#the realisation that I’ve never drawn anyone kissing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @sexysirius @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz @iammirrorball @writeroutoftime @joyfullymulti @nuttytani @multifandomfix @freyathehuntress @lespaceboi

Taglists are open! Drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton fanfic #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fluff

2K notes · View notes

kikixreverie · 3 years

Note

Hi- may I ask for an angst-mix with Bucky x reader: she had her share of abusive/toxic relationships in her past, but it was nothing she spoke of, and not now when she had James. It wasnt like she thought she was gonna be triggered again, not by him, any other guy- buy not her Bucky! Some tiny bickering evolved to a large dispute, and before she knew what was happening, she shied away from him, making herself small, awaiting the blow - that never came... And instead she was overcome by shame...

Pasts and Apologies

Bucky x Fem!reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse from ex, some descriptions of abuse, angst, trauma

A/n - Okay I definitely went hard on the angst for this one. I kinda just went off on one so not so much bickering and more just a full blown argument but I've been feeling kinda angsty lately so I kinda accidentally made this darker than I expected. Please read the warnings and do not read if you think this could trigger you.

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

Love had not been kind to you before Bucky. Every decent memory of your ex was clouded with uncertainty, you would walk on eggshells around him, terrified that saying the wrong thing would set him off and you'd be calling Sam again, sobbing down the phone, cradling another bruise at the hands of your 'partner'.

You were together for years, devoted to and unconditionally in love with the man that you had met in high school. Childhood sweethearts.

He always was quick to anger and he wasn't shy about that. He never had any issues with shouting at you when you pissed him off, just as he never had issues with shouting at his mother or younger brother, but at the time, you had always stood up for yourself and defended the poor woman, making him apologise, and he let you, he always let you clean up his messes.

The first few years were spent in ignorant bliss, you constantly ignored the fear that would creep up your spine when he got angry, but you could manage a screaming match or two, you could manage it all because you loved him, you depended on him despite that he wasn't at all dependable.

The arguments were tough, but you never expected it to go further than that, but eventually, it did.

The first time he was physically aggressive was on his 22nd birthday. He had insisted that he spend his birthday with his friends, calling it a guys night, and you were fine with that, you knew how handsy he got when he was with his friends anyway, so you spent the day with him instead, making sure to keep him happy and spoilt rotten.

As the night crept on, you had tried to wait up for him to return, just as he had asked, but as it passed 3am you decided that he wouldn't mind you going to bed since you had work the next day, so you crawled into bed and fell asleep, a mistake, at the time, you didn't know you had made.

When he returned half an hour later to see you unconscious, he woke you up with his shouting, angry that you hadn't stayed up for him, convinced that you were ruining his night on purpose. The loud awakening was enough alone to trigger your fight or flight but when he threw the duvet off you and grabbed your ankle so tightly you knew a bruise would form, you were terrified. He dragged you off the bed and pushed you towards the door, telling you to fuck off, and you did, tears streaming down your face as you laid awake on the couch till morning.

It only got worse from there, when he realised that he could hurt you and get away with it, it became his favourite past time, he'd look for reasons to shout at you, make you do things that would piss him off just so he'd have a reason to be cruel.

When Sam started noticing dark bruises on your skin, he was livid, and despite how often you'd try to convince him that it's just clumsiness, Sam knew better.

There were rare days that you would have long conversations with Sam, you'd talk about how you'd lost all your friends and distanced yourself from your family but you didn't blame your abuser, you blamed only yourself, and Sam would beg you to leave him but you'd be sobbing in his arms, telling him that you still loved the man who hurt you, that he didn't really mean to hurt you and you'd feel even more guilt if you ever got him in trouble for it.

It was a long and hard journey, but the moment you told Sam that you wanted out, he was there for you, offering you to stay at his place and helping you call the cops. He gave you all the resources he could possibly find through the VA and set you up with an amazing therapist and eventually you were living in your own place, talking to old friends again, and filing a restraining order against your ex.

It was nearly two years later when you met him. Introduced through Sam, you met the love of your life on a Sunday. He was quiet and focused, with hard eyes scanning the room, looking for escape routes, analysing people's faces.

You smiled gently at him when you met, opting for a small nod in greeting instead of a handshake. You stayed near him for the remainder of the gathering, not pressuring him to speak to you, just sitting in silence. You were drawn to him, his behaviour was so similar to yours.

You knew what it felt like to want to just blend into the corner, to stay unnoticed, you understood the need to know how to escape a room, and you saw the way he hesitantly returned your smile and then struggled to chase his smile away once you had sat down beside him.

You and Bucky soon became each other's rocks, always there for the other on the hard days, days that you would spend just walking or reading together in calm silence. There was no doubt that the two of you loved each other, and after months and months of trying to hide longing glances and blushing cheeks, you finally confessed to each other, and the rest was history. You trusted him like you had never trusted anyone before.

As your relationship progressed, Bucky started to notice some strange things in your behaviour, how you'd always ask his permission for you to go out with friends, how you were always quick to apologise in any situation and distanced yourself from him when he was the slightest bit irritated.

He had tried to ask you about it, but you always changed the subject as soon as it was mentioned, ensuring him that it was nothing to worry about.

To tell the truth, you were embarrassed, you were ashamed that your ex still had this effect on you, and no matter how many times you told yourself that he would never, that your Bucky would never, your brain refused to allow you to believe it and you continued with the odd behaviour that you used as a defence mechanism when in the abusive relationship.

You never spoke out of line, you never asked him where or who he was going out with, and you never let small bickering escalate.

It was only after you had overheard Sam and Bucky in a heated conversation, Sam scolding Buck for being reckless and stupid during a mission, that you had your first argument with him.

You had called Sam while Bucky was at the store, convincing him to tell you what had happened and after a few minutes of guilt-tripping, Sam finally confessed that Bucky had practically ran into open fire, endangering himself in an attempt to shut down a Hydra base, it could've very easily been fatal, and it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you should've just asked Bucky about it, but you couldn't help yourself, and you knew that Bucky would've downplayed the whole situation.

When he returned home you were pacing up and down in the living room, chewing the inside of your cheeks and your nails to pieces because you could've lost him, Bucky could've died and he was acting as if it were nothing.

"Doll?" You could hear the worry in his voice as he placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and walked over to you, standing in front of you to stop your movement, pulling your hand from your mouth and kissing your knuckles.

It was supposed to calm you, and it almost did, but as his soft lips grazed your hand, and his eyes met yours, your mind kept wandering to the fact that he could've died.

This moment could've never happened, instead, you'd have Sam or Steve at your door, trying to deliver the news of their best friend's death, your lover.

"Honey speak to me" He looked utterly confused, but the look only made you feel angry.

How could he be so reckless?

"I just got off the phone with Sam."

He froze, eyebrows furrowing and taking a step away from you, waiting for you to explain.

Your gaze didn't move from the floor, trying to even out the anger and worry rushing through you, settling like a heavy rock in your stomach.

"He told me about the missions, about how you've been acting."

"What do you mean, how I've been acting?" He scoffed, sounding offended, and you sighed.

"How reckless you've been acting. Sam said that Tony's considering pulling you out of missions! How many times have you endangered yourself like this? How many times is it gonna take for you to realise that you could fucking die out there, James."

Your voice was stern, and the tone felt foreign against your tongue. Bucky's kept his face hard, refusing to show any emotion, but you could see the way his jaw clenched harshly, eyes glued to the corner of the room, ignoring your fiery glare.

"Were you ever going to tell me? I thought that all the injuries you got were fairly normal for the jobs you do, but when I hear that you run into open fire, that you make decisions on your own before talking to your team, that you've gotten fucking stabbed in the past, and you never told me, how do you expect me to react?"

He sighed heavily through his nose, jaw ticking in annoyance towards his friend, angry that he had told you even though it wasn't his place.

"I told him not to tell you." His voice was gruff, the words spoken harshly under his breath and you felt your anger flair again.

"What and you think that's okay?!"

His gaze shot to yours, looking at you incredulously.

"Bucky we're partners! You're supposed to tell me this shit, you're supposed to tell me when you've nearly died on a mission, you're supposed to trust me."

"You think I don't trust you?!" His voice was slightly raised and you felt your annoyance spike, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I'm gonna worry, James. This is a big deal, I can't believe you've been getting seriously injured and not telling me."

"Well, I don't think it's that big of a deal, Sam shouldn't have fucking told you. This wouldn't be happening if he had just kept his mouth shut, but no! Of course not!" Bucky's eyebrows were drawn in tight with annoyance, wishing you'd just drop the subject, "I'm not stupid, I know what I'm doing."

"What the hell do you mean 'You know what you're doing?' You know that you're not supposed to endanger yourself to complete a mission, yet you do it anyway. I'm glad Sam told me because otherwise, I doubt I'd ever find out!."

"I don't see how what I do on missions is anything to do with you. Sam is exaggerating. I'm fine!"

As Bucky's voice raised, you started to lose focus, flashbacks of your past echoing in your mind and in his annoyance, Bucky didn't notice the way your eyes had gone distant, losing sight of the man in front of you, the man you loved, and forming the image of the man you still see in nightmares, the man you're so terrified of seeing in the street that you haven't stepped foot in Queens since leaving him.

You could almost feel the sting of his palm against your cheek, the burn of his hand, tight around your wrist, and you tried to remind yourself that it wasn't real. It had been months since you'd had an episode, and your steps to control them were hard to find with the false image of your abuser so clear in front of you.

"Are you even listening to me?" The statement dragged you back to reality and you felt yourself calm when your eyes focused in on Bucky, reminding yourself that your ex wasn't here, that Bucky wasn't like that, he would never, but as he raised his arm to push his hair out of his face, everything flew out the window and in the moment, you were 21 again and you were sure he was going to hit you, your exes face flashing behind your eyes again.

You flinched, a gasp falling from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut and your head ducked down, breathing heavily through your nose as you awaited the hit.

Time slowed.

Bucky froze completely, his eyes wide and frantic as he quickly stumbled away from you, shaking his head as self-hatred ran through his veins, disgusted at himself for making you think even in the slightest, that he would ever hurt you.

"Doll?" He sounded absolutely broken.

Your head shot up, panic flooding through you when you realised what you had done and pain replacing the feeling when you saw the agony on Bucky's face.

"Y/n, I- I would never-" He kept his voice at a pained whisper, not wanting to scare you further as he stayed at a distance.

You collapsed to the floor, sitting on your knees as the weight of the situation pulled you down. Your hands raised to cover your mouth as a sob threatened to tear through you, so fucking ashamed of what had just happened, so fucking ashamed that your ex had done this to you, and you had let him for so long, ashamed that he still haunted you.

"Babydoll I-" He struggled to find the words, terrified that he had just lost you, wanting to reach out and hold you but scared shitless of hurting you more than he already had, "I don't know what- I'm so fucking sorry y/n, I can't- I can't even fathom the thought of-"

His voice trailed off, unable to even say the words and you felt your guilt tenfold.

"N-No Bucky, I'm sorry I thought-" You struggled to speak through your crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you rocked yourself gently in an attempt to self-soothe.

"Why are you apologising honey? This is on me, this is-"

"No, it isn't, I promise Buck this isn't you, it's.." You couldn't get the words out, you couldn't tell him, "Just come here, please."

You wanted him to wrap his arms around you, you needed him to know that it wasn't him, you know the way his mind works and you knew that by now he would already be drowning in guilt and self-hatred.

"I don't think that I should. I don't want to hurt you, I can't- I can't hurt you" You smiled at him gently through your tears and your chin wobbled as you saw the tears running down his cheeks too.

"It's okay. I'm okay Bucky, I just- I-I need you over here, I need you - I need you to touch me. I need you."

He was over in an instant, falling to the floor beside you and letting out a huge sigh of relief when you instantly wrapped yourself around him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and crawling into his lap, needing to be as close to him as possible, to rid the memories of the pain, to remind yourself that his touch is good, his touch is safe.

Arms enveloped you and he held you as tight as possible, the both of you crying.

After the two of you had calmed down and a comfortable silence enveloped you, Bucky knew he would have to break it.

"Why did you think that I would hit you?" He asked, his voice tentative and gentle and you sighed, knowing that it was time for you to tell him.

"I didn't, I don't, I promise."

You lifted your head from his shoulder but still stayed on his lap, instead, resting your forehead against his.

"Then why-?"

"I thought I was better, I-I thought it was all over but I just- I lost myself again. Everything got all foggy and I lost where I was and I just, I thought I was there but-" The floodgates opened again and you knew that Bucky had no clue what you were talking about but the words just kept coming.

Bucky's eyebrows were furrowed tightly and when your vague, confusing explanation only made his worry grow, he felt himself pulling you even tighter against him.

"Doll, Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're always walking on eggshells around me? Is that what the nightmares are about?" He struggled against the words, not wanting to say them because he didn't want to believe them and he watched in agony as you swallowed hard and nodded slowly, your hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as you continued to hold your forehead against his.

He refused to let his anger show, he wouldn't do that to you, especially with you so fragile, but he couldn't hide the pained shaky breath he let out at your confession, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry that that happened to you. Was it your ex? Did he hurt you?"

You nodded again, doing your breathing exercises, and calming yourself so that you could explain your situation fully to your partner.

"I should've told you, I know, I just, I'm so angry that I'm still like this, I just wish it would all go away and I could forget about what he did. I thought I was better. I can't stand that I'm still so haunted by that asshole" Bucky nodded along as you spoke, brushing his fingers up and down your back to help calm you.

"It's okay, Doll. Things like that don't just go away. Believe me, I wish they did too, but things will get better, I promise you that. Thank you for telling me."

You scoffed in self-deprecation, "I should've told you ages ago."

"That doesn't matter, you've told me now, and I'm sure it wasn't easy, so thank you for sharing" His voice was so gentle, his hands caressing your back almost making you feel sleepy.

"And Buck?" He hummed in response, letting you know that he was listening, "About the mission thing, I'm just worried about you. I can't lose you, I need you, and I need you alive."

A gentle smile lifted his frown and he nodded in understanding, feeling bad for getting mad in the first place, and you leaned back, looking down at him, your hands playing with his hair.

"I know. I'm sorry for being an idiot, It's just so hard to look at them and remember what they did to me and know what they've done to so many innocent people and I just lose it, all rationality out the window" You nodded at him, understanding how painful some of the missions must be.

"I'm sorry I got so upset with you, and I'm sorry I went to Sam instead of talking to you. Don't be mad at him, I kinda forced him to tell me" You gave him a sheepish look and he breathed out a small laugh, his nose crinkling like you always loved.

"It's okay doll, I'm sorry for being so careless and hiding the stuff about the missions, I promise I'll be more careful, I gotta make sure I always come home to my sweet girl. And don't worry about Sam, you deserved to know and I know what you're like."

You tutted at him and he smiled in response, the adorable, loving look on his face making you pull him into the sweetest, softest kiss which he instantly returned.

After sitting together in each others embrace for a while, the yawns eventually started. You were both positively exhausted from all the emotions you had both just experienced so Bucky wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you both from the floor, discarding the groceries still left in bags in the kitchen and carrying you to bed, holding you as close as physically possible as you both drifted off to sleep.

#bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky requests

844 notes · View notes

beccascribbles · 4 years

Note

Can i ask for a suna x reader request where the reader is the team’s manager and swear she wouldn’t date another volleyball player after her ex, but suna changes her mind? 👀👀

a/n - this ended up way longer than i intended. whoops. honestly as i wrote this, i forgot all about the original plot. he does still change her mind though! it just became more of a best friends to lovers au (which i’m a big fat lover of). anyway, hope you enjoy :)

You swore off dating volleyball players the night you turned up at his house, tears rolling down your cheeks and red eyes. Your voice was hoarse when you told him, when you told Suna you would never date another volleyball player. The tears dampened his shirt as he held you, as he listened to you rant.

Suna hated to admit it, but a part of him was glad when he saw you on his doorstep that night. It meant you had finally realised what a piece of shit you had been dating and also opened up an avenue that had been previously shut for him. However, none of that mattered when you were in front of him. Any part of him that rejoiced at your broken expression disgusted him.

"All volleyball players are shit," you sobbed, pressing your face into his chest, choosing to forget that you were currently seeking comfort in the arms of one. "Can you believe he cheated on me?"

"I always told you he was a piece of shit," drawled Suna, rubbing soothing circles into your back. You bit back another sob, landing a light smack to his shoulder.

"And you're suddenly Mr Perfect?"

"I wouldn't cheat on you."

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway," you sighed, curling into the warmth Suna provided, arms wrapping around his waist. "A volleyball player and me will never be a thing again. Fuck that. I'm not going through that pain again."

That whole night Suna was there to offer you comfort. He let you wash in his bathroom, giving you one of his favourite t-shirts and a pair of boxers to wear to bed. He even gave you his bed to sleep in, saying he would sleep on the floor. You couldn't let him do that, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into the bed beside you. Suna was also the one who called your mother, explaining that you were staying at his house tonight.

And, the next morning, you were awoken to the smell of breakfast wafting through the house, walking down the stairs to be greeted by Suna on a video call with Osamu. It was clear Osamu was instructing him on how to cook, something that Suna struggled with.

"Morning, Rin, Samu," you greeted, waving at the phone screen as you stepped into view. Osamu eyes widened slightly at the sight of your clothing. You were still dressed in Suna's clothes, and, if you didn't know why, you would admit your reaction likely would have been the same.

"Ooh, y/n," sang Atsumu's voice, his head appearing at the top of the frame as Osamu pushed him away. "What have ya -"

He was cut off by Suna's barked 'shut up'. In a quiet voice, you stated simply, "My boyfriend, ex now I suppose, cheated on me."

"Did Suna make ya forget all about that loser?" asked Atsumu, his head now back in frame and pushing against Osamu's as he tried to claim the centre of the screen.

"Sumu!" snapped Osamu, shooting him a glare as he gave him a hard slap to the back of the head.

"If letting me cry and rant to him counts, then yes," you sighed, turning away from them and heading to the cupboard to grab a glass.

"Samu," called Suna, looking up from the pan helplessly, "what do I do now?"

He held up the food to show that it was burnt, charred to the point that it was disintegrating. Osamu let out a sigh. "I can come over and cook for ya if you want."

You nodded enthusiastically in the background, letting out an enthused shout. "Yes please!"

"Okay," he nodded, standing up from where he rested on his bed. "I'll be there in a bit."

"Don't bring Atsumu," pleaded Suna.

"I'm comin’," said Atsumu, poking his tongue out at the camera before Osamu hung up. Suna let out a sigh, looking over at you apologetically. His plan for a quiet morning with you to let you recuperate and prepare to face the world again was coming to an end. Instead, you would be thrust back into it with the presence of the twins, especially Atsumu.

You stepped towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. Head pressed against his chest, you mumbled, "I really don't mind you know. I love hanging out with the twins. You know that."

"I just wanted everything to be good for you, you know?" he admitted, resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

"Like you said, he was a piece of shit. I supposed it was about time I realised that."

"Yeah," he sighed, brushing a kiss to the top of your head. "It would've been better if you hadn't been hurt in the process."

"Well hey," you said, looking up at him with a small smile playing on your lips, "at least I know who not to date so don't worry. I won't go running into the arms of anyone on the team to make me feel better."

"You can come to me though," he murmured, voice low. You looked up at him, eyebrows raising in confusion.

"What did you say?" you asked, pulling away and moving across the kitchen to grab a glass from the cupboard.

"Um...," he hesitated, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair. He refused to meet your gaze, focusing instead on a point above your head. "Just that you can run to the twins if you need, preferably Osamu but I suppose Atsumu is good for a hookup. I guess it depends on whose hair you prefer. You've always had a thing for blondes..."

"Rin, I'm going to stop you there," you laughed, holding up a hand and cutting off his tangent. "You don't need to worry. Also, where'd you get the idea that I'm into blondes?"

"Well, your last few boyfriends..."

"Personally, I've always preferred brunettes," you shrugged, heading over to the sink to fill up your glass. You let out a light giggle. "Now that I think about it, it is weird that I always end up dating blondes."

“Evidence of your horrible taste,” he teased, forever thankful that you could take any awkward comment in your stride and put him at ease. It was something so natural to you. In fact, you had grown used to his occasional odd remarks, brushing them under the rug. There were times when you would tease Suna for it, but, most of the time, you let it slide. It was a part of your best friend.

You let out a gasp, holding a hand to your heart in fake shock. But then, you shook your head, face splitting into a grin. “You’re not wrong. Maybe you’ll have to teach me how to find a nice guy.”

“I don’t know if I’m the best choice for that.”

“You don’t know that. You’re always right about how horrible anyone I show an interest in is.”

Suna might always be right, but he was always searching for the bad points of those you dated. Jealousy drove him to overlook any of the good things, like how happy they usually made you the first few weeks you were together.

“Yeah, well,” he admitted, “I’m not necessarily looking for the good things when I judge your boyfriends.”

“You’re so overprotective,” you snorted, dancing around him to take a seat at the kitchen table. He didn’t reply to that, and you glanced upwards, taking note of his furrowed brow. You decided to change the topic of conversation, taking a sip of your water. Before you could, there was a furious knocking at the front door. Suna rolled his eyes as you stated, “The twins.”

“Well done, Captain Obvious,” he teased, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and headed towards the front door. He glanced back over at you. “Are you going to change?”

“Nah, it’s fine. They’ve seen me in worse states.”

That was true, and the fact annoyed Suna whenever he dwelled on it.

Atsumu, thinking he was being funny, had snuck into the bathroom while you were showering and stole your clothing, leaving your underwear. To be fair to Atsumu, he hadn’t attempted to peek at you in your naked state. It would’ve been difficult if he had tired considering the shower curtain was drawn. If he had attempted to look, he would have been subject to Suna’s wrath, and he had a number of photos of Atsumu in compromising positions that he could release. Suna wished you had just walked to his room and taken some of his clothes. Instead, you had strode downstairs in your underwear, ignoring the looks from the team that Suna had invited over and stood over Atsumu.

“Clothes, now,” you commanded, hands resting on your hips. Suna had been quick to leap up from his position on the sofa, pulling his sweatshirt over his head and tugging it over your own, moving you like a doll as he shoved your arms into the sleeves and pulled it down to cover your lower half. Then, Suna had also fixed a glare on Atsumu.

“You’d better fucking hurry,” he said, the set of his face threatening some kind of consequence. Atsumu hadn’t wanted to find out, getting up from his seat and jogging towards the kitchen, where he thought it would be wise to hide your clothes in a cupboard.

“You’re so irritating,” you grumbled, pulling on the leggings and then removing Suna’s sweatshirt, and throwing your t-shirt on. You held the sweatshirt out to Suna. “Thanks for the cover up.”

“Did you really need to strip again?” he spluttered, blushing furiously as he took his sweatshirt back from you.

“So dramatic,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at Suna’s embarrassment. Atsumu, meanwhile, had looked like a child in a candy store.

“I always knew ya were hot, but damn,” said Atsumu, letting out a low whistle. Though you appreciated the compliment, you didn’t hesitate to give him a hard slap to the back of the head.

“Don’t steal my clothes,” you said, before your lips tugged upwards in a teasing smirk. You leant in. “If you wanted to see, all you had to do was ask.”

It was Atsumu’s turn to blush then, looking away and avoiding your gaze. Both of you were aware your statement was a lie, but he couldn’t help his reaction. Suna watched with his arms crossed, quietly seething. His chest felt tight. Then, you had looked over at him with a bright smile and asked, “You picked out the film yet?”

Suna was jerked from the memory by an increase in the knocking and a loud shout through the door. “Open the fuck up, ya idiot. I’m hungry too.”

“Shut up, Sumu,” he grumbled, swinging open the door. He nodded towards Osamu. “There should be enough food in the fridge but, if you need more, just give me a list and I’ll nip to the shop.”

“I’ll go, too,” you piped up, appearing in the corridor behind him. Atsumu sprinted forward, pulling you into a tight hug which you returned. “Okay, you big oaf. You can let go of me now.”

“If you cry, he’ll let go of ya in an instant,” said Osamu, giving your head a pat as he walked past you and into the kitchen.

“It was one time, Samu,” whined Atsumu, releasing you and following his brother into the kitchen. “I’m great at comforting girls, better than you.”

“I can cook.”

“Yeah, well,” spluttered Atsumu, “I’m hotter than you.”

“We’re identical.”

“Still hotter.”

“Identical. Twins.”

“Just like normal,” you said, grinning over at Suna as he held his head in his hands. Any plans for a quiet morning went down the drain, but, when he glanced over at you to see your smile, he couldn’t deny that he was glad the twins had come over.

That happiness dissipated when Atsumu had been kicked out of the kitchen by Osamu and sent out with you to get the rest of the ingredients. Osamu had insisted that only Suna could be trusted in the kitchen, despite burning what he tried to make earlier. Ultimately, though, Osamu wasn’t going to trust him with cooking. He had simply wanted to talk to his friend, find out what was going through his head.

“So,” Osamu said, taking a sip from the cup of tea Suna had made before continuing, “how is y/n after last night? How are you?”

“I think she’ll be fine,” Suna said, trying to decide how much he was comfortable with sharing. Letting out an exhale, he decided he might as well take the chance to explain how he was feeling. Nothing good came from bottling it up, something that had become all too clear to him when he had almost taken advantage of the alcohol to finally kiss you.

It had been on your eighteenth birthday. Using the excuse that you only turn eighteen once, you had downed drink after drink, slowly growing steadily more drunk, evidenced by the way you had zero inhibitions to jumping up onto a table and swaying your hips enticingly for all to see. Suna had frozen at the sight, the alcohol he had also drunk making him feel slightly braver. He had walked over to you, offering you his hand as he helped you jump down from the table. He leaned in, yelling to be heard over the music.

“You want to go somewhere else?”

You looked at him in confusion, your drunken mind not being able to fully process his request. All you could really concentrate on was the party, the happy buzz lighting your nerves. “Why?”

Suna had drawn in a breath, steeling himself. “I have something to give you. In private.”

The promise of a gift had caused you to loop your arm through his, letting him guide you somewhere else. It barely even registered that he had already given you his present, a beautiful necklace, an ornate and delicate star as the one charm on it. He had pressed a kiss to your cheek after being the one to place it around your neck. In fact, you were wearing it at that moment, the lights glinting off the silver.

“So, what did you want to give me?” you asked under the light of the moon. He reached forward, tracing a finger along the curve of your face. Suna’s hand stopped its movement, cupping your cheek. “Suna?”

He let out a breath that tickled your face. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his lips a whisper away before a shout broke through the relative peace of the garden.

“y/n!”

Your head turned in the direction, pulling out of Suna’s grip in the process. Atsumu stumbled towards you, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Come on. I convinced Kita to play ‘Never Have I Ever’ and he’s usually no fun at parties. You too, Suna.”

That moment between the two of you in the garden had been forgotten by you, but it replayed regularly in Suna’s mind. He buried his face into his hands, Osamu’s quiet support enough to prompt him to continue with what he was saying. “I don’t know if I will be though.”

When he looked up, his eyes were unusually vulnerable. There was a hesitation in his gaze, and Osamu waited a moment before prompting, “Why?”

As Osamu began to chop up some of the ingredients, Suna began to speak again. “She swore off dating volleyball players, and I think that extends to me. To be honest, she’s probably only ever seen me as a friend. Pathetic, right? I invest all this time into our relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I love her friendship. I’ll never take it for granted. It’s just frustrating. Do I act too friendly with her? Am I not flirty enough? Why was I friend-zoned?”

Osamu continued cutting, choosing his next words carefully. “She’s probably never thought to look at you in another way. It would make sense she doesn’t want to risk your friendship, Rin.”

“I understand that,” he sighed, “but, what can I do?”

“All you can do is try to show her how you feel and hope she realises you’re the one for her,” advised Osamu. Suna made note of this, though a part of him wondered if it was the best option. In his opinion, Suna was already showing that he had feelings for you. How could he make that more known? Seeing the uncertainty on his face, Osamu continued. “You could always ask Sumu for advice but I doubt it would be more useful than mine.”

It was some time before Suna was able to broach the topic with Atsumu, though this time with more hypotheticals than outright admissions. Your head was resting in his lap, your breathing steady as one of his hands rubbed absentminded circles into your back. You would be the first to admit you hadn’t had the best of sleep that night, falling asleep as soon as the film Osamu had chosen was playing.

“It must have been really boring if y/n’s already asleep,” teased Atsumu, giving his brother a playful shove which Osamu ignored. “She usually stays up out of pity.”

“Whatever, Sumu,” sighed Osamu, hugging a cushion to his chest as he became fully engrossed in what was unfolding on screen. It was hard to rile Osamu up when he was in his element, and, frankly, this film was one of his favourites. It made him dream of running his own chain of restaurants, though without the mafia using it as a front for drug trades.

“Hey, Atsumu,” began Suna awkwardly, immediately getting the other twin’s attention. Osamu was too focused on the film to care what was being talked about around him, something he would regret when Atsumu bragged about Suna confiding in him the whole way home. “Say you liked this girl, but she was your best friend, and swore off dating volleyball players. How would you change her mind and show her how you feel?”

“I’d just tell y/n how I feel,” he replied. “It is y/n we’re talkin’ about, yeah?”

Suna nodded, though the slight frown that twisted his face told Atsumu he wasn’t happy that he had figured it out. Atsumu simply shrugged, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

“It’s kind of obvious,” Atsumu said, glancing down at the way Suna gently brushed your hair away from your face, his other hands resting against the curve of your waist. “Anyway, she’d appreciate the honesty. No need to show her. You show her how much ya care everyday anyway. It might not change her mind straight away but havin’ it out in the open might help her come around to the idea.”

“Thanks, Sumu,” said Suna, genuinely meaning the words.

“They don’t call me the Love Maestro for nothin’,” he bragged.

“No one calls you that,” shot Osamu, tuning in for that part of the conversation. Atsumu turned to him, scandalised.

“Do too.”

“Name one person.”

“...”

“Exactly.”

Later that day, Suna walked you home, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning a bit of his weight on you as you walked. Your own arm wrapped around his waist instinctively to keep your balance. It felt so natural to walk along with him like this, something you genuinely missed when you were dating someone. It just felt disrespectful to the other person to act as you did with Suna while with them. A part of you recognised that the way you acted around each other could be construed as a relationship, but you had never thought to entertain the idea. He was just Suna, your best friend.

You came to a stop in front of your front door, and he released your shoulder in favour of wrapping both of his arms around your waist to pull you into a hug. Instantly, you relaxed against him, arms winding around his neck. When he pulled away, your hands still rested on his shoulders and you smiled up at him.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, eyes unusually soft as he stared at you. His eyes landed on the necklace around your neck, the star shining up at him from where it rested just above the neckline of your top. “I’ll see you tomorrow but if you need anything, if you just want to chat, call me, okay?”

You nodded, giving his shoulder a pat before releasing him. However, you made no move to step away and open your front door. Suna leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek. At that, he stepped off your porch, turning away from you. “Goodnight.” I love you.

“Night, Rin.”

When his phone rang at two in the morning, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting it. He was. It was normal for you to call him at random times of the night, particularly when you couldn’t get to sleep or had been awoken by a nightmare.

“Rin?” you breathed, voice quiet to avoid waking anyone up in your house. “Um, hi.”

“Morning, y/n,” he mumbled, switching you onto speaker and placing the phone down beside his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was just having trouble sleeping. Um, can you tell me a story?”

“Don’t you think we’re too old for bedtime stories?” he chuckled, though he was already shifting through his brain for a tale he could tell you that had not already been shared.

“We’re still in high school,” you protested, and he could hear the pout in your voice. “We’re not adults yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Are you ready?”

He heard the sound of movement through the speaker, the sound of you getting into bed and placing the phone on the pillow beside you.

“Ready.”

So, Suna began, telling the story of a foolish knight who had fallen for the beautiful princess, a princess who was at home when she was sparring with the knights, when she could forget about all the eligible bachelors from other kingdoms. She was a princess who ate with the Royal Guard, prepared the roster for their training sessions, and offered her support whenever she was needed.

His voice lulled you to sleep, and, before you could question what had inspired such a tale, your eyes had slipped shut and sleep had pulled you under. Suna heard your change in breathing, your soft inhales and exhales slowing until they reached a steady rhythm. He trailed off, reaching for his phone, finger hovering over the button that would end the call. He pulled his finger away, letting his hand fall back down onto the mattress. Suna fell asleep to the sound of your breathing. He could almost pretend that you were beside him.

Your phone was flat when you woke up, and you cursed, hurriedly plugging yours into the charger. You hated being late, hated not knowing what the time was as soon as you woke up. You jogged down the stairs, reading the time on the clock in the kitchen and releasing the tension in one exhale. There was plenty of time. At a more relaxed pace, you continued to prepare for the day.

It was a busy day for you as manager of the volleyball club, something that you were thankful for as it meant you couldn’t dwell on your break up. Even if you weren’t busy with your club duties, the team would provide a distraction. Atsumu and Osamu argued more as third years, the influences of Kita, Aran and the others no longer there to calm them down. Suna was no help, urging them on whenever he could and then documenting the whole affair on his phone to send photos and videos to Kita and Aran later. To be fair, you did little to break it up either, preferring to let them work out their anger. It worked, though Kita insisted there was a better way. If he wanted to come back to Inarizaki and deal with them, he could.

The sound of your phone ringing sent you running back up the stairs, dodging out of the way of a parent that had just emerged from the bathroom. Suna’s name flashed on the screen, and you accepted the call, perching on the edge of the bed.

“I guess we fell asleep on call,” he laughed, his voice rough from having just woken up. “Your phone died, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did, idiot,” you sighed. “Why didn’t you hang up once I’d fallen asleep? You usually do.”

“You sounded cute,” he admitted, glad you could not see the flush that dusted his cheeks. “Plus, I figured you would be smart enough to have it plugged in if I was.”

“Not a valid excuse,” you quipped, resting your head in the palm of your hand. With a laugh, you said, “I panicked this morning thinking I would be late. The coaches wanted me to meet with them before class. You don’t know how pleased I was when I walked down the stairs to see I still had a while before I had to leave the house.”

“Sorry about that,” he muttered sheepishly before clearing his throat. “Is it charged now?”

You glanced down at your phone screen. “It’s at about 20% so it’s probably not going to last the whole day.”

“You can use mine if you need to. It is kind of my fault after all.”

“Kind of?” you questioned, humour in your tone. “Don’t worry though. It should be fine if I leave it off until I need to use it.”

“Just let me know if you need to borrow it, okay?” he insisted. “We have late practice.”

“Yeah, I know, got to make sure you lot are prepared for nationals. No losing to Karasuno this year.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I’ll walk you home, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it, Rin,” you said. “My phone will last till then. Plus, you’ll be tired after practice. I’d be a bad manager if I didn’t make you go straight home to eat.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he argued. “Besides, I can just eat at your house. Your parents say that I’m always welcome.”

“But then you’ll be going home too late. Won’t your mum be worried?”

“She’ll be fine. I usually stay out late, or are you forgetting the nights I’ve snuck over to yours and we’ve gone on midnight walks?”

“Fine,” you sighed, letting him win this time. “Don’t complain to me if you’re tired at school tomorrow.”

“When am I not half-asleep?”

“I’ll see you at school, Rin.”

“See you.”

There was no arguing with Suna over things like this. He was stubborn to a fault when it came to your safety. You might have been able to convince him to head straight home if your phone was fully charged. When that was the case, he insisted on staying on the phone with you the whole way, not feeling comfortable at the thought of you walking home alone in the dark. Suna wasn’t overbearing. If you honestly didn’t want him walking you home or calling you, he wouldn’t so long as you messaged him when you got home. But, you liked talking to him. That was the simple truth. You enjoyed spending time with Suna, and enjoyed talking to him. It was only Suna who wanted something more.

“So,” asked Atsumu, slinging an arm over Suna’s shoulder yanking him closer, “when are ya goin' to tell her?”

“Tell who?” asked Osamu. The look Suna shot him made him nod his head in realisation. “Ah, y/n… Wait, tell her? What happened to just showin’ her how you feel?”

“If that was going to work, it would’ve already,” said Atsumu, puffing out his chest proudly. “As Suna and I discussed, comin' clean and confessing is the best way forward.”

“I hate to say it, but he had a point Samu,” agreed Suna, sliding out from under Atsumu’s arm. “Anyway, I’m not going to tell her anytime soon. She’s had enough to deal with. She doesn’t need her best friend confessing to her straight after a rough break up. It’s almost nationals time as well. Confessing might throw off the team dynamic and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I think you’re just being a pussy,” declared Atsumu, lips quirking upwards in a teasing smirk.

“I think you’re being smart,” said Osamu. “Wait until the best time.”

All Suna had done, was continuing to do, was wait. However, he made a concerted effort to be there for you more often, being the shoulder you would lean on for support. Unknown to you consciously, a part of you had begun to reciprocate Suna’s feelings. On occasion, it would be you who would reach out for him, locking your pinkies together and sharing a secret smile across the lunch table.

Over the course of the next few months, there were many late night phone calls, which quickly transformed into video chats. He listened to you, helped you work through the residual feelings from your break up. Being cheated on had left you feeling inferior, and Suna had been there to build you back up.

One day, you turned to face your friend Reo, hardly believing the words that fell from your lips. “Tell me honestly. Do you think I’m falling for another volleyball player?”

“Another one?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. Then, the realisation finally seemed to hit her and she let out a gasp. “Suna?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, resting your chin on top of your open palm. “Am I just projecting? Do I really have feelings for him or am I just craving that kind of emotional connection with someone? Plus, it’s Suna. He’s my best friend.”

“Is that all he is to you, though?” she questioned, studying you. “I know he’s your best friend, but I am too. Who did you seek comfort from after your break up? Who do you fall asleep with over the phone every night? Did you ever act the same with people you were in a relationship with that you do with Suna? I mean, I know you haven’t kissed him or anything but you are more physically affectionate and open with him than people you’ve been in a relationship with. I know you’re going to be stubborn about this, say that’s just how you’ve always been, but I want you to think about how you treat each other. If you want my honest opinion, I’d say the feelings have always been there, especially on Suna’s part.”

You blinked at Reo, taking in what she was saying. It made you contemplate, think back on specific moments in your friendship with Suna where it was possible you had crossed some invisible line that you weren’t supposed to. But every moment with Suna felt so natural you couldn’t pinpoint where the line would be, let alone when you would have crossed it. It became clear to you then. You had feelings for Suna Rintaro. There went your vow to never date another volleyball player again.

If only Suna had realised you had made this realisation already. He could have stopped planning out how to confess to you with Osamu and Atsumu, their idea involving him reducing his contact with you until everything was prepared. That fact itself was easier said than done, and they couldn’t control what he did in the quiet of his home (which was find any excuse to phone you and talk to you).

That night, he asked you, “Can you be ready for one in the afternoon tomorrow? I have something planned that I hope you’ll like.”

“Sure,” you agreed. “I have something I want to say to you as well.”

He felt anxiety grip him at your statement, fearing the worst. His fingers tightened around the phone, his breath catching in his throat. You could hear his struggle through the phone and reassured, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you don’t think it is. I’ve just finally realised something and want to tell you in person.”

"Okay," he breathed, though the knot of anxiety in his chest didn't loosen. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good sleep. Love you."

"Night, Rin," you replied, feeling your heart flutter slightly at his words. The words had been said before in passing, but always with Suna firmly placed as a friend. "Love you too."

At one the next day, you were sat waiting for him on your front step, fiddling with your phone in your hands. You had just spoken to Reo for advice, her words soothing your nerves. She had told you it was clear that Suna wanted to admit something too, and, for some reason, having that knowledge outlined for you by another put you at ease.

Seeing him approaching, you rose from your seated position, gesturing for him to wait for you on the pavement. Suna came to a stop, holding out his arms for a hug. You were quick to relax into his hold, arms giving his own waist a squeeze before letting go. Smiling up at him with unusual silence, you asked, “Can I tell you something before we go? I just think you deserve to know.”

He hesitated. A part of him was curious, wanted to know, but the rest of him feared that your news would ruin what he had planned. Suna wanted to confess to you before you revealed whatever you had realised. “Um, can I show you what I planned first? It’s kind of important.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how it could be so important that he didn’t want to hear what you said. At the nervous look in his eyes, you took his hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Still holding his hand, you pulled him after you, moving with confidence though you had no idea what direction Suna wanted to take you in. He pulled you to a stop, shooting you a smirk. “Wrong way, idiot.”

“It’s not like I can read your mind,” you sighed, throwing your arms up in exasperation. You gave him a grin. “Want to take the lead?”

“With pleasure,” he said, choosing to release his hold on your hand and drape his arm over your shoulder. In response, your own wrapped around his waist and you fell into step beside him.

The sight that greeted you was unexpected and took your breath away. It was oddly beautiful in a simple way, something no one had ever thought to put together for you before, despite its relative simplicity. You looked up at him, mouth dropping open in shock and disbelief. “You really went through the trouble of setting up a picnic for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied. “You said you always wanted to go on a picnic with someone you love. I figured I counted at least a little bit.”

“You definitely count,” you said, giving him a slight nudge with your elbow. “I’d probably rather do this with you anyway. On another note, who made the food? Because you can’t cook for shit.”

“Osamu might have helped a little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Maybe more than a little bit, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Whatever you say, Rin,” you grinned, wandering over to sit on the blanket. He sank onto the floor beside you, leaning his side against your own. You relaxed against his warmth, letting your head drop against his shoulder. His own head dropped to rest against yours, his hand reaching out to hold yours, tangling your fingers together.

For a moment, you sat in silence, cherishing just being together. Suna cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Before we eat, I have something to say to you. Can you promise whatever I say to you won’t change what we have right now?”

You looked up at him with concern. “I promise.”

Suna drew in a deep breath, releasing your hand and moving to sit in front of you. You let yourself miss the warmth of his body pressed against you, knotting your fingers together as you allowed your eyes to meet his. The hesitation in his face was clear, and you reached forward, resting a hand on his knee.

“Just tell me,” you reassured, smiling at him softly. “Nothing can change how I feel about you.”

“Okay,” he sighed, reaching forward, and clasping the hand you had rested on your knee. In that moment, he went for the bluntest approach. “I have feelings for you.”

You blinked over at him in shock, your grip on his hand tightening. That hadn’t been what you were expecting to hear, but hearing the words made your heart flutter. It made it so much easier to admit what you had finally realised. “I have feelings for you too.”

“Wait, you do?” said Suna, eyes widening in shock. This was far more than he could have hoped for. You nodded slowly, unable to help the own smile that pulled at your lips in response to his own.

Suna moved closer to you, letting his hand come up to rest against your face. He cupped it carefully, his thumb brushing against your cheek. Slowly, giving you the option to pull away he leaned in, only to let out a small gasp in shock when your hands gripped his top and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his. His hands slipped into your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, letting out a low groan of satisfaction at the feel of your hands slipping under the material of his top and rest against his bare skin.

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

“Hope it was worth it,” you giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. He captured your lips once again, kissing you softly, delicately.

“More than worth it,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. You fell into his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. It was still racing now, even though you had accepted his advances. You lifted your head up, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Want to eat the food Samu made now?” you questioned, turning in his hold and resting your back against his chest. His stomach let out a low grumble. You leaned forward, grabbing a plate of food and letting out a giggle. “I suppose I’ll take that as an answer then.”

3K notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic)

(GIF credit to @aryaofoldstones)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I saw your looking for Bridgerton requests, I would love some Benedict x Eloise sibling fluff! They have such a good dynamic in the show and I need more’

(I wouldn’t mind making another part of this if people want it tbh)

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise’s gloved hands clung onto her book as she and her family arrived at yet another social event, a ball once again. Her mama had ensured she was dressed to catch the eyes of men, and Eloise knew that meant there would be no room for intelligent conversation. With Daphne now married to the Duke, Eloise had more pressure on her shoulders than she imagined, having to find a suitor of similar standards. However, it wasn’t just her on the market, her brothers were too, especially Benedict (Violet knew it would be extremely difficult to marry off Anthony first, opting for the second eldest son).

Eloise smiled whenever her mama looked her way, though it quickly disappeared once she turned around. Benedict had been instructed to escort her sister around the ball to help seek out suitors, the men knew each other or something about someone; he could help her meet the right one.

“I cannot believe I am here.” Eloise moaned as she looped her arm through her brothers.

“Believe me sister, I do not wish to be here either.”

“Why must you parade me around like a horse at a dressage in order to find a new owner?” Eloise kept catching the men’s gazes, turning up her nose in disgust.

“So dramatic.” he chuckled.

She scoffed.“Well, if you’re going to advise me on who I should be marrying, I shall do the same for you. Now let’s see...”

Eloise looked around the room at all the women, wondering who would be the best match for her brother. Most of these women had no personalities, relying on their outfits to express themselves. Eloise knew of some ladies that were nice, though had nothing in common with her brother.

Eloise shrugged, tugging on her brother’s arm towards the door.“Ah, there’s no one here for us. Let us make haste and leave-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Benedict pulled her back,“we have been strictly told to stay for the night, even if it is just to socialise and...get our names out there.”

Eloise groaned a little too loudly, Ben ducking his head in embarrassment.“How long do these balls go on for?”

“I have never stayed for the full duration.”

“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”

Benedict glanced down at her, somehow only just realising that Eloise had brought a book with her.“Is that book sewed to your hand sister?”

“I brought it just in case I became bored. Which I am already.”

“I shall go and grab us some refreshments. Might as well enjoy them whilst we’re here.”

Eloise let her brother slip away, quickly finding a hiding spot by leaning up against a wall, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds. She opened her book, continuing where she left off, happy she brought a pencil to scribble down notes for later. The studying never stopped for Eloise.

“Excuse me?” a woman’s voice interrupted her too soon.

Eloise tried her best to be polite, though her smile came off as sarcastic.“Yes?”

“Sorry,” the woman looked taken back,“I thought you were reading a book that I am reading at the moment, but I was wrong. I’ve disturbed you, I shall leave you alone-”

“Wait,” Eloise had now sparked an interest. No other lady had ever approached her like this,“I don’t mean to be rude. What book had you expected?”

“It’s oh so obvious, but I’ve been reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. It’s the newest book out at the moment, and my mama lets me read it seeing as it involves a woman finding someone to marry. Although, it’s definitely about something deeper, that’s just what I told her.”

“I don’t indulge in romantic novels myself, but I am glad to hear of a female author selling her work.”

“It’s fantastic. And it’s nice to be able to read something without it being snatched out of my hands. Oh, where are my manners? I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Sorry, I’ve been dancing with men all night and none of the conversations have been as riveting as this so far.”

“Why am I not surprised?” they both laughed.“I’m Eloise Bridgerton.”

(Y/N) tried to not show her shock when she heard the surname. They were only the most talked about family, her mama had gone on and on about them, especially when Lady Whistledown mentioned them in her writings.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Might I ask what it is that you are reading?”

“It is to do with my studies. I truly hate these events, so I thought I would ensure my mind was being worked properly.” Eloise realised that could come off as rude, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.“I did not mean to offend you by that.”

“It really isn’t any bother.” (Y/N) giggled.“I rather enjoy these just for the dancing and drinks, I find promenading to be more successful in finding a suitor. Though I would much rather sneak off and see if I can get a few more pages in of a book I shouldn’t be reading.”

“Eloise, why must you go wondering off like that...” Benedict’s words trailed off as he approached his sister, spotting a beautiful woman stood by her.

Eloise’s eyes flickered between the two, and she smiled when she saw the adoration in her brother’s eyes. Cheekily taking the two glasses from his hands, she passed one to (Y/N), who awkwardly took it. (Y/N) had gazed upon the Bridgerton men in passing, they were very nice to look at. Of course, she never divulged in any fantasies about them, that would be silly. But seeing one in front of her had taken her breath away.

“Thank you brother.” Eloise said, taking a sip.“This is Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a new friend of mine.”

He gently took her free hand in his, bending forwards slightly to kiss it. (Y/N) had this done to her many times, but this was different. Benedict made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Eloise could tell her mama was going to love this.

She cleared her throat.“We were just speaking of art, actually.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows.“We were talking about books.”

“I was about to move the topic along.”

“What kind of art would that be then?” Benedict asked, knowing what game his sister was playing.

“The...drawing, kind.”

“Isn’t all art drawn?”

“No, it is also painted.”

“I think artists may sketch out a rough idea before painting.”

“Well you would know brother, seeing as you yourself are an artist.”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“You paint, Lord Bridgerton?” (Y/N) asked.

“Ah, yes, and I sketch.” he hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red.

“Anything in particular?”

“Mostly people.”

“Are you both attending the art exhibition my family are holding next week?”

“That’s your families’ exhibit?” Benedict became excited.

“Yes, my father collects a lot of art work. Then mother realised she could make a social event out of it, but at least everyone will be able to admire the work.”

“Would you believe it, we already have it noted down in our social calendar!” Eloise informed (Y/N). Benedict could sense her over-reacting, trying to keep a smile as (Y/N)’s face lit up in excitement.

“Perfect!” (Y/N) looked back up at Ben, making him stand a little taller.“It will be nice to have someone there who knows about the artwork. It will make for an interesting conversation. Just don’t let my father lecture you, he will talk for far too long! And I know you will be too polite to try and get away.”

“My brother is very polite.” Eloise said.“In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t-”

“Excuse me for the intrusion,” a young man said from beside (Y/N),“but I was wondering if we could resume our dance lady (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) was smiling, but Eloise knew that look; it was the face women made when a man who made them uncomfortable approached, but they had to remain ladylike and polite.

“Actually my brother just asked her and she said yes. You two best make your way to the floor before the music starts again.” Eloise nudged her brother.

Benedict was confused at his sisters offer, until he locked eyes with (Y/N) again. They were pleading him to sweep her away, she was even leaning away from this man. He had been disrespectful in some way, and he wasn’t letting (Y/N) go through that again (despite only knowing the girl for a few minutes). He smugly smiled at the man, holding out his arm which (Y/N) took a little too quickly. Eloise was happy with herself as the pair walked off, sending the man a death glare when he asked her to dance instead. Once he left, her eyes went back to find her brother, who was already dancing with (Y/N), both smiling and laughing. Her mama was going to be ecstatic about this.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise sat in the drawing room, obviously lounging with a book. Her younger siblings were being irritating as usual, running around her in circles. Before they arrived, she had peace. Eloise wanted a few moments alone, because she knew her mama would be bursting with questions about the night before.

“Ah, there you are.” Violet said as she walked in.

The book flopped into Eloise’s lap, a frown on her face. There goes her reading time.

“So, how was last night? Did you meet anyone?” her mama sat beside her.“You two, go play outside if you’re going to run around please.”

The children stopped as their mama spoke, sending each other devilish grins before they ran out of the room again, their giggling echoing down the halls. Violet went to shout after them, but decided to leave it be, there were more pressing matters.

“Well mama, do you see any suitors?” Eloise gestured around her.

Violet sighed.“Did you even try last night?”

“My life will not be reduced to a single night where I was forced to peacock around in order to please a man.”

“Oh, Eloise, must you make everything so dramatic?”

“Funny, Benedict said the same thing.”

“Actually, where is your brother? I have not seen him all morning.”

“He went out.” Eloise was relieved that the focus would now be off of her.“He’s calling upon a lady.”

Violet’s eyes widened.“What? When? Who?”

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N)? They are quite reputable.”

Eloise rolled her eyes.“Mama, she is a lovely girl. I don’t think you should just judge her on what family she comes from.”

“Oh, so you approve of this girl?”

“I...I mean...Well, I only spoke with her for a mere few minutes.”

“But?”

Eloise let out a huff.“I enjoyed her company. I think Benedict likes her. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night until it was time to leave. He spent all his time with her.”

Violet became overjoyed.“Oh, what marvelous news! I wish he had told me. Do you know what he took to her? Flowers? Food?”

“I have no idea mama. Just wait for his return and he will tell you all the details. I am not a psychic.”

Violet was impatient as she awaited the return of her son. Poor Collin had also been questioned when he showed up in the drawing room, but he had overslept in bed, waking with a terrible headache. It seemed that it was about to come back to him when his mama bombarded him with questions as to why he hadn’t called upon anyone that morning. Eloise kept her giggles quiet, ducking behind her book when Collin sent her daggers.

Poor Benedict had no idea what was in store for him. His cheeks were aching from how much he was smiling. He wasn’t surprised when he arrived at the (Y/L/N)’s house and saw multiple callers for (Y/N). However, jealousy rose inside him when he thought about these men dancing with her, trying to convince her that they were the man to marry. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers, remembering that (Y/N) had mentioned her favourite the night before. Looking around at any other flowers she received, he was glad to see no other gentleman had chose it. Surely that would show he was listening? He endured sonnets, stories, songs and boasting from the other men, trying not to show his dissatisfaction as each one stepped forward. There was pressure that her parents were there, especially when he realised he was the last gentleman, everyone else had left.

(Y/N) had been incredibly anxious when she saw Benedict that morning. He had been the only man she genuinely smiled at, hoping he came at his own will, not forced by his mama. The night before had been the best ball (Y/N) had ever been to. Benedict was sweet, charming, handsome and interesting. They were able to talk about anything and everything, no small talk involved like all the other men she danced with. He had swooned her, and here he was, calling upon her.

Back at the Bridgerton house, Violet had not sat down since talking Collin’s ear off. Eloise was still in the drawing room with her, as were her two youngest siblings, munching on biscuits as they threw questions at their mama. She did not have all the answers, sometimes not even hearing them speak for she was too deep in her thoughts. At one point, she did sit, but beside the window, o the lookout for any signs of her son. When a carriage pulled up in front of the house, Violet leapt out of her seat, startling her children. She made a beeline to the door, standing there with her hands clasped together. When Benedict walked in, he too flinched, not expecting his mama to be there.

“Mama, how long have you been stood there?” Benedict asked as he walked past her, pinching a biscuit from his brother’s plate.

“She’s been waiting for you.” Eloise explained, also excited to hear about his calling.

“I hope you sat down at some point.” he joked, sitting beside Eloise and slouching.

Violet hurried to sit on the sofa across him.“You didn’t tell me you were calling on a lady this morning.”

“Well, we got back late from the ball yesterday evening, and I had to leave early to ensure I got there in good time. Though it seemed every other man thought that too.”

“There were many men there?”

“Yes, quite a few.”

Eloise straightened up at her brother’s grumpy expression.“You really like her!”

“How wonderful!” Violet gushed.

“Do not get ahead of yourselves.”

“But you do, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have called on her.”

Ben was lost for words. He couldn’t argue with that, and he did like seeing his mama happy.“Yes, yes I do. And it would seem she reciprocates the feelings.”

“This is such good news! I must see what our social calendar looks like, we must ensure you two spend time together.”

“Actually mama-” Eloise went to tell her about the art exhibit until Ben interrupted.

“Good idea mama.” he nodded, smiling at her as she walked away, a spring in her step. Once she was gone, he let out a big breath.“I just needed a moment without questions from her.”

“Well, you’re going to have questions from me.” Eloise angled her body to face him, her elbow perched on the sofa with her face resting in her hand.“I didn’t think you were going to call upon her. Are my match making skills really that good?”

“I hate to admit it, but yes, you have done an excellent job.” Benedict felt relaxed thinking about (Y/N).

“So, what happened this morning?”

“I took her flowers, she told me her favourites last night, and then I had to sit there whilst her other gentleman callers desperately tried to impress her. It was agony! Finally I was able to have time with her, and it was just...I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Did you bring her anything else?”

Benedict became bashful.“I brought her a sketchbook, like the one I have. She mentioned how she used to often sketch when she was younger. I thought it would be a unique gift.”

“Benedict, you truly are a romantic at heart.”

“For her I am, yes.”

Eloise smiled for her brother, until a smirk fell on his face.“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Aw, is someone also a secret romantic?”

��No!” Eloise protested, quickly grabbing her book again.“I am just happy you found someone.”

“And you helped, because you secretly want everyone to find someone.”

“No I don’t! You’re ruining this moment now Benedict.”

“Don’t worry Eloise, you’ll find someone.” Ben joked.

She groaned.“You are insufferable...but I still want to go to that art exhibit.”

“To see love bloom?”

“N-no, to see the art work.”

“Of course, of course. But, thank you Eloise.”

She tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it.“You’re welcome.”

2K notes · View notes

iwadori · 3 years

Text

Haikyu boys when they take a joke/prank too far (Iwaizumi,Daichi)

Word count: 1.9K

Genre:angst,fluff

AN: In the spirit of April Fools I tried to make my first work based on that I hope you enjoy!! (LOL I can’t actually believe this was the first thing I’ve ever written)

Iwaizumi:

“Okay so it’s April Fools Day who are we going to prank?” asked Makki “One of the first years?”

“Do we have to prank someone this year..” replied Iwaizumi “so childish”

“Iwa-Chan!” Oikawa said “Don’t be such a spoil sport.”

“Anyways, it can’t be a first year they’re boring to prank a first year coach will be mad at us, we need someone else.”

Just then, you enter the gym, catching their eye as you approach the group sitting on Iwaizumi’s lap “Hey babe, I can still come over to yours to study right?” you ask.

“Yeah of course, practice finishes early so I'll be there before you.” He said

“Alright, see you then bye babe, bye guys” you said, giving Iwaizumi a kiss on the cheek sauntering off and waving at Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa.

“bye Y/N!” They teasingly responded in unison making you laugh.

As they watched you leave, it seemed as if a lightbulb pinged off in all of their heads (besides Iwaizumi) realizing who would be a great person to prank.

After a lot of convincing, they finally got Iwaizumi in on the ‘harmless’ plan, all they needed to do now is wait on your arrival.

You’re finally done with school after a long and tiring day of exams upon exams and wanting nothing more than to cuddle with your boyfriend (after he teaches you Pythagoras theorem of course.) You did think he was acting weird when you met him this morning in the gym and throughout break and lunch but you just concluded that it was because he was having an ‘off’ day.

You reached his house and used a copy of his key that he gave you to enter we just enter houses up in this bitch calling out his name “Zumi-babe, I'm here...”

“Lets get this shit over with” you said tiredly

Upon entering, you notice none of the lights being on or curtains drawn ‘odd’ you think. You go upstairs going straight to his room hopefully to find your boyfriend in his bed or on his Xbox or something. To your surprise his bedroom door was somehow locked shut (even though not having a lock on his door anyways.) Suddenly, you hear creaks slowly trailing up the stairs and an eerie feeling surrounds you... now you start to feel pretty panicked jiggling the door handle to Iwaizumi’s door as it’s practically the only place you can go.

AN: I hate what I’m writing rn but onwards we right

The footsteps on the stairs start to quicken, and you almost certain that you felt something brush pass your shoulder only adding onto the panic and anxiety that you already feel. Ok, the footsteps on the stairs are basically right near you, so doing the only logical thing you can do you body slam the ‘person’ on the stairs as you motherfuckin should as tears fill your eyes and you pick up bag bolting through the front door, slamming it shut now in full tears and shakingly scared.

You look behind you and see Iwaizumi’s front door re-open and out comes the ‘iNFaMouS sEiJOh fOuR’ in tears... of laughter. It seems that the boys were in laughing fits that their prank ‘payed off’ getting a reaction out of you. You couldn’t see Iwaizumi’s reaction, but you didn’t care you were hurt, annoyed and wanting to get into your bed.

Once you get home, you decide to block your so called ‘friends’ who decided to make you scared shitless and ignored Iwaizumi’s messages asking “where were you today”.... the AUDACITY.

The next day, the boy’s seemed to realize the consequences of their actions after spending the whole day trying to get your attention only to be straight up ignored. Iwaizumi is immensely regretful after all his efforts to try talking to you were denied, he decided after his practice he was going to get you to talk to him or at least get you to listen to his apologies on what happened yesterday evening.

You left your clubroom and made your way to the school gate to go home.

“Y/N!” shouted Iwaizumi touching your shoulder making you flinch ‘wow did we really scare her that bad?”

“What do you want iwa?” You asked very agitated

“Y/N I just want to apologize for yesterday, since it was April fools day and all the boys really wanted to prank someone and I-it just happened to be-”

“It just happened to be me. Right?” you interrupted “Gosh Iwaizumi, I was really scared.. I already had a tiring day and all I wanted was my boyfriend to teach me the stupid Pythagoras Theorem and cuddle me afterwards, but no you and your friends just had to be dicks for a day” you turn around planning to walk away before he grabs you again

“Wait! Just wait y/n, im sorry and I wont ever prank you like that again” he pleaded

“.. and i’ll help you study?” he added pulling the sweetest face of all time to try and convince you

“ugh, fine stop pulling that face... and you better teach me Pythagoras Theorem” you said rolling your eyes

“yeah yeah whatever you say y/n” he said pulling you under his arm and walking in the direction of his house.

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way this turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work

Daichi:

You decided this morning that you were NOT going to participate in your annual April Day Fool’s prank with Tanaka and Noya... only because of your not-so new boyfriend Daichi saying he didn’t need his teammates corrupting you any longer so you decided to not get involved. With that being said you wouldn’t even think of your boyfriend pulling a prank on you so you didn’t think you’re getting pranked today.

In the gym, the boys were doing the usual: Hinata and Kageyama running after eachother, Tanaka and Noya oogling Kiyoko, Tsukishima listening to music, Yama and Yachi going over club schedules whilst Daichi sat with Sugawara and Asahi.

“So are you pranking anyone today?” sugawara asked

“Pranking someone, isn’t that a bit too juvenile suga?” Asahi replied

“Not you silly, Daichi” said sugawara “With Y/N on his arm they always have to stay on eachothers toes right..she’s a ‘jokester’ right?”

“...right?” Daichi hadn’t thought of it that way, he did know of all your joking escapades before you even got together and how you still liked to joke around now as you date.. He didn’t want you to think that you thought he was too boring for you ?

“Ok. What type of prank should I pull on her..”

Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi (who didn’t really contribute to Suga’s scheming) made a plan for you to meet him at the gym locker with the claims that he had a ‘surprise’ for you .. oh how he was wrong.

Daichi: meet me at the gym locker I have something to show you

Y/N: Ok!! I’ll be there in 5 minutes

Daichi was nervous, and that was an understatement he didn’t want things to go left and have you thinking he couldn’t even do a simple prank. Once you got there, he saw heard you talking to Sugawara and Asahi outside the door about him wondering where he was in which Suga told you inside the locker room.

“Hey babe” you greeted “what's the occasion in why we’re in here?”

“I...uh..um I need to get something one second” Daichi spoke quickly and rushed out the room closing the door leaving you confused. Minutes passed, and you were now impatient and kinda scared since the room was dusty, dark and cold definitely not your place to be in. You tried texting Daichi but just your luck you have no service ://

As time went on you tried opening the door but it was jammed shut no hope opening at all you forgot you left your bag outside which of course had your inhaler which did not help the sudden shortness of breath you started to get because of your asthma and claustrophobia. All you wanted was to get out of this room and talk to … Daichi.

Daichi. How convenient that he manage to slip away before the door got closed hmm but he wouldn’t intentionally prank you after ALL the lectures he gave you about not doing pranks this year right?

You didn’t notice how you started to cry and whimper wanting to leave.

On the outside, Daichi heard your cries and ordered Sugawara and Asahi to find the key to immediately get you out which it seems to take a while because Daichi has now stopped hearing your tears making him gulp in fear thinking something bad has happened to you in there.

Sugawara comes to you handing Daichi the keys, his handing shaking as he tries to unlock the door when he eventually does he finds you passed out on the ground of the dusty storage room. Very cliché I know ://

You wake up in the Nurses Office a bit confused on how you got there until your eyes land upon Daichi, remembering how you locked you in the Storage room where you had an asthma attack and passed out. You turned your body away from Daichi not wanting to talk to him right now after the hypocrisy he did.

“Y/N.. Are you alright?” He asked

“Do I look alright?” You responded in a bored tone

“I am really sorry Y/N... I know what I said to you about not doing pranks this year but Sugawara roped me into this and I didn’t want you to think I was too boring for you so I thought doing this prank would make you see me in a different light” he said

“yeah i saw you in a different light alright” you sassed, you then realised what he said ‘too boring’ kind of feeling less mad and more sad that he feels this way “Dai, you’d never be to boring for me … you’re one of the most funness is that a word? guys I've ever met.”

“really?” he asked

“Of course! I’m kind of still mad at you for letting this happen but I do sort of understand why” you said giving him a hug.

You were eventually cleared to go home and as you left the clinic you saw Asahi and Sugawara standing at the door.

“Y/N WE’RE SORRY” they bowed to you waiting on your responses

You chuckled slightly at their cuteness and ruffled both of their hair “all is forgiven, just make sure there’s ‘pranks’ this year “

Which they agreed upon.

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way these turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work. Feedback is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED and request too since I will literally write whatever...

I may do a part 2 … any particular characters people want?

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu-fluff #haikyu angst #iwaizumi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi x you #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime #sugawara scenario #daichi scenario #signedwithane😌

887 notes · View notes

writtenwhalien · 3 years

Text

All of You | 03

pairing ↠ ceo!jimin x reader

genre ↠ friends to lovers | arranged marriage AU (fluff, angst, smut)

word count ↠ 14,223

18+ | warnings ↠ references to sex, mentions of classism and social hierarchy which causes reader to experience some anxiety, mentions of the reader’s difficult past including familial financial struggles, mentions of arranged marriage, angst... we meet Jimin’s grandparent’s and they’re very classist.

summary ↠ Park Jimin is your definition of perfect. He’s talented, handsome, and dedicated to everything he does, making him the man of your dreams. But what happens when you both wake up one day and realise that’s all you had together… a short dream?

series masterlist

A/N: damn, this took me a whole month 🤦🏻‍♀️ I’ve definitely been struggling with my writing recently but I only do this as a hobby and I can’t expect to be perfect *big sigh*. I’m going to try to finish (emphasis on the try) the series before I post the next part because writing as I go along is not for me! so please bear with me aoy readers 😭 also, when you get to the part with the fax machine... I have no idea how they work but for the sake of fiction and this story, they work how I want them to 😂 namjoon’s wife is unnamed as ___ because she will be the oc of the spin-off I’m planning to tell his story! oh, and it’s also unedited so please gloss over any mistakes :)

Glowing rays of sunlight pour in through the gap in the curtains, casting a warm glow on your peaceful face which Jimin has been admiring for the last ten minutes he’s been lying awake, basking in the perfection of this moment.

He shifts closer, careful not to wake you but so he’s close enough that he can feel the warmth as you breathe softly.

The events of last night are imprinted in his mind — the way you looked in that dress, the way you smiled at him, the way you danced with him, the way you held onto him, the way you kissed him, and the way you whispered those three words against his skin.

Right before he uttered them himself.

Jimin has no doubt about his feelings for you. He loves you, and he has done so for a while. When he first started falling for you, he thought it was nothing more than a crush; you’re hard working, beautiful, and kind, with all the qualities Jimin has always been attracted to.

But as the months passed, he found himself drawn to you in every way. He wanted to know more about you — your likes, your dislikes, your dreams, everything that makes you happy, everything that makes you sad. And the more time he spent with you, the more he found himself wanting to be a part of your life. He wanted to surprise you with the little things that make you smile, he wanted to be there for you every step of the way as you achieve your dreams, he wanted to share in your happiness, and he wanted to protect you from everything that makes you sad.

He still wants all of that. He still feels all of that. And he’s never felt this way about anyone, ever before. He’s never been this sure of his feelings for someone until you.

It’s taken him by surprise, how often he thinks about you, craves your company, dreams of you. His heart and mind are full of you so often that you’ve become a part of him — he feels it in the way his pulse quickens around you, his body longing to have you and to call you his own.

It’s the only thing he wants most in the world.

You.

And yet, while in this happy moment with you, Jimin can’t ignore the quiet feeling that nags him, reminding him that his life has never been this simple.

Everything he’s done has always been with his family’s best interest at heart, and for the company. And Jimin has never once questioned it because it’s made him a better man; his values are rooted with a sense of pride in his family — without whom he wouldn’t be here today.

And he’s always grateful for that. He loves his parents, his grandparents and he knows they only want what is best for him. And even when his dad first told him that he would need to start considering marriage, he didn’t think much of it. He already knew then, that he would never find anyone himself; he imagined his grandparents would set him up on a few dates with someone they thought appropriate, and whoever Jimin felt a connection with, he would see where it goes and eventually end up with them.

But then you came into his life.

And nothing has ever been the same for Jimin.

He finds himself thinking about you all the time, and he always thinks of a happy future with you. He knows it’s a premature thought, but he can’t help it when he thinks of marrying you, having kids with you, growing old with you.

Every time you mention Sung-ho, he sees how your face lights up and he thinks you would make an amazing mother. And each time, he thinks about how wonderful it would be if you would be the mother of his children.

It was just a fantasy before—a dream of his. But now…

Now Jimin knows you feel the same way about him and everything seems possible.

Even the idea of introducing you to his grandparents as his girlfriend, and one day, his wife.

Although knowing his dad spoke to you yesterday upsets him, and wants to speak to his dad about it, but for now, he wants to focus on spending time with you, alone.

Jimin watches as you stir in your sleep, slowly growing restless beneath the covers. And after a few moments, you begin coming to your senses, eyelids fluttering open.

“Oh my God,” you mumble, still groggy but you realise you were probably an embarrassing mess just now. “Jimin, were you watching me sleep?” you ask, pulling the covers up to hide your face, but you still break out into a smile, as you remember—you’re lying in Jimin’s bed with him.

“Maybe,” he says, a playful lilt to his voice. “I was wondering how long it would take you to realise you were drooling in your sleep.”

“What?!” You look up at him in slight horror, still careful not to show your face, even though he’s already seen you.

Jimin laughs, shifting closer and bringing his arms around you. “I’m just kidding, kind of. But anyway, I don’t care.” Tugging the covers away from your face, Jimin smiles softly.

Your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but you don’t look away, instead you remember everything he said to you yesterday — how loving and reassuring he was with you throughout all that happened.

You lower your head into the warmth of his neck. “Thanks… and thanks for yesterday.”

Pulling you closer, Jimin starts playing with your hair. “You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. I love every second of being with you… I just love you.”

His words remind you how very real this is — how happy he makes you and how badly you’ve wanted this. And yet, still, you can’t block out the voice whispering in the back of your mind that you’re still in the running to get hurt, just as Mr Park has warned you.

But you won’t listen to it. You can’t.

Last night you came into Jimin’s apartment fully aware of any possible consequences of tonight, and you’re willing to accept them if it means you can enjoy his presence as you are now. Even if it is just for a short while. But you so desperately hope it isn’t.

Your arms wrap around Jimin’s bare torso and you look up, beaming. “I like it when you say that.”

“Me too,” he smiles, placing a soft kiss on your nose. “And I know we have work tomorrow, but will you stay with me today, Y/N?”

“I’d love that,” you grin, “as long as we can stay in bed all day” —you rest your head on his chest, draping a leg over his waist— “I’m pretty comfortable here.”

“I’m sure you are,” Jimin chuckles, squeezing you closer. “We can do whatever you want, and I was hoping I’d get to treat you today.”

“Treat me?” you ask, looking up in slight confusion.

“Mhm,” Jimin hums, “I just wanna give you a day for you, you know? You always work so hard and I wanna be the one to look after you today.”

You’ve never felt as appreciated as you do now, and Jimin’s shy smile only makes you more sure about being here with him. He’s always cared for you and he’s never been discreet about it. Even at work he’s always overly concerned and his kind nature is one of the many reasons you fell for him.

“And what about you?” you say softly, running your hand delicately through his hair. “Who looks after you?”

Jimin meets your gaze and smiles, his mind returning to your conversation on the hill last night. Often he used to find himself struggling, but like he told you yesterday, you changed all of that for him.

“As long as I have you, I’m happy,” he says quietly, bringing a hand up to hold your face.

The words are there, on the tip of your tongue — you have me — but that voice in the back of your mind tells you something else… that you don’t have him. That no matter how badly you want him and he wants you, he can’t be yours.

The voice starts to grow louder, but you don’t want to hear it, you can’t. So you press your lips into Jimin’s, drowning your senses in the sweet feeling of him, and drowning out the voice to let yourself get carried away by the currents of your happiness.

And it works; his kiss feels like magic, reminding you of all the reasons why you’re willing to risk your own happiness for him, reminding you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

You can feel the care and tenderness he kisses you with, one arm wrapped firmly around your frame, and his other hand gently cradling your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

Jimin kisses you slowly, coming back in a few times while you allow yourself to get lost in this blissful feeling. Your thumb skims his jaw before trailing down, your fingertips gliding lightly across his skin while memorising every line, every dip, every contour of his body.

And when he finally pulls away, it’s the look on his face that makes you realise just how crazy you are for him.

“I’ll look after you,” you say softly, your lips forming a small smile.

Jimin’s eyes gleam with happiness, and he smiles. “I’d like that.”

Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on his shoulder and hug him.

Both of you stay like that for a few moments, arms and legs tangled beneath the sheets as you just savour the moment.

“Was I really drooling?” you ask, breaking the silence and looking up at him.

Chuckling, Jimin winces a little and nods.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” you mutter, facepalming slightly. “I didn’t even know I do that!”

“It’s okay, really, I think it’s cute.”

You look up at him, a cheesy grin on your face. “Hmm, what else do you think is cute?”

“Damn,” Jimin sighs softly, “where do I even start?” He looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully, and then a small smile forms on his lips as he looks back down at you. “I remember the first time I thought you were cute. I think it was your second or third month at the company, and you accidentally walked into the directors meeting, d’you remember?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You prop yourself up on your elbow as the memory returns; you felt so humiliated after you’d mistakenly walked into the meeting, and the room was full of every senior member, including Mr Park and Jimin. “It was my second month, and I was supposed to be having a meeting but I got the time wrong. And then Geun-woo distracted everyone and helped me out,” you grin. “He was one of the only people I was comfortable with then.”

Jimin smiles, his fingers lightly trailing along your arm. “When did you start feeling comfortable with me?”

“Straight after that.” You meet Jimin’s gaze and smile as the memory returns. “You came into the printing room when I was alone at the end of the day. And I was still embarrassed about it but you were so nice to me…” you pause, sighing as you run your fingers through his hair. “There was just something about you, you put me at ease about the whole thing.”

“I remember. I’m glad I did, it was nice to see you laugh after you’d been feeling so nervous all day.”

“And you came to check up on me a lot after that.”

“I did, I liked seeing you smile,” he says quietly. “And I liked being the one to make you smile.”

There’s a simplicity with which he says it, and it comforts you, reaffirming your love for Jimin.

“I still do,” he adds, meeting your gaze.

And with that, you lean up to kiss him on the lips. “You always make me smile.”

“Good,” he says, shifting beneath you and you groan disapprovingly as he sits up with you.

“Come on, let me make you breakfast.”

“What are you gonna make me?” you ask, pulling off of him.

“Whatever you want.”

You hum, feeling hungrier now than you did a few minutes ago. “Okay, but could I shower first?”

“Sure, let me get you some clothes.” Jimin gets out of bed to disappear into his walk-in closet, only to come out a few seconds later holding a towel and a sweater. “Will this be okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you smile, getting up.

Jimin grins, taking your hand as he leads you to the shower, giving you anything else you might need before he leaves you alone so he can make you breakfast.

You shower quickly, getting dressed before returning to Jimin’s bedroom to blowdry and brush your hair. By the time you’re done, you can smell the food Jimin is cooking and it only makes you feel more hungry but before you even leave his bedroom, your phone vibrates on his bed.

Walking over, your face splits into a smile when you see Gi’s name.

“Hey sis,” you answer, your tone seeping with delight as you bring the phone to your ear. “What’s up?”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Gi giggles, “I don't even need to ask, I can hear it in your voice you cheeky minx!”

“What?” you smirk, throwing yourself on Jimin’s bed.

“You’re with him, aren’t you? You spent the night together?”

“Hmm…” you roll over into his pillow, taking a deep inhale and breaking into a giggle when you catch the sweet, musky tones of his scent. “He’s making me breakfast right now,” you grin, excited to share more with Gi but you don’t want to keep him waiting.

Gi squeals excitedly on the other end of the line and it makes you laugh more, sitting up in bed.

“Okay, okay, I don’t wanna interrupt but make sure you call me as soon as you can, okay?”

“I will,” you promise, “I’ll come over on Wednesday after picking up Sung-ho from preschool, okay?”

“Perfect, have fun now!”

Saying goodbye, you cut the phone down and jump up to go to Jimin.

Walking through his apartment, you find the kitchen and your eyes go wide when you see the spread of food he’s laid out, and he’s still behind the stove scrambling eggs. He doesn’t notice you watching him from the door, and you feel something akin to arousal and excitement rush through you when you see him — wearing a plain white tee, his hair damp and messy with a tea towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s the domesticity of it that warms you, something you’re not used to when you often see him in a suit and tie.

Walking over, you stop a few feet away from him, smiling when he looks at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, breaking into a smile as he pulls you into him.

“Hey.” You run your fingers through his damp strands, carelessly styling them out of his forehead. “When did you shower?”

“There’s another shower room down the hall.”

“Ah.” Of course there’s another shower room, this apartment is huge.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asks, returning his attention to the frying pan as he puts the scrambled eggs on the plate next to the stove.

Humming, you walk over to the dining table, eyeing up the small pile of pancakes and fruit as Jimin joins you, and both of you enjoy a yummy breakfast together.

After you’re done, you help Jimin clean up before he gives you a tour of his apartment. It’s when you come to the lounge, and you see a picture from Jimin’s graduation with him standing next to Mr Park and a pretty woman you assume to be his mother, that the warning from yesterday returns to your mind.

You shouldn’t be here. You’re going to get hurt. Mr Park has told you as much.

But you can’t find it in you to leave. You don’t want to.

So again, you push the thoughts away, focusing on Jimin as he brings a photo album off of his shelf.

“Shall we?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, this I definitely wanna see,” you grin, following him as he crosses the room.

Half lying on the couch, Jimin pulls you into his side, snuggling you closer before opening the album.

The first few pictures are of Jimin’s parents, and his mother is heavily pregnant with him as she and his father pose happily while cradling her bump.

It puts a smile on your face, seeing how happy they seem; you’ve seen that same excitement with Gi when she found out she was pregnant with Sung-ho, and especially in the weeks leading up to her due date. And even Mr Park’s smile seems brighter than you’ve ever seen it.

“They look so happy,” you muse, turning the page.

Jimin smiles, absentmindedly kissing your shoulder. “They’d been trying to get pregnant for a year so they were thrilled.”

The next few pages are of Jimin when he was born, pink faced and crying in his mom’s arms.

“I cried a lot,” he adds, smiling at the pictures himself. “My mom said I was the fussiest baby she’d ever come across.”

“You look a lot like her,” you say, looking up to draw the resemblance.

“Good,” Jimin grins, “she’s pretty.”

Chuckling, you agree with him. And Jimin continues showing you more of the photos from his childhood, and you find yourself ooh-ing and aw-ing at many of the pictures, laughing at some of the goofier ones from when he’s in middle school and high school.

The latter of which are less goofy, with Jimin being in a prestigious high school so he always looked well groomed, dressed smartly in his uniform. Even in the photos you can see how fancy his school looks, and you think of how much it differs from the school you went to.

Your parents had to find the closest school with the cheapest fee, and that still meant you and your siblings ended up travelling further than most kids your age would for high school. And even then, the quality of teaching wasn’t great but you all made it work. Thankfully.

Turning the next page, you find yourself looking at Jimin’s prom pictures.

“Oh this is embarrassing,” Jimin mutters, scrunching his nose as he smiles.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you looked so lovely,” you smile, leaning forward as you take a closer look.

There’s a few of him with his prom date, and you can see his tie is matching with the pretty girl. When you look at her face, you think she looks familiar, but you realise the chances of you knowing her are slim to none, considering you both have hugely different backgrounds.

“She looks pretty,” you say, turning the page to see a few more pictures of Jimin and her looking fed up with all the picture taking.

Jimin hums, glancing at you. “She was my girlfriend for a year, but we broke up before we went to college.”

“Oh…” you look at Jimin and smile, turning back to the pictures. “Were you upset?”

“Well, she was my first real girlfriend, and it was my first real relationship,” Jimin says thoughtfully. “But I think we just didn’t work romantically. We’re still friends though,” he adds.

You look up, brows raised slightly in surprise. “Really?”

You’re not bothered that Jimin is still friends with his ex, just surprised because you know how hard it is to stay friends with an ex. You’re more than certain of Jimin’s feelings for you and you’re enjoying this — getting to know Jimin in the comfort of his own home.

“Yeah,” Jimin shrugs. “We’re family friends and we’ve known each other since we were kids so I think it would be pretty awkward if we hated each other.”

“What did your parents say when you broke up then?” you ask. “Wasn’t it awkward for them at first?”

“Ah,” Jimin winces slightly. “It was a little bit, I think because our families are so close, they were all kinda hoping we’d end up together, but they didn’t say much when we did break up.”

With Jimin’s words, you’re reminded of the type of girl Jimin’s family wants for him, and you’re not it.

“It was mutual,” Jimin carries on, turning the pages as he lightly strokes your arm. “I think we both realised we were better off as friends.”

Nodding, you look down at the album, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “What was her name?”

“Bong-cha.”

Before you let your thoughts get carried away, you also turn back to the photos. There’s one of Bong-cha and a short woman you think must be her mother by the way she’s hugging her.

Jimin chuckles, seeing it. “I remember that. Her mom got really emotional when she saw her dressed up like that and she started crying before we left.”

“I can imagine,” you smile, “she’s seeing her daughter all grown up. I would probably cry too.”

“What about your mom?” Jimin asks, shifting to look at you properly in his arms. “What was she like for your prom?”

“Oh, um…” a bittersweet feeling comes to you at the mention of your high school prom. “I didn’t, uh, I didn’t go to my prom,” you hesitate, fiddling with the edge of the album.

“Oh…” Jimin goes quiet, not probing, but he just continues stroking your arm soothingly. And it’s that same something about him that you first noticed so long ago in that printing room, that makes you feel so comforted and at ease — you even feel the knot in your stomach disappear and so you let down your walls.

“I wanted to go,” you say quietly, “I was actually really excited for a few months because our school only had high school prom, and I had even asked one of my

friends to be my date…”

Jimin listens attentively, moving his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours gently while you talk; you’re grateful for him, feeling comfortable enough to share this with him knowing he won’t make you feel different to him.

“And um, well, we couldn't afford a dress,” you say, the bittersweet feeling in your chest expanding as you recall exactly what happened. “So my mom was gonna make me one. She had some materials at home already and she had made Gi’s dress too so it was all fine, except she got ill.”

Jimin sighs softly, and you look down and fidget with his fingers.

“She was pretty bad and there was only two weeks left so Gi offered to make it, and I would help her. Even my dad and brother who have two left hands tried to help…” you chuckle, needing to pause as you feel your voice go thick and your eyes water a little. “In the end it was just... we messed it up and I was too embarrassed to go in anything else, so yeah.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, reminding yourself of all the better fortune that came after. But it still hurts to think of the struggles you went through, especially when you had always craved a normal childhood and high school life.

Jimin holds you tighter in his arms, knowing you’re upset and he hates seeing you like this, but he knows you don’t need sympathy, nor would you want it. Your past has made you into the independent woman you are today and it’s a part of who you are.

“You would’ve been the most beautiful person there, Y/N,” Jimin says softly, smiling when you meet his gaze.

“Thanks,” you smile. “My dad said the same thing that night, after we had dinner and he made me dance with him,” you chuckle softly at the memory. “He couldn’t dance for long so he made my younger brother step in and after that we were all dancing in the kitchen.”

It’s a fond memory of yours from a difficult time, despite the way it came about.

Jimin hums, kissing the crown of your head as you turn back to his album. And in that moment you feel your love for him silently grow.

The next half hour is spent going through the rest of the album, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see some of Jimin with Namjoon and his family.

There’s lots of pictures with Jimin and Namjoon’s two kids, Mi-sun and Baek-hyeon. You notice how Mi-sun looks a lot like her mother, whereas her brother Baek-hyeon looks much like his father.

“Mi-sun is so gorgeous, and her mother,” you say, admiring the picture of the whole family with Jimin.

“Ah, yeah,” Jimin says. “Mi-sun isn’t actually Namjoon’s daughter, only ___’s.”

“Oh,” you nod, making sense of it. “But Baek-hyeon is, right?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“He looks exactly like Namjoon,” you smile, seeing them grow up through the pictures and Jimin seems to be even closer with them than you thought.

“He does, even when he was a newborn he had Namjoon’s nose,” Jimin chuckles.

He shows you the rest of the pictures, sharing some of the stories behind them and you find the idea of Jimin as a dad even more appealing than you had before.

But you suppress those thoughts, knowing it’s a premature thought and you shouldn’t think about it. Especially not when there’s a voice in your head that reminds you this bliss with Jimin might not last as long as you want it to.

When you’re done going through the album, you both stay lounging on the couch, sharing more stories and laughing, or just laying silently in each other’s company.

Once it’s past five pm, Jimin suggests cooking dinner together which you eagerly agree to, and once you’ve both had a delicious meal, he orders you some fancy dessert from one of his favourite nearby restaurants.

“You didn’t even tell me what’s in it,” you say once he’s cut the phone down from the restaurant.

“You’ll love it,” he grins, winding his arms around your waist, “trust me.”

“It’s not anything pistachio flavored is it?” you ask, wincing. “I’m not fond of it.”

“Nope, think lots of chocolate,” he winks, “and it tastes even better with ice cream.”

Convinced, you finish helping Jimin clean the kitchen although he insists on doing most of it. He’s almost done drying the dishes when the doorbell rings.

“That must be the dessert,” he says.

“I’ll get it.” You kiss him on the cheek before heading towards the door.

You’re feeling excited and happy to be here with Jimin. Even though it’s nearing the end of the day, approaching eight pm, you’re still looking forward to spending more days with him like this.

Reaching the door, you barely glance at the monitor showing the familiar face outside, only for your heart to drop when you pull the door open and you come face to face with Mr Park.

He stares at you, confusion on his face for a few seconds until he realises what it is you must be doing here. Especially when he glances at what you’re wearing — only Jimin’s oversized sweater.

The same anxiety from the gala yesterday returns tenfold, and you’re frozen, at a loss for words as Mr Park also struggles to think of what to say.

He doesn’t seem angry, that you’re sure of. But almost upset. You can see it. And it makes you feel far worse than you would if he was angry.

“Y/N?”

Jimin’s voice comes from the kitchen, but you’re still frozen, nervously standing as you wait for Mr Park to say something.

He doesn’t.

And when you don’t respond either, Jimin walks out of the kitchen towards the door, only to pause when he sees it’s his father.

“Abeoji…”

Jimin looks slightly stunned, glancing between you and his dad. But he seems to quickly brush this off to approach your side — almost protectively.

At any other time, you would be conscious of him getting too close to you in front of Mr Park, but now that doesn’t make a difference when he’s found you here like this. You’re certain he’s connected the dots, realising you’ve been here since last night.

When Jimin’s arm goes around your waist, you glance across at him. And he smiles.

Even now, as his dad is in front of him, he’s not afraid to show his feelings for you. And despite the circumstances, you love him more for it.

Looking back at Mr Park, you’re apprehensive for his response, but after another few seconds of silence of looking between you and Jimin, he clears his throat and smiles.

Now you notice the bag he’s holding as he lifts it up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb anything, but your mom sent me with some kimchi for you.”

You’ve known Mr Park long enough and you know him well enough to know he’s being genuine — he’s not mad, nor is he unhappy with either of you. But that doesn’t mean any of this sits right with him, for reasons he wishes he could change.

“Oh, thanks.” Jimin steps forward and takes the bag, opening his mouth to say something else but Mr Park is already excusing himself.

“Well, I should be getting back, your granddad hasn’t been feeling too well so I need to get him some medicine.”

You notice how Jimin’s face changes to one of concern immediately upon hearing that.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” he says, stepping forward as his dad turns back. “Please let me know if he needs anything else, and halmeoni too.”

“I will,” Mr Park smiles as he steps away, glancing back between you and Jimin for a second.

Jimin’s thumb strokes the back of your hand as he addresses his dad again. “Abeoji, I also need to talk to you tomorrow, as soon as you can.”

Mr Park turns back and nods, a knowing expression on his face. “Yes, I have some free time after lunch, we can talk then.”

“Okay,” Jimin nods, gently squeezing your hand as he smiles at his father. “Thank you, and thank eomma for me.”

Mr Park returns the smile, bowing his head politely. “Bye, Jimin, Y/N.”

Still feeling completely unsettled by this whole situation, you return Mr Park’s greeting quietly and Jimin relaxes as his dad walks to the elevator. But still you don’t move or look at him.

Jimin closes the door, stepping closer to you as his hand lands on your waist. “Y/N?” His hand is on your chin, raising your head so you’ll meet his gaze. It’s just like he did in the car yesterday, only then you succumbed to his love. But this time...

“Jimin, I shouldn’t be here.”

Your voice is quiet and unsure, and the words leave your mouth easily. Because they’re the truth.

Jimin shakes his head, a look of frustration and upset on his face as he begins to say something but you immediately look away and keep talking.

“I shouldn’t be here, I knew yesterday I shouldn’t have come and I did, but it was stupid, and you know it too—”

You’re cut off, feeling Jimin’s lips press into you as he gently cups your face. And you give in — for what feels like the hundredth time this weekend — you give in to the feeling of him. You let him kiss you slowly, his arms bringing you into a warm embrace.

“You should be here,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. He exhales softly. “I know what you were about to say, Y/N, but it’s not what you think.” He pulls back to meet your uncertain gaze. “I know my dad said something to you yesterday, and I’m going to talk to him but you need to know that whatever it was, he’s wrong.” Jimin shakes his head as he roams your face. “You’re perfect for me, Y/N. You. And no one else.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds, believing his words because you want to.

“Jimin, your dad told me that you’re expected to marry someo—“

“Expected,” Jimin says firmly. “I’m expected to do a lot of things, and I have done a lot for my family.” His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as he continues. “I’ll happily do so, but there’s some things they can’t decide for me, Y/N. And my happiness is one of them…” Jimin lowers his head again, kissing you softly on the lips. “I want you, and as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Feeling protected in his embrace and by his certain gaze, you smile and nod. But despite how hard you try, you can’t shake the feeling that has settled inside you.

As he takes your hand, the doorbell rings again and this time it’s the delivery man with the dessert.

Jimin answers, thanking him before taking your hand and walking with you to the lounge. Placing the bag on the coffee table, he stops and turns to you.

“You’re okay, right?” The look on his face is full of concern and apprehension.

And you’d do anything to make him smile again. So you nod, leaning forward to kiss on the lips. “I’m okay.”

Jimin relaxes, the smile you love to see adorning his features as he pulls you into his side and you both sit down on the couch to enjoy the dessert he bought you.

You don't eat much, finding your appetite has diminished as thoughts of what Mr Park said to you keep threatening to surface, but you drown them out in conversation with Jimin. Except even as you both talk, there’s an elephant in the room that feels present following Mr Park’s appearance. Whatever thoughts either of you are having, you keep to yourselves, choosing to remain oblivious to it as you only yearn for each other’s company.

But before you know it, it’s half ten and you need to head home; being entangled in Jimin’s arms on the couch, you find it hard to move.

“I wish you could stay,” Jimin says quietly, head buried in your neck.

“Me too.” You stroke his soft locks, sighing softly as every second you spend here makes it that much harder to pull apart.

After another half hour, you eventually do, and Jimin walks you silently to his room so you can pick up your things before he carries your belongings, and both of you make your way down to the car park. The elephant follows you both, and Jimin can sense the heaviness that lingers in every move of yours now and as he opens the door to his Porsche panamera for you, he can’t stop thinking about ways to reassure you that this is okay.

He knows he can only do that once he’s spoken to his father, and while he knows it might not be as simple as he wishes it could be, he is determined to make sure he can be happy with you.

As Jimin gets into the car himself and sets up his maps, you watch him silently, and despite the thoughts that still echo in your head, you find yourself smiling at him.

Pulling out of his apartment’s underground car park, he notices you watching him and instantly breaks into a smile too. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of your hand before lowering it into his lap as he drives.

“I had fun today,” you say quietly, shifting to lean on the console so you’re closer to him.

Jimin’s smile widens as he glances at you briefly. “And what about yesterday?” he asks in a playful tone. “I thought that was pretty fun too, you know, the part where you sat on my th—”

“Yes, that was fun too!” you interrupt, giggling as your cheeks go warm at the mention of last night.

Stroking your hand, Jimin relaxes, his tone becoming mellow. “I’m glad. I want you to be happy, Y/N.”

Humming quietly, you lean into your seat and both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

Once the car is pulled up outside your apartment complex, Jimin carries your bags before taking your hand to walk you up to your apartment. Both of you walk incredibly slowly, not wanting this night to come to an end but when Jimin pulls you into his arms outside of your door, you feel a strong sense of security in his arms, and you feel hopeful that Jimin is right — that Mr Park is wrong, and you and Jimin can be together without it being a problem.

“Can we do this again?” Jimin murmurs, hand stroking your hair.

Smiling, you pull back but stay close in his arms. “Miss me already?”

His gaze is steady, reminding you of why you trust that this can work.

“I always miss you,” he says quietly. And then he leans in, kissing you once on the lips, but you put your hand around the back of his neck and bring him in for more.

Jimin obliges, arms winding further around your body so your chest is pressed up against his and you begin to feel breathless as the kiss intensifies. But before you can get carried away, he slows down, smiling every time you try to come back in.

“You need to sleep,” he chuckles. “We have work tomorrow.”

Grumbling in disapproval, you drop your head but Jimin quickly places a kiss on your cheek.

“Spend the next weekend with me,” he says, raising your chin to look at him. “Come home with me on Friday and we can spend the whole weekend together, hm?”

“I’d love that,” you smile, giving Jimin one more kiss on the lips before you finally pull apart so you can enter your apartment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jimin says softly, stepping back as he leaves.

“Bye, Jimin.”

You stay by the door as he walks back to the elevator, not moving until he disappears from your sight. And when you close the door, you feel a little alone compared to how you were this weekend. But like Jimin said, you can spend the next weekend with him, and hopefully many more.

Although you think of Mr Park now, and everything he’s said to you, you also remember that Jimin has yet to talk to him so you push it from your mind and instead think about how perfect your weekend was.

It’s earlier than usual when you wake up on Monday morning, a sunken feeling in your stomach making it difficult for you to sleep. You’re not sure why you’re feeling this way since you fell asleep on cloud nine last night, mind full of Jimin.

Trying to ignore it, you get out of bed and get ready for work, and thinking about seeing Jimin makes you feel better so you focus on that instead.

You leave half an hour earlier than usual, but you’d rather get a head start on your work for the day. Besides, you know Jimin always comes in earlier so you can see him—but so does Mr Park.

At the thought of him, the sunken feeling returns, gnawing at you inside and making you feel slightly on edge.

Getting into your BMW, you try to push the feeling away but you still remember the look on his face when he came to the apartment yesterday. Although he did smile, and you know Mr Park is a kind person, he can easily come around just like Jimin said.

Reminding yourself of this, and Jimin’s reassuring words yesterday, you feel more relaxed by the time you get to Lotte tower.

But deep inside, there’s a voice that echoes the words of those women on the night of the gala — I know his grandparents and they’ll certainly want a family who has some kind of established business to their name, and a successful one at that. It’s these words that feed the inklings of doubt inside you, but you won’t let them spoil your mood.

Walking into the entrance hall, you smile at all the staff and walk across to the elevator. You’re just about to press the button but someone else beats you to it.

Looking up, your heart skips a beat when you see it’s Jimin.

He’s beaming at you with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Morning,” he chirps, standing beside you as you wait for the elevator to return. Glancing at you, he smirks when he sees the turtleneck you’re wearing to cover his love bites from the night before.

“Morning,” you reply, looking away from him as it takes everything in you to suppress your smile as a staff member from another company comes next to you both.

When the elevator comes, you’re about to step in but Jimin takes your hand to hold you back, swiftly pulling you to the last elevator — there’s no shortage in this huge, luxury building.

He has a smile on his face the whole time but he doesn’t look at you, and just waits for the next elevator to come. And when it does, he quickly looks over his shoulder to make sure no one else is there before pulling you in.

Pressing the button for the 112th floor, he watches the door intently as it closes, and as soon as it’s shut, he’s got you pressed up against the wall.

“You’re here early,” he murmurs, gazing down at you with a smirk, eyes flitting to your cleavage briefly. He has one hand on your waist as the other finds your fingers to slide his in between them.

Letting yourself smile freely now, you run your free hand in his hair and lean forward so your noses are almost touching. “Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug.

Jimin’s smile widens and he brushes a soft kiss on your nose. “Me too. I missed my snuggle buddy.”

Giggling, you bury yourself in his arms as he lowers his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly.

You’re grateful that Park Motors resides on the 112th floor because it gives you time to greet Jimin properly, welcoming him with your tongue as your fingers curl in his hair. He reciprocates with the same eagerness and neither of you could care less if someone were to enter the elevator as you snog like school kids.

Luckily for you though, no one does.

Passing the 102nd floor, Jimin slowly pulls back, groaning when you suck on his lower lip.

“God, I wish you could come home with me today,” he murmurs against your lips. Then he meets your gaze, eyes sparkling with excitement and he leans in to place another lingering kiss before he speaks again, but this time firmly — “come home with me today.”

The thought excites you just as much, and Jimin can see it in the way your eyes light up. So he repeats it again.

“Come home with me today, Y/N,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours as he seeks your taste again. “Fuck, come home with me everyday.” You can tell how worked up he’s getting as he pulls down your turtleneck to press his lips against your skin.

“Will you make me breakfast everyday?” you ask, giggling as his hair tickles your neck.

Laughing, Jimin nods. “Everyday, I’ll make you breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever you want.” He moves back, meeting your gaze.

Neither of you say anything; as much as you would love to go home with him everyday, it’s way too early to be moving in with him, even if you both are already in love with each other. A part of you doesn’t care about that though, and you’d be happy to move at your own pace because Jimin and you have wanted this for so long, but there’s also that other reason holding you back.

So instead of responding, you happily fluff up Jimin’s hair again as he stares at you dazedly with a smile on his face.

As the elevator approaches the 112th floor, you and Jimin separate from one another, smoothing down your suits and making sure you don’t look a mess.

“Can we have lunch together today?” Jimin asks as you both step out and walk towards your offices.

“Oh I would, but I promised Sam we’d go through this month's review.”

“The new guy?”

“Yep,” you sigh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Jimin smiles, looking your way. “Besides, I get to spend this evening with you and I’m looking forward to it.”

Glancing at him, you smile and nod. “Me too.”

He almost reaches for your hand, having made a habit out of it over the weekend, but he realises before he does; while he’s not trying to hide his feelings for you, and he certainly wouldn’t care about anyone in the office finding out about his feelings for you (since he can’t show favouritism when it’s his dad in charge), but he is still aware that he needs to talk to his dad, and until then, this should stay between yourselves.

As Jimin parts from you, he keeps looking over his shoulder as you walk away, and even as Jiho comes and begins bombarding him with a to-do list, Jimin is still thinking about you. But he’s not complaining one bit.

As the shareholders finally leave your office, you close the door, letting out a sigh of relief. They’ve been pretty difficult and you’re worried they plan on pulling out, but you’re trying your best to keep them sweet and happy.

Looking at the clock, you see it’s not even twelve pm yet but your stomach is already grumbling in demand for food. Normally you would just have lunch earlier but you remember you said you would have lunch with Sam so you decide to settle for making yourself a coffee.

Rolling your chair back, you get up and head towards the kitchen. Halfway there, someone is tapping your shoulder and walking in stride with you.

“Hello, beautiful,” Geun-woo beams, looking down at you. He’s four years younger than you but he’s still a good few inches taller.

“Morning, Geun-woo,” you grin. You’ve always found he has an infectious attitude and despite his lack of effort within the company, he can always brighten up your day.

“Getting a coffee?”

“Yeah, it’s been a slow morning,” you complain, walking into the empty kitchen after Geun-woo holds the door open for you. “The Maxwell’s are increasing their demands and I know if I give in, it’ll cause problems with the other shareholders.”

Geun-woo hums. “We have a meeting at the end of this week, we can try to sweet talk them together.” He raises his brow charmingly.

“If anyone can sweet talk better than me, it’s you,” you chuckle. “And you better be there this time.”

You raise your brow, as sternly as you can. But with Geun-woo, it’s never serious.

“I will, and I’ll make sure they stop bothering you too,” he says coolly, grabbing some juice from the fridge before he turns to look at you. And you can see a mischievous gleam in his eye as he asks his next question. “So, how was the gala?”

“Oh, it was lovely, although still a bit too corporate for my liking.”

Geun-woo nods, leaning against the counter beside you as you wait for the coffee machine.

He glances at you, casually taking a sip of his juice, and there’s a smirk on his lips as he lowers the bottle. “Jimin seems to have enjoyed it, or something else this weekend. He’s in a really good mood today.”

You can feel the warmth rising in your cheeks, but you try your best to stay nonchalant. “I’m sure he had fun….”

Nodding, Geun-woo turns and leans his elbows against the counter, this time smirking directly at you. And straight away, you realise that Geun-woo knows about Jimin and you. You’re not surprised since both of you have never been subtle about your feelings for one another, and you’re not worried about Geun-woo knowing either — he’d never do anything, nor would he tell anyone.

“I’m sure he did. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my cousin this happy at work before…”

He smiles cheekily, and his energy is contagious making you smile widely too, confirming his suspicions.

Leaning closer, he speaks quietly. “I would ask what happened after the gala, but I don’t think you’re wearing a turtleneck today because you’re cold.” And then he winks.

“Geun-woo!”

“Don’t worry,” he laughs, patting your shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you smile, taking your coffee from the machine.

“So tell me... just how good was he?”

You almost drop your cup as you look at him with wide eyes, laughing.

He laughs too, taking your cup from you to walk you back to your office. “I’m kidding, although if my cousin shares the same genes as me, then I know he’s damn good.” Geun-woo grins smugly, and you roll your eyes at him, smiling.

“Since you’re so smart, you’re gonna help me teach Sam at lunch.”

“Oh man,” he sighs, but he’s still positive as always. “Fine, I have nothing else to do today anyway, might as well help you out.”

“Perfect, come to my office at 1, and no sly comments, okay?”

“You got it, boss,” he smiles, and both of you engage in cheerful small talk as he walks you back.

Jimin knocks on the door to his father’s office, waiting with bated breath as the reply comes.

He didn’t think he would be this nervous when speaking to his dad about you, but for some reason, he’s worried that this is going to be much more difficult than it had seemed over the weekend.

You were with him then, and having you with him makes everything seem easier.

But still, this is something he needs to do for the both of you. So when his dad calls out in response, he walks in confidently.

It’s a large office, larger than Jimin’s since it’s the chairholder’s. Plus it’s on the second floor that Park Motors occupies, allowing for more space.

Mr Park is seated on the couch across the room, and he’s pouring tea as Jimin approaches.

“Abeoji.” Jimin bows before taking a seat opposite his father.

Mr Park smiles, placing the tea in front of Jimin. “Jimin-ah, how’s your day been?”

“It’s been fine, I’ve had a lot of paperwork from the Hyundai deal but it’s all manageable.”

“Good, you’ve always gotten the job done well, son.”

Jimin smiles, looking across at his father. He knows how to tell if his dad is mad or upset with him, and as he watches him now, he can’t see any of that.

“So…” Mr Park sets his cup down. “You wanted to talk to me, yes?”

“I—, yes.” Jimin also puts his cup down, and he decides to cut to the chase, finding the next words come to him easily. “Abeoji, I’m in love with Y/N.”

His dad doesn’t say anything, but there’s the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. However there’s also a sadness in his eyes. Jimin can see it now. Although he doesn’t let that deter him from carrying on.

“I know you said something to her at the gala, and I don’t need to ask you to know what it was about. I know that hal-abeoji and halmeoni have always wanted to find someone for me and before I didn’t mind, but now I don’t want that… I want Y/N.”

Mr Park sighs quietly, thinking for a few seconds before he says anything. The silence has Jimin on edge but he’s expecting only one answer.

“I can’t speak on behalf of your grandparents, but me… I want your happiness. I’m your father and that’s all I want for you, son.”

Feeling a huge weight lift off his shoulders, Jimin exhales and leans back into the couch. But Mr Park isn’t done yet.

“I think Y/N is extraordinary, and she really is a lovely girl. But, Jimin, I can’t guarantee you things will be smooth sailing, and I know you already know that. You represent this family as CEO and one day you’ll replace me… certain things are expected from you, Jimin-ah. And your grandparents have always wanted to find you someone from a family of their liking.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs, “but it’s only hal-abeoji who thinks we have to find someone from a respectable family, I mean what does that mean anyway?”

“It might not make any sense to you, but it means a lot to your grandparents, your halmeoni included.”

“But Y/N is perfect, just because her family didn’t come from money, but either way, if hal-abeoji and halmeoni really care so much, Y/N’s whole family is successful now.” Although Jimin knows his father isn’t at fault for anything, he can’t help but feel frustrated at the situation and his grandparents' cultural views on social class and hierarchy.

Mr Park shakes his head. “It’s not just about money, it’s about sharing the same values as us, and understa—.”

“What values?” Jimin questions sharply. “What values do we have that Y/N doesn’t?”

Pausing, Mr Park looks at Jimin. He knows his son is right, but his parents are too traditional to think like he is; he knows they won’t approve of their grandson’s choice, despite how perfect you seem to him and his son.

“Come on, abeoji, I know you don’t agree with it. It doesn’t make any sense, if I’m happy with Y/N, then I should be with her.”

Mr Park sighs, rubbing his temple as he leans back. “Jimin, you should know that your grandfather has called me more than once to speak to him regarding certain choices for you and I know that your grandmother is actively looking too.”

“Well I’ll tell them I’m not interested,” Jimin says plainly. He looks at his father and sits forward, his determination taking over. “I’ll tell them I’m not interested because I’m already in love and then I’ll tell them all about Y/N and they can see themselves how perfect she is!”

Realising he won’t be able to change any of this right now, Mr Park looks at his son and smiles.

“She is perfect, and I’m thrilled to see you and Y/N are happy with one another” —sitting up straight, his expression morphs into one of concern— “but as your father I will warn you that none of us know what will happen down the line, okay?”

Jimin pauses, considering his dad’s words. He knows he’s referring to his grandparents who might not be happy with Jimin’s choice, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t care. Normally Jimin always does whatever his grandparents or parents ask of him, but this time, he won’t. He wants you and you only.

“Got it,” Jimin smiles and nods. “And thank you, abeoji. For being happy for me.”

Mr Park feels a heaviness in his chest but he still smiles, for the sake of his son, and you.

“I also wanted to ask, how is hal-abeoji now?”

“Ah, he’s not much better today,” Mr Park frowns, “but he was in more pain yesterday. Your mother thinks he might be getting the flu but with his age, it concerns me.”

Jimin smiles brightly, hoping to cheer his father up. “He’s fit and healthy for a seventy-three year old, abeoji. And I’m sure some of eomma’s kimchi-jjigae will help him feel better.”

“Oh yes, your mother’s cooking is certainly capable of making anyone feel better. Why don’t you come visit him today? He’d be happy to see you.”

Jimin feels a pang of guilt — he wants to see his grandpa, but he already asked you to spend the evening with him. He knows you won’t mind if he were to postpone the evening, he could just invite you over tomorrow, but he doesn’t want to do that to you, especially not when he’s the one who asked you to come.

Mr Park watches Jimin hesitate. “Have you already made plans?” he asks.

“Well, yes, but I can come see him tomorrow and we can have dinner together.”

“Of course,” Mr Park smiles. “I’ll have your mother make your favourite.”

Jimin nods, proceeding to ask about his mother as he and his father have lunch together. Once the hour is up, he returns to his office feeling confident that he’ll easily be able to convince his grandparents about you; Jimin is in love with you, and he thinks it’s impossible for them not to love you as well.

“Oh for fucksake!”

Returning from Geun-woo’s office where you had lunch with him and Sam, you hear the colourful words coming from the printing room; recognizing it as Ava — Mr Park’s assistant who is normally a sassy and chirpy character — you pop your head in and see if she’s okay.

“Ava?”

She turns around, sighing as crumples up some paper in her hand. “Hi. Y/N,” she mumbles, tossing the paper into the trash before turning back. “I can’t get this stupid fax machine to work,” she groans as you approach her.

“Is it urgent?” you ask. “We could call one of the technicians to take a look?”

“No, I need to do this now” —she grits her teeth as she tugs another jammed sheet out before getting the maching to continue printing— “I have an external meeting I need to attend in twenty minutes, and it’ll take me that long to drive there but I need to wait for this stupid fax!”

“Do you need it for the meeting?”

“No, I just need it printed,” she grumbles, trudging over to the printer where she puts another sheet in to scan. “But it’s being so slow and I’m gonna be late if I don’t leave now.”

“Oh, well I can wait for them if you like?” you offer. “I don’t have any more meeti—”

“Really?!” Ava brightens up, looking as though she could kiss you.

“Yeah,” you shrug, and suddenly she’s encasing you in a tight hug before letting go just as quickly.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re the best,” she grins, kissing you on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” you chuckle, watching as she frantically finishes scanning her papers. “I’ve never used it before, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know we had one until today,” Ava says, her usual sassy attitude returning.

“Who’s sending it then?” you ask, turning your head as you begin to read the heading of the first page that is already printed—

Recipient: Park Pilwoo. Chairman of Park Motors. Please find attached the profiles for you to look over.

“It’s Mr Park’s parents,” Ava says airily, oblivious to the way you stiffen up. “I guess they’re used to this old technology—oh… is that rude of me?” She pauses for a second before shrugging, collecting her papers from the tray.

“Did you say Mr Park’s parents?” You look at Ava, trying your hardest to not let your sudden nervousness show.

“Yeah, the papers are for him, so when it’s done you can just drop it off to him.” She doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before she’s walking towards the door, only turning back to give you a big grin as she thanks you once again. “I really appreciate this, Y/N, you’re the best!”

And with that, she’s gone, leaving you alone in the room with the quiet whirring of the machine beside you, adding to the sudden tension that runs through your body.

It’s now, in these seconds of silence, that your sharp mind puts the pieces together, the words on the document having tied it all up — profiles.

Your eyes fall on the page that’s printing, and your heart drops when you’re right.

Marriage profiles. For Jimin of course.

On the page that’s printing now, you see a picture of a beautiful woman at the top, followed by her name and lots more text.

Lee Chaeyoung, aged 26. Occupation: Veterinary specialist Education: Yongsan International School of Seoul

There’s a lot more information that follows, but you stop there; Yongsan International School of Seoul is one of the most expensive high schools in all of South Korea, reminding you that your background could never be enough for Jimin. At least not in the eyes of his family who sent Jimin to another expensive school, and just like you saw in his pictures, it contrasted massively to the dingy building you completed your high school education in.

The realisation washes over you like a wave, leaving you still and silent in your thoughts. Only the fax machine that still prints, and every sound seems to echo the prominent thought that lingers in your head now. Jimin will never be yours, no matter what he says or does.

Your fingers feel clammy, pressed to the many papers in your hands that hold the single, harsh truth standing in the way of yours and Jimin’s happiness. Everything inside you suddenly feels broken but despite that, you keep a calm demeanour and you still plaster a small smile on your face as you knock on the door to Mr Park’s office.

“Come in!”

Pushing the door open, you don’t make eye contact with Mr Park, nor do you respond to his greeting — your thoughts are drowning in a storm of regret and despair, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Focusing on the sounds of your footsteps echoing against the floor, you approach Mr Park’s desk, and only when you hand him the papers do you meet his confused gaze.

“Ava asked me to bring you these.” Your voice comes out small and despondent. “They came in from the fax machine for you… they’re from your parents.”

Mr Park’s eyes widen ever so slightly as they look to the files you’re holding out. Taking them, he reads the same message you read earlier on the first page, and his face drops.

“Y/N, I…” he’s hesitating, stuck on what to say. He looks back up at you, with pity and concern in his expression.

And you hate it. So you begin to turn away but Mr Park’s quick apology has you stopping.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know they were sending this over today otherwise I wouldn’t ha—”

“You have no reason to apologise, Mr Park,” you interrupt him. “You did warn me but I didn’t listen to you, it’s my fault.”

Sighing, Mr Park stands up and places a hand on your arm. “None of this is your fault, Y/N. You just did what you wanted and whether it was for better or for worse, you did what was right for you.”

Even after you’ve received many signs that you and Jimin will not work, small hope remains within you, and you look up at Mr Park, thinking only of how desperately you want Jimin.

“And was it for better or for worse?” you ask, watching his face carefully for the answer. “Could I have a chance, or was my right decision just a stupid one?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “It wasn’t stupid.”

“But it was for worse, right?”

Silently, he nods.

And just like that, any inklings of hope you had left for being with Jimin dissipate into nothingness, leaving a hollow space in your chest.

There’s a few seconds of silence as you come to terms with it as Mr Park has just confirmed that you were always going to end up like this. Your happiness with Jimin lasted a single weekend because you’re not good enough for him; you always knew that it seemed too good to be true, but you allowed yourself this one happiness and despite its brevity, you don’t regret a single moment. Jimin will always be worth it to you.

But thinking of him now, you already find your strong facade cracking as you realise you’ll have to be the one to end this. Because you can’t continue — the women on those profiles will have a real chance at happiness with him, but all you had is a dream.

Clearing your throat, you give Mr Park a small smile and turn away. “I’ll talk to Jimin,” you mutter as you walk away, but only a few steps later, you pause and turn back to Mr Park who is still watching you with a sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr Park,” you say quietly, unable to look at him, “for not listening to you.”

He shakes his head immediately, his smile forming with affection. “You have nothing to apologise for, Y/N, dear.”

You nod, turning away once more to walk out, and you don’t stop walking until you’re at the door to Jimin’s office.

If you don’t do this now, you know you’ll end up hurting yourself more.

Knocking on the wood, you feel your heart throb at the sound of Jimin’s voice.

“Come in!”

Steeling yourself, you push the door open and walk into his office.

The second you meet his gaze, you find your strength crumbling and it takes everything in you to make yourself resistant to his gleeful smile. You have to do this for the both of you. You know if you don’t do it now, it’ll just hurt more when the inevitable happens, because Jimin has too much love and respect for his parents and grandparents to ever let them down — you’ve seen how he lights up talking about them, and you know it’ll hurt him so much to go against their wishes. You yourself, as someone who dearly values respect and family, would rather he lose you than ruin the respect he has from his family.

And although it hurts like hell to have to do this, you knew from the beginning you were stepping out of your league and you knew the chances of this happening were high.

Your inner conflict shows on your face and Jimin’s smile falters, concern flooding his features as he drops his papers and gets up to walk over to you.

But this time, instead of letting him lay his hands on your arm and soothe you with his comforting words, you abruptly step back.

“Y/N?”

You’re not sure what hurts most in this moment — his confused expression, the hurt lacing his gentle tone, or the desperate feeling of wanting to step into his embrace, but you can’t.

“I made a mistake coming with you on Saturday, and I can’t— I won’t do it again. I can’t be with you, Jimin… I’m sorry.”

Silence follows.

Your heart beats faster than the seconds pass, and Jimin just stares at you. He’s trying to make sense of it — you can see it in the furrow of his brows and his slightly parted lips. And then he realises.

Expression hardening, he steps forward and takes your hand. “Y/N, we’ve been through this, you’re all I want and I’m going to do all it takes to make sure this can work.”

“See, Jimin, that’s the thing” —you pull your hand from his and step back,trying damn hard to ignore the hurt that flashes across his face— “we shouldn't have to try this hard, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

“Babe, it won’t be, I spoke to my dad and he’s happy wi—”

“It’s not about your dad, Jimin,” you interject, forcing the next words out of you. “We’re from two different realities and because of that we’ll never work.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jimin says quietly, stepping forward and holding your cheek in his hand. “And I know you don’t either.”

It’s crazy how convincing you find him — only moments prior you were hopeless, but now Jimin makes everything seem possible. He makes this love seem easy, and so perfect. But you remember the papers you handed to Mr Park earlier, and you will never be one of those girls.

Again, you step back, except this time you put more distance between you, looking away from Jimin before he convinces you to do otherwise.

“I do.”

“Y/N, please, baby, I’ll do anything, anything.” He steps forward, his hand reaching out.

One last time, you move out of his reach. “Jimin, please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

It’s clear in the way your voice breaks that you don’t want this. But you’ll do everything to make it seem like you do. If you have to push Jimin away so he’ll stop trying to love you, then you’ll do it.

“It doesn’t have to be hard, we can be happy—“

“No, I don’t want this, Jimin. I don’t…” the words you need to say feel impossible, but you force them out anyway, bearing the pain as they claw their way out of your throat. “I don’t want to be with you.”

Jimin feels his heart break at those last words, his happiness being torn away from him when he would do anything to fight for you. He wants to show you that it’s not true, that what you’re saying is meaningless because you and him can be happy together… but deep down, he knows you’re right. And he can’t convince you to commit to him when he knows the problems and distress it would cause you — you don’t deserve that. And he would never want you to go through that for him.

His shoulders drop, and he steps back defeatedly. “This is what you want then?” he asks, the words coming out quiet and fragile.

“Yes,” you whisper, still too afraid to look up.

The air between you is thick, suffocating you for the first time in his presence. Because now you can’t fall back into his arms and drown yourself in his comfort that protects you from the rest of the world — and the blunt reality that comes with it.

Swallowing hard, Jimin turns and walks back to his desk. “I guess we’re done here, Miss L/N,” he says quietly.

And only now do you look up — Jimin hasn’t called you that in a long time. Since before the two of you grew close. You know what it means.

“I… Jimin…” you hesitate, the hurt seeping into the cracks of your heart and weakening you. “We’re still friends—“

“I can’t just be friends with you, Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice ripe with all the pain you’re struggling to keep contained.

The thought of not being friends with Jimin feels unbearable. But so does the thought of seeing him everyday and not being able to have him when you know it’s the only thing you both want. So maybe it’s for the best.

Head lowered, you turn on your heel and walk out of Jimin’s office.

The evening is calm and breezy, contrasting the frustration and anger that swarms within Jimin amidst the terrible ache of your earlier conversation.

He’s never been mad at his family before, but for the first time in his life, he is. It’s their prejudices against those who’ve had a less fortunate upbringing, and the stigma they associate with having less; all his life he’s seen his family remain rooted in their privileges, fuelling the idea that money and success is what makes a person good. But Jimin knows that is far from the truth.

You started off with neither, and though you have both now, you’ve been a good person from the very beginning and Jimin has never met anyone like you. He wishes his family would think the same, and despite their inherent opinions, he still wants to convince them otherwise because he can’t let you go this easily.

Pulling up outside of his family home, Jimin steps out of his car, briefly going into the back to pick up the two flower bouquets he bought for his mother and grandma. Walking up to the huge double doors of the grand house, the housekeeper opens the door for Jimin, greeting him welcomingly as she takes Jimin’s coat from him and informs him his parents are in the main sitting room.

He goes straight there, his face breaking out into a smile when he sees his mom, Mi-jeong.

“Jimin-ah!” she says excitedly, jumping up from her seat to greet her son.

Jimin embraces her in a tight hug, smiling briefly at his father who watches them from the table.

“How have you been, mom?” he asks, moving back to hand her the flowers.

“Busy,” she replies, her smile never fading, “but well. I’ve missed you though, it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen you.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs, following her as she resumes her seat at the table. “I’ve been busy so I couldn’t come as often as I could, and there was the meeting in Busan last week too.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Mr Park says, waving a hand airily. “She’s had me to make up for your absence.”

“Please,” Mi-jeong snorts amusedly. “When’s the last time you bought me flowers, Pilwoo?”

Laughing, Jimin leans into his mother and hugs her from the side as Mr Park hesitates, looking somewhat guilty.

“It has been a long time…” He looks across at Jimin, and when he does, Jimin is reminded of their conversation earlier during the day and his excitement fades.

Mr Park sees this and his expression changes too, the sudden change in atmosphere warranting confusion from Mi-jeong.

“Jimin-ah, what’s wrong?” she asks, looking between her son and husband concernedly.

Mr Park gives her one look, and she catches on to it right away with a quiet, “oh”.

Glancing at his mother, Jimin doesn’t need to ask to know his dad must’ve told her all about you and everything that’s happened today. He exhales heavily, leaning back in his seat as the ache in his chest swells.

His mother sighs sadly, taking his hand into her lap and Jimin feels like a young boy again, ready to confide in his parents for help.

“She broke up with me,” he croaks, recalling how small and hopeless you’d looked standing in his office.

There’s a silence that follows. His parents exchange glances, sympathising greatly with their son but they know how Jimin’s grandparents are — proud and stubborn.

“Give it some time, Jimin,” his mother says softly, stroking his hair. “Things will get better.”

He looks up with teary eyes. “But I won’t have Y/N. I don’t want things to get better if she’s not with me, eomma, I love her.”

Mi-jeong hesitates, unable to find the words to comfort Jimin and he knows this — there’s nothing his parents can do because ultimately, they’re just like him, unable to disappoint their parents.

Swallowing, Jimin sits up straight and pours himself a glass of water before looking at his dad.

“I want to talk to hal-abeoji today,” Jimin says. “I’m going to tell them I don’t want to get an arranged marriage.”

Beside him, Mi-jeong opens her mouth but closes it again, and looks at her husband.

“Jimin,” Mr Park winces slightly, “your grandparents sent me some documents at work today, marriage profiles for you… and Y/N saw them.”

At first Jimin doesn’t understand, looking at his father confusedly, until it hits.

“She came to me after she saw them…”

Mr Park nods, downcast.

Realising this, Jimin’s previous determination to convince his family about you sparks again, and he looks across at his parents with an urgency.

“Are they outside?” he asks, getting up. “Hal-abeoji and halmeoni, are they outside?”

“I… yes,” his mom nods.

And in the same second, Jimin grabs the second bouquet and is rushing out of the room to find his grandparents, with his parents following behind him.

Jimin makes straight for the backyard where he sees his grandparents conversing airily over some tea on the veranda.

His grandpa, Deok-su, spots him first, setting down his cup and smiling faintly as Jimin bows respectfully in greeting before holding out the bouquet for his grandma, Eun-ae.

“Ah, Jimin-ah, you’re too kind to me,” she smiles, patting the space behind her for him to sit.

He obliges, feeling the observant eyes of his grandpa on him.

“Anything to make you smile,” he says, lowering his head as Eun-ae kisses his cheek.

“How was work today?” Deok-su asks as Mr and Mrs Park sit down at the garden table too.

“It was good,” Jimin pauses, looking up to meet his grandpa’s gaze, and he finds the courage to say what he needs to say. “Except for one thing.”

Barely raising a brow, Deok-su raises his teacup to his lips, taking a long sip before he answers.

“And what was that?”

Glancing at his parents, Jimin can see their apprehension but he doesn’t care. He has to try. For you, he has to.

“You sent some marriage profiles to dad today, but I don’t want to get an arranged marriage.”

Deok-su wasn’t expecting that and his expression shows it. “Oh really?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, turning to Eun-ae, finding her features much kinder than his grandpa’s stony expression which he’s not used to, although he can tell that she too wasn’t expecting him to say that as she looks at Jimin in confusion.

But it doesn’t deter him.

“I’ve already found someone,” he says boldly, “and she’s more successful than most of those girls you’ve picked out for me.”

“How so?”

Hearing the challenge in his grandpa’s tone, Jimin looks to him. Normally Deok-su is always willing to hear out Jimin’s thoughts and is understanding of him but his sudden coldness now is unnerving for Jimin, so he makes sure to answer carefully.

“She works at the company, and she’s doing all the work that Geun-woo does. She’s hard working and respectable, and kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. She graduated top of her class and she’s one of the brightest employees at the company, ask abeoji.” Jimin looks on hopefully at his dad who smiles, albeit somewhat meekly under his own father’s sharp gaze.

But Deok-su doesn’t bother asking his son, instead deciding to cut to the chase of what he deems as important; if Jimin says he’s found someone himself, he cares not for their personality since it’s irrelevant to him. He just needs to make sure that they’re from the same status and rank as his own family.

“You said she’s respectable…” Deok-su says plainly to his grandson. “What is her father’s name?”

“Oh, I…” Jimin hesitates. He knows why his grandpa is asking and he knows that he will base his judgements off of the status of your family. So he lies.

“I don’t know, but she is respe—“

“Well what is her mother’s name?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Deok-su arches his brow as he stares intimidatingly at Jimin.

Eun-ae shifts beside him. “I’m assuming you’re in a relationship with this girl, yet you don’t know her parents’ names?” she asks, confused.

Jimin considers lying for a split second, making something up to appease his grandparents, but then he decides against it. They should be happy with you, just as he is and Jimin is ready to challenge their ideals.

“They’re from Gangbuk-gu,” he says, watching carefully for their reactions.

Gangbuk-gu is one of the poorest districts in Seoul — your home for most of your life.

Immediately, Deok-su’s brows shoot into his brows and Eun-ae makes a disapproving tutting sound.

“But she went to Seoul National University, even Jae-geun hyung didn't pass their exams,” Jimin adds, feeling pathetic that he has to try and persuade his grandparents by comparing you to his eldest cousin. It shouldn’t be like this.

“How on earth did she get in when she’s from Gangbuk-gu?” Deok-su questions, his tone bordering on accusatory for reasons beyond Jimin.

He can sense the subtle anger from his grandpa and it unnerves him — Jimin isn’t used to conversations like this and although he’s afraid of his grandparents getting angry with him, his love for you overpowers the fear, as well as his own rising anger at his grandfather’s tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin replies just as sharply.

Deok-su looks at Jimin, surprise written all over his features that his grandson has just spoken back in that manner.

When Jimin catches his father’s face, he realises he ought to calm down. Yes, he’s getting frustrated right now, but he shouldn’t disrespect his grandparents, not when they’ve done so much for him.

So he sits up straighter and speaks in a soft tone. “She’s smart and she’s so hard working which is how she got in. I’ve never known anyone to work as passionately as she does, hal-abeoji, you’d love her, and halmeoni you too—“

“Pilwoo.” Deok-su’s voice is calm yet overpowers Jimin’s as he interrupts him and addresses his son.

Mr Park meets his father’s gaze. “Yes?”

“You knew about this girl?”

“Yes, I did…” Mr Park glances at Jimin and gives him a small smile. He knows this is pointless, but for Jimin’s sake, he’ll try. “And everything Jimin has said about her is true, she’s remarkable, abeoji, her name i—“

“I don’t care.” Deok-su’s words are sharp and final, like a blade made to cut down Jimin’s hope in one brutal strike.

Deok-su turns back to his tea and sips slowly again.

“Hal-abeoji?” Jimin’s voice is quiet, and even when he turns to his grandma, he’s met with an unhappy expression as she sighs and turns to the maid, telling her to put the flowers in some water as though this whole conversation didn’t just happen.

Feeling desperate, Jimin looks to his parents. His mother is visibly upset as she sees Jimin’s broken expression and Pilwoo shakes his head silently.

But Jimin hasn’t got an answer from his grandpa yet, so he tries again…

“Hal-abeo—“

“Pilwoo, I want you to have looked at those profiles within the week,” he says in an icy tone, ignoring Jimin entirely. “You’ll send me the ones that you find suitable for the future CEO of my company, since it clearly seems my grandson is incapable of making his own decisions.”

Any words get stuck in Jimin’s throat, and before he can even think of what to say, his grandpa waves his hand dismissively.

“You can all leave me now, I think I’ll take lunch alone with Eun-ae. We have things to discuss.”

If it weren’t for Mi-jeong coming to his side and taking his arm, Jimin might’ve remained sat on the bench, frozen in shock.

Without a word, he follows along beside his mom, the thoughts weighing down heavily on his chest. And for the first time in his life, Jimin wishes he wasn’t the CEO of Park Motors.

“And you ended it? Just like that?” Gi looks at you in surprise, but her tone is soft and her expression is tender, just like her hold on you as you sit cuddled up beside her on the couch.

You’re feeling broken, subdued by the status that you will never have — the only status that would make you worthy of Jimin.

Without a word, you nod.

Gi sighs softly, rubbing your arm comfortingly as you try your best to fight back the tears that you’ve been keeping in all day.

“Y/N, maybe you should’ve given him a chance,” Gi says quietly, “he said he spoke to his dad, right?”

“It’s not just his dad though, it’s everything,” you mutter.

“How so?”

“It’s his whole family who will expect him to get an arranged marriage to someone like one of those girls I saw, someone from a rich family who has probably had a silver spoon in their mouth since birth.” There’s a bitterness in your voice, but you can’t help it. “He’s the CEO and future chairman so out of everyone, he’s expected to marry well, and I’m far from the perfect girl they have in mind for him.”

“Y/N, babe, you have to stop putting yourself down like this,” Gi says, sternly.

“But it’s the truth!” you counter her with vehemence, feeling the last of your strength crumbling and the tears finally begin to fall. “I’m not good enough for him, Gi, and I knew from the start that what I was doing was gonna end like this, but I just wanted him, even if it was just for one weekend…” you trail off, the lump in your throat expanding, and with the inevitable onslaught of emotions that erupt, you just let it all out, sobbing freely into Gi’s shoulder.

She hugs you tightly, occasionally reminding you that things will get better, but to you, without Jimin it feels like they never will.

“I love him, Gi,” you whisper, sniffling as the ache in your chest deepens.

“I know,” she hushes you gently, kissing your head before sighing. “I know.”

A/N: thank you for reading!! <3 The taglist is still open, message/comment/send an ask to be added. Alternatively, you can check the SERIES MASTERLIST for updates :)

taglist:

@mylanngmon @anna-muse @ot7lonelylover @christiandosworld @helenazbmrskai @ownthesunshine @yesalexus @heyjiminnie @daydreambrliever @parkjiminisme @subtlepjiminie @vonvi-blog @holywitchwhispers @vaekth @pjmnoir @maashj @lachimolala-2l @chubsjmin @parkkyeoreumm @bts-7-shadow @storms-and-stars-blog @jalexad @halesandy @telepathypark @jinhitwhore

482 notes · View notes

rrickgrrimes8 · 4 years

Note

hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard.

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment.

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him.

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum.

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears.

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.”

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body.

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?”

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.”

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled.

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.”

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.”

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had.

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting.

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck.

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you."

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen."

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?"

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began.

"How was it?" She inquired.

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed.

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled.

"Why two kisses, y/n?"

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead.

"Its home bubs with an e on the end."

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again.

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van.

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here.

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too.

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug.

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada."

"I love you too, baby girl."

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect.

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father.

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers.

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help."

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you."

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps.

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head.

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group.

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs.

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me."

"I promise, dada."

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird.

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it.

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone.

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical.

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for.

Glenn was next.

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her.

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt.

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma.

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her.

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead.

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it.

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth.

"I-i can't," She sobbed.

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop.

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them.

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump."

"I love you, Daryl."

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes.

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well."

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground.

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame.

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father.

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan.

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories.

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick.

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her.

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x grimes!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x grimes!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #michonne x reader #michonne x daughter!reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #daryl dixon #michonne #rick grimes daughter #the walking dead request

660 notes · View notes