 
There’s a new recipe for fried rice that you saw online, and he was your first thought because you think he’d like it. You read an article about Lee Jaemin in the morning where she mentioned the Arts Center, and you wanted to share it with him and gush over her words. His favorite Japanese chef has opened a new restaurant in Insadong and you wonder if he’s already tried it. The playground at the park is closed because they’re doing repairs after you told the council about how rusted the swings have become at Jungkook’s suggestion. 
They’re little things, really, and you realize even more just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him, and how much of himself he’s shared as well. Whatever lines that were drawn up due to your respective positions were crossed long ago, even before that kiss. It started when you both started to care for each other, and when you both started to wish for the other’s happiness and healing. On your end, you’d hoped you’d be a part of that and that he’d be a part of yours. You don’t think that has changed though.
There are still many things you want to share with him, you realize again, especially on that Monday afternoon when you find yourself at Rkive Publishing for your contract signing that has you looking at Namjoon in question. 
“Are… are you sure?“ you ask him, as you read through the document. 
He’d sent a version of this for your review a few days ago and you’d given your verbal confirmation. You expected to come today to just sign the contract, but he asked you to review it again since he made a few changes. The salary is one of them. 
“Are you asking me if I’m sure of offering you a higher compensation package?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. 
“Y-yes?” You say. “I mean, not that I don’t prefer it but… why?” 
You knew that working for a smaller organization, and for a publishing company at that, despite having a higher position and more responsibilities meant that your pay wouldn’t be significantly different from what you were getting at the Jeon Corporation. You’d accepted that, and it was something you’d talked about with Namjoon. But still, this little bit of increase is something you hadn’t expected.
“We’ll, let’s just say that we’ve had many applicants in the past who oversold themselves. You did the opposite,” he responds. “You impressed me and the panel enough with your resume and interview and we thought you were a good fit but that recommendation letter from your company’s President showed us just how qualified you were, and that there’s so much potential there. I was also able to speak with your most recent boss.”
“VP Jeon?”
“Yes, I was on a call with him last Friday. He elaborated on the strengths you’d mentioned and that Mr. Jung had noted,” Namjoon responds. “They’re top executives of a well-known company who have worked closely with you, who saw your growth, and can attest to your potential. Given all those qualities, we thought it was just fair that we increase your compensation. We’ve learned it’s important to trust and be committed to our staff, and this is how we show that.”
“This… this is deeply appreciated,” you manage to say, not realizing just how valuable the references were. You check to see that your responsibilities didn’t change much, so you know that this is really them, believing in your worth.
“We’re looking to expand in the next few years and are working towards establishing our position in the industry,” he adds. “We don’t just need competent individuals - we need leaders, we need people of good character who can embody all the things that we stand for. We’re trying to build something here and someone like you would be a wonderful asset. You can help us grow, ___. And I, well,” he continues, shyly smiling. “I just really wanted to make sure that we got a good start. Your role is critical. It’s also one of the toughest ones out there and I wanna show you that we want you here. I mean, I was sure a lot of companies were trying to get you and we’d have to compete for you.”
“I was already convinced early on, Namjoon,” you assure him. “To be honest, meeting you at the bookstore that day felt like some sign from the universe that it was time for me to carve my own path. I guess I didn’t just need a new environment, I needed a blank slate, too, where I could start over and feel like I was really doing this for myself, that I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else, not even to me.”
“Glad I took a chance on talking to you, then, even if I sort of freaked you out,” he chuckles. “I’m still sorry about that.”
“It was fine,” you laugh. “In hindsight, I’m also glad you did. I told you, it was a moment that stuck with me. It’s what pushed me to learn about what you’re all doing here, to learn about you. I… I do well when I’m surrounded by good people, by those who believe in their work, and those who believe in others. I know it won’t be easy but I already know I’ll thrive here. So thank you for giving me this chance, too.”
You and Namjoon talk some more and then lock in a date for your first day. You agree to start in three weeks - that gives you enough time to properly rest and mentally prepare yourself for this new phase. You’ll still be in a fast-paced and high-stress environment, but you’ll control your time and directly manage a team. Everything’s going to be new, and you want to be ready when it all happens, which is also why you’ll be doing your onboarding a few days before. 
“I wanted to give this to you,” he says, handing you a book as he walks you out the door. “I always give one to new staff as a form of welcome because books are our heart and soul, you know?”
“This is lovely, Namjoon,” you smile at him. “This will definitely be my companion for the next few weeks.”
“Good. It’s always meaningful to have something tangible like this,” he smiles back. 
There’s warmth in the way he does it, as if every time he talks about books, it elicits special memories. You think being around someone like that will be good for you, as you try to hold onto good memories yourself despite the sadness you still feel.
“I hope you like it,” he says before bidding you goodbye. 
You walk through the neighborhood and picture yourself going through this route everyday. It’s definitely nothing like the busy streets that you’re used to. There are more trees and quaint cafes and boutique stores here, and even just this change is already making you feel lighter; you can imagine getting over your stress with surroundings like this. You suppose that’s how Namjoon remains as calm and hopeful as he is despite his responsibilities - there’s so much energy you get just being outdoors, and it’s something you decide you’ll do today. 
You have all the time in the world now, so you grab coffee then head to a park to enjoy the early summer cool air. 
The book that Namjoon gave you is a novel published five years ago about a woman who quit her job in search of herself. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, as in such a short time, you've come to know him as a thoughtful man who’s very assuring, and you suppose this is his way of telling you that everything will be okay as you take on this new journey alongside him. The bright color palette of the design seems to reflect the hopeful subject of the book, and right as you’re about to start reading, the sound of children laughing catches your attention.
There’s a playground nearby, and your mind immediately goes to Jungkook. There’s an image of him looking happy and safe in a place that made him feel those things that you keep in your heart. You don’t know how he looks like as a child but you can somehow imagine a little boy riding the swing and coming down the slide with the softest smile and thinking that he can do and be anything he wants, that he feels capable enough for it, and that he’s able to share that joy with whoever who’s with him.
You think about earlier when Namjoon was talking about your capabilities and how you were able to see yourself the way Jungkook and Hoseok see you as a professional. You think about how it felt being supported that way, how their trust and confidence in you made you trust and be confident in yourself, too. There’s this pride you feel at being able to make that much of an impression on your new boss early on and there’s no stress, there’s no pressure. 
Sure, you want to show that all those aren’t empty words, but there’s no urge to prove yourself that you earned your spot unlike how you’ve been these past nine years. There’s just this desire to live - work is a part of it but so is reading stories, meeting people and learning about them, walking through quiet streets and appreciating the sunlight peeking through the trees. There’s this yearning to experience the day and not just survive it. 
You look at the book in your hands and know that someday, you’ll be holding one that you had a hand in creating. And it would be something that you poured your heart and soul into, one that you experienced in its entirety, and it would make you so happy knowing that you could touch it, that you can hear it, that you can see the story come to life in your mind.
You trace your fingers down the front cover and realize that this beautiful thing is tangible. And then you realize another thing - happiness is tangible, too. You’d felt it, you’d heard it. You’d seen it smile at you. You’d felt its lips against yours, too, but then you pulled away and became too afraid to take it back. Happiness was so close - it breathed you in, it held you close; it wanted you, and you were too scared to let it stay.
You spent so many years chasing it. You’d found it in your friends and your new family, but there was always something more that you wanted, one that you couldn’t find. Until him. And you’re slowly learning just how painful it is to let it slip away.
Jungkook stays in your mind for the rest of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to share about your day. 
You want to tell him that you felt a little shy when Namjoon was praising you but that you felt proud of yourself. And that you wanted to thank him. 
You want to tell Jungkook that your new work environment is quite charming, that the surrounding areas are inspiring, and that you might just start spending time outdoors from now on. And that you wish you get to explore it with him. 
You want to tell him that you’re excited to start your new job and that you’ll maybe start reading books because you’ll have a hand in creating the finished products. And that you want to share that with him, maybe make him read it, too.
You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have doubted what he felt, that you should've stood by your feelings regardless and fought for them. You want to tell him that you don’t regret quitting, but that you regret losing him in the process. That no matter how hard you try, he’s still the one you look for, the one you want to talk about your day with, the one you want to share your dream and hopes to. 
Jungkook has made you feel free in a way that you hadn’t before - an irony, considering that working for his family made you feel constricted, burdened, stagnant. But there are so many possibilities with him, so many reasons - to smile, to be brave, to hope, to yearn for more, to believe that you deserve good things that you can touch. And you want to know what those are like; you don’t want to lose out on that chance and lose him completely. 
Perhaps all you had to do was free your heart so it could feel what it’s supposed to. Like what Yoongi said, maybe you just had to follow it to know what it could do. 
It’s why on Thursday of that week, you find yourself inside his office with an envelope in hand, as you hope that actually freeing your heart and following it isn’t too late. 
You were scheduled to come today so you could get your final pay and sign some documents with HR. You arrived mid-morning and got to those right away. It didn’t take long, which is why you were able to pass by Hoseok’s office to update him about your new job and thank him for the recommendation. You headed to the support team’s office after, and they were quick to make lunch plans with you. Jungkook’s at the Arts Center, they said, so they can take their break in half an hour, but they can’t be out long. There are lots of things they have to do with the opening happening on Friday of the next week.
Lucas told you that he’d found some of your supplies that you’d left and they’re in a drawer in his desk, and you told him that you could get them yourself. They were easy to find, and you took the time to leave little notes for him in between folders and files; you figured that finding them on days when he doesn’t expect them could give him encouragement somehow. 
Jungkook’s door was slightly opened, and you took the chance to enter and take in a piece of him. The last time you were here, it felt like there was so much you still couldn’t say, there were feelings you were too afraid to face and words you weren’t sure he wanted to hear. Being back here, you feel a lot braver, and you know it matters that now, you’re trying to be brave for him. 
You stand in front of his desk, almost cradling the letter you’d written last night. You’ve spent the past days outdoors, finding cafes and quaint spots in areas that you’ve never explored before. You’ve been reading the book, too, and the more time you spent by yourself - not being tired, not being stressed, not feeling lost or burdened - the more you realized just how much you’ve been missing and yearning for things. And that you deserved whatever it was you wanted, and that included Jungkook. 
The life you’d started to live without him convinced you that the intimacy and connection you’ve been desiring is something you can find with him. You want to know what that’s like; you want to know how happy you could be with him, and you’ll only know it if you express it to him this time. You owe it to him to do that; you’re scared that any more time apart will push both of you farther away, too far to pull the other back because the anchor wasn’t set securely in the first place. You don’t want him to be your what if; you don’t want him to be your biggest regret.
Telling him how you felt was another thing, though, and writing a letter took you longer than expected. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you could only hope he’ll see your sincerity through it, and that he’ll still want you, even if it took you quite a while to accept what he felt, too.
His desk isn’t as organized as it usually is, but you place the envelope on top of a folder of blueprints that you know he’s going to get to soon. You know how he is - he always likes his things in their proper place. The center is the urgent pile so you know he’s gonna find this once he gets back and that maybe, he’ll go to you right after, hopefully to tell you that he still wants you, that he still wants to be with you, and that like he’d asked before, you’ll figure things out together. 
There’s fear just as there’s excitement. You hope at the end of all this, you’ll find yourself in his arms - everything forgiven, with nothing but more good memories you’ll create. 
You head out to lunch with the team shortly after and hold off on asking how Jungkook’s doing or about the changes in the Arts Center. Everyone looks tired enough as it is and you don’t want them thinking about work during their break, so you settle on talking about your new job and how excited you are. They’ll be supporting the books, they say; you can’t help but think again about how much you want to share them with Jungkook, too. 
You spend the rest of the day at home, waiting for that phone call from him or perhaps, his knock on your door. You’re unsure if he’ll come today; you don’t want to think that he wouldn’t, even if he has reasons not to want to see you anymore after what you’ve done. 
But the hope lives, as you convince yourself in the evening that maybe he got back to the office late and hadn’t seen your letter. 
You do the same thing the next day - you stay at home, hesitant to leave in case he comes, and then tell yourself that there’s a reason why he hasn’t shown up at your door yet. 
You do it again the day after, then the next, and then again.
The hope remained but it has now withered away. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he still hasn’t come.
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Jungkook sinks in the seat of his desk, breathing heavily as he tries to catch a break. It’s not much, but it’s the only moment he has of complete silence where he forces himself to not do or think about anything. He gives himself only ten minutes each day for this, other than when he’s sleeping. He does it only between meetings or calls or visits to the Arts Center, which he fits all in one day. 
It’s only 2PM on Thursday but it might as well be late on a Friday evening. He’s exhausted, as if he hasn’t rested for days, as if he hasn’t been sleeping properly, and as if he hasn’t stopped working. And all of those are true. 
Ever since he’d decided on making changes in the Arts Center, he’s been going nonstop. From drawing up the design, purchasing materials, to constructing the room, Jungkook has been doing it all, on top of managing the rest of the work being done. He’s employed the help of Yoongi and a project manager to help him, but Jungkook has been the one making all the decisions, and that definitely didn’t go well with his father. 
He caught the ire of the old man right away, with the CEO scolding him for doing this weeks before the opening and for going over budget, which is why Jungkook stays in the Arts Center most of the day, going in the afternoon and then staying or returning at night, doing the manual labor himself so he doesn’t have to pay more for the workers. He paints the walls as well as some of the furniture, and that’s taken so much of him these past weeks, especially his time, time that he’d taken away from seeing you. 
He wasn’t really present during your last days at the company. He approved all your leaves and he was sincere about having you take them, but during the days when you were in the office, he was barely there. He was either physically at the Center or his mind was. 
Other times, he was performing his executive functions, with Hoseok reminding him of his Vice President duties. Jungkook had neglected some of them, as evidenced by his messy desk that’s giving him a headache. He’s always been organized with his things but not recently, not when all he’s been doing is working himself to the bone like what he’s used to. But this has more at stake for him; this isn’t just some structure or room he’s building. It’s so much more.
One other thing he’s been doing is regretting that he wasn’t there during your last day to bid you goodbye and to see you for the last time, it seemed like. He wished you well and thanked you, even if there was more he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and he wouldn’t have handled lingering, too, if that would give you a chance to say something more to him that would make him express what he’s really feeling, and he’s scared that would push you further away. 
He was never good at that. The one time he told you what he wanted and felt, things didn’t go right - the timing was off, you doubted his sincerity, and there was so much you kept hidden from him. He hasn’t known what to do nor say since then, which is why he’s doing what he’s doing for you. It’s more than the words he doesn’t know how to say; it’s something he won’t regret as it expresses everything that’s been in his heart, and it’s lasting, it’s constant, it’s comforting; it’s everything he wants to be for you. 
But then again, all this work kept him from seeing you for the last time, and it’s a reminder again of how he’s been living his life - diverting his attention to other things instead of facing what’s important. 
There’s not much he can do now, though. Everything has been completed. All the certifications have been secured, all the invitations are out, the promotion for the opening is all over social media, and the support team is on top of everything that’ll take place tomorrow. With the end of it just within reach, he’s able to take a breath, and it’s why he’s able to extend his short break to 15 minutes. 
The Arts Center is being cleaned and security checked, so he has no choice but to stay away from it until it opens tomorrow. So right now, he has the time to work on his other responsibilities, such as draft plans for a project that Hoseok’s working on that he’d asked Jungkook to review. 
“I had Lucas leave the blueprints on your desk last week,” the older man says over the phone after being asked if the files are still with him. “You should see it right away. It was urgent so I told him to put it at the center.”
“Well, that’s one of many that’s apparently urgent,” Jungkook sighs as he sees the pile of documents in front of him. It seems like he’s neglected a lot of other things this past week. “When did you say you left them?”
“Thursday morning,” Hoseok responds. “You would’ve seen them immediately.”
“I would’ve… except I haven’t really been at my desk in days.”
Which is the truth. Jungkook has been sitting on his desk only to go through his emails and then signing documents that Lucas gives him before heading to meetings and the Arts Center. It’s been his schedule this entire week, which is why he hadn’t seen the designs that Hoseok’s talking about. And as Jungkook goes through the pile - of memos for checking, of studies from Yoongi - he sees something else that makes his heart drop.
The last time he found an envelope on his desk with your handwriting on it, his world took a complete turn. He remembers reading that resignation letter and thinking that he’d really screwed things up, that life wasn’t going to be the same without you next to him everyday, and that there was no way he could have you again after how things turned out. 
He doesn’t know what to expect with this, not when he hasn’t seen you in days, and not when he doesn’t know how you’re doing right now.
“Kook?” Hoseok says on the other end after the prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”
“Did ___ come to the office this week?” 
“She was here last Thursday. She signed some HR stuff and dropped by my room. Why?”
“She… she left a letter on my desk.”
“Oh… What does it say?”
“I… I haven’t opened it. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what’s inside,” Jungkook says, his hands trembling as he places it back down.
“It could be many things but you won’t know unless you read it,” Hoseok responds. “Both of you have been keeping your feelings to each other from each other, Kook. This… this might be something that changes that.”
“Did… did she say anything to you when she visited?”
“Just about her job. She seems content and excited. Whatever else she feels, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. So read it, and don’t worry about the designs. Those can wait.”
Jungkook drops the call, noting that he’ll thank his cousin later on. This letter is the most important thing right now, even if he’s nervous about what’s written on it. 
He finally opens the envelope and the first thing he sees are pictures - one of an empty playground, and another one of you on the swing, smiling. It’s been weeks without your smile, and remembering how much comfort it’s given him is what makes him calm down; it’s what makes him have the courage to read through the letter.
Jungkook,
I took the photo of the playground during my birthday trip using the gift you got me. We passed by a park on the way to one of the towns and we stayed there for a while. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. I felt a kind of comfort I’ve never felt before, and it made me think of how I feel when I’m around you. 
I was thinking of you, too, when Soomin took my photo. I seem to do that a lot, I’ve learned. I think of you and smile, and there’s this unfamiliar feeling of joy. There’s this yearning to feel it everyday, and that scares me. We kissed and the desire for you scared me even more. So did the thought that I can’t be what you need me to be despite what we feel, and that there's a possibility I’d get hurt along the way. 
But I learned that what scares me the most is losing you.
I don’t regret leaving, but I regret how I did it, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I got to tell you what I really felt, and I wish I realized much sooner that the happiness I’ve been looking for is one I can find with you. 
I’m scared of many things, Jungkook, but you make me braver. This is me being brave for you. Please come and find me. I hope it’s not too late. 
XX
Jungkook reads the letter one more time. It’s nothing like he imagined but everything he hoped. You’ve wanted him all this time; you still want him after everything. He senses the sadness and the hope in your words, and they’re things he feels, too. 
You want him to find you. And just like you, he hopes it’s not too late. 
He rushes out of his room and instructs Lucas to cancel all his meetings for the day. Jungkook heads to the support team’s office to tell Mr. Ri that there’s somewhere important they need to go. 
“Where to?” The older man asks once they get inside the car.
“___’s place,” Jungkook pants. “Get there as fast as you can.”
Mr. Ri doesn’t ask any more questions. He drives off and merely glances at the rear view mirror. 
“We’ll get to her,” he says. “One way or another, we’ll get to her.”
Jungkook could only hope, but when he gets to your apartment and finds it empty, that hope slowly fades. He’d call you but that’s not how he wants to fix things, he thinks. That’s not how he wants to ask you to be with him. He probably won’t even be able to say what he really means. So he tries one more, knocking and calling out your name, but no one comes.
“She’s not here,” someone calls out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Jungkook turns around and finds your elderly neighbor, a woman he’d seen that one day he visited you after you got injured. You’ve mentioned her a few times and how she sends over food on some nights and invites you for tea on some weekends. She looks kind and warm, and definitely curious.
“She… she asked me to find her,” he says dejectedly. “But I didn’t know she wanted me to. I didn’t see her letter right away and now… now it’s too late.”
“You’re the man she was waiting for,” she hums, walking closer. “She’s right, you’re very handsome.”
“She… she talked about me?”
“A few times. I asked about how she got home when she hurt her ankle and she said you helped her,” the woman smiles. “I don’t see anybody visit her other than her friends. And I’ve known her for years; I haven’t seen any other man she’s allowed in her home in all that time, nor has she talked about one. I knew then you meant a lot to her. But she said things were too complicated and that always held her back.”
“That always held me back, too,” he responds. He’d smile at the thought that you’ve talked about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone. There’s a reason why you stopped waiting. “Has she been well?”
“She has. She seems to have more life in her now. I always felt like her old job tired her out so much,” she says. “She’s excited to start fresh, and I’m proud of her. Oftentimes we stay in one place for too long and we just lose ourselves in it, you know? We lose sight of the things that make us happy and it was really brave of her to leave behind everything she’s known.”
“It was. I know that now,” Jungkook sighs. “Did she say if she found it? What makes her happy?”
“She did. She said she found you.”
The words hit him, as he knows it’s the same for him. You may have found each other in the place you’ve both been in for so long, but it’s losing each other that perhaps made you both realize what it was you couldn’t live without. Letting each other go showed what happiness actually looked like, and that neither of you wanted to be without it anymore.
“I found her too late, I think.”
“That’s for her to decide, though. You won’t know unless you look for her,” she hints. 
“When did she leave?”
“Tuesday afternoon. That was just two days ago. I doubt she’s changed her mind,” she smiles again. “Well, I’d love to stay here and chat but I have some grandchildren to pick up. And I believe you have someone to find.”
“I think I do,” he responds, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” she hums. “Get to her, okay? She deserves someone who won’t give up on her.”
You don’t, Jungkook agrees, as he nods in goodbye and heads back to the car. That’s not something he will do this time. All he’s done was let his fears and worries speak for him these past months and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, not when there’s more of you that he’ll lose. 
“She’s not home,” Jungkook responds to Mr. Ri’s questioning look. “I… I didn’t get to her in time.”
“Where to, then?”
Jungkook breaks as he imagines you in your apartment, waiting for him, wondering when he’d call or knock on your door. He can’t imagine you still doing that after he made you wait, but the one thing he’ll do this time is go to where you are and tell you everything he needs to. 
After the heartbreak he caused, he assumes you’d go to either your family or your friends. He remembers the way you’d talked about your mom in the past, and how her comfort was always the one you sought.
“Do you mind driving to Daegu?” Jungkook asks. 
“Not at all,” Mr. Ri smiles. “I figure she’ll be there, too.”
The long drive feels that much longer with Jungkook in the passenger seat, just looking out the window and watching the buildings and houses pass him by. He turns to the man next to him every once in a while, asking about how you were during your last weeks in the office.
“She was trying her best, making sure she had everything organized. She spent a lot of time with the team, too, and I think that lessened her guilt, because she felt that,” Mr. Ri shares. “She hated that she had to leave at this time, but I knew it meant a lot to her that she was finally doing it.”
Jungkook hums, thankful that the team assured you that it was all okay. But still, he wondered some more, and the look on his face is something that the older man reads. 
“She hated that she had to leave you, too,” Mr. Ri adds. “I think it mattered to her that she didn’t feel tied to your family through you, even if she was always going to be. It mattered that she made that choice to leave you, that she came to terms with who she is and her past and decided that it didn’t matter, that she still wanted you despite all of that.”
“You sound hopeful,” Jungkook laughs dryly. “That makes one of us.”
“You can tell how much someone cares by how they hurt, Jungkook. And during her farewell dinner when you didn’t show up, she… she was hurt,” Mr. Ri says. “I had to wipe her tears that night. I think that’s also when she realized how much she really felt for you, when she saw what life could be like without you and knew it wouldn’t make her happy.”
Knowing he made you cry again when he wasn’t there on your last day frustrates Jungkook. He held himself back that time, thinking that a short goodbye would be better for both of you. Then he spent the rest of the day at the Arts Center and he’d completely forgotten about the dinner. In his mind, he already let you go; seeing you another time would pain him again. But that’s what hurt you in return. 
“Why are you going after her now?” Mr. Ri bursts through his thoughts. “After all these weeks of avoiding her, of convincing yourself that letting her go was the right decision, why now?”
“It hurts so much without her. I guess it’s how I know.”
The older man gives a satisfied smile. He always knew that only both of you could decide for yourselves when the pain was too much because only both of you would really know what to do about it. You've done your part and now it’s Jungkook’s turn.
They make it to your neighborhood in over three hours, with only one stop over at a service center. It’s the house in the corner, Mr. Ri says, and realizing that you’re so close again, Jungkook starts getting anxious. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. He supposes that coming out here to see you on a work day is enough of a statement, and maybe you’ll both just take it from there.
The car stops and he looks at the man to his left, as if pleading to take the lead for now. 
“Aish,” Mr. Ri huffs. “Are you really gonna make me ring the doorbell and ask for her after driving you all the way here?”
“Yes,” Jungkook pouts. “I… I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn’t wanna see me because I made her wait too long? What if she’s angry? What if she realized while waiting for me that she made a mistake?”
“Over three hours sitting in the car and that’s what you came up with? That she’s angry?” Mr. Ri scowls. “Don’t make me think you’re hopeless.”
“Please?” 
The older man sighs, thinking that Jungkook just needs time to pull himself together before facing you. 
They both get out of the car, with Jungkook standing on the side of the entryway, hiding behind the shrubs just in case you answer the door. 
Mr. Ri rings the doorbell and not long after, the gate opens. And for all the years that Jungkook has known the older man - with his firm and often stoic disposition - this is the first time that he’s ever seen his face soften, the gentle smile appearing and lingering. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of appreciation it seems, before he says anything.
“Hye-soo. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Byung-hun,” the woman greets. “It’s been so long. When was the last time we saw each other? Was it ___’s 25th birthday?”
“I think it was. That was a really great day. Your house looked much different back then.”
“Who knew an old house needed repairs and renovations to stay up,” she laughs. “But it all worked out. We’ve got more space now.”
“Space enough for Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin to run about?” Mr. Ri chuckles. “I remember their tag game then. They complained how it always ended so fast. But ___ also told me they’ve grown up so much now. And that they adore you. How’s it like raising teenagers at this time?”
“Ah, difficult,” she chuckles. “But it’s wonderful. They… they truly see me as their mother and I… I get to do things right this time.”
“Hey, you always did,” he comforts, having seen her do everything she could for you. “No one could’ve raised and loved ___ better than you. You got through the toughest times because of that.”
“With a little help, of course,” she smiles. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you. And years later, you’re still looking out for her. That means the world to me.”
She’s where all my love goes to, Mr. Ri doesn’t say. He knew early on that the only way to not lose himself in losing her is to care for the one person she loves the most - you.
“And you? Have you been well?” Hye-soo asks. 
“As well as I could be,” he hums. “The stress isn’t the same as when I was working next to Jae-sung but he still tasked me to babysit his son; that in itself is a bit tough.”
“And why is that?” Hye-soo giggles, knowing there’s affection in his words.
“He’s a bit of a hard-head, you know? Pretty stubborn, too, just like his father,” Mr. Ri laments, disregarding the scrunched eyebrows of the man just meters away from him. “And he makes me drive all the way out here, only to be scared to face the woman he’s been looking for.”
“Is that so?” Hye-soo asks, picking up on the man in front of him gesturing towards the side. “I hope he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of.”
Mr. Ri finally turns to Jungkook, motioning for him to get out of hiding and do what he came here for. Jungkook sighs in his place, thinking that this is the first time he’s meeting your mother, and it’s after he’d made you wait and think that he doesn’t feel the same way. With his head bowed down, he walks towards the gate. 
There’s a softness on his face when he looks up, and Hye-soo beams in delight at how the man she hasn’t seen in over 20 years looks very much like the 10-year old boy who used to quietly draw cars and houses on the Jeon mansion living room floor. It’s that same shyness and those same wide and curious eyes that made her have a soft spot for the younger son. They reminded her so much of you. 
“Jungkook,” she says with such warmth. “You’ve grown up so well. It’s nice to see you after all these years.”
She definitely has your smile. It’s welcoming and assuring and perhaps the one thing he didn’t know he needed before seeing you. There’s so much comfort in her eyes, and there’s this subtle strength that she exudes, one that’s oddly giving him the courage to face you. 
“Mrs. Cho,” he bows. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I wish it was because of other reasons, though.”
“What’s wrong about the reason you have today?” She wonders. 
“A lot of things,” he sighs.
“Nonsense. You’re here. That’s all that matters,” she smiles. “Would you like to come in?”
“That would be great.”
Jungkook follows inside while Mr. Ri opts to stay behind. 
There’s something special about entering someone’s house. People spend time and energy to make it feel like home, to make it be a place of safety and warmth. It’s a place filled with all the things they care about, of all the things they love. 
Jungkook never designed the places he’s lived in; an irony, considering his profession. But his residences have always been a place for him to just move into, to just sleep and eat and work at. They’ve always been… empty - grand, expensive, well-designed, but empty. They’re superficial, he would say, a reflection of what he’s always felt. Which is also why he never really welcomes anyone other than his friends. The women he used to bring home don’t count - he’d let them in and make them leave; he never makes them stay long enough to be comfortable, to feel like they belong there. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like he belongs there, either, as if it’s a place reserved just for him to feel alone in. 
And so being welcomed in someone else’s home feels different. You’d done it to him, and being in your apartment both times made him feel at ease and familiar. Now, your mother welcomes him to the place where you grew up and it feels the same - there’s that comfort, that sense of nostalgia, even if he knows he’s never been here before.
“Welcome to our humble mansion,” your mother says. “Please, feel at home. Would you like some tea?”
“Uh, yes. Tea is fine,” he bows.
She heads to the kitchen and Jungkook is left to look around. It’s not a small house but it’s not large, either. He’s in the middle of a spacious living room, with shelves lining up the walls - one has family pictures in it, the other one has books and small framed paintings. The dining and kitchen are to the right; on the left is a hallway that seems to lead towards the bedrooms. There’s a screened door that also leads out the backyard. 
The entire space is airy, with lots of natural light coming through the windows. He spots some renovations done over time, as there’s some mismatch of materials, something only trained eyes could see. But they’re done well, and he could see the love that created this home for all of you. 
Your mother returns with two cups and places them on the table. She asks him to sit down, and Jungkook makes himself comfortable, facing the door as he gazes out at the sky and admires the beautiful changing of the colors. He knows you’d probably admire how it looks, too.
She observes him - nervous as he meets her eyes, a kind of desperation and fear evident as he constantly shifts on his seat. He’s grown up so much, but he’s still that shy little boy she remembers meeting all those years ago. She used to regularly go to the Jeon estate for some private events, and she won’t forget how Jungkook was the son who always kept to himself, content with a sketchpad and some crayons or riding the swing in his custom-built playground. 
“Do you remember me at all?” She wonders. 
“No,” he shakes his head. “Did I see you often?”
“A handful of times,” she responds. “Your father introduced me to you and your brother when I first started and I’d see you whenever I had to go to your house. But you were always so shy.”
“I was, but I… I wasn’t really good at paying attention. And I guess, there were a lot of things from when I was younger that I don’t remember,” he explains. 
The faraway look in his eyes says that there’s more to that, that they aren’t just things he doesn’t remember but they’re memories he tries not to, that he blocks out. 
“I’m sorry about what you had to go through as a child,” your mother says, having wanted to express her apology for years, knowing how much the experience haunted him. “I involved your parents in a very personal matter and that deeply affected your family. It affected you.”
“It wasn’t your fault. And I know it wasn’t my parents’, either,” he sighs, feeling regret over the resentment he felt and the distance he created. 
“They were just trying to protect you. I hope you know that now.”
“I do,” he hums. “Do you… do you know what happened that night? In the woods?”
“Byung-hun told me,” she nods. “I’ve never seen him so broken over not finding you sooner. He carried that guilt with him, too, that he didn’t look out for you the way he should’ve.”
“I… I didn’t know that.”
“That man feels a lot even if he doesn’t show it. He’s got the biggest heart that I know and he cares for you so much,” she smiles. “A lot of people do. That includes my daughter.”
At the mention of you, Jungkook’s eyes perk up, the softness mixed with sadness evident once more.
“She and I didn’t want our ties to your family to be known,” she explains. “It was a way for us to move on from all that happened. But in no way did she mean to deceive you. She… she would talk about you with such admiration and fondness. And you showed her that it was okay to let people in, that it could be worth it to follow her heart. She’d hoped that you could see past her decisions and know that she was sincere about everything. That she was sincere about what she felt for you.”
“I… I know that now.”
“And I suppose that’s why you’re here?”
“It is,” he sighs, wanting so badly to see you, even if he doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to. “Is she around?”
There’s a prolonged silence after his question, and your mother’s eyes flit to the far end of the house before they return to him. 
“She, uh, she picked up the girls from school and decided to have dinner out and watch the movies,” she excuses. “I’m not quite sure what time they’ll arrive. And it’s a shame that you came all the way here. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”
Jungkook debates whether he should wait to say all this to you, perhaps when you’re ready and able to see him, or to say what he can now, knowing it’s important that he gets to express whatever he can at this moment, knowing it will get to you somehow. 
But he also doesn’t know how much longer he can hold everything in. All the emotions he feels for you - the regret, the yearning, the desire to have you next to him - have been festering and he just needs to say them. Maybe doing so in front of your mother might be a bit of pressure, but if there’s anyone who can relay all this to you, it would be her.
“There’s a lot of things I’m not good at, Mrs. Cho. Opening myself up is one of them,” he starts. “But your daughter, she… she showed me that it wasn’t so bad. That it’s something I’m capable of doing, and that it’s safe to do that with her. Even when I distanced myself, she didn’t go anywhere, and that does a lot for a person.”
“She’s quite stubborn, isn’t she?” Your mother laughs, remembering those hard times when she’d tell you to get ready for bed, with you disobeying her because you wanted to hold her hand while she cried.
“She is,” he echoes. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her. One of many, actually. She’s also so patient and gentle and understanding… everything I’m not but… all the things I want to be for her. And I wish I’d told her all this when I had the chance but I was so blinded by my own needs that I… I eventually pushed her away. But she was still the one to reach out. She left that letter but I only saw it today and I…”
“Came all the way here to see her,” she finishes. 
“Is it too late, do you think?”
“Between the both of us, not at all,” your mother smiles. “She’s all those things you said but she’s human, Jungkook. She gets scared, too, and hard-headed and tired and upset because she feels so much when she allows herself to do that. And sometimes she needs someone to just show her that it’s worth it, that having fears is valid but that they’re not the only things out there. And you being here… I think it’s what she needs.”
She pauses so he could process her words, meeting his eyes so he could feel them even more. 
“You’re all she thinks about, you know? She likes being home with us and she’s excited for her new job but I can tell that there’s something missing. And I know that's you.”
“She’s all I think about, too,” he expresses, feeling more at ease now. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, I just always think about being with her. And I know that made her doubt, too. I’ve gotten so used to her presence but that’s not out of necessity. I’m not… a boss when I’m with her. I’m just… me. Because she made me see myself as someone beyond all that I do, someone worthy, and it’s that person who wants her, who needs her.”
Jungkook bows his head, angry at himself as all the words come out now, at a time when you’re not in front of him to hear them, to see that he means all of them. For weeks, all the things you said rang in his mind and every time you were in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to say but he never could, afraid of your rejection, of losing you for good. Now they’re out in the open, but somehow the words don’t seem enough. He realizes that when it comes to what he feels for you, nothing is. 
“These are the things I should’ve said to her but I just got overwhelmed at the thought of losing her,” he continues. “I don’t want that, Mrs. Cho. I don’t want to lose your daughter. I want to be with her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be scared anymore, that I want to protect her and take care of her. I want to make her happy.”
It’s the most he’s said about how he feels for you, and he feels quite overwhelmed about expressing them. But he has to say them. You have to know, even if you’re not the one in front of him. They’ll get to you, he’s sure of it.
“I know she wants that, too, Jungkook. And seeing you now, I just know you’ll find your way to each other again, and you’ll both be free from whatever it was that was holding you back,” she assures. “But if it’s not too much, do you mind being a little patient with her this time?”
“Of course,” he nods, knowing that everything that’s happened could make you a bit cautious again, and that’s not something he could blame you for. He’ll give you as much time as you need, and you’ll be the one to find him once you’re ready. “I’ll just be where I always am. And uh, the Arts Center opens tomorrow. It would be great if she could come.”
“She’ll know where to find you,” she smiles. 
He feels that he’s said all that he could, so he finishes his tea and stands up. He remembers that he bought something for you, initially hoping that it would make you smile once he gave them. 
“Could you, uh, could you give this to her?” He asks, handing your mother a plastic bag, somehow feeling ashamed that this is all he got as a peace offering. 
She peeks inside, her eyes widening in delight.
“Chocopie?” 
“Yeah,” he smiles shyly. “I would’ve given her flowers but I just thought this would make her happier. ___ told me that it’s her favorite because you’d give it to her as a treat while she waited for you to get off work at the school. She said it always made her day.”
“This was your favorite, too, wasn’t it?” Your mother asks. 
“It was. My mother said I always hoarded the ones she’d bring home and wouldn’t share it with anyone,” Jungkook chuckles, recalling those days of stacking them in his room and quietly eating them while he drew houses on his drawing pad. 
“You shared it to ___, though,” she says.
It catches him by surprise. He’s never done that, as far as he knows. This is the first time he’s even getting it for you. 
“That night those years ago, after I told your father what was happening, he offered us to stay at the staff house of your family’s estate until I’ve sorted things out,” she recalls. “We were in the living room while your parents talked to me and there was little ___, hiding behind my legs. I noticed her let go for a bit and that’s when I saw you, handing her some chocopie. She was always a shy kid but she took what you were giving, and I remember the smile on her face. Everything was new and scary for her and that… that was the first time she smiled that day. And I’ll never forget it.”
Jungkook stands in silence, as much of his memories from those years have been buried deep in his mind. He remembers hiding away whenever there were visitors at home but perhaps he looked on, curious about the girl who seemed scared and maybe something prompted him to share the treat with you, and something pushed you to take it. 
“I thought she was just being nice,” your mother continues. “She didn’t really like sweets then but she ate the ones you gave her. And when I’d take her to the convenience store after that, it’s what she always picked out. I’ve just been getting it for her since then, and that’s probably what she remembers but it was you, Jungkook. You’re why I bought it for her every time.”
“We’ve… we’ve met before. And I didn’t even know,” he manages to say, thinking now about the familiarity of your presence and the need to always look out for you. 
It’s something he always wondered about, how someone could just pull him in and make him feel things he’d never felt before - that comfort, that warmth, that desire to be good for someone else. It turns out, he’d felt those long before he knew much about the world. And while so many things happened that got both of you here, there’s still something serendipitous about not realizing you met as kids, and then finding each other decades later. There’s all this pain and sadness between the both of you, much of them intertwined, but at the end of it, you heal each other, you make each other stronger, braver. 
“She didn’t know, either,” your mother hums. “And this just means that she always kept something of you from that day. Without realizing it, you were always a good memory that she kept; you let her forget the bad things even though she'd forgotten about you, too. It’s how I know that even if she’s not the one in front of you right now, her heart will always search for you.”
Your mother’s smile is reassuring, as if she knows that it’s what he needs. He’d meant to find you today and tell you everything he feels, but somehow he believes it would’ve been hard for him to do that, and so expressing it is all he could do. He feels like he’s gotten so much despite not seeing you though. Learning that missing part of his childhood that had you in it is overwhelming enough, but perhaps it reinforces what he’s known all along - that his heart will also always search for you, it’ll always find you, and it will always be what he wants to hold close to him.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your home, Mrs. Cho,” he says as he bows another time and heads out to leave. “It means a lot meeting you today.”
“It does for me, too,” she states, leading him towards the door and out to the street where Mr. Ri waits. “And thank you for being good to my daughter. She’ll find you. You have to trust that she will.”
He nods, knowing he’ll just have to have faith in what you feel for him. And he hopes that as he walks away and gives you the space you need, you’ll trust in what he feels for you, too.
Your mother bids you and Mr. Ri goodbye, the longing look between friends hitting Jungkook deeply. They’re each other’s what if’s, and while one was able to live out another love, the other kept living out the one he let go of. It’s painful, and Jungkook now can’t imagine making that choice of letting you go completely. 
Love is a big word. It’s something he’s forgotten how to feel. He knows there’s still so much more to experience with you and love could be one thing, and that’s a possibility he’s sure he wants to live out one day.
He enters the car and sighs as he sinks in his seat. It’s been a long day and an even longer trip back home, but Mr. Ri insists that they take it.
The older man starts the car and looks dejectedly to his side. “So, she wasn’t there, huh?”
It takes a while but Jungkook answers. “She was.”
It’s a wild guess, but somehow he knew you were there, probably inside one of the opened rooms or in the hallway, just meters away from him but still so far away. Your mother had said you were out, but the way her eyes constantly flitted elsewhere, the way she gave him the time and space to just talk and express his feelings, and the fact that she’d shared that story about both of you meeting as children as if she meant to say it to you, too, all told him that you were right there. 
Maybe you hadn’t expected him to come. Maybe you didn’t know what to say this time. Or maybe you thought that seeing you would leave him tongue-tied again, unable to express everything he means, and you wouldn’t be wrong. He just focused on what he felt and not the right things to say or how you’d react at that moment, and he supposes that allowed him to be vulnerable, too. 
“And you’re not there with her because?” Mr. Ri wonders. 
“Because she needs time,” Jungkook states. “And it’s the least I could give her. And I’ll wait until she’s ready. We’ve spent all these months avoiding each other, thinking that letting each other go is the way to move forward but I… I know that’s not what I want. She is. And I’ll show her I mean it.”
“Well, you went to her. And that’s not all you’re doing.”
“I’m not good with words, you know that,” Jungkook shakes his head.
“I do. She knows that, too. So when she sees everything that you’ve done… she’ll know you mean it.”
It's the assurance that Jungkook needs, and he’ll hold onto that, too, until the time you find him again. Right now, he’ll focus on the Arts Center - he owes it to you to make sure that all the work you put into it is worth it. He knows you’ll want that, too. 
The long drive to Daegu had him think about how much of yourself you’ve given to the project that means the world to him. You may have done so because it was your job, but he can’t help but think that in the midst of it, you saw what he was yearning for, what he was trying to attain for himself, and that it mattered to you that he did. 
Jungkook and Mr. Ri go to a restaurant for dinner on the way back to Seoul, and the serious expression on the older man’s face has returned. This is his default state, but his soft, longing look is something that Jungkook won’t forget soon.
“How was it like seeing her after all these years?” Jungkook wonders. “Does… does it still hurt, knowing what could have been and the life she lives now?”
It takes a while but Mr. Ri finally replies. “In an alternate universe, Hye-soo and I are living with our family on some farm. We talked about that a few times, about wanting to grow old in a place that’s peaceful,” he recalls, all those long drives and hectic days becoming worth it whenever he shared them with her. “But this is the universe and lifetime I’m living now. The decisions I made brought me here, but they also set her free. You’ve met her, you’ve seen her home. She’s happy where she is and even if it’s not next to me, that’s the life I always wish she’d have.”
Jungkook hums, unable to fully comprehend the heartbreak of letting someone go like that, and then seeing them live a life that he could’ve shared with them. Thinking about meeting you at a park or something years from now, perhaps with a husband or children, and then wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you go plagues him. That’s not the life he wants. It’s not a decision he wants to make, and he could only hope that neither do you. 
He looks across at the man in front of him with all that love for the woman he can’t have, and Jungkook wonders where all of that goes, recalling a conversation from not long ago, when Mr. Ri first revealed about a woman he’s held onto for years. 
“Does it all go to ___, then? All that love?” 
“It does,” Mr. Ri hums. “It also goes to your family, Jungkook. It goes to you. Those have kept me going all these years and they always will, so seeing you and ___ care for each other means a lot to me, too.”
It’s a comforting thought, knowing that at the end of everything, Mr. Ri still finds happiness in others, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fall into a kind of despair that paralyzes him. Jungkook recalls growing up and seeing the older man always by his father’s side, joining him on his trips and then coming back with some treats that he gives to Jungkook and his brother. When he was in Singapore, Mr. Ri visited often, showing up whenever he had a project launch. Jungkook also knows that he stayed in Canada for a few months, helping Jeong-sik recover after an accident left him with broken limbs. 
And there was that incident that Jungkook carries with him, how he was powerless and alone under the rain but it was Mr. Ri who searched for him, who didn’t give up, who dealt with that guilt for years. And Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever thanked the man for all he’s done. 
They engage in light talk for the rest of dinner. Jungkook offers to drive the rest of the way home, insisting that it’s a way for him to preoccupy himself instead of thinking about you. They spend it recalling his growing up years, how he slowly isolated himself, and then how he gradually opened up again. The older man expresses how proud he is, that regardless of what happens after all this, Jungkook pursued his happiness, and that’s what matters.
“Thank you, for uh, for everything,” Jungkook says as he exits the car, hoping that his simple words would convey all his emotions. 
There’s a softness on Mr. Ri’s face this time, one that Jungkook has seen only twice in his lifetime, both of which were today. It speaks of care and warmth; he knows now that it also speaks of love.
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You lay on your mother’s lap, needing the comfort you always felt whenever she held you close and ran her fingers through your hair. It’s something she always did when you were a child, and she knows that despite having grown up, you need it now just as much as you did before. She doesn’t say much, letting the silence of your bedroom envelope the both of you this Thursday evening. 
It’s been a roller coaster of emotions this past week, and today pretty much took you on a deep plunge that has you holding onto your chest and wanting the stability of being on the ground. After you left that letter on Jungkook’s desk last Thursday, you stayed in your apartment and waited for days. 
In hindsight, maybe it was silly that you stayed put when you could’ve called or gone back to his office in an attempt to talk to him. But you weren’t sure what he was feeling, if he was harboring resentment for how you chose to leave, or if he was too busy with the Arts Center opening to even think about you. He kept himself busy during your last weeks after all, and he missed your farewell dinner, too. 
That letter was your way of expressing yourself without the fear of outright rejection. And giving him that decision to find you was your way of telling him that it was his call, that if he still wanted you, you’d be waiting for him. And that’s what you did, day in and day out - you waited for that knock on the door or for the ring of your phone. 
It drove you crazy, thinking that you could be with him already, but the possibility of him also deciding that that’s no longer what he wanted plagued your mind; it’s what kept you from making that call or paying him a visit. There was that part of you that couldn’t help but think that he might’ve wanted things to just remain as they are. It made you realize that despite taking that step of being brave, there was still fear within you that held you back.
The hope dwindled by the weekend despite the comforting conversation you had with your neighbor, and on Tuesday afternoon, the sadness took over. You packed your bags and decided that if you were to get over this, being with your family is where you need to be. You knew your mother would convince you to wait for Jungkook a little longer. She’d be the reasonable one and say that maybe he’d missed the letter. And she may be right, but if you were to pursue him again, you knew you needed to be around people you loved to give you back that strength and confidence.
It turns out, your mother was right. Jungkook did miss the letter. It took him days to see it, and he didn’t waste his time and went to find you right away. Perhaps that certainty that you’ve been needing is what turns out to be the one that overwhelms you in the end. You walked out of your room to find him in your living room, and you froze. You stayed rooted in that hallway, listening to him talk about what he felt for you, and all you could do was hug your knees as you sat on the floor, taking his words in, hoping they’d heal your heart as quickly as his silence broke it.
“Do you think he knew I was there?” You look up to your mother in question. 
“I think he did,” she hums. “I doubt he would’ve said as much as he did to me, someone he’s just met, unless he knew you could hear him. He had this look on his eyes - it was sad and sincere, full of regret but also of hope. And it just felt like was baring himself right there, hoping you’d know exactly what he felt.”
You think about it. Knowing Jungkook, he wouldn’t have let himself be that vulnerable to someone that easily, even if it was in front of your mother. He’s not always able to express himself to you, and maybe that’s why. Maybe like you, he loses his words and caves in in front of the person he wants. It’s happened so many times to you, and it’s one reason you chose a letter to express your feelings; saying it to him directly with all the uncertainties just terrified you. 
But he’d been bold, he’d been honest. And you got to hear his every word, and you believed all of it.
“Why didn’t you want to see him?” she asks, given that you’d shaken your head when she looked at you after he’d asked if you were around. “What were you so afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It felt so long being without him, and I was holding onto this hope after leaving that letter and then the wait just… it discouraged me. Somehow seeing him there paralyzed me a little,” you explain. “Suddenly I wasn’t ready. I had all these feelings that were hanging in the air and to hear that he returned all those was just… I… I was overwhelmed because he was finally within reach.”
“Both of you are in this constant push and pull that’s keeping you from each other,” she points out. “At some point, you’ll have to just get over the fear and meet him where he is and he’ll have to do the same. No one wins in fear, darling. Weren’t you the one who told me I owed it to myself to give Min-woo a chance? You’re the one who said it was better to be scared with him next to me than to be scared alone.”
“Easy to say that when I’m on the outside, it seems,” you chuckle. “I get what you were feeling then, mom, and I understand now how hard it must’ve been.”
“That’s true, so you’re gonna have to trust me that what you said was true - it was better that I was scared with him next to me than if I was alone,” she repeats. “But I made that choice and it was the best one, because I can’t be any happier than I am now because I let him love me, and I allowed myself to love him. You and Jungkook could do that. You just have to trust that it’s all worth it.”
You nod. At the end of the day, you know it makes a difference that it’s your mother reminding you all of this. It’s her pain that you carried, it’s why you were always scared of opening up and sharing your whole self to another person. And it’s also why it matters that it’s her happiness that she reminds you of that pushes you to get over your fear, or at least, to choose to be with Jungkook in spite of it. 
She tucks you in bed and tells you to get some sleep now. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, she says, as you have to make that long trip back to Seoul in time for the Arts Center opening. 
“As your mother, I’m kicking you out of my house,” she teases. “You are to head out there and tell that man how you really feel, okay? I won’t allow you back here until he’s with you.”
“That’s unfair,” you pout.
“It is, but so is keeping yourself away from him,” she shakes her head. “You take after me so much. Stop being stubborn.”
You laugh this time, knowing that while it’s that stubbornness that pushed Jungkook to open up to you, it’s that same trait that’s keeping you away from him.
“I will. And I’ll head out tomorrow,” you promise. “I’m so tired of being sad.”
“Good. No one gets tired from being happy, so that’s what you should try to be.”
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Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, tightening his necktie and then spending half a minute to determine if it’s aligned or not. 
It’s something he’s started doing. It’s been weeks since you left and stopped doing it for him, and even if Lucas has pointed out a few times that it was crooked, the younger man never really attempted to fix it. Jungkook didn’t really have a choice but to learn how to do it himself. For an architect with trained eyes, he’s ironically terrible at assessing something as simple as this. He never knows if he’s done it right, and he’ll always be amazed at how you do it. 
He finally decides he’s done it correctly, and he takes his coat to complete his look for the biggest day of his professional life. He opts for the classic suit this time, needing that refinement and elegance that a Kim Taehyung tailored outfit gives. Despite his best friend’s suggestions of trying something a little different, Jungkook insisted that simple is what he wants - the attention shouldn’t be on him, adamant that a textured charcoal ensemble would do its job. The pattern differentiates it from an ordinary suit so he at least doesn’t blend in too much and it’s a good compromise. You agreed with him on this months ago, and hearing you assure him that it looks good on him is something he’s missing.
He shakes his head at the thought. Here he is again, his mind going to you. Perhaps it’s his body’s way of dealing with the nerves; somehow thinking of you calms him down even if you’re not around. You’ve always had that effect on him, and with the unveiling of most important project of his life as the company’s Vice President, that composure and confidence is what he needs. 
It doesn’t stop him from wishing that you’d taken to heart what he said yesterday, not just about what he feels but about finding him. You know most of the details of today’s opening, and if you wanted to, you’d come to show your support even if he kept you in the dark during your last weeks. And if you really wanted to, you’d come to tell him that you want to be with him, and that you’re not going to walk away this time. 
It’s difficult to have today, of all days, be somewhat of a determinant of how things are going to go for both of you. He’ll definitely wait for as long as he needs to until you’re ready to face him again, but if it’s not today, he’s afraid there’s more that’s holding you back, and that not getting to you early on must’ve really hurt you. 
But he’ll keep on, as so much has happened for this day to be as successful as he hopes it to be. Hoseok constantly reminds him of the entire team’s hard work and that it’s what will pull him through. But beyond the expectations from his parents and the Board and past the importance for the artists involved, this was Jungkook’s dream as a professional, and he made it happen. He’ll hold out hope until the last moment that he’ll see you there, though, but if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with your absence like he’s been doing these past weeks.
Jungkook exits his bedroom and gets approving looks from his best friends who’ll be his support system for today. He’d gone to the Arts Center early in the morning despite last night’s long trip back to Seoul, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. It took some reprimanding from his father to finally go home to fix up, the older man claiming that Jungkook will need to collect himself before all the activities in the afternoon. 
There’s an interview with the Culture Minister, a press conference right after, and an afternoon tea spread in the nearby hotel for all the artists whose work will be exhibited for the opening - all before the ceremony scheduled for 5PM. It’s a big day and an even bigger evening, and he’ll have to preserve his energy and learn to manage, and it’s the first big event without you. He knows it’ll be hard, so do his friends, which is why they're here to show their support and lend their energy when needed.
“You look like the star of the show,” Seokjin praises. “It’s a really good suit.”
“The stars of the show are the artists, actually,” Jungkook corrects. “And the public. It isn’t me.”
“Too bad. It’s a simple suit but you’re styled to still get attention so own it,” Taehyung states. “You look really good, Kook. So chin up, okay? It’s all gonna be fine.”
Jungkook tries to smile, hoping that faking it would eventually make it look real.
“We know it’s tough and you wish you could share it with ___, but just think that she’d want you to enjoy this either way,” Seokjin comforts. “You also owe it to her to give it your best today.”
He knows his friends are right. So many things had to come together for today to happen. Everyone involved did their parts. He heard that there’s so much buzz on social media about the Arts Center and the registration that opened to the public exceeded expectations, and that’s only the beginning. Thinking of all the possibilities excites him, and he’ll hold onto that to get him through the day. Or the week and even beyond that, if needed. 
Jungkook nods and thanks his friends, saying that it means a lot that they’re there for him. It catches them by surprise because he’s not one to easily express gratitude or any level of sentimentality. They suppose it’s what having you around had done for him, and maybe losing you also reminded him of the importance of being vulnerable. 
They head to the hotel that’s one block away from the Arts Center. Jungkook goes through the interview with ease, and with the support of his father, Hoseok, Ji-woo, and Lucas, he manages the press conference, too. He takes some time to collect himself after all that engagement, then he proceeds to the event hall to meet with the artists, curators, and craftspeople and show his appreciation. 
He feels a sense of accomplishment already just knowing that they’re as excited as he is. The inaugural exhibitions feature their work, and the products created to commemorate them are all beautiful. It’s truly come together, he thinks, and he allows himself to feel pride for the first time, knowing that more than the structure, it’s the connections and the art that they’re all celebrating, and it’s what he always hoped to achieve with this project.
It’s not long after when he finds himself in the Arts Center, first doing the customary ribbon cutting with his father and the Culture Minister before entering the lobby where he’ll give the formal welcome and signal the official opening of the center. 
It feels different with so many people present, all awaiting to see how the structure was renovated and what new features they’ll look forward to. There’s a buzz of excitement that Jungkook internalizes, as he sits on a chair by the stage. He watches on as his father and cousins go around to meet the guests, opting to save his energy for his speech. It’s the feel of his mother’s touch that makes him realize he’s shaking, and he turns to her and is met with her warm smile. It’s been a while since he allowed that to comfort him, and at this moment, it’s what he needs. 
“It already looks gorgeous, son,” she assures him. “And you’re going to do amazing up there. People listen when you talk, and they believe in what you say. I’ve seen it. So just trust in yourself, okay? At the end of the day, the structure speaks for itself, and that’s what the people will remember.”
“Thank you, mother,” Jungkook smiles back. “And thank you for staying here with me. And uh, for all the other project launches that you attended.”
“Of course, Jungkook. I’ll always be there to support you,” she says. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Anything that you work on will be something I’m proud of. Never forget that.”
He nods, feeling a little lighter the more he accepts the love and support of those around him. He never really knew what that felt like, and he knows that’s all on him. He’ll try to change that now, and he supposes that expressing and receiving gratitude is one thing that he took from you. He just hopes he gets to have an opportunity to thank you again - he wouldn’t have done any of this without you.
Chin-sun approaches him to say that they’ll begin shortly, and Jungkook looks at the growing crowd one last time, that sliver of hope that he’ll see you keeping him going. There are so many moving parts to this entire project, but he knows he’s not alone. After tonight, he can breathe easy and look back at the year that’s passed and know that he put his all into this, and that it turned out to be exactly how he imagined it to be. 
It’s not long after when the program begins. CEO Jeon gives his opening remarks, followed by the Culture Minister, before Jungkook takes the stage. It’s a much longer speech he gives this time, as he wants to make sure that he gets to thoughtfully express his hope and purpose for the Arts Center. He talks briefly about its conception and then delves into the ideas of connection and intimacy, how he wants art to be experienced by people as both spectators and creators, and that he wants this to be a hub for people to create meaning, all while celebrating Korean culture in an environment that reflects the merging of tradition and modernism. 
He keeps his eye contact with the audience, and he sees their warm reception to his words. A video plays to introduce the artists and craftspeople who are featured, and then he ends with thanking everyone who was involved in the process - from the laborers, suppliers, and contractors, to the Board, the investors, and the executive team. He gives a special message to his project team and management support team, asking them to join him on stage because they deserve all the praise for how the Center turned out. 
There’s a resounding applause, and once that’s settled, he finally asks for all the doors to be opened. 
“There are so many things to explore here,” he says. “Please savor every space you enter and take your time. The meaning of art is something only you could define but the beauty is in the experience, and the experience is even more fulfilling when it is shared. Thank you very much and have a good evening.”
He watches the crowd disperse and he releases a breath. The night is far from over and the toughest part for him is just about to start, and that’s going around to see how everything is being received. His mother greets him after, congratulating him again. Hoseok and Ji-woo tell him how proud they are, and his father gives him that assuring nod, with words expressing pride and encouragement accompanying it. 
Jungkook quickly meets the team and gives instructions on how to divide and conquer before he heads to one of the performance halls. He sees Yoongi hanging around and there’s a warm smile on his friend’s face, a rarity because it’s not usually directed at him.
“You’re getting the hang of these speeches,” Yoongi hums. “___ would be proud.”
“Only if she’d heard it,” Jungkook sighs. “I looked around but I didn’t see her. Do you… do you know if she’s here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook nods, knowing he’ll slowly have to accept that maybe you’re not ready yet, or that asking you to find him here at a time when there are so many people might have been too much. There’s hope that you’ll give him a call or maybe meet him at another time. He understands what you must’ve felt while you waited for him, and he hates himself for making you go through that. It’s excruciating being on the receiving end of it, and it’s only been a few hours. 
“Let me know if you see her,” Jungkook instructs. “I’ll just be…”
“Around,” Yoongi chuckles. “I will. But your job continues, so go out there and find out what people are saying. I’ll be on the lookout for her.”
Jungkook thanks him and continues visiting the different halls, engaging with the artists and Board members and some other visitors along the way. He searches for your face in every space he enters, exiting them in disappointment when he doesn’t find you there. His heart slowly breaks, and he hangs on for a little longer until he starts to feel too much, with the tiredness from being on the go the entire day getting to him. 
It’s a hard call but he decides to leave. Hoseok assures him that it’s okay; he’s talked to every important person already and that’s enough. People will explore for as long as the Center is open, and he’s got the project and support teams to hold the fort for him. There’s not much else he needs to do anyway; their subsidiary company tasked to manage the operations has already taken over, and Jungkook’s main tasks have been fulfilled. It eases him, knowing that he’s not abandoning anyone by deciding to step out. 
As the hours go by with no sight of you, the heavier he feels. He needs time alone, not just because his battery’s gone out but also to just wallow in the sadness. It’s pitiful but it seems better than constantly hoping he’d see you here while being surrounded by so many people.
He goes to one final area before heading out. It’s the most special one, the one he dedicates to you, the one he hopes you’d one day see and know that he thought of you everyday, even during the days when it didn’t seem like it. He wonders if you’ll like it, if it would remind you of what you grew up with, and if it would be a place for you to feel safe and free and happy in, all the things he’d wished you’d feel with him.
One last look and there’s still no sign of you. He calls Mr. Ri and asks to be dropped off at the office. It seems like a better place to be in when he’s sad and upset. 
The building is empty on a Friday night. Everyone’s either at the Arts Center or gone home and he’s ironically the one craving for the loneliness of this place. He’s committed himself to his job for a decade and doesn’t know much of who he is outside of it. He learned a bit of that in the midst of the biggest change he’s experienced and the most challenging year he’s had, and it was through you. 
He learned that he’s actually quite caring, that there’s a protective side to him, that he steps up and shows up when he’s needed, and that he finds joy and peace in the outdoors. He’s passionate and a perfectionist but he wants to be a bit spontaneous, too. He makes mistakes and can apologize for them. He’s capable of kindness and in some instances, enjoys the company of other people with whom he can observe and laugh with. Being alone often made him feel lonely, and he realized that he’s someone who craves companionship, who wants intimacy, and that he’s someone willing to be vulnerable and share himself with the right person. And while he tends to be impatient most times, with you, he’s willing to wait. And for you, he’ll try to be better.
He enters his office and lets the silence envelope him. The city looks alive from his window but there’s dullness from within. He’ll get over it, he thinks, but until then, that sadness will remain for as long as you’re not in his life, for as long as you’re not next to him.
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You look at yourself in the mirror, the elegance of your rose-colored midi dress a contrast to the stress painted all over your face. You give yourself only a few seconds to admire how you look - there’s a bit of that sexiness from the v-neckline and front slit, and the flutter sleeves and other vintage details lend to a classic look. Your hair isn’t as fixed as you want and your makeup is too pale for your liking, but with time no longer on your side, those are the least of your problems. 
You couldn’t sleep last night despite your mother insisting that you get some rest. The image of Jungkook leaving your house plagued your mind. You should’ve ran after him and told him that you were sorry, that it doesn’t matter anymore if you waited, for as long as he found you. You should’ve stopped him to say that you wanted to be with him, that you were done with running away from what you really wanted, and that you’re willing to always be brave for as long as he held your hand and eased your worries. You should’ve gone back to Seoul with him, but you’d been too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to chase after what you’ve been yearning for. 
Deciding to come to the Arts Center opening wasn’t always certain. You knew you were going to visit one day. You worked hard on it, too, and you wanted to show your support even if Jungkook would never know. But when he asked you to find him there, you knew you had to go right away. You imagined him making that speech that you helped him draft months ago, donned in the gray outfit that Taehyung was proud to make for him. You envisioned the smile he’d have on as he looked around to see all his plans come to life and the visitors taking it all in. 
You just didn’t expect to sleep through your alarm and then miss the train by a minute. The travel wasn’t bad. The chocopies that Jungkook got you kept you satisfied the entire trip, but it was halfway back to Seoul when you realized that you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. The ones you have are either too formal, too casual, or meant for a night out. 
Taehyung had designed a dress for you but you said it was no longer necessary after you resigned; it was fortunate that he hadn’t started making it yet, and so the guilt wasn’t too much. You didn’t want to go to the opening in just anything. While it mattered to get there, you didn’t want to get any attention, and so dressing appropriately was your plan. Everything else in your closet would make you look underdressed, and you made the quick decision to pass by a store and grab the first nice dress you could find and then head home. 
The clock was ticking, and it didn’t help that you got stuck in traffic on the way to your apartment, and that a vehicular accident at the intersection outside your village forced the cab driver to take a longer route to the Arts Center. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the program was over, and Jungkook would probably now be in the midst of engaging with so many important people and you don’t want any of the attention that your arrival might bring. 
You finally make it though, and while minutes ago you were stressed and just desperate to make it to the Arts Center, now that you’re here, you’re quite nervous. You’ll face him again after so long, and the fact that happiness would be within reach brings about an unfamiliar feeling. But you also can’t wait to experience it. It’s a kind of joy and contentment you’ve only dreamt about, and you’ll finally know what it’s like.
Exiting the cab, you look around in awe. From this view, you could imagine the sunset framing the main building so beautifully. You enter the lobby and it’s even more spacious than you remember. Perhaps it’s the absence of all the laborers and materials on the floor. Now, it’s just this open space with art pieces placed around. The floor-to-ceiling windows would bring so much light in. It was one of the big changes to the old structure, and with the moonlight shining through, it feels as if there’s a natural spotlight on the art pieces. 
You’re enamored by the grandness of it all. Even more by the many people around, perhaps taking their time in exploring all that the Center has to offer. It’s such a massive space that it’s impossible to absorb everything after one go around, and you already can’t wait to take it all in the next time you visit.
It’s tempting to get lost in it but right now, your priority is finding Jungkook, but as you’re about to head to the second floor, Do-hyun’s whisper-yelling of your name catches your attention. She gives you a tight hug and there’s suddenly an air of sentimentality as the old team is together once again. It was just a year ago when you all took on the biggest project together and after all the highs and lows, it’s finally here. And while you missed out on the final weeks of preparations, they assure you that you’re just as much a part of those as they are. 
“You had to deal with the last minute changes, though,” you insist. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Only at the beginning,” Chin-sun says. “We were barely involved. We just helped with procurement but Mr. Jeon was the one who worked tirelessly on it. He had just two other people help him construct it and I guess that’s why he spent so much time there. But it turned out beautifully, and you wouldn’t have known it was only an addition.”
“Wha-what is it?” You ask, the curiousity taking a front seat for now. 
“It’s—”
“It’s something you need to see for yourself,” a familiar voice says. 
You all turn around and bow at the sight of CEO Jeon. He looks at you and smiles, gesturing towards one of the doors. You excuse yourself from the team and follow the older man, walking next to him in silence. 
“I was worried you weren’t going to come tonight,” he says. “I think that so was Jungkook.”
“I… I tried to come earlier but there was all this traffic and… I, uh, how did he do?” You ask. 
“Great, as always,” CEO Jeon answers. “He had everything under control and managed all the socializing impressively. He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”
“He has,” you smile, recalling the anxiousness that he used to feel at just remembering names and keeping up with people’s energy. 
“He’s come a long way in other aspects, too. Smiling, believing in himself, being kinder to himself… it’s great to witness,” the older man continues. “And standing by and caring for someone the way he did with you, that was… that was new, too.”
“I didn’t intend on feeling this way for him, sir,” you say, recalling that the last time you spoke, you weren’t ready to talk about it. “And I tried to suppress it, and that pushed him away but I guess, sometimes we lose people for a reason; we find them again for a reason, too.” It’s a statement that CEO Jeon had told you the last time you talked, and it’s one that stuck with you. “I’m here to find him again.”
“Good. I was hoping you would, so at least I’d know that all this wasn’t in vain,” he chuckles. “And I really do hope you see his heart with this, ___. He takes after me, and I didn’t realize just how much until he came up with this plan.”
You lose him for a bit, suddenly unsure of what he means. CEO Jeon notices, so he gestures towards his right and you follow his lead, and that’s when you see it. Your eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but gasp at the space before you.
“He’s not always good with words but he tries. And this is how he does it.”
You noted entering the grand library as he spoke. The walls and design were familiar, as you’d gone in here during your last few visits. But this area that you walk into is new. It’s not a large space but it feels like it now. It used to be a section of historical books and archived materials that were put on display, almost like a museum of literary artifacts that a historian had sold off. But it’s nothing like that now.
The glass enclosures have been replaced by shelves and bookcases, all easily accessible and reachable by anyone. The framed walls are no more - instead, there are reading nooks and character murals painted artistically, bringing them to life outside of the books they only lived in. The lights are not blinding; they’re warm and inviting, illuminating a space that makes you want to just sit or even lie in, especially with the large stuffed animals spread across. The chairs aren’t the same, too; there are couches all around, all soft and comfortable, decorated with knitted dolls and colorful pillows. 
You walk further, mouth agape as you take in every inch of the space that brings back so many memories from your childhood. This place is new but familiar. It looks nothing but everything like that neighborhood-run library that your mom used to take you to. Towards the back is a little activity area, with a large, leveled table and a row of shelves filled with coloring books and paper dolls. 
You feel chills as you realize what this place is supposed to be, and who this was meant for. 
You remember the first time you told Jungkook about this. It was after that incident at the restaurant. He took you to a park and told you how the playground was his favorite place, how it made him feel free and safe, how it allowed him to just be himself and imagine doing and being everything he wanted. You shared a piece of your childhood, too, and described that library you frequented, how you felt sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye to it, and that you hadn’t seen a place like that again.
But now you have. That last minute change that he made… It was this. 
You turn towards CEO Jeon and try to find the words to say but nothing comes out. You’re overwhelmed by what you see, by the memories they elicit, and by all the emotions overtaking you all at once. 
“Jungkook called me one evening and said that he was going to re-do the archive section in the library,” the older man says. “He wasn’t asking for my approval because it was his project, he’d said, but he just wanted to let me know. He made all the decisions and most of the design. He painted the walls and some of the furniture, too. He spent every afternoon here and stayed until the evening. He barely rested. He just… he just wanted this done. It was so important to him.”
“I… I told him about a place like this, that I used to go to,” you manage to find your voice now. “He never saw it but it… it looks like this.”
“Maybe you described it really well,” CEO Jeon smiles. “It’s how he’s always been. Just a few words and then it comes alive in his mind.”
“That’s why this Center is as beautiful as it is,” you hum. “He’s good at that, bringing to life everything that he envisions.”
“It’s his way of saying the things he can’t say, too. It’s something he got from me, I think. I’m not good with words either,” he admits. “So when Byung-hun told me that your mother used to spend her lunch breaks taking you to a library when you were younger, I knew this was Jungkook expressing everything he feels for you.”
“It’s a bit grand, don’t you think?” You say shyly. “Building something for someone is… so personal, so—”
“Sincere,” he finishes for you. “And intimate, I’d say. But my son, he feels a lot. Which is why I think he tries not to, and why he distances himself from others. He felt like he’d lost you, ___, even before he had you and that… messed with him. He needed to do this for you, but I think he also needed to do it for himself. If at the end of the day, you’ll no longer be a part of his life, this would remind him that you were.”
You blink away the tears that you quickly wipe off as you look away. If at the end of the day, he’s no longer a part of your life, this would also remind you that he was. But you don’t want that, because you want him in your life, you want every part of him that he’s willing to show, and you want to hold every bit of that in your arms, care for it, and never let it go.
The time you spent with so little of him in your life made you feel his absence, and that allowed you to recognize the pockets of joy you had with him. It gave you something to look forward to, to connect with, and to treasure. The first step was resigning, and that itself felt like freedom. You get to pursue that connection and deep desire by choosing him this time. Knowing yourself means knowing how your heart heals and loves, and you want him to be at the receiving end of that. 
“I… I need to see him,” you say, not wanting him to spend another minute without knowing how you feel. 
“You should,” CEO Jeon nods and motions towards the door. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”
There’s a soft smile on his face and you mirror it, as if to tell each other that all has been forgiven, that everything has been accepted, that there’s no more blame or burden to carry anymore. 
You rush out, wondering where to start looking for Jungkook. Turning to the left, you see Yoongi, who quickly rushes to you.
“What do you think?” He asks, gesturing towards the library where you’d just come from. “Is it close to the one you used to go to?”
“Yes,” you respond. “Did you help him with it?”
“Kinda had no choice,” he chuckles. “We were working on it while everything else was being completed. He didn’t want anyone else to know, especially you. I didn’t even know why he wanted to build a children's library all of a sudden when it wasn’t in the plans until that night you told me about your childhood. It clicked then.”
“He was already dealing with so much but he still had time for this?” You say, still in shock that Jungkook pushed through with this despite everything.
“He had a lot to say to you but he didn’t know how to. And I guess working on this was a way for him to deal with losing you,” Yoongi answers. “You mean a lot to him, ___. He was a mess without you.”
You think back at the times you felt that he was quickly replacing you, that he was distancing himself, that he was probably upset because you’d messed up his plans, and that he just wanted to move on from you. All this time, he was working on something that he could leave you with, all because he knew how much it meant for you to have a place like this.
“Now I just have to find him,” you say. “Have you seen him?”
“Not in the past half hour. He’s just been going around but I did tell him I’d let him know if you came. You should call him.”
“I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I did,” you sigh, knowing that it’s probably the same reason why he didn’t call you after not finding you in your apartment yesterday. 
There’s too much to say that can’t be said over the phone. You’ll probably be tongue tied once he picks up. 
You decide to call Mr. Ri, the possibility of Jungkook having left swimming in your mind after thinking of how long he would’ve been socializing. It’s been hours since the opening; it’s possible that he’s gotten tired from it all.
“___? Everything okay?”
“Do you know where he is?” You ask, desperate now. “Is he still in—”
“I just dropped him off at the office,” the older man answers. “I don’t know why he wanted to be there but I’m on the way back to the Arts Center. Do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”
“I’m here right now and I just saw what he made. I need to see him.”
“You can wait for me and—”
“It’s okay. I’ll find my way there. Thank you.”
You drop the call and start heading towards the exit, with Yoongi on your tails, offering to drive you.
“You’ve done so much already. And you’re needed here,” you say. “It’s okay.”
“True, I have. It sucked witnessing you two constantly going in circles when you both clearly can’t get enough of each other,” he chuckles. “So go, find him. You can both stop being such idiots now.”
“Rude,” you laugh. “But thank you, Yoongi.”
He smiles, and it’s a sight that’s gotten you through some of the toughest days. He tells you again to leave now, and you rush out as you book a cab, slowly getting impatient as you want nothing more than to be with Jungkook already. 
You get inside the car and watch the city pass you by. So many nights you’d done this, wondering about your life and where it was headed, hoping that one day you’d find the strength within you to go for what you’ve always wanted, whatever it was. A smile paints your face as you do it again now. One day is today, and with another act of bravery, you’re heading towards that other piece of happiness, and you’re finally claiming it for yourself. 
The office isn’t far, and with the traffic having eased despite the hour, you make it to the building in no time. 
You’re suddenly nervous once you enter the lobby. You’re used to late nights but it’s different this time. The security personnel assigned tonight still remembers you, and he doesn’t ask questions when you say you want to head to the VP’s floor. 
It’s a little nostalgic walking down the hallway, even if you were here just last week. It’s knowing that you’ll be seeing Jungkook at the end of it that makes you emotional, your heart beating fast as the seconds tick by. You quietly make it to his room, and with the door opened, you wonder if he expected you to be here.
You stand at the entrance and see him standing by the window, looking out into the city below. His sleeves are rolled up, and he has one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. You spot the bottle on the edge of the table and not far from it, the mess of folders and blueprints piled on the desk. 
“Why are you out here celebrating on your own?” You say, your voice soft despite the yearning you’re feeling. 
He hears you though, as the swirling of his drink stops and he slowly turns around to look at you. He looks tired, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up. You wish he notices the way yours do, too.
“The Arts Center is beautiful, Jungkook. You should be enjoying it with everyone else.”
“It didn’t feel right without you,” he answers, walking towards his table where he places the glass next to the bottle. “It felt incomplete without you around. You… you were a big part of that.”
“Why did you leave, then? That’s where you said I’d find you.”
“Is that what your mother said?” 
“It’s what I heard,” you say. He doesn’t look surprised, and maybe a part of you knew that he knew you were there, but still, he asks.
“Why didn’t you see me? Why didn’t you want to talk to me?”
You start to walk closer and see the sadness in his eyes. It brings you back to this room weeks ago, how those same eyes looked at you in dejection, in guilt. You hate hurting him, and you don’t ever want to do that again. 
“I realized that I easily accept it when I’m told that I’m being selfish and that I don’t deserve happiness. But when it comes to someone’s genuine feelings, I cower,” you respond. “Your sincerity scared me and maybe that’s why I doubted it the first time and I’m sorry that I did.” 
Your voice starts to shake now as the emotions intensify with every word you say, and with every inch of distance you eliminate. 
“I’m sorry that I pushed you away, that I left, that I kept my past from you. I’m sorry that I was so scared about everything, especially about the way I felt, only because it was all so new. It was all so much; wanting you became too much, I didn’t know how to stop. But I…” you blink away the tears, not realizing they’ve been waiting to fall. “I realized I was more scared to lose you. I was foolish to think that I could just move on and forget about what I feel for you. I thought it’s what you wanted to do, too, and—”
He shakes his head, and it’s the most reaction you’ve gotten since you started speaking.
“All I’ve done since that night you left me here was think about you,” he says, now able to say what he’s been meaning to. “I didn’t know how to stop that either. Wanting you was no longer enough and I wanted to be with you but I didn’t think I could, not when I thought you didn’t want me. You left and I… I didn’t know what to do.”
“I knew it’s what I needed,” you admit. “I… I reached a point where if you asked me to stay, I probably would and I didn’t want to. I wanted to know myself outside of all this and I didn’t want you to be the reason why I’d stop myself from doing that, from searching for whatever would make me happy but I realized that it’s you.”
You take another step, your body aching for him as your heart beats faster. “I felt free but it didn’t feel like I thought it would be. I didn’t want to be here but I wanted to be with you. And I’m sorry it took so long.”
“I didn’t find you right away,” he whispers, as if he still carries that guilt with him. “I was so caught up with everything else, with dealing with the fact that I lost you.”
“The library,” you say. “You were caught up creating something for me.”
“I… uh, I didn’t know how to say everything that I wanted to say,” he sighs. “And I’ll probably always struggle with that but… I just thought that as you go about your new life, I could build you a place where you’ll always feel safe and free, and that if I can’t be that person to comfort you, you’ll have a place that can do that. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to forget me. But I also just wanted you to know that I was always going to think about you.”
“Doesn’t it feel a bit grand?” You ask now, inching closer once again as he takes another step forward. “Building a library for someone is a pretty big deal.”
“You would’ve been my biggest what if. I probably deserve something grand to remind me of how stupid I was that I let you go.”
“You’re not gonna do that again, are you?” You teasingly smile. “Because I won’t.”
“No,” he says a little seriously. “I put you through so much, ___. I just… I just want to be someone who would care for you and would make you happy.”
His words are simple but they carry so much. You suppose at one point, that’s all what’s started to matter. All he wants is to be part of that happiness you’ve been searching for. Maybe it’s what’s been missing in his life, too, and all you want now is to be a part of it.
Another tear falls down your cheek, and you appease the worried look on his face by saying that it’s a happy tear.
He softly smiles, wiping it off with his thumb before cupping your face in his hand. He’s gentle as he caresses you, and you learn everyday just how capable he is of giving warmth, that there’s such tenderness within him that he’s unable to fully show. 
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admits. “So many times that I’ve seen you cry and I’ve just been… so powerless to do anything.”
“Now you aren’t,” you breathe out as you eye his lips, knowing they’re what you need at this moment. “Now you can—”
His proximity stops you, as he bends down and closes the distance. His mouth presses against yours, the hint of alcohol intoxicating you a little but it’s the feel of him that makes your mind hazy. With his hand still cupping your cheek, he pulls you towards him, his tongue merely licking your own when he slides inside as if to tease. 
“Do that,” he finishes, pulling away only a little bit to allow you to answer.  
“Yes,” you heave, wanting so much more now that you’ve had a taste of him again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
“Good,” he pants, grazing the tip of his nose on yours. “I don’t plan to.”
You’re unable to take a breath before his mouth crashes against yours, but you don’t mind, not when you immediately lose yourself to the way he feels. The kiss is desperate, with his tongue seeking entrance right away and then entangling with yours. Yet it still feels gentle with how he holds you, as his one hand continues to caress your face while the other glides down your side torso, settling on your hip to pull you closer. 
Your fingers grip his dress shirt, needing that anchor to ground you as you feel yourself drifting, getting lost in what you’re feeling - pure desire, an insatiable need, a sense of relief that there’s finally nothing holding you back. He angles your head, allowing him to go even deeper, and you let him take control, you let him breathe you in, let his tongue explore your depths before he pulls back and nibbles your lower lip. 
But he doesn’t stop just like he said, as he makes his way to your neck. You moan once you feel him lick the shell of your ear, the sound urging him to do more. He finds spots that have you grunting in pleasure, sucking and licking and pressing soft kisses on them, leaving you a pleading mess. You chant his name, grind against him for that friction you badly need, and pull on his shirt, as if wanting that barrier gone. 
“Fuck,” he groans, meeting your hips. “Fuck, you sound good.”
Jungkook feels the shiver of your skin, as his mouth slides up and down your neck while he grabs your  waist. He loses himself in the sounds of your moans - constant and yearning - just as heavenly as he remembers. You’re pliant, moving your head to give him access, letting him explore whatever’s exposed for him to do as he pleases, to taste whatever you can offer right now. 
He pulls you for a kiss once again, and there seems to be more desperation now, as you try to dominate, to taste him, to keep him there. Your hand finds his, guiding it to map your body, to let him know where you want him, to tell him where he can go. He curses under his breath when he feels your breast, fondling it for the brief moment it’s there before you direct it further down. You know exactly what you want and he’ll give it to you. 
The front slit of your dress makes it easy, and when his finger grazes your clothed cunt, you let out a sound that rings in his ear, and he wants more of it. 
“You like that?” He huffs in your ear. “You want me to touch you like that?”
“Ye—yes,” you mumble, unable to say anything more.
Jungkook hears your desire. He feels it, too, but he teases a little, gliding down the wet patch before slowly pressing on your clit. You jerk a little, briefly pulling away from him so you can take in a long breath. You bite your lip and he knows that you’re holding yourself back.
But he wants more and he can tell that so do you. He doesn’t care where you are right now; all he wants is to taste you, to feel you pulsate against his tongue, to make you feel good and let you know what he can give.
He looks down where his fingers have slipped past your underwear then back at you, the lick of his lips his way of seeking permission. You seem to know what he means, and you nod, granting it to him. He pulls you again for a kiss, much rougher this time, before he pushes you against the desk and lifts you so you could sit on the edge, just like that first time. But like you said, you won’t stop him anymore. And he truly doesn’t have an intention to.
His mouth moves down actively, kissing every clothed and exposed part of you it passes while slowly lifting up your dress. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs open, aching to taste even more of you. But he glances up and sees the anticipation on your face, his mind hypnotized even with just this view alone.
Holding your gaze, he teases, with his tongue merely grazing your throbbing cunt.
You tense up but it’s what gets you pleading.
“Please,” you whimper, the sight of him from below leaving you in a daze. “Jung—want—plea—I—”
You’re unable to form proper words so he finally gives in, pulling your underwear to the side. He grunts, as the sight of your wet lips has his dick getting even harder. Your desire matches his, and all he wants is to fulfill your need.
With the barrier gone, he presses his tongue flatly over your clit, warming it up first before he starts moving around. He alternates fervent licks on it with slow movements everywhere else - on your lips, on the sides of your thighs, and inside your hole. It’s messy and absolutely mind numbing, as your scent and and the way you taste divine have him burying himself even deeper into you, losing himself even more when he feels your hand in his hair, pushing him towards you as if you don’t want him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t mind. He’d live here if he could.
You start to give in, your legs slowly closing on him but he pushes them apart, keeping them open so he could do more. With his movements, he pulls you closer to the edge - of the table, of your orgasm - and he buries his face there again, licking and sucking and moaning like a man starved. 
The sounds you make drive him crazy, and that's with you still holding back. You’re still in his office, doing something you both definitely shouldn’t, and he supposes you don’t want your obscene sounds to echo throughout the floor despite it being empty. He can’t wait to hear you without anything stopping you. 
You start to shake and that’s how he knows you’re close. He feels your uneven breathing, hears your broken chants of his name, and sees your grip on the table getting tighter. He wants to take you there, and with one final nip of your clit, you crash, the low, long-winded sound satisfying his need to pleasure you.
You try to catch your breath while he laps up your juices. You’re still sensitive, as your legs jerk with every movement of his. He takes a peak and sees your half-lidded eyes and parted mouth, but you eventually return to your senses and meet his gaze. You’ve had enough, it seems, as you pull him up and meet his lips. 
Jungkook tastes of you, and you kiss him languidly, still out of breath and definitely in a daze. You want more of him, though; you want to bury yourself in him and elicit hypnotizing sounds that’ll have him chant your name, too, so you start to palm his hard length in return. But he goes soft on you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist before he cups your cheeks again while he returns your kisses.
“This feels quite familiar,” you hum against his lips.
“Really? I don’t remember you pushing my head between your thighs the last time,” he teases.
“Oh, shush,” you frown, quickly realizing exactly what you’d done. “I can’t believe I had you eat me out on your desk. In your office. On a work night, too. And while you have an event going on. Your father will be so angry.”
“Good thing he won’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, clearly unbothered. 
But you aren’t, so you pout at him. “What was I thinking?”
“Maybe you missed me too much, and I can’t blame you, since you know, I did, too,” he reasons, his shy smile turning cheeky in a second. “Or maybe you wanted to leave me with a gift or something,” he smirks. 
“True. When you’re stressed at work you can just remember what you did to me here and then you’ll feel better, I guess.”
“Actually, that’ll probably frustrate me,” he chuckles, pulling you closer again and wrapping his arms around you. “Thinking about how good you sound and how amazing you taste without you around… Yeah, I’d be angry.”
His praise flusters you, and you briefly turn away. But he assures you again that his father won’t know, and that you’re in the clear despite the indecency you both committed. 
“And it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “That is worth whatever trouble I’ll be in, if it happens. I… I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted you right away.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks again, and you giggle and bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting, the way he giggles back but hugs you tighter. He smells just as you remember, and you think that this is how you want your days to go from now on - flushed against his chest, cradled in his arms, with his soft lips giving you shivers as he kisses your forehead. 
It’s just your joint breaths that you hear now, and you turn to him, your soft smile making his heart skip a beat, and he knows that this is how he wants his days to go from now on - safe in your embrace, with your soft lips tracing his jaw and leaving teasing pecks on his cheeks. He captures them in his, basking in the taste of you, and it’s not long after when the kiss intensifies, leaving him wanting more again.
But just as you return his desire, it’s at that moment when the phone rings, catching both of you off guard and in surprise. He appeases you, as your eyes look at him in worry. He picks up the call, and he hums in confirmation before putting the phone down.
“The building is scheduled for sanitation in half an hour,” he says. “We have to go.”
“Oh right. I remember putting that in our calendars,” you hum, getting off the table and feeling the dampness of your underwear.
You fix your dress, trying to make it less uncomfortable. You turn to him who looks at you shyly.
“Can I take you home with me?” He asks. “Maybe we could, uh, continue this and you know, make up for the time we spent apart?”
“Yes,” you respond, feeling your heart race at the possibilities of tonight. “I’d like that.”
He nods, unable to control his own smile. He motions towards the door and you walk out side-by-side, knowing enough that there are security cameras around. There’s at least that unspoken agreement that neither of you want the attention that could come from having this exposed, whatever this is. But you suppose you have time to figure it out. You’ve both expressed enough that you want each other; you’ll just have to talk about how to move forward and make up for all that’s happened. 
It’s cheeky glances from the elevator down to the car. But once he drives out of the building, he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He smiles when you tighten your hold, as if to say that you don’t want to let go of him, too. 
You explain that you woke up late and had to buy a dress that’s why you didn’t get to him earlier. You share how you met the team and then his father, and the anticipation you felt on the way to the office to see him. 
Jungkook narrates how his day went, saying that the interview and press conference were successful, and that he received so much praise from the artists for how the Arts Center turned out. You compliment him, too, saying how everything looks grand but that each individual space feels intimate, personal, and that you can’t wait to explore it further. 
The conversation is a good distraction, as the moment from earlier still has you reeling internally. His taste is addictive, and there’s just so much more of him you want to see, to feel, to immerse yourself in. He seems a bit impatient, too. He’s driving close to the speed limit, perhaps wanting to get to his place as soon as he can to continue what you both started. With everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t mind doing it all night. 
You finally make it to his building, and he constantly pulls you close as you make your way up, with his hand snaking around your waist while you smile at him. But when he opens his door and you enter his penthouse, he keeps his distance, letting you walk through his hallway and into his kitchen as he looks on.
He walks slowly towards you and his heart starts to beat faster, knowing he’s got you alone now, and that there’s no limit to what both of you could do. But though he wants to just take you in his arms, feel you against him again, and kiss you until you both run out of air, he decides to savor this first - the sight of you back in his apartment. 
It’s been so long. And with you looking as beautiful as you do in your pink dress, he wants to ingrain this image of you in his mind - happy and content, with a tender smile that’s already healing the parts of him that once hurt. 
“Your place looks the same as the last time I was here,” you say, looking around.
“Well, I haven’t really been spending time here,” he shrugs. “I was too busy being an idiot and making this children’s library for this girl that I’m really, really into to make up for it. And well, she’s here with me now. I feel like this place is going to start feeling like home.”
“Plants would help. And maybe some personal photos,” you tease, but you reach out your hand that he takes and you pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and grazing your nose against his. “But I’m also here. And I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I just happen to really, really be into you, too.”
He laughs, and it’s a sound you once said you want to hear all the time. You think from now on, you will. 
“Good. I’d like to keep you for as long as I can.”
His eyes turn serious and it makes you feel hot all over. It’s hard not to use his playboy lifestyle as a basis for how he’d be, and you can’t help but think just how good he’s going to make you feel. There’s always been so much tension with him that in hindsight, you’ve always tried to quell or overlook, but there’s no need for that anymore. You’ll let your desire take over, release all that lust and yearning until he knows just how much you want him in ways words could never express. 
But just as he closes the distance between you, the doorbell rings, and his groan of frustration makes you laugh. It’s as if the universe is edging both of you with these distractions. 
Jungkook looks at you in apology and agony. “That might be Mr. Ri. Or Lucas,” he says, remembering that they’d said that they’ll drop off some of the gifts he received in celebration of today. If he doesn’t answer, they’ll probably enter on their own, since he’s given them permission to.
So he lets you go and heads towards the door while you scurry to the left towards the hallway. 
You doubt whoever it is would come all the way inside so you don’t really attempt to hide, but you do lean by the wall and listen in. You’re appeased to know it’s Mr. Ri, as you see him enter with several gifts and packages. 
“These are from the artists and the Board. There are art pieces in the cart outside so just bring them in,” he instructs, oblivious to you standing not far away. “They gave you lots of alcohol, too. I thought to bring them here already for whatever reason you might need them.” 
The older man chuckles and finally looks up and sees you.
“And I assume that reason is to celebrate,” he smiles now, and you don’t miss the smug look on his face that makes you feel flustered. “I was just gonna say that ___ was looking for you,” he turns to Jungkook. “Looks like she’s found you.”
“She… she did,” Jungkook smiles back. 
“Good. It’s about time you kids made up,” he teasingly rolls his eyes. Heavens know how much he had to deal with, with you and Jungkook being such hard-headed idiots.
“We were in the middle of it but then we got disrupted,” Jungkook frowns, to the amusement of the older man.
“Oh, I wonder who did that,” Mr. Ri teases. “I better get going then.”
He sets aside the boxes and turns to both of you. 
“But before I leave, I just… I just want to congratulate you, Jungkook. The Arts Center is a beautiful piece of artwork. And that… that last-minute thing you did… I’m telling you now that it drove your father crazy. But he… he told me how proud he is of you,” he continues, his look softening as he recalls their recent conversations, including the one just before he drove here. “To do all that for someone you care about, that takes a lot of heart. I think that you, finding it and using it is what he’s happiest about.”
His words are followed by Jungkook’s nod, perhaps in appreciation, and silence, as you’re unsure what else could be said after that. Mr. Ri excuses himself after bringing in the last set of gifts and there’s still that soft smile on his face before he leaves. 
It’s happening, he thinks, and despite all the time it took for you and Jungkook to get here, he supposes it was the only way. It would’ve been easier if he or even Yoongi or Hoseok went ahead and spoke to both of you, perhaps to say it was all a misunderstanding or that there was nothing to be afraid of, not when you both undeniably felt the same way. 
But he also knew that you both had to come to that realization on your own, that life without each other isn’t something neither of you wanted. You also had to make that decision for yourselves - to be vulnerable, to be brave, to take risks, and to find out that it would all be worth it if you’re just honest about how you feel. It seems you’ve both figured it out now, and he can finally feel at ease that two of the most important people in his life can now take care of each other, and that the love he gave helped both of you to get here.
Jungkook leads him out the door then returns to you, and as he walks to where you are, you’re finally able to appreciate how he looks. It’s just like the other times when he had an event to go to - hair slicked back, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dress shirt accentuating his toned chest, and the fit of his trousers showing off the rest of his figure. You eye him up and down and he smirks at you in response.
“So… you exposed yourself, Mr. Jeon,” you say, pulling the neck of his tie to bring him closer to you. “Who taught you how to use your heart like that?”
“Who knew I even had one in the first place?” 
“I did.”
“Not at the start though,” he says, with a hint of guilt in his eyes.
“It was there, you were just hiding it. But I saw it. And I got used to it. Then I couldn’t get enough of it, of you,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And now I just… I want more of it, Jungkook. I want all of you.”
Having you be so bold about what you want does something to him. It already got him weak in the knees when you directed his hand where you wanted it earlier and when you looked at him to grant permission about having a taste of you. Hearing you say you want all of him causes his mind to short circuit, but he recovers quickly, as he nods and releases a breath before cupping your face in his hands then crashing his mouth into yours again. 
It’s sloppier this time, as you both try to take in as much of each other as you can. Your tongues battle for dominance, you nibble and lick each other’s lips, and you moan with every breath as he’s got you caged against the wall, your hands gripping on his shirt to pull him even closer.
You feel Jungkook’s length hardening as he’s flushed against you, and you grind against him, needing that friction badly. He meets your hips and releases your face from his hold, supporting your back that now arches as you chase him, as he finds purchase on your neck, licking and sucking to elicit the most obscene sounds from you. He kneads your ass while you moan his name and plead for more, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure with just this, and you can’t wait for what comes after.
“Please,” you beg, as you feel your cunt throb in pain.  
Jungkook doesn’t need you to say anything else, as he has the same desire to feel your body. There’s so much he wants to do to you, so much more he wants to touch and feel. He wants to know how else you sound like, what makes you lose your breath, what makes you quiver and shake. He wants to know how else his mouth could make you come and how his fingers can drive you wild. He wants to know how your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, how much of him you can take, and how it’s like to be buried deep inside your warm walls as your essence coats him. 
He wants you right now, so he heads towards the closest room, guiding you backwards as he unzips your dress and removes your bra. His hands immediately map your bare body, feeling the shiver in your skin with every movement. You whimper when he fondles your breast, and the thought of you being sensitive to his touch makes him even harder.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he guides you to lie down. He trails downward, nibbling as he goes and memorizing your body this way. His mouth reaches your waist, and from here, he finds himself intoxicated from your scent. He slowly removes your soaked underwear and the sight of your went cunt makes him throb in pain.
You’re so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He can’t believe he waited so long to have you like this.
He thumbs your clit, and your continuous moans and calls of his name make him give in. He stands up and smirks at you and, taking your hand, he replaces his fingers with yours, his eyes ordering you to touch yourself.
You follow, and though it doesn’t feel as good as how he does it, the pleasure hits differently when you watch him loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. All those months of doing your morning routine comes back to you - now you get to see all that’s underneath the clothes you prepare, and when he pulls down his trousers, your mouth drops the same time it does. He’s thick and veiny, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 
His eyes are on your sopping cunt while yours are on his fingers as they stroke his length, getting himself ready for you. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, and while there’s the tiniest bit of disappointment, you don’t mind. It’s something you’ll eventually talk about. Right now, you just want him inside of you and you call out for him another time, prompting him to smirk once again and walk towards you.
He replaces your hand with his fingers this time, and when he returns to touching you, he climbs on the bed and hovers over you, lowering himself for a searing kiss.
“Good girl,” he hums against your lips.
You lose it, as if you hadn’t lost yourself already, but his deep voice and the way he grunts against your skin do something to you. You feel his cock not long after, and no amount of yearning for him could prepare you for how good he feels. He fills you up just right, and the gradual way he enters you while his eyes bore into yours has your stomach in knots and your heart beating out of your chest. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he mouths as he goes deeper. “Fuck, baby, you feel so, so good.”
He hits the edge and he settles for a while, letting you get used to the feel of him, but when you start to grind against him, he decides to do the same.  
He moves his hips, pushing then pulling out then pushing harder. He raises himself and intently watches your face distort in pleasure - your breath hitching, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded as you moan his name, as if it’s the only word you’ll remember after all this. He starts to increase the pace, loving the way your breasts bounce in response. Then he slows down, only so he could capture one of them in his mouth to suck and the other, in his hand to touch. 
The feeling of ecstasy overtakes you. He doesn’t go rough all the way, as you initially expected he would. Instead, he paces himself, going fast for a period of time and then slowing down to let both of you bask in the feel of each other. He doesn’t seem to want either of you to come right away, you can tell, by the way he moves and the way he looks at you - with a kind of longing and desire that feels so intimate.
He gets back on his knees after and spreads your legs, giving him more space to pound into you, and with his hands gripping your hips, he pulls it towards him to meet his. You feel him deeper inside, and it has you holding onto your breasts, pleasuring yourself there, too, as he starts fondling your clit once again. 
You’re feeling everything everywhere, and your mind starts to go hazy when he lifts your leg and places it over his shoulder, allowing him to enter you from an angle that has you mewling in intense pleasure. You feel your eyes rolling out, but somehow they land on him, and the way his head tilts back while he grunts in pleasure as he caresses your thigh is a sight that you want to keep seeing. That image of his clenched jaw and strained neck will be ingrained in your mind from now on.
You continue with this pace for a while until he lowers himself and kisses you, hard and deep the same way he thrusts into your hole. With his chest flushed against yours, his mouth sucking and licking your neck, and his hand flicking your pert nipples, you come, the deep inhale and the exhale of moans echoing inside the bedroom. 
Jungkook feels your essence despite the barrier, and it’s a kind of euphoria that pushes him to reach his peak. He hovers over you again, pinning your hands to your side for that anchor he needs. He meets your tongue with his, and then he pounds hard, wanting that high as you come down from yours. But you don’t hold back, as you meet his hips and curse and tell him how good he feels 
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you seethe. “You fuck me so good. Fuck, fuck, yes. Keep going, please baby. Keep going.”
Your words push him over the edge, and he crashes before he knows it. He grunts as he catches a breath, a way to express the intense pleasure he just experienced. But he sees you still panting. You may have already come but another one won’t hurt, so he nibbles on your breasts again, knowing it won’t take long. You’re already close, and with a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, he feels you quiver again. 
“Come for me again, baby,” he mumbles. “I wanna hear your pretty sounds again.”
It doesn’t take long. There’s a tone of your moan that lets him know you’ve reached your peak, and he keeps that in mind for everyday that he plans on doing this to you.
You catch your breath, feeling as if you’re in a daze with what you just experienced. As you come down again, you meet his eyes. They were intense and lustful earlier but they’re soft now, just as his smile is. There’s contentment on his face and adoration. He kisses your lips, and that’s soft, too, before he turns to your side and lies on his back. 
Jungkook feels the exhilaration from that ride with you, and he definitely wants to do it again. But he knows he’ll have to recover. He turns to you and thinks that you’ll need some time, too, but he can’t help himself. He presses soft kisses on your torso, up until he reaches your cheek, and that causes you to smile.
He finally stands up and tells you he’ll clean up, and you nod, somehow needing a moment alone to wrap your mind around what just happened. 
It’s different, you think, when sex is with someone you actually feel really strongly for. All the ones before don’t compare. Sure, you were attracted to the men you dated, but they never made you feel anything close to this. Perhaps it’s Jungkook, but maybe it’s also you - for the first time, you’re giving more than just your time and your energy. For the first time, you’re giving your heart, too. All of it.
The thought makes you giddy. It also makes you shy because it all feels new. And it suddenly makes you hyper aware of where you are. 
You look around. This is a new room. Other than Jungkook’s bedroom, you’ve only been to his study; this door was always closed and you never had a reason to see what’s behind it. You know he doesn’t really have people over but you assume an extra bedroom is always good to have.
You start to feel cold without Jungkook’s warmth, so you shift on the end and pull the covers, burying yourself under it. You don’t remember where your dress is, and you’re suddenly too shy to just head out the room and get it. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits the bathroom with his boxers on, and even that has you feeling all kinds of things. 
“Hey,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold?”
“A bit,” you respond.
He looks around and spots his dress shirt on the foot of the bed. He takes it and pulls away the blanket so he can make you wear it. He buttons it and fixes your hair, parting the damp strands and tucking them behind your ear. He helps you stand then you scurry towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
You don’t take long as you don’t want to make him wait, and when you open the door, you see him with his trousers back on, fixing the bed. On top of it are your folded dress and underwear. Between that and the shirt you’re wearing, something inside you stirs as you’re reminded again of how thoughtful Jungkook is. You like him for so many reasons, and now that you get to be with him like this, you’ll get to know him even more.
You don’t realize you’re staring at him as he moves about until he starts walking towards you. 
“I’ll get your clothes dry cleaned. Is that okay?”
You nod, giddy again and unable to speak. 
“I was also, uh, thinking. Do you want to spend the night with me? And maybe the one after, too?” He asks.
“I’d like that,” you smile. 
“Good,” he smiles back, kissing you deeply. “I was really hoping we get to do more of that.”
You laugh in response even if deep inside, you’re screaming in excitement. You’re still overwhelmed by all this, but you know that spending the evening and then waking up next to him will let you ease into this new life that you have. 
He laughs, too, when your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten anything since you left your mother’s house, and that was almost 12 hours ago.
“I actually don’t have anything in my fridge so let’s just order out.”
You nod, and shortly after, you find yourself sitting on the couch with him, your legs laying over his lap while his fingers caress your thigh. He’s got his arm around you and you sit there, just talking, while you wait for your dinner to arrive. 
You stay on the dining table when it does, and you remain there after you’ve both wiped out all the food. You both clean up, liking the domesticity that feels more real now, even more when he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. 
“I don’t have any makeup remover or anything like that,” he says from inside his bathroom. “Just cleanser. Is that okay?”
“Uh, yeah, that should be fine,” you say, following him inside. 
He places some skincare items on the counter and says that he’ll buy your brand this weekend. He grabs a towel and places it on the stool next to the shower before he turns to you. 
There’s a look of desire in your eyes, and though he’d initially thought that maybe you’d want to wash up on your own, the way you’re biting your lips makes him think that maybe you don’t.
He walks towards you and, with his fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt you have on, he looks at you in question as a way to seek permission. You nod, and it’s his confirmation. There’s something about you speaking to him with your eyes that has him nervous, but every approval you give stirs something in him. There’s your shyness but there’s also that desire to have him close.
He undoes the shirt, and though he’s already seen your bare body earlier, it still takes his breath away, as if it’s the first time he’s being graced with this, only because he’s been craving it for weeks.
Not much is said when he undresses after you, but you don’t really need words. Right as he turns on the warm shower, your lips are already on his. It’s sensual this time, as you both seem to want to savor this now that you have more time to spare. There’s still so much he wants to know and to feel, and he supposes there’ll be more days to learn all that. 
But then again, that could also be today, as you kneel on the floor and take his hardening dick in your mouth. You’re just as heavenly as he imagined, even more when you let him come on your chest and he’s dazed with how turned on you look. He finishes you off with you caged against the wall, your breasts in his mouth and his fingers inside your hole. It’s more languid kisses once you decide to actually take a shower, and going slow as you caress each other’s bodies is another feeling that he wants to keep having.
He gives you one of his shirts to wear before you both head to his bed. It’s past midnight and the day has started to catch up to him. He’s been tired since midday, and he would’ve crashed on his couch after finishing a bottle of whiskey if you hadn’t come. 
But you did, and the past few hours have been nothing short of amazing, as if it’s a dream he doesn’t believe is really happening. You lay next to his side, looking warm and comfortable with the softest smile on your face, a contrast to how you looked when you took him so deep in your mouth and moaned curses while you pulled on his hair as you came on his fingers. 
“What are you thinking about?” You ask him.
“A lot of things. Also nothing,” he says. “So much has happened today and I just… I just wanna sleep but I also want to stay awake with you a bit longer.”
“We’ll have more time together though,” you assure him. “We can talk about them tomorrow.”
He hums, knowing that his weekends from now on will no longer be boring like they used to be. 
“What about you, what are you thinking about?” 
“That your bed is so soft and your pillows smell so nice,” you respond, earning you a laugh. “Better than the one earlier. Although come to think of it, I didn’t even know you had a guest room.”
“It’s, well, uh… I wouldn’t really call it a guest room. I don’t really make people sleep there. Unless, they, uh, stay the night even if I told them not to.”
With his embarrassed face, the thought dawns on you. 
“You have a room specifically for your hookups?” You gasp. “You fucked me in your hookup room!”
You don’t seem angry but still, he supposes it doesn’t sound good when you say it like that.
“That… that was the closest room with something to lie on and I just wanted you so badly,” he explains, truly looking like he feels bad about it. “I only have that because I don’t let people in my room and well, you’re here now, aren’t you? I don’t like people being inside my space but you… I want you here. I’m sorry.”
He looks at you with apologetic eyes and you suddenly feel bad for reacting the way you did. It’s not a big deal. Maybe it isn’t ideal when you look back on it but then again, he fucked you so good, it doesn’t really matter. It also doesn’t matter where he does it. But maybe claiming other parts of his penthouse isn’t so bad.
“It’s okay, you made up for it,” you say, kissing his pouty lips to let him know it’s fine. 
There’s really nothing you can complain about, not when you’re next to him and feeling the safety and warmth of being by his side. There’s that comfort of being able to say and do what you want to, including expressing your desire without holding back anymore. That itself feels like freedom, and you get to live that out with him.
“We should probably skip that room for next time,” you add. “I mean, you have a nice bathtub and a spacious closet and a large couch and a wide dining table.., you have a study, a gym…” you smirk, something he does, too. “We have so many options.”
“We do,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you now. “We also have my bed, in case you forgot.”
“I was just about to say,” you giggle, sitting up and motioning for him to lie on his back. His smile is replaced with a lustful look once you start grinding against his clothed dick. “So, uhm, shall we?”
He grabs your hips and aids your movements, immediately feeling pleasure that he fortunately isn’t too tired to build on. He sits up and catches your lips in his. 
“I can do this all night,” he whispers.
And with languid kisses and curious hands mapping each other’s bodies, you feel the beginnings of learning what your heart could do. Right now, it’s racing, as it feels the desire to be one with him, to share in intimacy and vulnerability as you bare parts of yourself to him with no reservations. 
You know that starting today, there’ll be more that your heart will learn to do, like understand and forgive. One day, it will heal. And as it soars and finds a home in Jungkook’s arms, you know that one day, it will learn how to love, too.
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diordeer · 2 days
Text
౨ৎ NOBODY SEES ME LIKE YOU DO
“I wanna quit moving, I wanna quit running, I wanna relax and be tender. I wanna see us together again, rocking away in our walnut chairs” - japanese breakfast (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x stem!reader (some stardew valley references but just smile and nod)
authors note: slowly gaining motivation back… also using this to get ready for computer science paper two because paper one cooked me!!
requested by: anon
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yn.ln fighting for my life (and my nose) daily with this subject
View all comments.
user1 your such a strong soldier ❤️
↳ yn.ln i try… 😕
user2 us women in stem have to stick together!
↳ user3 we should make a little club
↳ yn.ln omg bet
user4 the meme at the end is TOO REAL
↳ yn.ln im just that relatable 🤷‍♀️
aryansimhadri hows ur sleep schedule considering ur exams coming up?
↳ yn.ln pls dont 😊 im actually tweaking
user5 NO BC WHY DO COMPUTER SCIENCE CLASSROOMS STINKNSO BAD
↳ yn.ln the reek of boys, im considering getting a nose plug
↳ user5 would be the best investment and i fully support
user6 GUYS should i take computer science
↳ user5 absolutely not
↳ user2 no
↳ user3 unless you have a death wish
↳ yn.ln worst decision of my life
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iamcharliebushnell she told me she was studying..
tagged yn.ln
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yn.ln atleast i have my priorities sorted
user1 STARDEW VALLEY!!
user2 who is yn marrying?
↳ iamcharliebushnell …me?
↳ yn.ln haley obviously
↳ user2 definitely not because of a certain edit?
↳ yn.ln DO NOT BRING UO GOOD LUCK BABE AND HALEY AROUND ME OMGG
↳ user3 poor charlie, hes clueless
↳ user4 ARE WE JUST IGNORING HOW HE SAID HE WOULD MARRY HER
dior.n.goodjohn im loving the matching fluffy socks
↳ yn.ln 🤭🤭🤭
↳ iamcharliebushnell the things i do
↳ yn.ln they are SOCKS HELLO?
user5 shes so real i put off computer science every time
↳ yn.ln why should i study when i have a farm to keep up with?
user6 … does anyone think this is kinda toxic? Like why is she lying to her bf
↳ user7 HELP ITS A JOKE?!
user8 i want to match socks with someone 😕😕
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yn.ln when you literally take computer science but your boyfriends still dorkier than you
tagged iamcharliebushnell
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iamcharliebushnell HELLO?!
user1 the second pic?! Sleeping on the highway tn
user2 awwhh the way he looks at her in the first pic
↳ user3 we all need a man like charlie
[liked by creator]
user4 omg how did i end up with a toaster in the bathtub!!! silly me!!!
user5 im actually combusting
walker.scobell im choosing to IGNORE that pic 😃 but charlies so nerdy its embarassing
↳ iamcharliebushnell what do u guys have against me?!
↳ yn.ln im so sorry walker
user6 yns so pretty omg
↳ user7 blessed with beautyyy and brainnsss
user8 how tf was that first taken photo i actually like i cant think
↳ iamcharliebushnell 🤫
user5 just noticed his hand on her thigh on the second pic and i literally like 😮‍💨😮‍💨
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle @xyzstar @urmomsgirlfriend1 @alexandria-millie
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likedovesinthewindd · 19 hours
Text
rendezvous; part five of sore loser ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 2
summary: when patrick asks to see you when he's back in town, you (spitefully) agree | content/warning: not a lot of art in this one :/, suggestive content | tags: @midwestprincesss
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In Stanford next week.
Can we meet?
You stared at the text messages, one hand hovering over the keypad in hesitance as the other continued brushing your teeth. You met your own gaze in the little mirror by your sink, deep in thought as you stared at your disheveled state. You freed your other hand, the toothbrush now dangling from the side of your mouth before typing out a reply.
I'd like that :) LMK when and where.
You sighed, turning your phone off and placing it on the sink's counter before continuing to brush your teeth.
Patrick had wasted no time messaging you since that night you accepted his request, and it hadn't taken much (any) convincing to get your number, the influx of messages quickly migrating to texts.
It had been a few weeks since you walked out on Art, and since then, you have gone back to ignoring and avoiding him at all costs. He didn't make it easy though, insisting on calling out your name whenever he caught a glimpse of you on campus and even going as far as once chasing you down until you had to hide away in the women's bathroom.
You had cooled down considerably since that afternoon. You'd go as far as to say that you weren't even really mad at him anymore, just not completely ready to face him yet.
So what if you and Patrick wouldn't be compatible? You'd prefer to figure that out on your own. It wouldn't hurt to try, either– it wasn't like you were looking for your soul mate.
Which was why the two of you were now sitting in a warmly lit diner just outside of town, way too close to each other in the corner booth for it to be just friendly as he watched you stir at the cup of tea infront of you.
"Does Art know you're in town?" you asked, clinking the spoon against the edge of the porcelain cup a few times. "Art's the reason I'm in town," he smiled, laughing at your faux shock. You placed your hand on your heart dramatically with an intake of breath.
"And I here I thought you came just for me," you laughed. "Well, you definitely sweetened the deal," he added, and you rolled your eyes, your wide smile deceiving you.
He watched the way your lips stretched in a grin behind your raised cup before you brought it to your mouth, your glossed lips leaving a sticky shiny residue behind. He watched as your perfectly manicured hands held the cup with caution, pretty French tips blending beautifully into the milky porcelain in your hand.
He watched as those same hands placed the cup down gently, one hand rising to your face as you wiped off some of the lipgloss that had smeared over your bottom lip. He followed that hand's movement until his eyes met yours, pretty smile still stuck on your face as you raised your eyebrows wordlessly.
"But, uh," he cleared his throat (and mind) before speaking up again. "I'm actually playing. That's why I'm in town." Your eyebrows raised further in interest at his words, a surprised hum leaving your mouth. "I've never watched you play," you said more to yourself. "No, please don't come," he said, "you'll throw me off my game. I won't be able to focus."
You laughed at that. "Are you calling me bad luck?" you asked with a smile. "I'm calling you distracting," he corrected you. You hummed, your eyes trailing down to your hands and catching sight of the time on your wristwatch.
"It's getting late," you stated with a sigh, looking around to find the diner almost empty. He looked down at his own watch, pursing his lips with a dissatisfied hum of agreement. "Yes, it is," he sighed before looking at you. "I don't want the night to end yet," he added.
"You never do," you laughed as you played with one of the rings on your fingers. "When are you playing?" you asked after a short pause. "Saturday," he answered.
"Are you gonna come watch?" he added shortly after. You scoffed. "Thought you didn't want me there?" you said, crossing your arms. "I changed my mind."
✰ ⊹ ˚.
You couldn't remember how things had led to Patrick being here, standing behind you as his mouth left soft kisses on your neck, as you struggled to get your door open. You thanked your lucky stars that your roommate was visiting her parents, making a mental note to buy her something extra special for her birthday this year.
The both of you sigh in relief when the door finally opens and you drag him inside by his hand, away from any possible prying eyes.
You were barely behind closed doors before his mouth was on yours again, hands softly rubbing your sides before gripping your hips as your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand slipping to the back of his head. The kiss was messy, his lips only leaving yours in favor of moving on to your neck, teeth nipping at the skin there before relieving the sting with his tongue.
Patrick's body ran like a furnace, and it felt like every part of you was being lit on fire by his touch. His hands moved down to grip two handfuls of your ass, crinkling the fabric of your dress and groaning against your neck when your one hand at his nape gripped the hair there in response.
"You smell so good," Patrick said, nose rubbing up against your neck like a cat before his mouth found the sweet spot behind your ear. You shuddered in his grasp, a shaky sigh leaving your lips.
Before you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling, though, you pulled away from Patrick completely, grinning at the pained look on his face. You wordlessly made your way to your bed, moving up to the headboard (and giving Patrick a pretty view of your butt, the dress flowing seamlessly with each movement) before you turned around, your back against the wood and a megawatt smile on your face.
Patrick reacted fast, quickly moving up the bed until he was basically on top of you, the old bedsprings protesting against his weight. You weren't complaining, though, pulling him closer once more, needing to feel his weight on top of you. The kiss was searing hot, laced with passion, and had you melting into the mattress, but before you could slip into that blissful headspace, there was an urgent knock on your door.
✰ ⊹ ˚.
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bbydoll18xx · 19 hours
Text
Spike Me, Baby, One More Time
Paige Bueckers x fem!volleyball player
Based on this request: Can I request like fem! Volleyball player reader x paige? Like Paige and the team getting so excited for the volleyball game and watching her star vball girlfriend play? And even like a post game party or just something cute and domestic!! Smut or not smut, idc!!! Thank you I love your writing!!!
Themes: some suggestiveness, fluff, proud!Paige
Word Count: 1.2k
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“Guys, hurry the fuck up. The game is starting soon,” Paige grits out impatiently. She is gesturing wildly toward the doors of the arena, where you were soon playing. Paige Bueckers generally did not care much about being early to things, but she did not want to miss a single second of watching you destroy your opponents. Your mild disposition was shattered on the volleyball court, making you absolutely ruthless. 
And Paige fucking loved it. 
She and several of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were coming to your game, and you were looking forward to seeing their obnoxious signs and hearing their loud hoots of support. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You had a family in Paige and her teammates, and just as you loved to support them, the feeling was mutual. 
As you step out onto the court, taking a deep breath to quell the nervous energy bubbling up inside your chest, you hear several people over the roar of the crowd. Craning your head toward the bellows, you see Paige, standing beside KK and Ice. They were jumping, waving their arms in a way that had bystanders rolling their eyes in annoyance. A grin emerges on your face, and all the pre-game anxiety vanishes. 
The game begins, and you’re locked in. Similarly to how you are with Paige, the world fades away into nothingness. Nothing else exists except you, the ball, and the overwhelming desire to win. 
A few times throughout the game, you lock eyes with Paige, feeling her encouragement, and the gratification hits you like a drug, fueling you through the end. The game ends with you spiking the ball ferociously, and the stadium erupts in deafening cheers as the ball slams against the floor. 
You yell out ecstatically, jumping into the arms of your teammates and spinning in the confetti that was falling. Life felt pretty fuckin’ good. 
Once you are changed out of your sweaty uniform, you leap out of the locker room, nearly running straight into Paige. 
“Stalker, much?” You tease, a giant smirk plastered on your face.
“Duh, I’m your biggest fan, baby,” Paige quips, and she was wearing an equally smug look.
“For real, though. Thank you guys for coming. Means a lot,” You beam, looking up between your blonde girlfriend and the two younger girls standing at her side. 
“Be for real. Like we would miss it!” KK declares solemnly, Ice nodding her head in agreement. 
“I think my roommates are throwing a celebratory party in our apartment. You guys down?” You ask, already knowing their answers. No one was going to turn down free alcohol and a chance to be a little crazy. 
~
Paige was fucking plastered. And you were loving it. So was every other person crammed into your apartment for the party. 
“Babyyy, give me a kiss. I love you so much,” Paige whines, smushing her lips up in a dramatic pout. You giggle, your cheeks pink between the alcohol and your girlfriend’s declarations of love. You peck her on the lips to appease her, but she pulls you in by the waist, anchoring your mouth to hers.
The alcohol in your veins, paired with the delicious taste of victory, created an irresistible desire to just let go. Climbing further onto Paige’s lap, you can feel the muscles of her thighs tense under you, and you let out a quiet moan into the slick heat of her mouth. No one hears it except for Paige, and it goes straight between her legs. 
“Whoa, y’all might wanna cool it on the PDA,” you hear over the blasting of the music. You pull away from Paige to see Ice standing over the two of you with a slightly repulsed expression covering her face. You’d think she would be used to the two of you by now, but you know she was only being protective. 
“Just proud of my girl,” Paige retorts, looking at you on her lap with a fond smile. A new wave of butterflies erupts in your belly, and you attempt to scooch closer into her. Ignoring everyone around you once more, including your own friends, you lean back into her and connect your lips again in a passionate embrace. 
You tug at her blonde locks, for once free from the confines of her usual updos and braids, and Paige lets out a groan at the sensation. Your head feels fuzzy from the lustful sounds, suddenly wanting all the people to leave so you could enjoy your girlfriend fully. 
“Wanna go back to yours?” You mumble in her ear, quickly starting to feel desperate. 
Paige pulls back, sighing with a regretful look on her face. “Course I do. But we should stay. I miss my old teammates, and you will, too.”
The honesty was surprising, but it made you realize that you had all the time in the world to kiss Paige.
“Fine,” you whine, somewhat childishly. “But as soon as all these people leave, I’m having my way with you.”
“Good,” Paige mutters. Her desire for you hadn’t waned, and she didn’t think it would. She could survive a few more hours of loud music and polite conversation before following you to your bedroom and fucking you into oblivion. 
And she did. Barely.
The rest of the evening, Paige watched you with such intensity. She was obsessed with every little thing about you. The way your nose scrunched when you laughed. The pink in your cheeks. And the way you licked your lips seductively in her direction after taking a drink from the cup in your hand. 
KK and Ice had left, and as the party began winding down, Paige grew more and more needy. While you were high off of the victory, she was high off of you. And it had been too long since her last hit. Showing an incredible amount of restraint, Paige hides behind her cup, watching you dance around in the center of the room. You make eye contact, from where she is sitting on the couch, and you don’t miss the ways her eyes darken. Her pupils are blown wide with lust, and her widespread legs are beckoning you to come take your rightful place in between them. 
You march over to her, plopping down on her lap once more, loudly stating that the party has ended. The last few stragglers, get the hint, and begin to move towards the door. With some help from your roommates/teammates, the apartment quickly clears out, leaving you with Paige and the soft pumping of whatever Drake song was seductively playing through the speakers. 
You gaze at her, lids heavy with desire, to see those blue eyes staring right back at you with equal intensity.
“Can you fuck me now, baby?” You whisper, your voice husky with want. 
Paige lets out a dark chuckle, and pulls you into her. “Only if you leave that jersey on for me.”
Your heart jumps into your throat. “Deal,” you affirm, pulling her towards your bedroom.
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a-b-riddle · 16 hours
Text
Out of the Shadows (1)
Dark Simon x Delusional Johnny x Kidnapped Reader
When he first saw you in the city, he nearly missed you. You would have been lost in the crowd if it hadn't been for the absolute look of defeat written on your beautiful face. It was as if any life you had within you had been sucked out.
He was on his way to Captain's when he spotted you. You were walking almost in a daze. Simply putting one foot in front of the other with nowhere to go. He had simply stood at the entrance of the metro station, watching you until you faded from you. Standing there several moments after, almost... enchanted? Bewitched?
All he knew was that he couldn't pull you from his mind. Not that night at Price's dinner with his new wife. Not when he laid next to Simon that same evening.
Or the next.
Or the next.
It wasn't until Simon practically forced Johnny to confess what had put him in such a sodden state that he had told Simon about you. That he couldn't shake you from his head. That he didn't know your name or even the sound of your voice and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about you.
And now you were just gone.
Simon made the suggestion in going back to the city to see if maybe he could spot you again. So he did.
Everyday.
For three months.
It had become an obsession to find you. He had almost given up. Assuming you were a traveler simply passing through. Simon had insisted that it was pointless. If Johnny hadn't found you buy now, searching almost every inch of the city, it would never happen.
But then there you were. Reappearing practically out of thin air. He had been driving through a part of London that was sort of well... the slums to put it mildly.
It was late in the evening. Too late for Johnny to be out and about in these parts and definitely too late for a pretty lass like you to be out so late. But even through the heavy downpour of rain and the slight fogginess of his windows he knew it was you.
You were practically sprinting, as if you were running from something.
Or someone
It wasn't until you went to a building and tried to shake the doors open did Johnny turn sharply on the side of the street to park his car. Whoever was after you, Johnny would be more than happy to handle them. It wasn't until you started banging on the steel security door shouting your name, claiming you were here did Johnny look up.
In off-white letters read West End Women's Shelter.
Johnny's heart sunk into his stomach. Had this been your situation the entire time he had spent looking for you? At a shelter?
Johnny got out of his car. The weather showing him no mercy as it began to soak his sweatshirt. "You alright!?" He had to practically shout over sound of the rain. You turned, jumping at his voice behind you.
"I'm fine!" You lied hoping your assurance would end the conversation and this stranger would just leave you alone. You weren't a stranger to strange men wanting to 'help' you.
"Saw you running and just wanted to make sure you were okay. No one chasin' ye?" You huffed but concealed your fear. Men fed off of it, like prey playing with their dinner.
"Nope!" You replied. "All good!" You crossed your arms over your chest. Too prideful to show you were freezing your ass off and just wanting him to leave so you could start weighing your options.
"You locked out?" He asked the one obvious question you couldn't bullshit. The doors weren't opening and you knew damn good and well they wouldn't until the morning.
No exceptions.
"Fuck," you hiss, low enough in hopes he didn't hear. "Yeah! Just missed curfew!" It's not until he starts making his way toward you, the engine of his car still purring do all of the danger synapses in your brain begin firing away.
"There's a hotel nearby." He said. "It's supposed to freeze over and the rain won't help ye. I could at least cover your room for the night." You looked at him. Where he expected to see relief, even joy, he found uncertainty.
If he wasn't a pervert you would say he's handsome. But even a handsome face and the threat of frostbite would convince you. You're homeless, but you hold on to what little dignity you still have.
You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't do that."
"It's fine." He assured, pulling out his wallet.
"Stop!" you hissed, looking up to make sure the red light of the camera was off. Of course it had been. It hadn't been fixed since you came here. You turned back to look at his confused expression. "Turning tricks will get me kicked out of here, okay?"
"Tricks?" He asked, confused before piecing it together and shaking his head. "I'm not looking for a night with ye, Bonnie." He explained. "Just don't want you turning to ice." You wish you could believe him. You wish that you could believe that there was still some honest to God goodness left in people and not just those who want something in return whether it be your body or a tax right off. "Besides, looks like yer already out."
He gestures to the doors behind you with a nod of his head, but you don't take your eyes off of him. "I missed lock out." You shrug nonchalantly, as if you were facing certain death if you slept on the sidewalk tonight. "They open up at 8 tomorrow and there's always the metro."
"Look," Johnny huffed, now soaked to the bone while you got sheltered underneath the door's archways.. "Get in the car and I'll at least take you there. The train station on this side of town isn't exactly a place a lass like you should be staying. I'll take you somewhere safer and leave you be. Alright?"
You look back to the closed doors behind you, weighing your options. You were warned about the freeze, but your job had ran later than normal. Your asshole boss cutting you off last. Your feet ached and you were in a skirt, sheer black panty hose with a donated puffer jacket covering the shirt provided by the pub.
Laundry day wasn't for another two days and it was your only jacket. It wouldn't be dry in time for your shift in the morning.
Fuckkkkkkkk.
Why you? Why was it always you?
"Just to the station." You said.
"Just to the station," he repeated.
"And you're not getting anything in return, you know?" You wanted him to know. You weren't looking for a handout, but if he would help you he wasn't going to get anything more than a verbal 'thank you.'
"Don't expect to." He shook his head. "Come on before ye' get sick standing here in nothing but your stockings and a jaiket."
He makes his way over, opening the passenger door, waiting for you to follow.
You take a moment. You're options are limited. The decision a clear one.
You run from your covered sanctuary into the blistering cold rain. He just waits until you're entirely inside the car before shutting the door.
The car was warm and smelled... nice.
It didn't smell stale at all. It seemed like that's all that was around you. The smell of stale piss just outside the pub and stale beer inside of it. The poor circulation of the shelter didn't offer any sort of fresh air and not everyone there took advantage of the hot showers.
But it smelled clean and fresh. Nothing particularly note worth like minty or masculine, or musky. Just like a clean, well taken care of car.
"Name's Johnny by the way." He introduced, not taking his eyes off the road. You gave yours in return. It was only polite. He repeated your name, liking a little too much how it sounded falling from his lips. "Fitting. Bonnie name for a bonnie lass." He didn't turn and give you a cheeky wink. He kept his eyes straight ahead, trying to see through the rapid swiping of the wipers and the rain.
The two of you sat in silence even though he ached to ask you a million questions. He wanted more than just your name.
Where were you from? How did you end up in the shelter? Had you always been in this situation? Were you safe? Is that why you were so sad that day that day he saw you?
"Everyone seems to be out leaving the match." He said instead, noticing the influx of traffic that had began to build.
"Match?" You asked.
"Aye." He said. "Some football match."
"Oh." You said. "Right." You had wanted to work that night in hopes of making a decent tip or two, but the curfew was strict at the shelter so you opted out.
And still got locked out.
"Might as well make yourself comfy." He sighed, leaning back against his seat. "Looks like we'll be a minute."
The warm air incased you fully now. Having warmed up the numbness in your poor toes. If it wouldn't have been seen as rude, you would have taken off your kitten heels and given your feet some relief.
The car's seats were more comfortable than the cot at the shelter. Add that with your exhaustion from an almost twelve hour shift from serving breakfast to finishing the dinner rush, it was starting to become a fight to stay awake.
But you could spare a few seconds of closing your eyes.
There were cars lined up. People, now, all around you. If you felt him try anything funny you would know. It was okay just to rest your eyes for a moment or two.
So you did.
You let the soft hum of the car drown out the noise of outside as the pitter patter of rain lull you to sleep. Your breathing deepened.
It wasn't until Johnny saw in the window's reflection that your eyes had closed that you hadn't turned away to avoid conversation.
You had fallen asleep.
In his car.
It was a no brainer for him that he wouldn't take you to a fucking metro station to sleep. He planned to just take you to a hotel, put a wad of cash in your hand and tell you he meant it. He wasn't looking for a whore. He just wanted to help you.
Or...
Or he could do it.
He could do what Simon had given him the green light to do two months ago when his obsession in finding you had peaked the Lieutenant's interest. It wasn't every day Johnny had fancied a lass longer than a passing glance. He was the type who rarely remembered names.
So when Simon had suggested bringing you home, Johnny thought he was just pulling his leg. Simon couldn't have been seriously considering... sharing? The two of them were together. More than just brothers in arms. It was a thought, once upon a time about adding a more feminine energy to the relationship, but Johnny didn't like any of them enough to have them stick around and Simon didn't like anyone except for Johnny.
But now, it was different.
This was you. The girl who had plagued his thoughts, his dreams for months. The girl he had lost sleep over. The girl who he had thought he would never going to see again.
But now you were here.
Now.
If he was going to do it, he had to do it now.
No turning back.
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aaronsinferno · 24 hours
Text
Ryan is fighting tooth and nail to get them to understand that Eddie is, always has been, and always will be straight. From repeatedly calling Eddie a heterosexual male to stating how important it is for the show to display the relationship between a heterosexual guy and his queer best friend or brother.
Yet, it all gets overlooked and shot down by those online who swear they’re in it for the representation and storytelling. The same people who disregarded every other queer character on the show and who are actively targeting the current one.
Buddie isn’t happening. Not in the context they want it to anyway. Eddie is straight. It doesn’t matter what the writers thought of doing or considered in some room one day a few years ago. Eddie Diaz is a heterosexual man and that most likely won’t change. I don’t even think Ryan wants to play a queer character.
Buck is bisexual. Regardless if Tommy sticks around or not (I personally hope he stays) or if Buck decides to date women from now until the series ends, he’s still bisexual.
What those disgruntled shippers are doing to BuckTommy is nothing new. They think that harassing and attacking LI’s is what gets them removed from the show. They pride themselves because of it.
But what they’re doing to Lou is being done out of pure and genuine intimidation. They know that there’s potential and know that there’s a chance Tim might want him to stick around and they hate it. That’s why the hate aimed at him is so loud and strong. They don’t want him gone, they need him gone to fit whatever narrative they’ll collectively decide will apply to buddie after the fact.
And if you think I’m making any of this up, just search Lou’s name on twitter. Click on their pages and scroll. They don’t shy away from it or feel ashamed in any way. They’re poison
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honeipie · 15 hours
Text
THE MOMENT
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izuku x fem!reader
synopsis: izuku is asked the exact moment that he fell in love with his wife, and he knows exactly when
authors note: why do i keep writing about podcasts all of a sudden lmaoooo 😭 also i proofread this when i was tired asf so if it’s bad sorryyyy
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“it’s really nice to have you here mr. midoryia! thank you for agreeing to join us on our podcast. we know how busy you are saving the country, so it’s nice to see you in a different light” the man flashed him a smile, which izuku was happy to return.
“yeah of course! i figured i should see why everyone is telling me that this podcast is so great” izuku crossed one of his legs over the other. his pr team thought it’d be a good idea to branch out from the regular news interviews and talk shows, so they had scheduled him a podcast episode on the number one podcast in japan.
“so having the number one hero with us is of course a prime opportunity to pick your brain. all about your hero work, who your role models were throughout the years, and maybe let us look behind the big deku label and just let us get to know midoryia izuku if you allow”
izuku nodded with his picture perfect smile “i’d like that. most people don’t respect that i’m an actual person and not just some figure with no feelings, so i really appreciate that”
the host nodded looking down at his phone “so first we wanted to give you a big congratulations! you are your wife are celebrating your second year of marriage. that must be nice”
“yes we did! thank you from both of us really. i took some time off and we had a really, really nice vacation together. it was nice to be away from all the eyes for a while”
“of course! i know it can probably get hard with all the fans that you have. everybody wanting an autograph, kids lining up to meet you, both women and men alike wanting a chance with you even though you’re clearly married. how do you deal with that in your relationship?”
“a lot of communication, like, a lot” izuku nodded his head slowly just to make his point “we set boundaries to make sure we’re comfortable with everything that happens. like one thing she’s not very comfortable with is fans kissing me on the cheek, and i totally respect that! the first time it happened we did have a bit of falling out but we communicated and got through it”
the host nodded his head listening along “he’s not just good at saving the world folks! he’s also a relationship pro”
this made both of them laugh easing away any underlying tensions that were there before.
“staying on the topic of your relationship we have a question. every week we ask people what questions to ask to our guests when they come onto the show, and the most asked question was this. what was the exact moment that you fell in love with your wife? i mean she must’ve done something to make you look at her the way you do”
“hearty question,” he joked rubbing his hand against his chin “but i’m pretty sure i know when. it was back in UA, third year. it was our last big event before we graduated and i was struggling to get ready”
he could imagine it like it happened yesterday. third year izuku midoryia stood looking at himself in the mirror with an annoyed look on his face. it had been three years and he still hadn’t learned how to tie his damned tie. the lump of a tie sat dead center on his chest staring right back at him, taunting him.
it’s not like he didn’t try to learn. he had kacchan try to teach him. that didn’t end well. he had his mom try too, and he ended up getting his hands tangled. and youtube? forget it.
he silently cursed to himself taking off the tie once more. there were three soft knocked at his door, which at this point, annoyed him further.
“kacchan i said i’d be right out! could you at least wait five minutes before coming back?”
“izuku? it’s me” your voice alone made his shoulders ease. he came over to the door shaking his head.
“i’m sorry y/n. i thought you were kacchan-“ when he finally got a good look at you all of his words caught in his throat. you were wearing a sage green dress that went down to your ankles. he wasn’t complaining though because on the left there was a slit where he got a good view of your legs “but you are definitely not him”
you walked past izuku white heels clicking against the floor “i sure hope not. i don’t think he can pull of this dress like i can” izuku shut the door softly then made a beeline over to you. as soon as you turned around you noticed he was leaning down to kiss you “woah there pretty boy,” you held up a single finger blocking his lips “attitude check first, kisses later. what’s the matter?”
he sighed when you rejected his advances “i don’t have an attitude-“
he stopped when you made your ‘don’t lie to me face’
“fine,” he stood in the mirror and watched as you stood next to him. you looked stunning. the way you wore the dress like it was perfectly crafted for you had him staring long and hard. it made him feel like a doofus beside you with his slightly messy hair and chunky tie.
“i can’t get my tie right”
you snorted turning him towards you “you’re acting like that’s new news” he rolled his eyes at your comment pulling away from your hands “no! baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean it” your hands gently grabbed his wrists pulling him back “i’ll do it for you”
his eyebrows scrunched together as you started slipping off his tie “you know how to tie ties? how? why? when?”
you couldn’t help but laugh at his confused state going to wrap the tie around his neck again straightening it out “my grandma taught me. she said that i need to learn if it i ever find that special man in my life. i didn’t really believe her because who the hell would i be tying a tie for?”
he watched carefully as you flipped the tie around with ease. folding it this way, then slipping it through one of the openings. he also watched your face. concentrated on the task at hand. his heart was racing by the time you slide the perfect knot up to his neck. tilting your head you nodded.
“but i’m glad she did y’know,” you grabbed the middle of his tie pulling him in for a kiss. he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and the other hand went securely on your back. when you pulled away there was a stupid grin on your face “cause there’s no one else i would want to do this for”
it was like he was getting hit by a truck of nostalgia. all the feelings he felt in that moment came rushing back to him. the swoop of his stomach when you pulled him into the kiss. the alarms blaring in his head from the new sensation.
he. was. in. love.
the kind of love people look for in movies, books, shows. he found that in you.
he sighed into the kiss going to move you against the wall. you had your hands on his waist trying to steady yourself. when he pulled away your face was flushed from his sudden actions. which he made sure not to mention in the podcast.
“well maybe i should do your ties more often”
“yeah.. you should”
izuku snapped out of the memory finally placing himself back into reality “that’s how i remember it. i don’t know if my wife remembers differently” he shrugged with a smile on his face.
“wow, that is straight out of a romance book. so does she still tie your ties today?”
izuku nodded “oh yeah, i don’t trust anyone else to do it. even on our wedding day i forced her to tie it. she was all worried about me seeing her before the wedding so i covered my eyes”
you stood there in your white dress trying not to laugh at your 6 foot husband covering his face like a child playing hide and seek “you really want me to do this?”
“please honey”
“only since you asked so nicely, but no peeking!” walking over you went to put his tie on like you did every other time. when you finished you gave his chest a pat “there you go champ”
“y/n.. you didn’t give me a kiss”
“what?”
he let out a childlike sigh “every time you do my tie you pull me in for a kiss. that’s how this works”
now you laughed.
“izu we can’t kiss before we have the wedding. it’s not the way it goes”
“i won’t tell anyone!”
after a couple moments of silence he could feel a tug on his tie as you drew him close. it was a quick kiss, but just enough to get him through.
the host nodded along a bit jealous that his love life wasn't as magical.
"if only we could all be like you and your wife deku”
“i get that a lot. my wife’s pretty great”
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taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾
comment if you’d like to be added
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wonwoosthetic · 2 days
Note
Hi! So I have a newer idea for Daryl that popped up in my mind while shopping today. It's 100% okay if you don't want to write this, though! It is kind of long so I completely understand if you don't feel like writing this 💜
Basically, Daryl meets reader, aka Shane's fiancé, at the quarry and could instantly notice how toxic Shane was to her. She wasn't allowed to really talk to any of the guys in the camp and was forced to do most of the laundry to keep her from interacting with the rest of the group. However, one day while Shane's off doing you-know-what with Lori, Dale sends reader to go hunt with Daryl with a compound bow that he'd found. To Daryl's surprise, she's amazing at hunting and they have a little convo about Shane. They then stumble across Shane and Lori going at it like rabbits but silently retreat, not making a scene. Back at the camp, when Shane returns, reader simply just places the ring back in his hand and tells him they're over. Being free to do what she wants, she starts getting closer with Daryl over the next month or so, and when they get to the CDC, her and Daryl have this cute moment with a few people watching them and then Glenn, in his drunken stupor, makes a comment about what a cute couple they are. Cue the sudden realizations from both sides that they like each other. Can end with a confession or not. <33
a/n – first of all, to everyone who reads this: you better check Krys out! I am absolutely IN LOVE with everything she writes (Daryl and Hazel is my favourite but literally everything is a masterpiece!) second: to get a request from one of my favourite authors on this app here is an ABSOLUTE HONOUR and I truly truly hope that I could somehow reach your expectations!!!! Thank you so much for sending me it, and I really hope you and everyone that reads this enjoys it ˙ᵕ˙ thank you for marking my start in writing for Daryl now too!😊
A little side note: surprise, I still can’t write short stuff, but bc tumblr is a bitch and is messing with long stuff I post, I decided to make 2 parts, so I can truly involve everything I planned, I hope that’s okay!!🤍🤍
masterlist
word count – 7.4k
pairing – daryl dixon x fem!reader, shane walsh x ex!fem!reader (rarely)
warnings – cursing, mentions of sex, infidelity, toxic man
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Don‘t Talk To Strangers Or You Might Fall In Love – Pt. 1
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Later in the evening, the women gathered down at the quarry once again. With each holding onto a basket of some sort, carrying the laundry of the rest of the camp residents, they had found their usual spot by the water. Their hands were already starting to get wrinkly by the amount of clothes they had to wash - it had only been a couple of days, and there was already a pile of it.
A wince from the oldest woman of the group made all three heads snap towards her, their eye following her carefully.
"Everything okay?" Jacqui asked, stopping mid-movement before she set down the soaked t-shirt she was holding.
Carol was quick to brush off her concerned tone, sending the woman a quick tight smile as she re-adjusted her position on the ground.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she cleared her throat. "Just... a stone."
The other women shared a quick knowing look. Yes, the surface they were sitting on was mostly stone, but not enough to get hurt or even wince the way Carol just did. She must've hit one of her bruises against the hard ground. One of the many that decorated her skin. While some of them she had clearly been able to hide underneath her clothing, the women couldn't help but notice the ones on her arms. And while some seem to fade, it didn't take much longer for new ones to appear just a day later.
"You know," Amy jumped into the conversation. "You... you don't have to share a tent with him." Everybody immediately knowing, who she meant. "You could stay in the RV, or-"
"I'm okay, Amy. Please." Carol's tone made the younger woman stop again, going right back to the task at hand. While you had hoped you'd go back to finish off your work in silence, Jaqui had other plans as she raised the volume of her voice to reach you, who was sitting a little further off.
"Well, speaking of shitty husbands." Getting a scoff out of the older woman. "Where's Shane, Y/N?" A chuckle erupted from Amy. 
"Huh?" Your head shot up at the mention of his name. You found three awaiting pairs of eyes fixed on you, sending an uncomfortable rush down your spine.
"Where's your husband?" Amy repeated the question, her voice holding a slightly more gentle tone.
"He's not my husband. Just... fiancé." You shrugged. "I don't know...," mumbling as you were almost too embarrassed to admit. "He said something about going hunting."
Jacqui let out an annoyed huff of air. "That was hours ago. It's getting dark soon, doesn't he think-"
"I trust him to know how to keep himself safe. He knows what he's doing," you told her mindlessly, pouring the now dirty water back into the river in front of you. 
You knew how most of the group felt about Shane. He had declared himself as the leader of your little group, thinking his status as a sheriff made him the right fit despite some of the eye-rolls and annoyed sighs it had gotten from the rest in return. It didn't seem to bother him, not even a little bit. You had tried to defend him, wanting to explain his plan of action and knowledge to the others, but he had shushed you down quickly. His own stance was enough for him to stand in front of the group of people, promising to lead them well and try to figure out how to move forward in the, what you'd now call, apocalypse.
While he was securing his place as the tough leader, commanding each person around and giving them a set role in the group, you had tried to find a sense of community. If you were to go and travel further with these people, might as well try to create some form of comradery. But that was brought to a halt before you could even truly start. By Shane.
'They're not your friends. They're just random people. We don't know them and we don't gotta know them.' He had told you. You had tried to start an argument, wanting to explain that while you didn't know most of them just yet, you might as well start now if you're going to spend more time in an enclosed area with them. 
'Let's keep an eye out for Lori and Carl. She just lost her husband, for God's sake.' He never really explained just how he knew that Rick was officially dead, but the two members of the Grimes family seemed to be his only concern. The fact that you had known Glenn for a while now and considered him a close friend, almost a younger brother, didn't even register with him. He was just 'another dirty man, just like the rest of them' to Shane. He had made his opinion of the members of your group very clear. They're strangers. If it wasn't about Lori and Carl, it wasn't important. Why you were the one washing their clothes though was still beyond you though.
Jacqui was just about to open her mouth again, not wanting to drop the topic of conversation just yet, but a loud voice from up the quarry got your attention.
"Ya just don't give a shit, ya old bastard!" Daryl's uncanny accent echoed through the open area.
While a deep sigh tumbled from Carol's lips, Amy tried to ignore the fight a few feet away from you and Jacqui shook her head.
"These Dixon brothers, I swear to God... I don't understand why we haven't made them leave yet."
"Daryl's a good hunter," Amy commented quietly with a slight shrug.
"Yeah, and selfish," the older woman spat back, "And Merle? He's nothing but dragging everyone here down."
You decided to leave the scene in silence, not wanting to add anything to the conversation. You believed that everyone had a good reason for acting and behaving the way they were. You'd like to think that your good nature was part of the reason why Shane fell in love with you. Your years of dealing with children coming from troubled families had taught you that there's mostly good in almost everyone, just that most hadn't had the chance to find that side of them yet. In some ways, the Dixon brothers' attitudes reminded you of them. 
Back in the camp, you brought the washing bowl back to where the rest of the clean laundry was already hanging to dry. Before you could go any further, hoping to find some alone time in your tent, Dale's voice made you stop.
"Y/N!"
You looked up at the top of his RV, where he had secured a chair, a small table and an umbrella to keep the sun from frying his skin.
"Hey, Dale," you smiled at the older man, who copied your facial expression. While some had come to find him to be a 'typical grumpy old man' - and by some you mean Shane - you and Dale had gotten closer over the short time you had spent in the group. He reminded you of your dad, who at that point in time was God knows where. You hoped he found a group similar to yours and was trying to find his place in the world you would now be living in.
"You know how to use a bow and arrow, right?" He asked you, remembering the story you had told him.
You nodded, shielding your eyes with one hand as the sun was starting to make them hurt. "My dad taught me a little, why?"
"Look what I found," he grinned before turning around to pick something up. He crouched down, now with a compound bow in his grip as he tried to get it down to you. With quick steps, you got closer, your eyes brightening up at the sight.
"Oh my god... Dale!" Your smile only widened once you got your hands on the bow. You let your hand glide over the metal, finding it to be heavier than expected. It was still in perfect condition, but you couldn't even finish admiring it before your eyes found another item being dropped down at you.
"Those were next to it," Dale added as he handed you a bag holding multiple arrows that were hopefully supposed to go with the bow. He watched your smile as you couldn't take your eyes off the archery tool. "You think you know how to handle that thing?"
"I mean... my dad taught me how to use a longbow, but... can't be that hard, right?"
The older man couldn't even answer you as a scoff erupted from behind you, followed by the familiar scruff voice of Darly.
"Ya think it's that easy." Stating it more than wondering. Knowing not to start a conversation with him unless truly needed, only able to imagine how Shane would react if he found you talking to him, you decided to ignore his comment, focusing back on Dale who seemed to have done the same.
"Where did you find it?" You asked him.
"Oh just... from a house a few minutes away. Thought you could use it."
"I don't know when yet, but... I'll try," you smiled at him.
"How about you go and try it out now?" He suddenly asked you.
His question made your head shoot back up to look at him in wonder. "Now? What do you mean?"
He sighed. "It's gonna get dark soon and Shane and Lori aren't back yet, we should try-"
"Lori?" Her name fell from your lips as you glanced around the area, only finding the youngest Grimes sitting in the grass, entertaining himself with some sticks and stones. "Where is she?"
Dale shrugged. "Said something about finding berries and whatnot-" Another scoff from behind you made him stop to shoot Daryl an annoyed glance. "I think we should try to at least get something to eat for the kids. And if they're not back anytime soon, they won't have dinner."
"What? My huntin' skills ain't enough for you, old man?" The younger Dixon brother shot up from his crouched position on the floor, nudging his head up at Dale, who was clearly annoyed by his attitude.
"A squirrel isn't gonna feed an entire group. Take Y/N with you and try finding something."
"Dale-"
"Shane's not here, honey," he immediately stopped you, apparently already knowing what your argument would be. "I think he'll be okay, knowing you were out finding something to eat for the kids."
"That asshole would rather watch 'em kids die than send her huntin' with any of us!" Daryl spat back, ignoring you standing right next to him.
He turned your head towards him. "Don't talk about him like that." Speaking to him in a much softer tone than he just did, only getting a shake of his head and an annoyed mumble in return before he turned his back towards you, making his way towards the woods. A quick glance back up at Dale made him nudge his head towards the direction the archer had just disappeared into. You could either get sulky and refuse to go with the man who had clearly other interests than to go hunting with you or you could be the bigger person and focus on bringing something into the community. Even if that meant rebelling against your partner's order to stay at the camp and focusing on the laundry in the quarry. You decided on the latter, knowing that he'd find something to get annoyed at one way or another.
With a sigh, you nodded to Dale's proposal and swung the bag of arrows over your shoulder. Turning around to follow the way Daryl had just strutted, your eyes found his silhouette already between the trees. It was uncanny. Anyone could tell it was him. His zero-fucks attitude and his arms just casually hanging by his side- The pop of his hips with each step he took just underlined the sass that man possessed almost making you chuckle.
Unlike a lot of the other members of the group, you didn't necessarily dislike him. His brother was a totally different subject. They were difficult to deal with and most definitely not the teamwork type of personalities - not directly at least. You had noticed the multiple times Daryl would vanish from sight, only to come back a few hours later with a few dead squirrely thrown over his shoulder, that he would then give to the group after skinning them. It was absolutely disgusting, to say the least, but he did his part to be a valuable part of the community, even if he might had been a unique character and more challenging to deal with. 
What Merle's issue was, you had yet to discover, but the man didn't intrigue you enough to bore into his background story.
A good few minutes in, you still hadn't caught up with the archer, his steps being way bigger and faster than yours. Panting, you hoped he would hear you.
"Can you slow down for a second? Please."
Not following your words, Daryl kept up his pace, only turning his head slightly. "Don't need yer husband to see us together out'ere or we'll be the ones rotatin' over the fire instead of a dear."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, even scoffing loudly at what you had just heard, and mumbling too quietly for him to hear.
Your reaction made him suddenly stop in his tracks and turn his entire body towards you. "What? Ya think I'm kiddin'? I seen the way he talks to ya and everyone else in that godforsaken camp. Treats everyone like shit if it ain' abou' that woman or the kid."
Your glare didn't even intimidate him a bit. Neither did he budge when you took a daring step closer to him.
"How about you focus on yourself and stay out of other people's business? He's trying to be a leader, alright?"
"More like tryna be a dictator. Mussolini woulda loved him." Without another word, he turned around to continue his way further into the woods, leaving you in slight surprise rooted into the ground. A shake of your head and a deep breath brought you back into the present, making you follow him again. You tried to keep the distance between big enough to keep him away from you, let close enough to still have him in view - you sure as hell weren't going to get lost in the middle of the woods.
Looking down to be careful about each step you took, you held onto the strap across your chest. With your view on the ground, you didn't notice Daryl having stopped again, making you suddenly bump into him.
"Oh- sorry." You took a quick jump back.
He had lifted up his arm to the side, keeping you from going any further. Only after looking up, you could follow his gaze, finding what had gotten the archer so enthralled. Between the bushes surrounding you ahead on a tree, there were two chipmunks perked up on a branch. They hadn't noticed you yet and if it hadn't been for Daryl's eagle eye, you had to admit, you would've overlooked them as well.
Suddenly, overly confident, you realised this was the moment you could prove your skill. A skill you hadn't trained for in a few months, but you had long enough training before that, you believed. Swiftly, you grabbed a bow from the bag on your back and took a slow step back, careful not to make any loud noise to disrupt the two animals. Daryl had his crossbow already sitting on his shoulder, his eye trained on the chipmunks as he kept totally still.
"On three," you whispered as you drew the bow in your grip. You couldn't see the archer's slight confusion as he didn't budge, only knowing he had heard you when he suddenly started counting down. As soon as the number 'three' left his lips, you let your arrow shoot through the sky, him going at the exact same time, pressing the trigger on his crossbow. The two bows hit the chipmunks perfectly in sync, making them fall from the branch and onto the floor.
"Yes!" You whispered to yourself in a cheer, brushing past Daryl with a wide smile on your face as you made your way over to where your prey was waiting for you.
The man continued to stand still, only his eyes following your movements as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Only a few seconds later, he found you standing up straight again, proudly holding up one of the chipmunks. He followed your steps, coming to a stop as he looked down at the other animal still on the floor.
"Was that beginner's luck or...?" He asked you as he gathered it off the ground and took out his arrow before taking its companion out of your hands to put both of them into the small bag he had secured by his hips. Your eyes drifted to his arms. Glistening in the sun behind you. He had been collecting dirt all over his body, but the sweat now on his biceps was making it look only half as bad.
You shrugged, not even trying to hide the small smile still on your lips. "Maybe a little since I haven't used one of these in a while," holding up the compound bow.
"Who taught ya?" In surprise, you glanced at him, not expecting to continue the conversation as you went back to resume your hunting journey through the woods.
"My dad."
You noticed his steps suddenly slowing down again, making you turn towards him in wonder. A finger brought up to his lips told you everything you needed to know. Daryl started looking around carefully, while you just turned in a circle, wondering what he had heard. And then you saw it. A 'geek', as Glenn had labelled them, was making its way towards you.
"How on earth did you hear that?" You whispered at him, but the archer just propped his crossbow up again, ready to take out the thing coming dangerously close towards you. The noises coming from the dead had only then started to register with you too. Maybe it was your hearing turning on you or maybe Daryl had just a trained ear. Realising that he was close to shooting again, you stopped him with a hand.
"Can I?"
With a careful look, he lowered his weapon again, motioning for you to go ahead, bringing a small grin to your face. His hand was quicker than yours as he pulled out a bow from your bag, handing it over to you before leaving you to do your thing. Drawing it tightly, you didn't let a lot more seconds pass before sending the arrow straight through the geek's eye.
"Fuck, yeah-" Grinning to yourself for a split second before you realised the words that had dropped from your tongue. "Sorry," you were quick to apologise, getting a look of pure confusion from Daryl in return.
"What? Ya not allowed to curse or somethin'?" Oh, if he only knew. After years of being with Shane, you had found yourself truly swearing off the usage of any curse words as your fiancé had labelled them 'unladylike', sending you a look of disapproval each time it would escape you accidentally. Strict looks had turned into warnings, which then turned into arguments, so you had just learned to bite your tongue.
You were about to head up to get it back, back Daryl's voice stopped you.
"Stay'ere." He walked past you towards the now truly dead thing to get your arrow back. After ripping it out of its head again, he took a good look around, turning his entire body before coming back to you.
"They're usually not alone," he pushed the arrow into your hands. "Let's see what else we can find and get the hell outta 'ere before it gets dark."
You just nodded in agreement before following him again. This time, you noticed walking side by side with him as he had slowed down his strides.
To you, it seemed like a relatively comfortable silence, but Daryl didn't agree with that apparently as his grunt slashed through it,
"Yer husband know you can hunt?"
A sigh evidently fell from your lips, but you were able to hold back a roll of your eyes. He was trying to keep up the conversation and you couldn't not admit that you quite enjoyed not necessarily having to walk in complete silence. Even if it meant talking about Shane apparently.
"Don't know," you shrugged.
"What d'ya mean, ya don't know? Yer never talked about that? Ain't he supposed to know ya inside out or some shit like that?" You knew, deep down his words held nothing but truth, yet, you had learned to ignore remarks like that, knowing that Shane was just a different kind of partner than most.
"Why should he know about something he's not interested in?" As long as you weren't out on your own and at home in the evening with a homecooked meal waiting for him, he had never truly cared about what you did. Lying, you'd be out with your friends for a few hours while doing something completely different had gotten you far. Him working late hours most days only helped. You never even thought about telling him about the childhood hobby you had started at 8 years old and had carried with you up until well into adulthood. While you had left home as soon as you had turned 18, knowing Atlanta was the place you'd want to study in, archery was one of the things that had kept you connected to home. To your dad.
"That don't sound righ' if ya ask me," he commented.
"Well," you couldn't help but sigh again, "good thing he's not your issue to worry about."
"But he is." His comment made you stop. Daryl was quick to notice you not walking beside him anymore, making him stop and turn. "I gotta worry about him havin' my balls on a stick if he sees me talkin' to ya."
"Then don't!"
"Then why d'ya follow me into the woods, huh?" It looked like you were about to start a fight with Daryl Dixon.
"Because Dale asked me to. Because no one trusts you to do anything good for the group on your own," you spat at him, continuing your way, making sure to bump his shoulder as you passed him.
The archer scoffed, "Yeah because everyone trusts ya lil' husband oh so much to care for every-"
You came to another halt. "He's not my husband! We're engaged, you ignorant fuck!"
"Oh, careful," Daryl eyed you, "What would'e say if he heard ya talkin' like that, huh?" Sending you a provocative look that made you take a deep breath in, trying to contain your anger.
"I think you got a brother to worry about, Dixon. Enough drama there, don't snoop into other people's lives."
That seemed to have done the job as he kept quiet while you walked ahead. It took a few seconds before you heard him behind you again, proud of yourself for leaving him stunned even if it was just for a short moment. You didn't want to snap at him like that, you had to admit. It just came out and if you could take it back, you would've. He wasn't directly snooping, you knew that. You weren't here to make enemies, at least you didn't want to. You desperately wanted to get along with everyone as best as possible. Not meaning that you'd have to become close friends with each person in the group, just good colleagues.
With your mind deep in thought, overthinking every word you had just dropped, you didn't notice the ruffling leaves close by. Not until you felt a tug on your arm that made you stop. Almost annoyed, you turned around, only to find Daryl lifting his finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. At first, you looked at him in confusion but the moment you heard a grunt, your ears perked up as you started to glance around. You had just ran into a geek with the Dixon brother reminding you that they usually travelled in bigger groups, meaning the possibility of another one being close by wasn't that small.
The grunting continued making your frown only deepen. It didn't necessarily sound like one of the dead, you realised. Daryl started moving around slowly and as quietly as possible, you following close behind, keeping ducked down just in case.
Suddenly, you caught another noise. One that sounded less like a grunt and more like a... moan? Clearly just as confused as you, the archer turned around to meet your gaze for a split second. 
With each step the two of you took further, the noises became much clearer. Shuffling leaves, grunts, and clear moans were now hitting your ear. One specific huff of air made a cold shiver run down your spine. It's like your body knew before your eyes could even see it.
Daryl and you hit a raised ground that kept you from seeing where the noise was coming from as you were still crouched down. But as soon as you let your back straighten, every last bit of air left your lungs. You saw the auburn hair spread out on the grass first. Directly next to it, an all too familiar head of black curls, the face deep in her neck, muting the moans coming from him. With each pound, they became heavier and louder. You already knew it. Right as Shane lifted his head though, you could feel yourself wanting to scream. And if it wasn't for the hand suddenly covering your mouth, you would've.
You were pulled onto the ground, back into your crouched position, and dragged back from where you came from. As hard as you tried to fight the grip the archer had on you, it was no use as he was clearly much stronger than you. The leaves and branches brushed against your pants as he kept tugging on you to keep you right up against him, not daring to loosen the hand covering your lip
Once it seemed far away enough for him, Daryl let go of you, letting you fall to the ground completely as you desperately choked up for air.
"You bastard-" You went at him, only for him to cover your mouth once again.
He pulled you in hard. "Ya screamin' 'ere and an entire hoard will hear ya. Keep quiet," he hissed at you in a whisper. You never noticed the soft specks of green that decorated his striking blue eyes. Not until then.
A quick moment of silence followed as your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Daryl's gaze softened immediately, removing his hand from you as if your skin had turned into burning hot metal.
While you had started to sob in the middle of the woods, trying to keep as quiet as possible, the archer didn't know what else to do, but to stand next to you, his eyes fixed on your shaking shoulders. He wasn't the right person to console someone. Nor did he even know how.
"I told ya he's an asshole," he mumbled, clearly not at the right moment as you sent him an angry frown.
"You didn't tell me sh-"
"I tried tellin' ya!" Raising his voice just a bit to turn his tone stern, yet keeping the volume low enough. "I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son."
"I want to go back," you sniffled, feeling your chest painfully tightening.
"Go back to 'em?!"
"Back to the camp, idiot!" You snapped at him, your hand flying up to your chest. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Trying to take deep breaths in that just continuously proved to be hard as you only choked up more. Coughing mixed with your sobs, you fell onto your knees, your hand clutching the very top of your chest as you tried to breathe.
"Hey-" Daryl fell onto the ground right in front of you, his rough hands grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you straight, trying to get you to look at him. "Calm down," he strictly told you.
"H-He-" you sobbed, "he... fucked her. He just-", coughing again as the air got stuck in your throat.
"I know- hey-" you lowered your head to look at the ground beneath you, only for Darly to grab your chin and make you look back up again. "He's a fuckin' idiot. Don't cry 'bout him."
"W-What did I do?" You asked, technically hypothetically, as you continued to choke on your own cries. "What do- How?!"
"Ya didn't do anythin'," he tried to console you. "He's a dumb fuckin' bastard. A coward. A stupid mongo-"
"Lori... I-I thought-," stopping yourself again as another sob shot through your body.
"It's okay," Daryl whispered, "don't fuckin' cry for 'em. Ya think they would cry for ya?"
"What about Carl?!" You ignored his comment, instead continuing to throw out whatever came to your head.
The archer shook his head, "That ain' your problem to worry 'bout."
"She- she just lost her husband... a-and now this?!" 
Before Daryl could say anything, you brushed off his hands from your shoulders and raked yourself up.
Still sniffling, you looked around. "We gotta go back." Noticing that the sun had already started to set and no one was supposed to be out in the dark.
With a grunt, he copied you, pushing himself up to stand again while his eyes continued to follow you as you tried to get yourself back together. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin, making you look up. Cheeks tears stained, burning read. Your eyes were swollen, still letting single drops of tears escape as you slowly managed to even out your breathing.
"Let's go back." You re-secured the bag and bog on your shoulder before turning around to walk to the camp. A sigh escaped Daryl's lips as he shook his head slightly before jogging up towards you, stopping you with his hands back on your shoulders. He swiftly turned you around, only to let go again, his steps slowing down to let you walk ahead. This time, in the right direction.
The way back was spent mostly in silence, only a few remarks coming from the archer each time he had to tell you to either turn right or left. In no time, you had come back, finding most of the group either already back in their tents or gathered by the SUV. The sun had fully set, now the only source of natural light coming from the soft glow of the moon.
"There you are!" Dale called out as soon as his eyes found you. The smile that had started to spread on his lips fell quickly as soon as you got close enough to him to let him see the dishevelled state you were in. "What happened?" He gasped, but you just shook your head and made a quick B-turn towards your tent. The tent you shared with Shane.
The older man's tone changed quickly, clearly blaming one specific person for your mood as he followed behind you not much later.
"What the hell did you do to her?" Dale snapped at Daryl, only to get a scoff in return.
"How abou' you ask her asshole fiancé." The Dixon brother left him with that, ignoring the looks of the people around them. He opened his satch to take out the two chipmunks you had caught, only to throw them onto a set-up table and disappear down towards the quarry.
In the comfort of the plastic walls, with the bow and arrows set down outside, you had let yourself let go one more time, the tears not needing more than mere seconds before running down your cheeks again. You couldn't continue crying about this.
'Ya think they would cry for ya?'
Daryl's words rang through your mind. You hated to admit that he was most probably right.
Your relationship with Shane wasn't tense. At least until a few months ago. It had always been a little bit more difficult than you would've liked to, but you remembered the words of your mother, saying 'marriage is hard', making you realise that most likely each couple had their fair share of issues to work through. And you and Shane seemed to just have a good amount of those. Either disagreements, discussions, or different ideas and wants. Everything from as simple as the colour of your living room walls, to which state you'd have your wedding in - since your grandma was almost bedridden, you had proposed to have at least the officiant ceremony in Ohio, but Shane was, surprise, against that.
You glanced down at your ring. A gold band, holding a small square diamond right in the middle. It was beautiful. Even though you had always solely worn silver jewellery and had mentioned the classic round diamond as your dream style. Still, you had accepted the proposal. You looked past the smirks he would send waitresses and secretaries. Ignored comments he made about other people in your life. You had even given in and promised him not to get too close to anyone in the group that was right outside.
It was never 'controlling' in your eyes. You didn't know any better. But while you had to lock yourself away, making doing laundry your only form of 'entertainment', he was having fun with a presumed widow. Whereas he had told you and everyone else that he would be spending the day trying to hunt down 'something big'. 
You shook your head. You had all the reasons to leave him already months ago and yet you didn't. A lot of your friends had told you you'd regret marrying him. But he had managed to get into your head, making you think that they were the crazy ones. That all of your 'dumb sorority girlfriends' had no idea what they were talking about.
Comments and stares were one thing you could look past, but cheating... you had to draw the line somewhere. You remembered all the times your college friends came crying into the dorm, sobbing into their pillows as they complained about their boyfriends fucking around with other girls on campus. Everyone would gather and support them with one opinion: dump him. Leave him. He doesn't deserve you.
'I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son.'
There was Daryl's voice again in the back of your head. Screaming at you. If even he could see it, yet you were too blind to realise it...
With one final deep breath in, you gathered the sleeping bag you had claimed for yourself into your arms, along with your pillow. You managed to drag everything out of the tent, suddenly feeling more free than ever.
Looking around, you found no one sitting outside anymore, indicating most had gone to bed, but the light inside the RV made you hopeful. You couldn't sleep in your shared tent tonight. Or ever again. And Dale was your only other choice. With everything packed in your arms, you made your way over to the vehicle, knocking on the door with your foot. Two voices made you look behind you, your face immediately falling when you found Shane and Lori coming back from the woods. They took their goddamn time.
The door opened, catching your attention again. Dale looked at you in confusion but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.
"Can I sleep here tonight?"
Forget about your age. Suddenly, you felt like a little kid again. Too scared to sleep on their own, begging their parents to let them sleep in their room.
"Y/N?" Shane's rough voice called out your name, making your heartbeat quicken.
You looked up at the older man in panic. "Please."
With no hesitation, Dale nodded, stepping aside to let you walk in, ushering you inside with his hand. Daryl's remark from earlier had engraved itself in his brain as soon as he found the sheriff strutting over to his RV in big steps.
"What is she doing, Dale?" He wondered, his voice holding slight anger to it. "Y/N!" He shouted out your name again, but you gave him no response.
The older man stopped Shane from coming any closer.
"You better leave, son."
"What the fuck did I do?!" He unknowingly asked before getting the RV's door closed in his face.
The moment silence took over the enclosed room, Dale turned to you, now sitting on the small sofa.
"What the fuck did he do?"
If there was one person in this apocalyptic world that you had come to trust, it was Dale. He had already let you into his home, he deserved to get a reason for it.
You could already feel the tears filling your eyes again. Both of you ignored the knocks on the door, the old man's eyes fixed solely on you as he sat down by the small dining table, ready to wait patiently for you to answer his question.
"He... he cheated on me...," You couldn't hold back the sob that followed. "With Lori." The added remark made Dale's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He leaned back into his chair, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair as he huffed out a chunk of air.
"Daryl and I- we saw them in the woods-," You let your head fall into the palms of your hand. The old man was quick back on his feet, on his way over to you.
"Oh, honey," sighing out, but stopping as the heavy knocks on the door continued. With an annoyed huff, he rushed over to the door to pull it open.
"Get the fuck away from my RV!" Shouting at Shane, not even giving him a moment to answer as he smashed the door close again.
"I-I don't know what to do." You admitted in sobs, glancing up at the man as he got closer to you, making space to sit down next to you. A comforting arm found its way around your shoulder while his other hand rubbed your upper arm.
"That man doesn't deserve an angel like you," he whispered at you, hoping his calming voice would soothe your cries. "He clearly doesn't know what he lost with a stupid act like that."
"He proposed to me," you showed him the ring in desperation. "Only to cheat on me?"
"What can I tell ya, kid... young men are...," Dale sighed as he shook his head. "Dumb... and blind. They think they own the world."
You continued to sob in the man's arms. Listening to his soft voice as he spoke to you while you kept on your rambles of despair. Why Lori out of all people? You used to go out on double dates with your partners. You had known Rick Grimes for a good few years now. He was a good man. You had thought Lori was a good woman. But there she went, sleeping with an engaged man. The colleague, and best friend of her husband. Who may or may not be dead. Maybe Rick was gone, but you were still there. Only one partner of the cheating couple was widowed. The other part was still very much in a committed relationship. Or so you thought.
"W-What do I do now?" You wondered out loud. "How am I supposed to continue this?" Not necessarily talking about your relationship with Shane, but the situation altogether.
"You don't." Daryl's simple but straightforward answer made you look up. In the meantime, your sobs had quieted down again.
"What?"
"You tell him," he strictly told you. "You tell him what you saw. And you end it. Men like that... they don't change."
"God...," you fell back into the cushions behind you, running your hands down your face as you wiped the tears away. "Was I just... not good enough for him anymore? Why would he do something like this?"
"I wish I could tell ya, honey. But don't think that this has anythin' to do with you," Dale's stern voice made you glance at him. "Men like him don't think. You think he really thought of the possible consequences of his actions?"
You shrugged.
"He didn't. If he did, he wouldn't have done it. And men like don't deserve a second chance. Hell- they don't even deserve a first chance. But they're charming and whatnot, and before you know it, they're havin' their dicks in other women, breaking hearts of the ones that actually care about them."
You decided to stay quiet, letting his words sink in and register with you.
"You don't deserve that, honey."
Nodding your head, you took a deep breath in, wiping your nose. "I know..." With a sigh, you pushed yourself to stand up. "I have to talk to him."
"You sure, you wanna do that tonight?" The man carefully asked you, but you had already made up your mind, so you just continued to nod.
Quietly, you left the RV, of course not before Dale promised to set up a bed for you to stay in inside his movable home. You knew you had found the confidence to face your- Shane. Yet, your shaking legs and hands almost betrayed you. Realising, you didn't even truly think about how to start the conversation, the anxiety inside of you only started to bubble up more, hitting its highest point when you suddenly saw Shane exiting your tent.
His eyes fixed on you in the dark, finding your silhouette coming towards him thanks to the light shining through the RV's windows.
"Y/N-" he started, but you interrupted him right away.
"It's over."
Shane's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"
"It's over," you repeated, finding your voice slightly shakier than you would've liked to. You glanced down your hands, almost mindlessly, wrapping your fingers around the gold band. Once, the sight of the shimmering ring on your finger made you smile, now it just shot another wave of sadness through your body. Almost shakingly, you took the last step, pulling the gold band off your finger, the metal leaving your skin, making you breathe out heavily.
"Hey- hey," the sheriff rushed closer to you, making you scoot back in reflex. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" You spat at him, a salty chuckle tumbling from your lips. There was a slight change in expression on his face as he lifted his hands in defence.
"Listen-"
"No, you listen," you stopped him again. You didn't even let your brain think about what words were about to fall from your lips. "Don't even try-" You had to stop yourself, taking a deep breath in, trying to promise yourself not to cry in front of the man that you had lost so many nerves to.
"What the hell are you doing?" He continued to ask you, his frown only deepening.
But you just continued to shake your head, ignoring the anger starting to lace his voice. You had seen Shane angry before. Even angry at you. And it scared you. But right now, the anger, you were trying to hold back, should terrify everyone involved in this situation.
Taking a few steps closer to stop right in front of him, you lifted your hand that was still tightly holding onto the ring you had once worn and shown off proudly. Once Shane opened his palm underneath it, you let it drop down.
"It's over." Before he could ask you anything more, you left him with one last comment hanging in the air. "Have fun with Lori."
Turning around, you could hear his heavy huffs and the callouts of your name, yet he didn't even dare to try and reach out to you, leaving you to make your way back towards the RV. In the back, the sound of him knocking over some of the empty cans you had gathered, filled the silence. Up ahead, you found a silhouette standing still, almost scaring you if it wasn't for the distinct stance you were able to recognise immediately. The dim light illuminated Daryl's scowl as he had clearly watched the scene from a distance.
Arrived at the door of the vehicle, you wanted to at least send him a tight smile, a goodnight and somewhat of a thank you, but the archer had already disappeared again in his usual nature.
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I CAN‘T WAIT TO POST PART 2🙈🤗🥰 I loved writing this so much omg
this is me officially stating I'm writing for the man that is Daryl Dixon now too :)
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whats-amata-you · 3 days
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Alright y’all hear me out, but I kinda like this interpretation of the Kaiba brothers where they have to deal with the consequences of a very codependent sibling relationship. Not like in the “something happens to Mokuba and Seto has a crisis” kind way, but in the “Mokuba doesn’t know who the hell he is outside the context of being Seto’s little brother” kind of way.
Literally everything Seto ever did from the day Mokuba was born was toward the singular goal of Mokuba’s wellbeing. He sacrificed everything to give Mokuba better opportunities, a more stable home life, a better chance at happiness than Seto ever really had for himself. Seto even gave up huge swaths of who he himself was to work toward that goal. It was all for Mokuba.
But Mokuba was right there with him, the whole time, watching his brother suffer and doing everything in his power to protect him. Mokuba’s whole identity revolves just as much around Seto as Seto’s does around Mokuba.
And that’s fucked up all well and good when Seto’s a teenager and Mokuba hasn’t even hit puberty and only one of them is really taking on any serious adult responsibility. But imagine what that must be like when Mokuba grows up.
Imagine being 20 and as long as you can remember you’ve been worrying about keeping your older brother alive. Maybe he’s in late twenties or early thirties now, and life has finally forced him to either do the work of healing and moving on or else spiraling into self-destruction to the point that not even you can save him anymore. Maybe he’s married off and happy in his own life, or maybe he’s dead or missing and left you behind as his only heir to the family fortune.
And you’re just as completely, utterly lost either way because either way, he doesn’t need you the same way anymore. And on top of that, you realize you don’t really need him the same way anymore.
His routines aren’t yours anymore. His moods don’t set the tone for your whole day anymore. You don’t plan your life around him and his needs anymore.
So. What do you do when you’re suddenly cut loose and left adrift?
I imagine Mokuba floating through life a lot for his twenties, maybe into his thirties. He’s got no sense of direction or purpose without Seto being the center of it all. He realizes he doesn’t have to become a businessman like Seto and help run Kaiba Corporation, but doesn’t know what the hell else he might even want to do. Doesn’t even have a clue. He goes into business anyway because he knows he has to do something, but he doesn’t really enjoy it and it wears on him. He’s popular with women but can’t make a relationship last more than a few weeks; they keep fizzling out because he just doesn’t seem to have any ambition.
It’s super easy for Mokuba to see and acknowledge how Seto was always sort of his dad when they were kids, as well as his brother. Seto actively took up the role and wasn’t shy about saying so outright. But I don’t think either of them realizes quite as easily just how much Mokuba was parentified too, even from a very young age. Seto made Mokuba’s physical health and overall wellbeing his business on purpose, but Mokuba accidentally stumbled into providing a level of emotional support to Seto that no child should ever be responsible for. That kind of relationship would fuck anyone up.
I feel like an interpretation of them Kaiba brothers that had a Mokuba who ended up being rather directionless and having issues with his sense of who the hell he is after Seto’s inevitable Character Development one way or the other is worth exploring. People change over time, and if a fic is set a decade or more post-canon…idk, I just feel like Mokuba’s trauma deserves some serious exploration, too.
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dianneking · 2 days
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The Bet - Brienne/Reader bookshop AU
Hi dears, in case you wanted some trashy, slightly angsty romance bookshop AU starring none other than the majestic Brienne of Tarth as well as yourself...well, look no further cause you're in the right place! It is with great pleasure that I present you
The Bet
Tags: Alternate Universe - Bookshop, Out of character, Angst with a happy ending, POV second person, Idiots in love, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Panic Attacks, Hints of past violence, Swearing. Word count: 5423.
AO3 link in the title above.
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"Hello?" 
You did a double take when you lifted your eyes from the monitor. You didn't mean to, but the woman in front of you was not the kind of person that usually found her way to your tiny bookshop. 
She was...well, she was imposing , to begin with: taller than you'd ever seen a woman be, with broad shoulders that the t-shirt she was wearing did nothing to hide...and she looked clearly out of her environment among the shelves, standing with her back ramrod straight and her hands clasped in front of her, shifting from foot to foot, a frown taking over her face the more and more you looked at her without saying anything. As if she was waiting for your reply...
Oh!
Right.
"Oh uhm sorry, yes? Uh hi, welcome! What brings you to our bookshop today?" You cringed at your own awkwardness, but her expression didn't change too much from her frown.
"I lost a bet."
"A...bet?" Well this was unexpected. Surely your little shop was not so scary that getting into it was a dare? And this woman in front of you looked as if she'd be afraid of very little. She looked more disgruntled than scared anyways, light eyebrows corrugating over those piercing, beautiful blue eyes, lips pressing together as her nostrils flared out. She looked like the type of woman who spends more time in a gym than in a bookshop but apart from that, you had no idea what kind of bet would bring her here. Not that you were complaining. 
"Yes. I lost a bet and now I have to buy a book here. Surely you can provide me with one." She enunciated, as if she was talking to the dumbest person alive. You didn't care. Her accent was melting your insides into a pile of goo. 
I'd like to provide you with my number , your mind dreamily suggested as a reply, but you squashed it ruthlessly down. Not every woman with muscles is interested in other women, you reminded yourself. And even if she were, it didn't follow that she would be interested in you , anyway - the woman was the definition of Out Of Your League, with her short blonde hair, her chiseled jaw, her strong arms crossed on her chest…and you had lost your train of thought once again. 
"Hmmmm yes sure. Uhm not a fan of reading?" She bristled as if you had insulted her.
"Of course I read .” She scoffed “I make time to read daily. I simply don't waste my time with all of this..." she gestured around her, vaguely including the manga section and the horror shelves in her speech "...this fiction ." She spat the word as if it had offended her by its own existence.
Right.
If you had to be completely honest, if it had been anyone else insulting your beloved books, you'd have been all up in their faces. These weren't just books, they were your babies, your companions during the long days at work and your even longer sleepless nights, they were your best friends in a way no human ever could aspire to be. From the moment you had understood that in those pages lied countless stories, adventures you could partake in, emotions you had never felt, you were in love with reading already.
That's why you were working here, day after day, smiling up at the shelves filled to the brim, cursing the paperwork and cleaning and everything that kept you away from cracking open the newest release and losing yourself in its pages.
You loved your job because you loved books.
So anyone insulting your papery companions would be treated to your Cold Stare™ and Dismissive Attitude™.
And yet...you guessed this woman was clearly misguided in her dismissing all fiction with such a sneer. The fact that her sneer was so damn attractive didn't absolutely play any role in your sudden conciliatory attitude. Absolutely not. Nuh-huh. Not at all.
"Hello? Are you still there?" 
Well, fuck. Daydreaming of a client when they are in front of you. Great way to appear professional, and to make a good first impression on a gorgeous first-time client.
"Huh. Yeah, uhm sorry, I was thinking of possible recommendations that would suit your needs. What are your general interests?" You tried to patch things up only to be once again met with her frown.
"That is a useless endeavor. I will not enjoy wasting my time reading it anyways. Just give me one." 
"But you will read it?" 
"Of course! I did give my word."
Her word . Who said that nowadays? Giving your word? That was the stuff of old, of knights, of epic tales of heroism, of... fiction .
Oh.
You might have the right book for this hard, formal, stunning woman.
You stood up, surprising her with your sudden movement, but you didn't notice the way her eyebrows shot up, nor the way her eyes followed you as you made your way to the book, rising to your tiptoes to reach it.
You presented it to her like a hunter presents their caught prey.
"This." 
She gingerly caught it between her fingers, as if it could bite her, or worse, contaminate her with the debauchery of reading for pleasure.
"This?" 
"You'll like it." 
"Haven't you listened? I said I don't like fiction."
"I heard you. You didn't say you don't like it. You said you don't read it." You didn't even know where the confidence came from, but you were sure. This was the right book for her.
She seemed to be surprised by it. Surprised enough to give up her fight with a huff. 
"I guess I might as well get this since you're so sure about it." 
She started skimming the first pages as you rang it up for her, and you could see her frown slightly easing up.
You hid your smile, feeling it pulling at the corners of your mind as she absent-mindedly handed you her card, paid and wandered out the shop, her nose still in the book.
____
"So about that little bet we had, did you get the book?" 
Brienne didn't like admitting she was wrong. She sure as shit wouldn't admit that to Jaime of all people. She wouldn't hear the end of it.
But no matter all of her misgivings, she was enjoying that book. The plot had captivated her against her will, and more than one time she had found herself up until the early morning hours glued to the pages, lost in the description of adventures that had never happened if not in the fantasy of the author.
Such a far cry from her usual dry, factual fare of nonfiction books. Boring , some would call them, practical , she’d counter. You see, Brienne was a practical woman and she happened to like that about herself. And if people found her boring, it was their fault, not her own.
"Yes, I did get that" she replied in a bored tone, hiding her excitement below her well-polished mask.
She thought of the excitement on your face as you got the idea of suggesting this book to her. Of how smug you had looked when handing her the volume.
So sure she'd like it. And the most shocking aspect of it all was the fact that she did. 
And maybe, maybe in the privacy of her own mind she could admit to herself that she also thought of the way your shirt had risen as you reached for the book, exposing a sliver of your midriff as it did so. And the way your eyes had sparkled when you had handed her the novel, challenge and amusement and confidence mixing in your gaze. 
She had liked that too, just like the book, and just like the book she had liked it almost against her better judgment.
________
"How did you do it?"
Your heart skipped a beat as she charged into the shop, the bell ringing behind her long after she had entered, a thunderous frown on her face, the copy of the book she had purchased from you tightly held in her slender yet strong fingers.
She had gorgeous hands too…some people were just blessed with beauty, you thought. And you were blessed with being able to see and talk to such beauty.
The smile that climbed to your face was not your usual customer service one, but a warmer one, a special one just for her.
"So, did you like it?" 
She looked taken aback at your warmth, and you could see the faint beginning of a blush on her cheeks.
"I did, if you must know it!" She looked offended at the very thought. It was adorable.
"Oh I am so glad to hear that! The author is an emerging one, only has another one published, if you liked their style you might enjoy this too!"
"What for?"
"Why, as your next fiction book, of course. Isn't that why you came back?"
"I…maybe."
This time your smile got a definite hint of smugness in it.
"Are you going to fight me over this one too? Should I dare you to read this as well?"
"Listen here, don't get cocky. You just got lucky there. It won't happen again."
It did.
As a matter of fact it kept happening, and you fell into a sort of beautiful bookish routine. Depending on how long the book was and how busy she was, your favorite client would grace your shop with her presence once every couple of weeks or more, always putting up an offended front at having liked the fiction book you had suggested and yet always asking for another one.
Slowly but steadily she would start opening up about what she liked in them, allowing you to start collecting tidbits of information about her as well - she loved historical fiction, and fantasy too. She wasn't so keen on sci-fi and urban fantasy unless the plot was somehow worth it. She loved strong female main characters and complex character arcs. 
During the day she was kept busy from her work (law enforcement, she told you on one occasion, and didn’t go in more detail, you wondered if she was just a regular cop or maybe something cooler), but she found time to read in the evenings ("Mornings are absolutely for working out, no way I am skipping that for a book. Even if it is a good one.” she had stated, as if it was the law, and you had nodded dumbly, once again mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze, even if you woke up with a book and read it during breakfast and on the commute to the shop and couldn’t think of a better way to start the day). 
_______
“And I loved the world building in this one, the interaction between the characters, and I can't wait to read the second part and understand where these mechanical enemies are originating from!” 
You looked up at her as she agitatedly waved her copy of Clockwork Boys in the air, trying to express how much she had enjoyed it. You found it hard to believe how different she was from the hard, reluctant person that had first set foot in your shop. Mesmerizing. Just as she was. 
Suddenly you felt brave, braver than you'd ever thought you could be.
“In two weeks the author is going to be at our local book fair, if you'd like…maybe we could…go together?” you stumbled on your words a little and you could feel your cheeks getting hotter but that didn't change the fact that you had managed to ask your crush out!! 
And she didn't say no! She looked a bit stunned for a second but then she ran her free hand through her hair (oh it looked so soft and silky, you wanted to bury your hands in it too).
“Sure! Is it going to be Tuesday in two weeks, right?”
“Y-yeah.” Had she just…?
“Cool, I have the day off anyways, so it works like a charm.” She… She…
While your brain was still reeling, unable to process the fact that she had said yes , she grabbed the stack of post-its and pen and started jotting down something.
You blinked at her, unsure of what to make of the string of numbers you were seeing until she straightened up and handed you the sticky note with a…was it a shy smile pulling her lips up? Her eyes had never looked so big before, of that you were sure.
You looked at the sticky note. It was a pink one, and you had to resist the childish urge to draw hearts all around the numbers. You just were so happy! You thought as you went to save it into your phone, only belatedly noticing a glaring tactical error on your side. 
You still didn't know her name!
You felt like hitting your forehead on the desk. How was this even a thing? Who doesn't know their crush’s name? You, that's who. Too busy ogling her and inviting her to book fairs to remember to ask her her frickin name! 
Hehe. But you did ask her out and she did say yes. That had to count for something, right?
You looked down at your phone and then typed up “ My Knight 🩷 ” in the name field, struggling to contain the giggle that threatened to escape your lips. In another world she would have totally been a proud knight, protecting the defenseless and fighting for justice, you were sure of it. And she would have looked gorgeous in armor. 
Tomorrow, you told yourself. You'd text her to work things out tomorrow. Surely you could resist that long. The fair was ages away anyway. You could resist a handful of hours to avoid seeming desperate, surely you could.
You texted her that same night, of course. 
But she did reply almost instantly, and you managed to start a conversation beyond the bare minimum details of your…was it a date? It had to be a date, right?
She told you about her dinner, and how she had already started on the sequel of the book she had just finished. You could almost feel her excitement through the message.
You fell asleep with your phone beside you on the pillow, dreaming of soft blonde hair and armor  and book fair dates. 
____________
"Are you the one who's been selling Brienne fiction?" 
You were pretty sure you had never seen the man who had just entered your shop as if he owned it. 
"I'm sorry?" 
"You know, Brienne? Tall, blonde? Hates all fiction books except the ones you've been selling her?" 
So that was your knight's name! And what a roundabout way to learn it! Just like in the best novels, it seemed that you had been spared the humiliation of asking her for her name after you’d known each other for months. 
Brienne.
You liked the way it sounded. 
Brienne.
It sounded like the name of a warrior, a strong, hard-headed and hard-working woman who'd stop at nothing to achieve her dreams. A knight. 
“I am Jaime by the way, nice to meet you. So are you the one?" He offered you his hand, you took it mechanically, trying to answer his question without giving too much away. Your knight’s reading habits were none of this dude’s business,that’s for sure.
"I don't know if I am the only one. Maybe she just doesn't tell you about all the fiction she enjoys."
"Nice try to defend her honor. I see why she likes you."
She liked you?
Butterflies erupted in your stomach and it took all of your self-control to avoid bursting into a happy dance.
She liked you!! Shelikedyoushelikedyou.
She liked you. 
She liked you.
She liked you !
The man in front of you kept talking, oblivious to the cheering going on within your brain.
"Listen, I know Brienne, okay? She's a lovely girl but I had to bet with her to make her unwind enough to consider reading something for pleasure."
“Well she probably didn't find the right book until now.”
“Or the right book dealer… so are you hers or not?” 
"Maybe I am…But why do you want to know that?"
“Well if you were , I'd owe you a huge thanks and possibly a round of drinks, cause she's been in a downright good mood for the past months, and especially in the past week or so. As her partner, I spend most of the day with her, and believe me, I am beyond grateful for the change.”
Oh.
Her…
Oh.
Of course.
Of course she had a boyfriend. No, a partner. That's even more committed, right?You had been so stupid. Stupid and stupidly hopeful. So hopeful and you'd once again mistaken friendship for something else, just like you did so many times in the past. 
You tried to swallow around that piece of news, you kept on a brave face while he still waffled about something or something else, but you had no idea what he was talking about.Nor did you care, all the joy that had taken over you had just as quickly dissolved, leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
You didn't remember him leaving, but you knew that you were quick to lock the door after him and close up shop.Only then, surrounded by your beloved books, you allowed yourself to break down and cry all of your tears.
____________
You didn't cancel on Brienne, even if a part of you wanted to do nothing but stay home and mope. Yet you were sure you'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't go. 
And she had looked so happy when you had invited her. She probably didn't have a lot of female friends, you thought. When she talked of her hobbies, it had always been things that she did on her own. Working out, reading, jogging. 
She was probably glad to have some company. Someone to talk to that she vibed with. That was that. It had always been that, and you reading more into it didn't change the harsh truth.
Your heart was beating faster when you pulled up to the parking lot of the venue, but it was more due to trepidation than happiness. You had been preparing yourself mentally for a bookish date with your crush, not for…an outing with a friend. You weren't sure how to behave now, your mind too busy going through every single interaction the two of you had had, dissecting each word, each smile, each playful joke at each other's expense. When did you start thinking you could have a chance? At what point had your hopes become delusions?
Your phone started buzzing as you got out of the car. “My Knight 🩷” appeared on the screen, and you had to swallow against a hard knot. 
You know you should have changed the name. You knew her name now, and she most definitely wasn't your knight. And yet…you still hadn't.
With a sigh, you picked up, trying to be optimistic despite the dread pooling in your stomach. You could do this. Friends. You could hang out with your friend that just happened to be the hottest woman you'd ever seen. It was going to be okay. 
_____
It was not okay. 
It was anything but okay. 
Who thought that Brienne was going to be the kind of straight girl that gets all touchy-feely with her female friends? She had hugged you when you two met up and you thought you would die on the spot, surrounded by her arms and her perfume and the happiness of her voice.
And then as you walked through the venue, weaving through the stands, checking out books (you couldn't remember a single one you'd seen, preoccupied as you were with your companion) her hand kept finding excuses to touch you, once on the shoulder to get your attention, once wrapping around your elbow to direct you to a certain stand, once simply splayed on your back as you discussed cover designs.
It was torture. Every time her warm hands touched you, your heart would start racing, still stubborn in its hopefulness. But then you’d remember that it was all in your head and your heart would painfully constrict because oh it would have been so nice if it had just been true.
By the time you sat down in the auditorium where the author panel was about to start, you were a jittering mess. 
You kept replaying each interaction you had with Brienne, trying to rationally explain to your heart why, even if it might seem like she was coming onto you, she had a boyfriend and therefore it had to be her way of being friendly. 
Yes, even when she placed her hand squarely on your knee as the authors started their introductions.
To be honest you weren't sure what had been said at the panel. You mechanically laughed when you felt others do the same, and studied Brienne’s profile out of the corner of your eye. She had a soft smile on her face. As if she was enjoying herself. As if there was nothing wrong with the way her hand was resting on your leg, absentmindedly stroking lazy patterns with her thumb. Driving you mad. 
You were so engrossed in your thoughts and in her touch that you hadn't even noticed that the panel had ended, and most of the spectators had filed away, leaving the two of you alone in the auditorium.
You did notice Brienne shifting in her seat to turn towards you. Mainly because that caused her hand to climb slightly up your leg, putting it decidedly in the thigh area. Clearly an oversight on her part, but you could feel your breathing getting slightly quicker, and looking up to see her stunning eyes trained on you with laser-sharp focus didn't help you with that.
How unfair.
How terribly unfair for her to be so close, and yet unreachable.
How crushing that her hand, searing hot on your thigh, was not a promise of something more.
How sad that you'd never get to kiss those lips even if they were getting closer as Brienne leaned towards you…you could see her blonde lashes fluttering slightly, the small scar on her upper lip, her breath light on your face…
Suddenly she was too close.
Your heart jumped in your throat, and it felt like it had cut off all of your air supply. 
There was a ringing in your ears, and your skin was crawling hot and cold at the same time. 
You could see the little scar on her lip almost flickering, as your vision swam with black, and you knew without any doubt that you had to 
GET OUT OF HERE!! 
______
"So this is where you've been hiding." Brienne's voice was not warm anymore. You guiltily looked up at her from your spot on the bench. She wasn't smiling at you anymore and you wanted to hit yourself for that. It wasn't her fault that you had misunderstood all of her cues and kept seeing what your wishful thinking desired, and yet she had been the one to go through the pains of searching for you while you hid away to work your way down your panic attack.
She sat down beside you, a heavy sigh on her lips.
"I need to ask you something."
Oh. There it comes, you thought. The direct questioning that preceded the gentle let down. The 'I'm flattered but I don't feel the same' speech. As if you had never heard it before. Your heart remembered the pain as if it had been yesterday, and valiantly tried to brace itself for the inevitable rejection.
"Why?"
Huh? That…that was not what you expected her to start with, but she kept talking, and you had no choice but listen. "Why ask me out if you're so clearly uncomfortable with me? Is this some sick joke? It wasn't enough to prove me wrong over and over again? You wanted to humiliate me, too?" 
You could only stare open-mouthed at Brienne as she rained down harsh words on you, anger and pain mixing on her face. She was so beautiful. Even when angry. She looked like a vengeful angel, the righteous hand of God, coming to punish you for daring to hope too much .
"I-I'm sorry." You tried to explain yourself, but she didn't let you, her voice hard and cutting and relentless.
" You are sorry ? Is that all you can say? That's not enough for me. Especially when it's clearly bullshit. Do you think that's the first time people make fun of me? That someone thinks that going out with Brienne The Beauty is the funniest prank on Earth? Did you do it for a laugh, hm? Didn't expect me to say yes when you asked?" 
"No, actually I did not."
"You! The fucking nerv-"
"I didn't dare to hope you'd say yes because you're out of my league!" 
A stunned silence met your words. You didn't know where the strength to interrupt her came from but you had to. You couldn't let her go on thinking you had asked her out to make fun of her or something. And once you started talking, you couldn't help yourself. The truth had to come out, so you pushed on: "Which clearly you are. But you said yes and I…Brienne, I am so sorry. I tend to live in my head and you were so nice to me and I thought…but clearly I shouldn't have. Thank goodness Jaime told me before I made a fool of myself. Which apparently I still did. Fuck. I am sorry for that, I promise you I am enjoying myself today and I am sorry I am awkward and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore after this." 
"Jaime? What does he have to do with all of this? Did…did he set you up to do this?" You could hear the betrayal seeping in her voice and you couldn't bear it. If you couldn't have her, at least you could do your best not to have her break up with her boyfriend over a huge mess of a misunderstanding that you did all by yourself. By thinking you had a chance with this goddess.
Better if she hated you instead. Which she would do anyways. If she didn't already.
"No. Nono he's been nothing but friendly. He just dropped by the shop because he was curious about the books you've been reading." 
"Then why did you bring him up?"
"I didn't know, okay? When I asked you to come here, I didn't know."
"What didn't you know?" Oh she wasn't making it easy on you, was she? 
"I thought…I thought you might be interested in me - which I now realize is ridiculous. That's why I asked you out. I asked you and you said yes and you gave me your number and I thought it meant…I swear I didn't know! But then he told me and now I can't help but be awkward because I had thought this was a date and now it's not and I didn't want to ruin it for you which I guess I did anyways. I swear I didn't know when I asked you."
" Know what ? What did Jaime tell you?"
"That he's your…That you're his…That you two are together. Which makes sense, because you are so well assorted and you look perfect for each other and I am sure he can make you happy in ways that–" 
"WHAT?" The roar that came out of Brienne's mouth was almost feral.
"What 'what'?" You babbled back. You looked worriedly at her shaking hands. You knew she was going to be angry at you once she found out about your silly crush. But you still hoped she wouldn't hit you or something. She didn't seem like she'd be the type to take out her anger on you but…but those hands looked like weapons, clenched as they were into tight fists. 
"WHAT DID HE TELL YOU?"
You flinched away. You couldn't help it. The loud angry voice booming next to you, the hand shooting out towards your shoulder…you flinched away, your hands instinctively coming up to shield your face. Trying to make yourself as small as possible. Just as instinctively, apologies started dropping out of your mouth.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" 
Silence.
Well, not really silence but the soothing pitter-patter of rain on the tin roof above you. 
But no words.
No more loud anger.
And no new pain blooming on your body.
You dared to open your eyes and peer beyond your hands. 
Brienne…well, she was beautiful, as always. But she was also white as a sheet, her deep, blue, stunning eyes wide open and bright with unshed tears. Her whole face a mask of hurt as her gaze took in your shape, as far away from her as the small bench allowed you. Her hand was still in the air, but it had lost all the strength, it was just hanging, palm half-opened towards you as if to show you it was harmless. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a broken whisper.
"I…I wasn't going to hit you."
"I…huh…I'm sorry."
She sighed and straightened in her seat, tearing her eyes away from you to settle them on her hands, now clenched in her lap. Her back was once again ramrod straight. Just as she probably was , your mind cruelly reminded you.
"No. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, to make you think that I was…unsafe. I guess that with how I look, it's an easy assumption to make."
"Beautiful."
"I'm sorry?" 
"You said 'with how I look' and that's beautiful. You're beautiful, Brienne. He's a really lucky man."
It wasn't her fault and you knew it. You couldn't blame her for this huge misunderstanding, you couldn't let her think that she or her appearance was to blame for your reactions.
You put your hand on top of hers, trying to get her eyes back on you, to show her how truthful you were. Her hands were so cold. She still didn't look at you.
"He…We huh we're not together together." Her whisper was so soft that you thought you had misheard.
You had to. 
"I'm sorry?"
"Jaime and I are not together." 
"You two…are not?"
"No! I don't know why he would…wait. What did he say? What were his words?"
"Huhhh I don't remember exactly. He said something about you being his partner." You tried to keep the accusation out of your voice. She didn't seem like the type to try to cheat on her partner, denying she was in a relationship at all. Gaslighting you for her own ends. And yet, you didn't dare to hope that…
"Oh for fuck's sake! Is this where all of this came from? He's my work partner . Not my romantic partner!"
"Your… oh . Fuck."
"Yes, fuck. And since we're on the subject, when you asked me, I thought it was going to be a date as well, that's why I gave you my number!! But then we were here and you kept avoiding me and you tensed up every time I touched you and when I tried to kiss you you just ran away and I thought…I don't know what I thought."
"Could you maybe…try that again?"
"Try what?"
"To kiss me. I promise I won't run away this time. Or have a panic attack."
"Just like that? That's not how it's done! The moment must be right and mmmmph–"
You didn't let her finish her sentence. You threw yourself at her, lips on lips, slightly smashing your noses together in your haste. 
But neither of you cared, lips moving against each other, her hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, and both of yours coming up to cradle her face. You didn’t care, because unbeknownst to the other, each one of you had dreamed of this moment so many times, and yet now that it was happening it was better than any fantasy. 
Comments are always welcome. If you want to read more of my fanfictions, here's my masterlist.
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anothermansjeans · 2 days
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Heyy how abt singer!reader who is like a huge fan of someone and while she has a girls night with Penelope, JJ, & Emily she gets a call from her manager saying said artist wants to do a colab with her and she's like freaking out, like borderline crying her eyes out, hyperventilating and all of it. So they ask Spencer how to fix her or something like that.
<33
-XXX-
~W~
I LOVE THIS SM !! i made it a writing collab and i had to include mr harry styles (sorry not sorry???)
cw: alcohol mention (they're at the bar), panic attack ish?? reader gets overwhelmed with excitement and starts hyperventilating, spencer is a gift from god
wc: 632
singer!reader masterlist
++
“Are you having a good time?”
Penelope's question made you tilt your head as Emily and JJ came back from grabbing the drinks. “Yeah, of course!” Grabbing your vodka cran, you took a sip before continuing, “I don't go out a lot, but when I do, it’s normally because I was invited and the place is filled with paps. Shitty drinks too.” The girls laughed and you felt your phone buzz for what was probably the fifth time within fifteen minutes. Taking it out of your pocket, you furrowed your eyebrows at your manager's name. “Do you guys mind if I take this?”
They gave a nod and you quickly answered, all three women minded their business as you were too paranoid to walk away from the group. “Hey, Angie! What’s up?” Your body straightened up at the words on the other end of the phone. “Oh my– no fucking way. What the fuck, Ange?”
The agents began to tune in at the tone of your voice.
“Yeah– yeah, I’m uh, I’m fine, or whatever. Yeah. Uh huh. I’m with friends, yeah.” Another murmur was heard on the other end. “Yeah, thanks so much. Love you.”
When you hung up, your eyes began to well with tears and your breathing was uneven. They immediately shifted into action and Emily was by your side in an instant. “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Uh– yeah– I just–” your hyperventilating was starting to get worse, and JJ and Emily moved to stand you up on your shaky legs.
“Pen, we don't know what to do.”
“Get her some air! I’m calling Spencer, right now.”
And they did just that. Spencer picked up right away and once he heard Penelope’s panicked voice explain what was happening (or lack of explanation, to be honest), he got to the bar as soon as humanly possible. You were crouched down, trying to catch your breath as Spencer pulled up, and he ran towards your body, pulling you up by your shoulders and giving you a tight hug.
“Shh, you're okay, you're okay. I need you to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.” Your body was following his orders and once you were able to calm down a bit, your arms shifted to wrap around his waist. “What happened?” His voice was soft, and after a moment you pulled away, looking at the three women you most definitely embarrassed yourself in front of.
“He uh, He wants to write a song with me.” Everyone patiently waited for you to elaborate, and once you caught on, you let out a sigh. “Harry Styles wants to write a song with me.”
“Holy shit!” Penelope smacked her hand on her mouth from the outburst, “I am so sorry!”
You let out a breathy laugh while shaking your head. “This is insane to me.”
“I’m really happy for you. Proud too.” He brought you in for another hug, now whispering in your ear. “Do you want me to bring you home?”
You shook your head almost immediately, and moved your body back so you could look at him. “No, no.” You shifted your eyes to the three women who were trying very hard now to coo at the two of you. “I want to have fun with them. Maybe celebrate now that we’re out. Do you want to join?”
He placed a kiss on your forehead before releasing you with a smile. “No, that's okay. You continue to have girl’s night. We can celebrate privately when you come home.”
You lifted your eyebrows suggestively with a smirk, “okay then. I can't wait for that Dr. Reid.” You laughed and walked back to the girl, bidding your boyfriend a farewell. No matter what, this was definitely a night you would remember.
++
singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch
let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!
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