#they were 8 hours well spent though

[existentialcrisis-24-7]

I recently found my 3DS and also found my Pokémon Alpha Sapphire game and guess who just lost 8 hours of their life

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Yeah... I remember seeing the architectural design majors at my uni having this breakdown each semester...

[sweetteainthesummerx]

✰ sweet nothing✰

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x writer! reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

song: sweet nothing by taylor swift

summary: 5 times Quinn knew you were the one, and the one time he let you know...

word count: 2.2 k

notes: quinn my sweet boy!! also sweet nothing by taylor swift because her love songs are so superior

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

outside, they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming

quinn pushes open the door to his apartment, exhausted. His face hurts from smiling at fans, and the triple header really, really took it out of him.

he loves his captaincy, really. he loves his boys, the leading, the responsibility. it's hard, though, to live up to all of the jostle and hassle the spotlight brings.

needless to say, the push and shove of stress has taken its toll on him, and all he needs is a hot shower and preferably 8 or more hours of sleep.

through the walkway, he hears a familiar voice, the telltale clatter of pans, a taylor swift song and the aroma of garlic and tomatoes.

you must've used his spare key he gave you.

he smiles despite himself, something warm tugging deep in his stomach.

he calls your name and immediately flushes with how breathy and needy he sounds. the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

"q!" you pop up from behind the counter, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts that drapes long over your slender shoulders and a pair of ratty sweatpants. your hair is pulled back from your make-up void face.

you've never looked more beautiful.

you make your way over while he admires you, and lock your arms around his waist, smiling up at him.

"missed you," you kiss his cheek, and he flushes again. god, why was he like this still?

the two of you have been dating for over than a month now, but he's still so easily flustered by you. maybe it's because you work with words for a living, but you're the sweetest thing he's ever seen (and tasted).

you think it's cute, and you tell him more often than not, reducing him to a puddle of a blushing mess.

he bundles you properly in his arms, kissing you properly.

you're so soft and warm under his fingers, your mouth hot and pliable.

you indulge him for a moment, savouring the time with each other. his hands wander down to your hips, gripping hard like he's afraid you'll be blown away by the wind.

a timer dings, and you pull back. he chases your lips, letting out a whine when you giggle and push gently at his broad chest.

"quinny, stop! i made you lasagna, and I don't want it to burn."

"mm, we'll order take out," he mutters into your neck, breathing in your familiar perfume.

you let out a sound of protest, finally breaking free of his hold. he follows you like a lost puppy as you set the table, plating him an extra large piece.

as he eats, you watches your kind eyes and easy smile with adoration.

the realization jars him, but settles firm in his bones: he wants to come home to you everyday.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i wrote a poem, you say, "what a mind", this happens all the time

it's the release of your latest book, and quinn watches as you engage with your fans. the biggest indigo in vancouver invited you to come do a meet and greet along with a signing.

you had spent the morning with quinn, his hands stroking through your hair to calm you down. although your other books had success, this one was your proudest piece of work yet.

quinn had been the first person to read it. he was impressed; he knew you were smart and you had a way with words that astounded him, but the whole book was like poetry.

the words flowed easy from you, as easy as breathing.

now, watching you all flushed and a little embarrassed by the attention from the mass of people who showed up, he all but glows with pride.

a young girl, maybe in her early teens, comes up to you with a wide smile and bright, glassy eyes. he can't hear well, because he's tucked near the back of the room to avoid the crowd, but she says something and your face falls.

he's ready to sprint through the crowd to get to you, but you hug the younger girl. she's crying, he realizes. you squeeze her tight, sign her book and send her off with what looks like encouraging words and another hug.

afterwards, while he drives with one hand and the other on your thigh, he asks what happened.

"she told me she's never felt more seen by anyone before. that my book told her it's okay to not know where to be in the world." your eyes feel wet, and he smiles.

god, you're brilliant.

he raises your hand to his mouth and kisses your pulse.

"what a mind," he murmurs, and you laugh softly.

"you tell me that all the time."

"because I mean it, babe."

now he understands when those cheesy movies say "I want you body, mind and soul".

you are undeniably beautiful, gorgeous even. kindness seeps from your very being, and you're mind is bright and soft.

he wants all of you, forever.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

the voices that implore, "you should be doing more"

ellen sees some of the articles and criticisms of her eldest on the internet. quinn has always been the quietest, the most calm and so stoic. but her sweet boy, who worked too hard and did too much was always being told to do more.

so when she called him and he picked up the facetime groggy and hair still damp, she was surprised.

"hey, mom." he answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"hi, quinn. sorry, sweetie. i didn't expect you to be asleep. i thought i would check up on you."

"all good." he yawns, and he makes small talk.

she wonders if he's seen all of the speculations about his captaincy on the news and headlines.

he tells her he has, because she asks him straight up. he appreciates the straightforwardness, and he has since he was young.

he tells her that you were there.

"she ran me a bath, with those weird salt things that women love so much-"

"hey! they're very nice." she interrupts, laughing at his antics.

"and she made soup. we ate already and I took a nap. she's out getting groceries, but i'll tell her you said hi, mom."

ellen nods, something tangible and comforting in the air around her. her son is in good hands.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

to you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

you find him in the empty change room. he's sitting on a bench, wet hair messy, head hung. you expected this; your boyfriend was nothing if not responsible and too hard on himself.

after another loss, his grief and frustration was normal.

you kneel before him, taking his face, hot from the shower in your cool hands. his pretty eyes are rimmed red, and he leans into your touch.

"hey, pretty boy. you did good out there, captain."

he shakes his head, fingers trembling as he pulls you closer so he can push his face into your hair, inhaling your smell.

"i failed them. i'm a shit captain, and i can't seem to break this cycle we're in-"

"you are not a shit captain." you say those words firmly, and it almost surprises quinn. normally you were soft-spoken and slow, but you tell him this with urgency.

"i should be taking care of everyone, and everything-"

"but who takes care of you?"

your words break a dam in him, and he buries his head in your shoulder. the position is uncomfortable, but you don't shift or mention his shaking shoulders.

"you are a good leader. a good leader is one who stands with his team, even during the tough times. the boys adore you, and you will break this rut. but it takes time, and work, my love. no one works harder than you."

he sniffs, a hovering breath touches your neck.

"you are so strong, my sweet boy." you cradle his neck, pressing kisses to the side of his face. this sets off another wave of emotions, and he easily tugs you up into his lap.

his wet hair drips onto your (his) jersey, but you don't mind.

"and if you need to be strong for them, you can be soft with me. i'm here for a reason. another set of shoulders to bear your burdens."

"i love you, y'know that?" his voice is scratchy, vulnerable and thick with emotion. although the two of you have exchanged those three words countless of times before this, it feels like more this time.

"i know, quinnie. i love you too."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

jack hauls his older brother onto the curb, setting him there, praying that he doesn't fall flat into the road. luke runs out with quinn's jacket, draping it over his shoulders.

it isn't often that quinn gets drunk, especially this drunk. but the boys night was a chance for all of them to let loose during the off season.

the small dive bar near the lake house was the perfect place to get away.

"dude, he is hammered." luke huffs, tugging at the sleeves of his own hoodie, the chill of the night starting to surround the air.

quinn says something under his breath as he sways, and jack sets him upright again.

"bro, what did you say?"

quinn repeats your name, louder this time, with the request to see you immediately.

the way he says your name, with so much love and awe makes jack almost wish he was in a relationship.

"sure, man. i'll call her to pick you up."

you arrive a mere 10 minutes later, hair wet, wearing one of quinn's canucks sweatshirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

"hey guys," you greet the other hughes boys. Luke gives you a side hug, and you pat jack's arm in thanks as you move to help her boyfriend up.

"babe!" Quinn only realizes then that you're here. jack has to laugh, seeing his brother so far gone because of the 7 tequila shots they took.

"jeez, guys. how much did you drink?" you ask, laughing, and Luke starts to regale you with the tale of jack's bad rendition of lady gaga.

"i missed you." quinn is now standing behind you, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. he doesn't say it loud, but contented and quiet.

jack watches as you smooth your hands over his forearms, rolling your eyes in amusement.

"yes, yes, I missed you too, you clingy baby."

"hey! m'not clingy." he protested, his whole body pressed up against every inch of yours.

jack snorts, giving you a sympathetic look, "good luck with that one."

you jokingly flip him off, as you try to maneuver your much larger boyfriend.

"c'mon, hughes." quinn frowns at this.

"I only answer to quinny, my love, sweetie and baby."

"that's your name?" jack asked, only to be met with a dirty look from his brother. luke snickers as you shrug quinn into the passenger seat.

"thanks for watching him." you say as you walk over to the driver's side.

"thanks for coming to get him. did we interrupt anything?"

"nah, except your mom was showing me your guys' baby pictures." you eyes shine with mirth as they groan.

"please tell me she didn't-"

"yep, the bathtub pictures too." you smile, and quinn yells something from with in the car.

"okay, I should probably get the big baby home. you guys don't stay out too late, okay?" you tell them, and they bid you goodbye.

he watches you guys drive off, quinn probably saying something stupid as you laugh.

"y'know, i really hope she's the one." Luke tells him as they head back into the bar.

jack has never, ever seen his brother so happy. he's never seen him smile so willingly for anyone, and clearly, you have him wrapped around your finger.

"yeah, me too, man."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

+ all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

you're wearing your blue light glasses, a tank top and a pair of his plaid boxers as you sit cross-legged in your shared bed, hair loose around your shoulders.

you're working on something new, and quinn studies your features as you concentrate.

without looking up from your laptop, you grin, "stop staring, stalker."

he laughs, "you love it."

you meet his eyes as he crawls next to you. he lets you wipe at his mouth, where he's sure there's still remnants of toothpastes.

"i love you." you offer instead, and he pulls you onto his lap. his fingers inch up your thighs but stop there.

he just wants to feel you, before he has to leave for another roadie.

"i love you." he tells you matter-of-factly, "and i'm going to marry you one day."

"babe, we've only been together a little over 8 months," you protest, but he sees the glow of joy on your cheeks at his words.

"i know," he says confidently, "but i'm going to make you my wife, one day. all i want is you."

you melt at his words, laying your head on his shoulder, "all i want is you, and your sweet nothings."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (13) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of injury, trauma; family drama; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; they're still idiots;  explicit sexual content (making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, mutual masturbation, protected sex)  (18+)

Chapter Word count: 29k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: It's here! This is a long one so I hope you enjoy and savour it all. We're close to the end! So thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

You take up Yoongi’s offer of a listening ear on Saturday, the day after your last day at the company. You spent last night wallowing in sadness over not being able to see Jungkook during your farewell dinner and in regret for not telling him what you wanted to say - that you were thankful, that you wished the Arts Center would be everything he imagined it would be, and that hopefully, you’ll see him again. 

Maybe if he showed up, you would’ve said more - that you’re terrified of everything he makes you feel, that you’re too burdened by your past, and that you want him even if you don’t know if you’re ready to be with him.

You spent much of today convincing yourself that it was better that you didn’t see him, even if you kept imagining his shy smile and the feel of his lips against yours, and then you got frustrated all over again. 

With all that’s going on in your head, you figured that spending dinner on your own today would make you feel more sorry for yourself, so you’re currently seated in front of Yoongi with your wonton soup barely touched while he’s just slurped the remaining noodles of his. 

“Your soup’s getting cold,” he nudges your foot as you mindlessly gaze at your bowl. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”

“Apparently, I don’t eat much when I’m sad,” you sigh, turning to him. 

“Well, that sucks. It’s really good soup,” he hums. 

Yoongi looks at you patiently just as he has for the past half hour. You told him you wanted to eat out, and he agreed immediately, even offering to drive you home after. But you haven’t said much since you arrived at the restaurant and he hasn’t forced you to say anything either.

“I’m sorry for not being a fun dinner partner tonight,” you say. 

“It’s okay. When I told you the other week to call me if you wanted to talk, I didn’t expect you to actually talk,” he chuckles. “I know sometimes you just need someone to be with. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you reply. “I can't even figure myself out.”

“It’s only complicated if you make it,” he counters. “Human beings are complex, yes. But feelings of desire aren’t. They’re quite straightforward. You want something and that should tell you everything. It’s pride and fear that complicate things. If you set those aside, then you’ll be able to figure out what you really feel.”

“What if they contradict each other?”

“The push and pull isn’t always equal though. One overpowers the other in some way. So you’re either more happy about leaving or more sad about it. And then ask yourself why.”

“I’m sad about leaving Jungkook,” you admit. “I don’t regret my decision but it doesn’t make me happy right now.”

“And why doesn’t it make you happy?”

“Because it hurt him. And then it hurt me.”

“Why did it hurt the both of you?”

“I don’t know about him,” you pout.

“Then what about you? Why did it hurt you?”

“Because he kept his distance - he replaced me, shut me out. And then he didn’t show up to my farewell dinner.”

“So what’s painful about that?” Yoongi pushes, wanting to help you make sense of things.

“Because I want him close to me,” you say quietly, letting the words sink in. You’ve always known this, but saying it to someone else somehow makes it feel more real this time. “I want him… with me.”

“Told you it was simple,” Yoongi shrugs.

“But it isn’t,” you argue.

Yoongi is a straightforward man, and you suppose the only way for him to understand is for you to tell him the truth, so that’s what you do. 

You tell him about your ties to the Jeon family, why you stayed in the company for as long as you did, all the attempts at leaving, and the plan of doing so after the Arts Center opening. You share about your life in the process - your childhood of staying at the library and your coping mechanisms, your life in Busan, going back to Daegu then leaving for Seoul, working to repay a debt, and then losing yourself because of it. You talk about the closeness you developed with Jungkook, all the times that he was there for you, the kiss and the aftermath, why you pushed him away and why you also feel bad about how he reacted. You say a bit about the things that scare you - getting hurt being one of them - and why staying for Jungkook would be difficult, and why leaving him would be the same. 

Yoongi looks at you earnestly. He’s always known about you being guarded, keeping parts of yourself that you don’t really share with others. This is the farthest you’ve let him into your world, and he sees so much of Jungkook in you. There’s that fear of not being wanted but also of being wanted; you’re scared of not being enough to be loved but also of not loving the other person enough. You’re unable to express how you feel because you don’t know if the person will respond with the same vulnerability and honesty, and you don’t like baring yourself with no one there to tell you it’s alright.  

All of it feels like how his friend is. He’s seen it since the moment Jungkook stepped foot into the office a year ago; he’s seen it everytime Jungkook disengages from you or gets mad at you; he’s seen it even when you’ve started to become comfortable with each other, and Yoongi has seen it these past weeks of Jungkook dealing with your departure, especially recently. 

“So after all that, you mean to tell me that you didn’t actually tell him how you feel?” Yoongi points out. “That he just overheard you say that you like him but you didn’t actually tell him? Not your feelings nor your fears, not your contradicting emotions, nor the fact that you want to be with him? Because I’m hearing you, ___. And all I hear is that you’ve found someone you’re willing to give your heart to but you’re too afraid to do anything about it. Even after he’s told you how he feels, because you don’t think that he would be open and honest enough to you to mean them.”

You let out a breath and pout, Yoongi’s words making it seem simpler than it actually is. In hindsight, maybe it is, because after everything that you shared, the first thing he points out is how, despite the obvious reciprocated feelings, you’re the one who’s afraid to give in.

“You talked about how Jungkook made you feel braver during the times you were scared and alone and hurt,” Yoongi says, seething at your experiences that made you look towards Jungkook for strength. “Why can’t you be brave enough for him? I mean, I get it that you want to leave the company, no one questions why you would. He did but he’s accepted it because he understands, but why do you have to let him go? Is it just because of the ties to his family? Or is it because you’re afraid of what he feels for you that isn’t tied to you being his assistant?”

His last question causes your face to fall, and Yoongi knows he’s hit a nerve.

“You’ve been living your life trying to prove that you’re more than your past, that you’re capable and that you deserve all that you have now,” he adds. “This job was your life. You told me before that you don’t know if you’d like yourself outside of it, and maybe you’re thinking that Jungkook wouldn’t, either.”

“I… don’t think I’m that great, Yoongi,” you confess. “I mean, just think about what the guys I dated said about me.”

“Those don’t count because they’re absolute jerks.”

“Even then, I… I’m terrible at a lot of things. I pull away, I get scared, I… I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. I don’t know if I want to be. I don’t know if I can, or what that even means,” you stammer. “For a second there, I let my guard down for Jungkook and—”

“He did the same and that terrifies you,” Yoongi finishes. “Being wanted back terrifies you. It’s why you feel confused and conflicted, ___. You have the chance to have something you’ve been yearning for and—”

“I’m scared I’d lose it,” you interject. “And I won’t if I don’t have it. I’m scared of heartbreak, Yoongi. I gave in when it came to Jungkook but I saw the possibilities with him and heartbreak was one of them. This is why I don’t give in to anything. I mean, it’s why I didn’t give in to you. I… I was scared we’d hurt each other and that I’d lose you and… I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now.”

“It’s good that you are,” he assures you. “Because do you see the difference? You didn’t give in to me but you did to him. You never know if the person is worth the pain until it’s there but you at least know that he’s worth a try. I wasn’t, and I don’t take offense, but that’s the point. He’s the guy you try for, ___. He’s the one you climb out your walls for. So don’t cower inside. Be brave for him this time.”

It’s a while before you’re able to say anything. The background chatter in the noodle house fades away in your mind as you take in Yoongi’s words. And he’s not wrong. 

You never told Jungkook what you felt; you didn’t know how to. You kissed him to express that, but you pushed him away just as quickly, but you never got to say anything else, especially after. And now you’re left to wonder - what was the fear really about? And what was the need to let go of him because of it?

You’re scared of a lot of things; you’re scared of every single thing you want to have. You learned some time ago that Jungkook was the same, but you think that you’re probably more terrified than he is. 

You’re a walking contradiction, too - you want to cut ties with him because it reminds you of a past you don’t want to be defined by, but in doing so, you’re cutting yourself off as what you started as - his assistant, and you’re scared to be anything else but that. You were good at it - you were competent, capable; you managed his life and the team well. But being with him means you have to be someone else for him - his partner, his companion, his lover, and you don’t know how to be those things for him. You don’t know if you’d like yourself, and so you don’t know if he’d like you if you tried. And that scares you.

But like Yoongi said, you thought Jungkook was at least worth it; you wouldn’t have kissed him if you didn’t, even if you thought it was a moment of weakness. You just have to follow through with that belief this time, and be brave enough to not just want him because you do; you have to be brave enough to let him want you back. You have to be brave enough to believe that he’ll stay. 

“How… how do I do that? How do you become brave for someone?” You finally ask. 

Yoongi relaxes in his seat, his eyes the most comforting they’ve ever been. 

“You just tell them how you feel,” he says. “You face it head on because you know that there’s something more important than a possible heartbreak, and that’s losing on the possibility of happiness with them.”

You let out a breath. You know Yoongi’s right. You’d said that you want to know how it’s like to be truly happy with Jungkook, and it’s this paralyzing fear and stubbornness that’s keeping you from finding out. But you suppose that when you’ve gotten used to keeping a lot of things in, just telling someone how you feel isn’t that easy.

“It’s hard for you, I know,” he continues, reading your mind. “But how would you learn what your heart is capable of if you don’t follow it?”

“Then you’ll just risk it getting broken,” you argue.

“You do,” he hums. “Hearts break. But it’s not the only thing they do.”

The words are simple, just as the thought is. You almost feel embarrassed that Yoongi has to remind you of these things, about the inevitability of pain and loss and how it should be worth it in the end. But the fear comes from somewhere, from a heart that’s close to your own that shattered so many times, you wondered at one point if it was still capable of loving. 

“I told you that I never met my dad, right?” You share, willing to bare a bit more of yourself to him. “He left before I was born because he wasn’t ready. But mom… Mom loved him deeply. I found a photo of them under her pillow one time and I asked her about it, and she had me lay my head on her lap while she told me about him. I was around 6 years old and probably didn’t understand much but I felt her tears drop on my cheek, and then everyday for weeks, I’d hear her cry, all alone in her room. And somehow, she just cried harder every time I hugged her.”

You remember those days. You learned what it felt like to have your heart broken at that age, and it was because of seeing your mom try to smile through glassy eyes; it was hearing her tell you that she loved you, even if the other half of you was the reason why she was hurting in the first place.

“Eventually a man came along and he made her laugh until he stopped,” you continue. “Until all he could do was hurt her. And that… that felt worse. She’d just learned to share herself again but then he just broke her. And I… I felt that, too. I felt it every time she hugged me, kissed me, covered my ears to drown out his yelling… I felt it every time I had my head on her lap so I wouldn’t see her break down.”

Your eyes wander into the streets outside, recalling those difficult years when your mother protected you, even as she was in pain herself.

“They say that a parent feels the pain their child is feeling,” you say. “I guess it’s true for children, too. I felt her pain, I felt her heart break. Her heart was my heart. And I guess ever since then I’ve just been scared for it to happen to me, knowing how much it hurts. It took years before she could recover. That was hard, too.”

“How long did it take her to give Min-woo a chance?”

“Years,” you shake your head. “She was so cautious. But he stuck around, and she realized he was worth it all. And she gained two other daughters who adore her in the process.”

“Her heart was your heart,” Yoongi repeats your words. “And all she did was love. That means your heart is capable of just as much. It’s just as strong, too.”

You’ve never thought about it that way. You've always believed that the one thing you took from your mother was her grace. Perhaps if you tried, you’d learn that you took her strength, too. Maybe her unyielding ability to care. Perhaps it’s her faith in what she was capable of no matter how broken she may be. 

“I… I needed this,” you tell Yoongi, your eyes misty at his words. “It’s been hard understanding myself lately. And you, you just know me. You know what to say all the time.”

“It’s because I risked something, too, when I told you how I felt about you all those years ago,” he replies, the reminder of his unrequited feelings no longer awkward for either of you. “And at the end of it, I learned how I could care for you, and that I could care for you much better as a friend.”

“And well, you’ve been an amazing one to me, especially this past year.”

“Good, so for my sake, especially since you and Jungkook give me so much headache,” Yoongi laughs, “remember everything I said, okay? Your heart is capable of so much. So please give it a try and follow it. I doubt it will be broken this time around.”

You spend the entirety of Sunday at home, cleaning up the place and tending to your growing collection of plants. It was a cool enough day for you to walk up the neighborhood to buy some things from the store, and as Yoongi’s words from the night before ring in your head, you find yourself hurting more at the absence of Jungkook in your life. 

There’s a new recipe for fried rice that you saw online, and he was your first thought because you think he’d like it. You read an article about Lee Jaemin in the morning where she mentioned the Arts Center, and you wanted to share it with him and gush over her words. His favorite Japanese chef has opened a new restaurant in Insadong and you wonder if he’s already tried it. The playground at the park is closed because they’re doing repairs after you told the council about how rusted the swings have become at Jungkook’s suggestion. 

They’re little things, really, and you realize even more just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him, and how much of himself he’s shared as well. Whatever lines that were drawn up due to your respective positions were crossed long ago, even before that kiss. It started when you both started to care for each other, and when you both started to wish for the other’s happiness and healing. On your end, you’d hoped you’d be a part of that and that he’d be a part of yours. You don’t think that has changed though.

There are still many things you want to share with him, you realize again, especially on that Monday afternoon when you find yourself at Rkive Publishing for your contract signing that has you looking at Namjoon in question. 

“Are… are you sure?“ you ask him, as you read through the document. 

He’d sent a version of this for your review a few days ago and you’d given your verbal confirmation. You expected to come today to just sign the contract, but he asked you to review it again since he made a few changes. The salary is one of them. 

“Are you asking me if I’m sure of offering you a higher compensation package?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. 

“Y-yes?” You say. “I mean, not that I don’t prefer it but… why?” 

You knew that working for a smaller organization, and for a publishing company at that, despite having a higher position and more responsibilities meant that your pay wouldn’t be significantly different from what you were getting at the Jeon Corporation. You’d accepted that, and it was something you’d talked about with Namjoon. But still, this little bit of increase is something you hadn’t expected.

“We’ll, let’s just say that we’ve had many applicants in the past who oversold themselves. You did the opposite,” he responds. “You impressed me and the panel enough with your resume and interview and we thought you were a good fit but that recommendation letter from your company’s President showed us just how qualified you were, and that there’s so much potential there. I was also able to speak with your most recent boss.”

“VP Jeon?”

“Yes, I was on a call with him last Friday. He elaborated on the strengths you’d mentioned and that Mr. Jung had noted,” Namjoon responds. “They’re top executives of a well-known company who have worked closely with you, who saw your growth, and can attest to your potential. Given all those qualities, we thought it was just fair that we increase your compensation. We’ve learned it’s important to trust and be committed to our staff, and this is how we show that.”

“This… this is deeply appreciated,” you manage to say, not realizing just how valuable the references were. You check to see that your responsibilities didn’t change much, so you know that this is really them, believing in your worth.

“We’re looking to expand in the next few years and are working towards establishing our position in the industry,” he adds. “We don’t just need competent individuals - we need leaders, we need people of good character who can embody all the things that we stand for. We’re trying to build something here and someone like you would be a wonderful asset. You can help us grow, ___. And I, well,” he continues, shyly smiling. “I just really wanted to make sure that we got a good start. Your role is critical. It’s also one of the toughest ones out there and I wanna show you that we want you here. I mean, I was sure a lot of companies were trying to get you and we’d have to compete for you.”

“I was already convinced early on, Namjoon,” you assure him. “To be honest, meeting you at the bookstore that day felt like some sign from the universe that it was time for me to carve my own path. I guess I didn’t just need a new environment, I needed a blank slate, too, where I could start over and feel like I was really doing this for myself, that I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else, not even to me.”

“Glad I took a chance on talking to you, then, even if I sort of freaked you out,” he chuckles. “I’m still sorry about that.”

“It was fine,” you laugh. “In hindsight, I’m also glad you did. I told you, it was a moment that stuck with me. It’s what pushed me to learn about what you’re all doing here, to learn about you. I… I do well when I’m surrounded by good people, by those who believe in their work, and those who believe in others. I know it won’t be easy but I already know I’ll thrive here. So thank you for giving me this chance, too.”

You and Namjoon talk some more and then lock in a date for your first day. You agree to start in three weeks - that gives you enough time to properly rest and mentally prepare yourself for this new phase. You’ll still be in a fast-paced and high-stress environment, but you’ll control your time and directly manage a team. Everything’s going to be new, and you want to be ready when it all happens, which is also why you’ll be doing your onboarding a few days before. 

“I wanted to give this to you,” he says, handing you a book as he walks you out the door. “I always give one to new staff as a form of welcome because books are our heart and soul, you know?”

“This is lovely, Namjoon,” you smile at him. “This will definitely be my companion for the next few weeks.”

“Good. It’s always meaningful to have something tangible like this,” he smiles back. 

There’s warmth in the way he does it, as if every time he talks about books, it elicits special memories. You think being around someone like that will be good for you, as you try to hold onto good memories yourself despite the sadness you still feel.

“I hope you like it,” he says before bidding you goodbye. 

You walk through the neighborhood and picture yourself going through this route everyday. It’s definitely nothing like the busy streets that you’re used to. There are more trees and quaint cafes and boutique stores here, and even just this change is already making you feel lighter; you can imagine getting over your stress with surroundings like this. You suppose that’s how Namjoon remains as calm and hopeful as he is despite his responsibilities - there’s so much energy you get just being outdoors, and it’s something you decide you’ll do today. 

You have all the time in the world now, so you grab coffee then head to a park to enjoy the early summer cool air. 

The book that Namjoon gave you is a novel published five years ago about a woman who quit her job in search of herself. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, as in such a short time, you've come to know him as a thoughtful man who’s very assuring, and you suppose this is his way of telling you that everything will be okay as you take on this new journey alongside him. The bright color palette of the design seems to reflect the hopeful subject of the book, and right as you’re about to start reading, the sound of children laughing catches your attention.

There’s a playground nearby, and your mind immediately goes to Jungkook. There’s an image of him looking happy and safe in a place that made him feel those things that you keep in your heart. You don’t know how he looks like as a child but you can somehow imagine a little boy riding the swing and coming down the slide with the softest smile and thinking that he can do and be anything he wants, that he feels capable enough for it, and that he’s able to share that joy with whoever who’s with him.

You think about earlier when Namjoon was talking about your capabilities and how you were able to see yourself the way Jungkook and Hoseok see you as a professional. You think about how it felt being supported that way, how their trust and confidence in you made you trust and be confident in yourself, too. There’s this pride you feel at being able to make that much of an impression on your new boss early on and there’s no stress, there’s no pressure. 

Sure, you want to show that all those aren’t empty words, but there’s no urge to prove yourself that you earned your spot unlike how you’ve been these past nine years. There’s just this desire to live - work is a part of it but so is reading stories, meeting people and learning about them, walking through quiet streets and appreciating the sunlight peeking through the trees. There’s this yearning to experience the day and not just survive it. 

You look at the book in your hands and know that someday, you’ll be holding one that you had a hand in creating. And it would be something that you poured your heart and soul into, one that you experienced in its entirety, and it would make you so happy knowing that you could touch it, that you can hear it, that you can see the story come to life in your mind.

You trace your fingers down the front cover and realize that this beautiful thing is tangible. And then you realize another thing - happiness is tangible, too. You’d felt it, you’d heard it. You’d seen it smile at you. You’d felt its lips against yours, too, but then you pulled away and became too afraid to take it back. Happiness was so close - it breathed you in, it held you close; it wanted you, and you were too scared to let it stay.

You spent so many years chasing it. You’d found it in your friends and your new family, but there was always something more that you wanted, one that you couldn’t find. Until him. And you’re slowly learning just how painful it is to let it slip away.

Jungkook stays in your mind for the rest of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to share about your day. 

You want to tell him that you felt a little shy when Namjoon was praising you but that you felt proud of yourself. And that you wanted to thank him. 

You want to tell Jungkook that your new work environment is quite charming, that the surrounding areas are inspiring, and that you might just start spending time outdoors from now on. And that you wish you get to explore it with him. 

You want to tell him that you’re excited to start your new job and that you’ll maybe start reading books because you’ll have a hand in creating the finished products. And that you want to share that with him, maybe make him read it, too.

You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have doubted what he felt, that you should've stood by your feelings regardless and fought for them. You want to tell him that you don’t regret quitting, but that you regret losing him in the process. That no matter how hard you try, he’s still the one you look for, the one you want to talk about your day with, the one you want to share your dream and hopes to. 

Jungkook has made you feel free in a way that you hadn’t before - an irony, considering that working for his family made you feel constricted, burdened, stagnant. But there are so many possibilities with him, so many reasons - to smile, to be brave, to hope, to yearn for more, to believe that you deserve good things that you can touch. And you want to know what those are like; you don’t want to lose out on that chance and lose him completely. 

Perhaps all you had to do was free your heart so it could feel what it’s supposed to. Like what Yoongi said, maybe you just had to follow it to know what it could do. 

It’s why on Thursday of that week, you find yourself inside his office with an envelope in hand, as you hope that actually freeing your heart and following it isn’t too late. 

You were scheduled to come today so you could get your final pay and sign some documents with HR. You arrived mid-morning and got to those right away. It didn’t take long, which is why you were able to pass by Hoseok’s office to update him about your new job and thank him for the recommendation. You headed to the support team’s office after, and they were quick to make lunch plans with you. Jungkook’s at the Arts Center, they said, so they can take their break in half an hour, but they can’t be out long. There are lots of things they have to do with the opening happening on Friday of the next week.

Lucas told you that he’d found some of your supplies that you’d left and they’re in a drawer in his desk, and you told him that you could get them yourself. They were easy to find, and you took the time to leave little notes for him in between folders and files; you figured that finding them on days when he doesn’t expect them could give him encouragement somehow. 

Jungkook’s door was slightly opened, and you took the chance to enter and take in a piece of him. The last time you were here, it felt like there was so much you still couldn’t say, there were feelings you were too afraid to face and words you weren’t sure he wanted to hear. Being back here, you feel a lot braver, and you know it matters that now, you’re trying to be brave for him. 

You stand in front of his desk, almost cradling the letter you’d written last night. You’ve spent the past days outdoors, finding cafes and quaint spots in areas that you’ve never explored before. You’ve been reading the book, too, and the more time you spent by yourself - not being tired, not being stressed, not feeling lost or burdened - the more you realized just how much you’ve been missing and yearning for things. And that you deserved whatever it was you wanted, and that included Jungkook. 

The life you’d started to live without him convinced you that the intimacy and connection you’ve been desiring is something you can find with him. You want to know what that’s like; you want to know how happy you could be with him, and you’ll only know it if you express it to him this time. You owe it to him to do that; you’re scared that any more time apart will push both of you farther away, too far to pull the other back because the anchor wasn’t set securely in the first place. You don’t want him to be your what if; you don’t want him to be your biggest regret.

Telling him how you felt was another thing, though, and writing a letter took you longer than expected. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you could only hope he’ll see your sincerity through it, and that he’ll still want you, even if it took you quite a while to accept what he felt, too.

His desk isn’t as organized as it usually is, but you place the envelope on top of a folder of blueprints that you know he’s going to get to soon. You know how he is - he always likes his things in their proper place. The center is the urgent pile so you know he’s gonna find this once he gets back and that maybe, he’ll go to you right after, hopefully to tell you that he still wants you, that he still wants to be with you, and that like he’d asked before, you’ll figure things out together. 

There’s fear just as there’s excitement. You hope at the end of all this, you’ll find yourself in his arms - everything forgiven, with nothing but more good memories you’ll create. 

You head out to lunch with the team shortly after and hold off on asking how Jungkook’s doing or about the changes in the Arts Center. Everyone looks tired enough as it is and you don’t want them thinking about work during their break, so you settle on talking about your new job and how excited you are. They’ll be supporting the books, they say; you can’t help but think again about how much you want to share them with Jungkook, too. 

You spend the rest of the day at home, waiting for that phone call from him or perhaps, his knock on your door. You’re unsure if he’ll come today; you don’t want to think that he wouldn’t, even if he has reasons not to want to see you anymore after what you’ve done. 

But the hope lives, as you convince yourself in the evening that maybe he got back to the office late and hadn’t seen your letter. 

You do the same thing the next day - you stay at home, hesitant to leave in case he comes, and then tell yourself that there’s a reason why he hasn’t shown up at your door yet. 

You do it again the day after, then the next, and then again.

The hope remained but it has now withered away. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he still hasn’t come.

Jungkook sinks in the seat of his desk, breathing heavily as he tries to catch a break. It’s not much, but it’s the only moment he has of complete silence where he forces himself to not do or think about anything. He gives himself only ten minutes each day for this, other than when he’s sleeping. He does it only between meetings or calls or visits to the Arts Center, which he fits all in one day. 

It’s only 2PM on Thursday but it might as well be late on a Friday evening. He’s exhausted, as if he hasn’t rested for days, as if he hasn’t been sleeping properly, and as if he hasn’t stopped working. And all of those are true. 

Ever since he’d decided on making changes in the Arts Center, he’s been going nonstop. From drawing up the design, purchasing materials, to constructing the room, Jungkook has been doing it all, on top of managing the rest of the work being done. He’s employed the help of Yoongi and a project manager to help him, but Jungkook has been the one making all the decisions, and that definitely didn’t go well with his father. 

He caught the ire of the old man right away, with the CEO scolding him for doing this weeks before the opening and for going over budget, which is why Jungkook stays in the Arts Center most of the day, going in the afternoon and then staying or returning at night, doing the manual labor himself so he doesn’t have to pay more for the workers. He paints the walls as well as some of the furniture, and that’s taken so much of him these past weeks, especially his time, time that he’d taken away from seeing you. 

He wasn’t really present during your last days at the company. He approved all your leaves and he was sincere about having you take them, but during the days when you were in the office, he was barely there. He was either physically at the Center or his mind was. 

Other times, he was performing his executive functions, with Hoseok reminding him of his Vice President duties. Jungkook had neglected some of them, as evidenced by his messy desk that’s giving him a headache. He’s always been organized with his things but not recently, not when all he’s been doing is working himself to the bone like what he’s used to. But this has more at stake for him; this isn’t just some structure or room he’s building. It’s so much more.

One other thing he’s been doing is regretting that he wasn’t there during your last day to bid you goodbye and to see you for the last time, it seemed like. He wished you well and thanked you, even if there was more he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and he wouldn’t have handled lingering, too, if that would give you a chance to say something more to him that would make him express what he’s really feeling, and he’s scared that would push you further away. 

He was never good at that. The one time he told you what he wanted and felt, things didn’t go right - the timing was off, you doubted his sincerity, and there was so much you kept hidden from him. He hasn’t known what to do nor say since then, which is why he’s doing what he’s doing for you. It’s more than the words he doesn’t know how to say; it’s something he won’t regret as it expresses everything that’s been in his heart, and it’s lasting, it’s constant, it’s comforting; it’s everything he wants to be for you. 

But then again, all this work kept him from seeing you for the last time, and it’s a reminder again of how he’s been living his life - diverting his attention to other things instead of facing what’s important. 

There’s not much he can do now, though. Everything has been completed. All the certifications have been secured, all the invitations are out, the promotion for the opening is all over social media, and the support team is on top of everything that’ll take place tomorrow. With the end of it just within reach, he’s able to take a breath, and it’s why he’s able to extend his short break to 15 minutes. 

The Arts Center is being cleaned and security checked, so he has no choice but to stay away from it until it opens tomorrow. So right now, he has the time to work on his other responsibilities, such as draft plans for a project that Hoseok’s working on that he’d asked Jungkook to review. 

“I had Lucas leave the blueprints on your desk last week,” the older man says over the phone after being asked if the files are still with him. “You should see it right away. It was urgent so I told him to put it at the center.”

“Well, that’s one of many that’s apparently urgent,” Jungkook sighs as he sees the pile of documents in front of him. It seems like he’s neglected a lot of other things this past week. “When did you say you left them?”

“Thursday morning,” Hoseok responds. “You would’ve seen them immediately.”

“I would’ve… except I haven’t really been at my desk in days.”

Which is the truth. Jungkook has been sitting on his desk only to go through his emails and then signing documents that Lucas gives him before heading to meetings and the Arts Center. It’s been his schedule this entire week, which is why he hadn’t seen the designs that Hoseok’s talking about. And as Jungkook goes through the pile - of memos for checking, of studies from Yoongi - he sees something else that makes his heart drop.

The last time he found an envelope on his desk with your handwriting on it, his world took a complete turn. He remembers reading that resignation letter and thinking that he’d really screwed things up, that life wasn’t going to be the same without you next to him everyday, and that there was no way he could have you again after how things turned out. 

He doesn’t know what to expect with this, not when he hasn’t seen you in days, and not when he doesn’t know how you’re doing right now.

“Kook?” Hoseok says on the other end after the prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”

“Did ___ come to the office this week?” 

“She was here last Thursday. She signed some HR stuff and dropped by my room. Why?”

“She… she left a letter on my desk.”

“Oh… What does it say?”

“I… I haven’t opened it. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what’s inside,” Jungkook says, his hands trembling as he places it back down.

“It could be many things but you won’t know unless you read it,” Hoseok responds. “Both of you have been keeping your feelings to each other from each other, Kook. This… this might be something that changes that.”

“Did… did she say anything to you when she visited?”

“Just about her job. She seems content and excited. Whatever else she feels, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. So read it, and don’t worry about the designs. Those can wait.”

Jungkook drops the call, noting that he’ll thank his cousin later on. This letter is the most important thing right now, even if he’s nervous about what’s written on it. 

He finally opens the envelope and the first thing he sees are pictures - one of an empty playground, and another one of you on the swing, smiling. It’s been weeks without your smile, and remembering how much comfort it’s given him is what makes him calm down; it’s what makes him have the courage to read through the letter.

Jungkook,

I took the photo of the playground during my birthday trip using the gift you got me. We passed by a park on the way to one of the towns and we stayed there for a while. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. I felt a kind of comfort I’ve never felt before, and it made me think of how I feel when I’m around you. 

I was thinking of you, too, when Soomin took my photo. I seem to do that a lot, I’ve learned. I think of you and smile, and there’s this unfamiliar feeling of joy. There’s this yearning to feel it everyday, and that scares me. We kissed and the desire for you scared me even more. So did the thought that I can’t be what you need me to be despite what we feel, and that there's a possibility I’d get hurt along the way. 

But I learned that what scares me the most is losing you.

I don’t regret leaving, but I regret how I did it, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I got to tell you what I really felt, and I wish I realized much sooner that the happiness I’ve been looking for is one I can find with you. 

I’m scared of many things, Jungkook, but you make me braver. This is me being brave for you. Please come and find me. I hope it’s not too late. 

XX

Jungkook reads the letter one more time. It’s nothing like he imagined but everything he hoped. You’ve wanted him all this time; you still want him after everything. He senses the sadness and the hope in your words, and they’re things he feels, too. 

You want him to find you. And just like you, he hopes it’s not too late. 

He rushes out of his room and instructs Lucas to cancel all his meetings for the day. Jungkook heads to the support team’s office to tell Mr. Ri that there’s somewhere important they need to go. 

“Where to?” The older man asks once they get inside the car.

“___’s place,” Jungkook pants. “Get there as fast as you can.”

Mr. Ri doesn’t ask any more questions. He drives off and merely glances at the rear view mirror. 

“We’ll get to her,” he says. “One way or another, we’ll get to her.”

Jungkook could only hope, but when he gets to your apartment and finds it empty, that hope slowly fades. He’d call you but that’s not how he wants to fix things, he thinks. That’s not how he wants to ask you to be with him. He probably won’t even be able to say what he really means. So he tries one more, knocking and calling out your name, but no one comes.

“She’s not here,” someone calls out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Jungkook turns around and finds your elderly neighbor, a woman he’d seen that one day he visited you after you got injured. You’ve mentioned her a few times and how she sends over food on some nights and invites you for tea on some weekends. She looks kind and warm, and definitely curious.

“She… she asked me to find her,” he says dejectedly. “But I didn’t know she wanted me to. I didn’t see her letter right away and now… now it’s too late.”

“You’re the man she was waiting for,” she hums, walking closer. “She’s right, you’re very handsome.”

“She… she talked about me?”

“A few times. I asked about how she got home when she hurt her ankle and she said you helped her,” the woman smiles. “I don’t see anybody visit her other than her friends. And I’ve known her for years; I haven’t seen any other man she’s allowed in her home in all that time, nor has she talked about one. I knew then you meant a lot to her. But she said things were too complicated and that always held her back.”

“That always held me back, too,” he responds. He’d smile at the thought that you’ve talked about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone. There’s a reason why you stopped waiting. “Has she been well?”

“She has. She seems to have more life in her now. I always felt like her old job tired her out so much,” she says. “She’s excited to start fresh, and I’m proud of her. Oftentimes we stay in one place for too long and we just lose ourselves in it, you know? We lose sight of the things that make us happy and it was really brave of her to leave behind everything she’s known.”

“It was. I know that now,” Jungkook sighs. “Did she say if she found it? What makes her happy?”

“She did. She said she found you.”

The words hit him, as he knows it’s the same for him. You may have found each other in the place you’ve both been in for so long, but it’s losing each other that perhaps made you both realize what it was you couldn’t live without. Letting each other go showed what happiness actually looked like, and that neither of you wanted to be without it anymore.

“I found her too late, I think.”

“That’s for her to decide, though. You won’t know unless you look for her,” she hints. 

“When did she leave?”

“Tuesday afternoon. That was just two days ago. I doubt she’s changed her mind,” she smiles again. “Well, I’d love to stay here and chat but I have some grandchildren to pick up. And I believe you have someone to find.”

“I think I do,” he responds, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome,” she hums. “Get to her, okay? She deserves someone who won’t give up on her.”

You don’t, Jungkook agrees, as he nods in goodbye and heads back to the car. That’s not something he will do this time. All he’s done was let his fears and worries speak for him these past months and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, not when there’s more of you that he’ll lose. 

“She’s not home,” Jungkook responds to Mr. Ri’s questioning look. “I… I didn’t get to her in time.”

“Where to, then?”

Jungkook breaks as he imagines you in your apartment, waiting for him, wondering when he’d call or knock on your door. He can’t imagine you still doing that after he made you wait, but the one thing he’ll do this time is go to where you are and tell you everything he needs to. 

After the heartbreak he caused, he assumes you’d go to either your family or your friends. He remembers the way you’d talked about your mom in the past, and how her comfort was always the one you sought.

“Do you mind driving to Daegu?” Jungkook asks. 

“Not at all,” Mr. Ri smiles. “I figure she’ll be there, too.”

The long drive feels that much longer with Jungkook in the passenger seat, just looking out the window and watching the buildings and houses pass him by. He turns to the man next to him every once in a while, asking about how you were during your last weeks in the office.

“She was trying her best, making sure she had everything organized. She spent a lot of time with the team, too, and I think that lessened her guilt, because she felt that,” Mr. Ri shares. “She hated that she had to leave at this time, but I knew it meant a lot to her that she was finally doing it.”

Jungkook hums, thankful that the team assured you that it was all okay. But still, he wondered some more, and the look on his face is something that the older man reads. 

“She hated that she had to leave you, too,” Mr. Ri adds. “I think it mattered to her that she didn’t feel tied to your family through you, even if she was always going to be. It mattered that she made that choice to leave you, that she came to terms with who she is and her past and decided that it didn’t matter, that she still wanted you despite all of that.”

“You sound hopeful,” Jungkook laughs dryly. “That makes one of us.”

“You can tell how much someone cares by how they hurt, Jungkook. And during her farewell dinner when you didn’t show up, she… she was hurt,” Mr. Ri says. “I had to wipe her tears that night. I think that’s also when she realized how much she really felt for you, when she saw what life could be like without you and knew it wouldn’t make her happy.”

Knowing he made you cry again when he wasn’t there on your last day frustrates Jungkook. He held himself back that time, thinking that a short goodbye would be better for both of you. Then he spent the rest of the day at the Arts Center and he’d completely forgotten about the dinner. In his mind, he already let you go; seeing you another time would pain him again. But that’s what hurt you in return. 

“Why are you going after her now?” Mr. Ri bursts through his thoughts. “After all these weeks of avoiding her, of convincing yourself that letting her go was the right decision, why now?”

“It hurts so much without her. I guess it’s how I know.”

The older man gives a satisfied smile. He always knew that only both of you could decide for yourselves when the pain was too much because only both of you would really know what to do about it. You've done your part and now it’s Jungkook’s turn.

They make it to your neighborhood in over three hours, with only one stop over at a service center. It’s the house in the corner, Mr. Ri says, and realizing that you’re so close again, Jungkook starts getting anxious. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. He supposes that coming out here to see you on a work day is enough of a statement, and maybe you’ll both just take it from there.

The car stops and he looks at the man to his left, as if pleading to take the lead for now. 

“Aish,” Mr. Ri huffs. “Are you really gonna make me ring the doorbell and ask for her after driving you all the way here?”

“Yes,” Jungkook pouts. “I… I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn’t wanna see me because I made her wait too long? What if she’s angry? What if she realized while waiting for me that she made a mistake?”

“Over three hours sitting in the car and that’s what you came up with? That she’s angry?” Mr. Ri scowls. “Don’t make me think you’re hopeless.”

“Please?” 

The older man sighs, thinking that Jungkook just needs time to pull himself together before facing you. 

They both get out of the car, with Jungkook standing on the side of the entryway, hiding behind the shrubs just in case you answer the door. 

Mr. Ri rings the doorbell and not long after, the gate opens. And for all the years that Jungkook has known the older man - with his firm and often stoic disposition - this is the first time that he’s ever seen his face soften, the gentle smile appearing and lingering. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of appreciation it seems, before he says anything.

“Hye-soo. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Byung-hun,” the woman greets. “It’s been so long. When was the last time we saw each other? Was it ___’s 25th birthday?”

“I think it was. That was a really great day. Your house looked much different back then.”

“Who knew an old house needed repairs and renovations to stay up,” she laughs. “But it all worked out. We’ve got more space now.”

“Space enough for Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin to run about?” Mr. Ri chuckles. “I remember their tag game then. They complained how it always ended so fast. But ___ also told me they’ve grown up so much now. And that they adore you. How’s it like raising teenagers at this time?”

“Ah, difficult,” she chuckles. “But it’s wonderful. They… they truly see me as their mother and I… I get to do things right this time.”

“Hey, you always did,” he comforts, having seen her do everything she could for you. “No one could’ve raised and loved ___ better than you. You got through the toughest times because of that.”

“With a little help, of course,” she smiles. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you. And years later, you’re still looking out for her. That means the world to me.”

She’s where all my love goes to, Mr. Ri doesn’t say. He knew early on that the only way to not lose himself in losing her is to care for the one person she loves the most - you.

“And you? Have you been well?” Hye-soo asks. 

“As well as I could be,” he hums. “The stress isn’t the same as when I was working next to Jae-sung but he still tasked me to babysit his son; that in itself is a bit tough.”

“And why is that?” Hye-soo giggles, knowing there’s affection in his words.

“He’s a bit of a hard-head, you know? Pretty stubborn, too, just like his father,” Mr. Ri laments, disregarding the scrunched eyebrows of the man just meters away from him. “And he makes me drive all the way out here, only to be scared to face the woman he’s been looking for.”

“Is that so?” Hye-soo asks, picking up on the man in front of him gesturing towards the side. “I hope he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of.”

Mr. Ri finally turns to Jungkook, motioning for him to get out of hiding and do what he came here for. Jungkook sighs in his place, thinking that this is the first time he’s meeting your mother, and it’s after he’d made you wait and think that he doesn’t feel the same way. With his head bowed down, he walks towards the gate. 

There’s a softness on his face when he looks up, and Hye-soo beams in delight at how the man she hasn’t seen in over 20 years looks very much like the 10-year old boy who used to quietly draw cars and houses on the Jeon mansion living room floor. It’s that same shyness and those same wide and curious eyes that made her have a soft spot for the younger son. They reminded her so much of you. 

“Jungkook,” she says with such warmth. “You’ve grown up so well. It’s nice to see you after all these years.”

She definitely has your smile. It’s welcoming and assuring and perhaps the one thing he didn’t know he needed before seeing you. There’s so much comfort in her eyes, and there’s this subtle strength that she exudes, one that’s oddly giving him the courage to face you. 

“Mrs. Cho,” he bows. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I wish it was because of other reasons, though.”

“What’s wrong about the reason you have today?” She wonders. 

“A lot of things,” he sighs.

“Nonsense. You’re here. That’s all that matters,” she smiles. “Would you like to come in?”

“That would be great.”

Jungkook follows inside while Mr. Ri opts to stay behind. 

There’s something special about entering someone’s house. People spend time and energy to make it feel like home, to make it be a place of safety and warmth. It’s a place filled with all the things they care about, of all the things they love. 

Jungkook never designed the places he’s lived in; an irony, considering his profession. But his residences have always been a place for him to just move into, to just sleep and eat and work at. They’ve always been… empty - grand, expensive, well-designed, but empty. They’re superficial, he would say, a reflection of what he’s always felt. Which is also why he never really welcomes anyone other than his friends. The women he used to bring home don’t count - he’d let them in and make them leave; he never makes them stay long enough to be comfortable, to feel like they belong there. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like he belongs there, either, as if it’s a place reserved just for him to feel alone in. 

And so being welcomed in someone else’s home feels different. You’d done it to him, and being in your apartment both times made him feel at ease and familiar. Now, your mother welcomes him to the place where you grew up and it feels the same - there’s that comfort, that sense of nostalgia, even if he knows he’s never been here before.

“Welcome to our humble mansion,” your mother says. “Please, feel at home. Would you like some tea?”

“Uh, yes. Tea is fine,” he bows.

She heads to the kitchen and Jungkook is left to look around. It’s not a small house but it’s not large, either. He’s in the middle of a spacious living room, with shelves lining up the walls - one has family pictures in it, the other one has books and small framed paintings. The dining and kitchen are to the right; on the left is a hallway that seems to lead towards the bedrooms. There’s a screened door that also leads out the backyard. 

The entire space is airy, with lots of natural light coming through the windows. He spots some renovations done over time, as there’s some mismatch of materials, something only trained eyes could see. But they’re done well, and he could see the love that created this home for all of you. 

Your mother returns with two cups and places them on the table. She asks him to sit down, and Jungkook makes himself comfortable, facing the door as he gazes out at the sky and admires the beautiful changing of the colors. He knows you’d probably admire how it looks, too.

She observes him - nervous as he meets her eyes, a kind of desperation and fear evident as he constantly shifts on his seat. He’s grown up so much, but he’s still that shy little boy she remembers meeting all those years ago. She used to regularly go to the Jeon estate for some private events, and she won’t forget how Jungkook was the son who always kept to himself, content with a sketchpad and some crayons or riding the swing in his custom-built playground. 

“Do you remember me at all?” She wonders. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Did I see you often?”

“A handful of times,” she responds. “Your father introduced me to you and your brother when I first started and I’d see you whenever I had to go to your house. But you were always so shy.”

“I was, but I… I wasn’t really good at paying attention. And I guess, there were a lot of things from when I was younger that I don’t remember,” he explains. 

The faraway look in his eyes says that there’s more to that, that they aren’t just things he doesn’t remember but they’re memories he tries not to, that he blocks out. 

“I’m sorry about what you had to go through as a child,” your mother says, having wanted to express her apology for years, knowing how much the experience haunted him. “I involved your parents in a very personal matter and that deeply affected your family. It affected you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. And I know it wasn’t my parents’, either,” he sighs, feeling regret over the resentment he felt and the distance he created. 

“They were just trying to protect you. I hope you know that now.”

“I do,” he hums. “Do you… do you know what happened that night? In the woods?”

“Byung-hun told me,” she nods. “I’ve never seen him so broken over not finding you sooner. He carried that guilt with him, too, that he didn’t look out for you the way he should’ve.”

“I… I didn’t know that.”

“That man feels a lot even if he doesn’t show it. He’s got the biggest heart that I know and he cares for you so much,” she smiles. “A lot of people do. That includes my daughter.”

At the mention of you, Jungkook’s eyes perk up, the softness mixed with sadness evident once more.

“She and I didn’t want our ties to your family to be known,” she explains. “It was a way for us to move on from all that happened. But in no way did she mean to deceive you. She… she would talk about you with such admiration and fondness. And you showed her that it was okay to let people in, that it could be worth it to follow her heart. She’d hoped that you could see past her decisions and know that she was sincere about everything. That she was sincere about what she felt for you.”

“I… I know that now.”

“And I suppose that’s why you’re here?”

“It is,” he sighs, wanting so badly to see you, even if he doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to. “Is she around?”

There’s a prolonged silence after his question, and your mother’s eyes flit to the far end of the house before they return to him. 

“She, uh, she picked up the girls from school and decided to have dinner out and watch the movies,” she excuses. “I’m not quite sure what time they’ll arrive. And it’s a shame that you came all the way here. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”

Jungkook debates whether he should wait to say all this to you, perhaps when you’re ready and able to see him, or to say what he can now, knowing it’s important that he gets to express whatever he can at this moment, knowing it will get to you somehow. 

But he also doesn’t know how much longer he can hold everything in. All the emotions he feels for you - the regret, the yearning, the desire to have you next to him - have been festering and he just needs to say them. Maybe doing so in front of your mother might be a bit of pressure, but if there’s anyone who can relay all this to you, it would be her.

“There’s a lot of things I’m not good at, Mrs. Cho. Opening myself up is one of them,” he starts. “But your daughter, she… she showed me that it wasn’t so bad. That it’s something I’m capable of doing, and that it’s safe to do that with her. Even when I distanced myself, she didn’t go anywhere, and that does a lot for a person.”

“She’s quite stubborn, isn’t she?” Your mother laughs, remembering those hard times when she’d tell you to get ready for bed, with you disobeying her because you wanted to hold her hand while she cried.

“She is,” he echoes. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her. One of many, actually. She’s also so patient and gentle and understanding… everything I’m not but… all the things I want to be for her. And I wish I’d told her all this when I had the chance but I was so blinded by my own needs that I… I eventually pushed her away. But she was still the one to reach out. She left that letter but I only saw it today and I…”

“Came all the way here to see her,” she finishes. 

“Is it too late, do you think?”

“Between the both of us, not at all,” your mother smiles. “She’s all those things you said but she’s human, Jungkook. She gets scared, too, and hard-headed and tired and upset because she feels so much when she allows herself to do that. And sometimes she needs someone to just show her that it’s worth it, that having fears is valid but that they’re not the only things out there. And you being here… I think it’s what she needs.”

She pauses so he could process her words, meeting his eyes so he could feel them even more. 

“You’re all she thinks about, you know? She likes being home with us and she’s excited for her new job but I can tell that there’s something missing. And I know that's you.”

“She’s all I think about, too,” he expresses, feeling more at ease now. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, I just always think about being with her. And I know that made her doubt, too. I’ve gotten so used to her presence but that’s not out of necessity. I’m not… a boss when I’m with her. I’m just… me. Because she made me see myself as someone beyond all that I do, someone worthy, and it’s that person who wants her, who needs her.”

Jungkook bows his head, angry at himself as all the words come out now, at a time when you’re not in front of him to hear them, to see that he means all of them. For weeks, all the things you said rang in his mind and every time you were in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to say but he never could, afraid of your rejection, of losing you for good. Now they’re out in the open, but somehow the words don’t seem enough. He realizes that when it comes to what he feels for you, nothing is. 

“These are the things I should’ve said to her but I just got overwhelmed at the thought of losing her,” he continues. “I don’t want that, Mrs. Cho. I don’t want to lose your daughter. I want to be with her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be scared anymore, that I want to protect her and take care of her. I want to make her happy.”

It’s the most he’s said about how he feels for you, and he feels quite overwhelmed about expressing them. But he has to say them. You have to know, even if you’re not the one in front of him. They’ll get to you, he’s sure of it.

“I know she wants that, too, Jungkook. And seeing you now, I just know you’ll find your way to each other again, and you’ll both be free from whatever it was that was holding you back,” she assures. “But if it’s not too much, do you mind being a little patient with her this time?”

“Of course,” he nods, knowing that everything that’s happened could make you a bit cautious again, and that’s not something he could blame you for. He’ll give you as much time as you need, and you’ll be the one to find him once you’re ready. “I’ll just be where I always am. And uh, the Arts Center opens tomorrow. It would be great if she could come.”

“She’ll know where to find you,” she smiles. 

He feels that he’s said all that he could, so he finishes his tea and stands up. He remembers that he bought something for you, initially hoping that it would make you smile once he gave them. 

“Could you, uh, could you give this to her?” He asks, handing your mother a plastic bag, somehow feeling ashamed that this is all he got as a peace offering. 

She peeks inside, her eyes widening in delight.

“Chocopie?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles shyly. “I would’ve given her flowers but I just thought this would make her happier. ___ told me that it’s her favorite because you’d give it to her as a treat while she waited for you to get off work at the school. She said it always made her day.”

“This was your favorite, too, wasn’t it?” Your mother asks. 

“It was. My mother said I always hoarded the ones she’d bring home and wouldn’t share it with anyone,” Jungkook chuckles, recalling those days of stacking them in his room and quietly eating them while he drew houses on his drawing pad. 

“You shared it to ___, though,” she says.

It catches him by surprise. He’s never done that, as far as he knows. This is the first time he’s even getting it for you. 

“That night those years ago, after I told your father what was happening, he offered us to stay at the staff house of your family’s estate until I’ve sorted things out,” she recalls. “We were in the living room while your parents talked to me and there was little ___, hiding behind my legs. I noticed her let go for a bit and that’s when I saw you, handing her some chocopie. She was always a shy kid but she took what you were giving, and I remember the smile on her face. Everything was new and scary for her and that… that was the first time she smiled that day. And I’ll never forget it.”

Jungkook stands in silence, as much of his memories from those years have been buried deep in his mind. He remembers hiding away whenever there were visitors at home but perhaps he looked on, curious about the girl who seemed scared and maybe something prompted him to share the treat with you, and something pushed you to take it. 

“I thought she was just being nice,” your mother continues. “She didn’t really like sweets then but she ate the ones you gave her. And when I’d take her to the convenience store after that, it’s what she always picked out. I’ve just been getting it for her since then, and that’s probably what she remembers but it was you, Jungkook. You’re why I bought it for her every time.”

“We’ve… we’ve met before. And I didn’t even know,” he manages to say, thinking now about the familiarity of your presence and the need to always look out for you. 

It’s something he always wondered about, how someone could just pull him in and make him feel things he’d never felt before - that comfort, that warmth, that desire to be good for someone else. It turns out, he’d felt those long before he knew much about the world. And while so many things happened that got both of you here, there’s still something serendipitous about not realizing you met as kids, and then finding each other decades later. There’s all this pain and sadness between the both of you, much of them intertwined, but at the end of it, you heal each other, you make each other stronger, braver. 

“She didn’t know, either,” your mother hums. “And this just means that she always kept something of you from that day. Without realizing it, you were always a good memory that she kept; you let her forget the bad things even though she'd forgotten about you, too. It’s how I know that even if she’s not the one in front of you right now, her heart will always search for you.”

Your mother’s smile is reassuring, as if she knows that it’s what he needs. He’d meant to find you today and tell you everything he feels, but somehow he believes it would’ve been hard for him to do that, and so expressing it is all he could do. He feels like he’s gotten so much despite not seeing you though. Learning that missing part of his childhood that had you in it is overwhelming enough, but perhaps it reinforces what he’s known all along - that his heart will also always search for you, it’ll always find you, and it will always be what he wants to hold close to him.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your home, Mrs. Cho,” he says as he bows another time and heads out to leave. “It means a lot meeting you today.”

“It does for me, too,” she states, leading him towards the door and out to the street where Mr. Ri waits. “And thank you for being good to my daughter. She’ll find you. You have to trust that she will.”

He nods, knowing he’ll just have to have faith in what you feel for him. And he hopes that as he walks away and gives you the space you need, you’ll trust in what he feels for you, too.

Your mother bids you and Mr. Ri goodbye, the longing look between friends hitting Jungkook deeply. They’re each other’s what if’s, and while one was able to live out another love, the other kept living out the one he let go of. It’s painful, and Jungkook now can’t imagine making that choice of letting you go completely. 

Love is a big word. It’s something he’s forgotten how to feel. He knows there’s still so much more to experience with you and love could be one thing, and that’s a possibility he’s sure he wants to live out one day.

He enters the car and sighs as he sinks in his seat. It’s been a long day and an even longer trip back home, but Mr. Ri insists that they take it.

The older man starts the car and looks dejectedly to his side. “So, she wasn’t there, huh?”

It takes a while but Jungkook answers. “She was.”

It’s a wild guess, but somehow he knew you were there, probably inside one of the opened rooms or in the hallway, just meters away from him but still so far away. Your mother had said you were out, but the way her eyes constantly flitted elsewhere, the way she gave him the time and space to just talk and express his feelings, and the fact that she’d shared that story about both of you meeting as children as if she meant to say it to you, too, all told him that you were right there. 

Maybe you hadn’t expected him to come. Maybe you didn’t know what to say this time. Or maybe you thought that seeing you would leave him tongue-tied again, unable to express everything he means, and you wouldn’t be wrong. He just focused on what he felt and not the right things to say or how you’d react at that moment, and he supposes that allowed him to be vulnerable, too. 

“And you’re not there with her because?” Mr. Ri wonders. 

“Because she needs time,” Jungkook states. “And it’s the least I could give her. And I’ll wait until she’s ready. We’ve spent all these months avoiding each other, thinking that letting each other go is the way to move forward but I… I know that’s not what I want. She is. And I’ll show her I mean it.”

“Well, you went to her. And that’s not all you’re doing.”

“I’m not good with words, you know that,” Jungkook shakes his head.

“I do. She knows that, too. So when she sees everything that you’ve done… she’ll know you mean it.”

It's the assurance that Jungkook needs, and he’ll hold onto that, too, until the time you find him again. Right now, he’ll focus on the Arts Center - he owes it to you to make sure that all the work you put into it is worth it. He knows you’ll want that, too. 

The long drive to Daegu had him think about how much of yourself you’ve given to the project that means the world to him. You may have done so because it was your job, but he can’t help but think that in the midst of it, you saw what he was yearning for, what he was trying to attain for himself, and that it mattered to you that he did. 

Jungkook and Mr. Ri go to a restaurant for dinner on the way back to Seoul, and the serious expression on the older man’s face has returned. This is his default state, but his soft, longing look is something that Jungkook won’t forget soon.

“How was it like seeing her after all these years?” Jungkook wonders. “Does… does it still hurt, knowing what could have been and the life she lives now?”

It takes a while but Mr. Ri finally replies. “In an alternate universe, Hye-soo and I are living with our family on some farm. We talked about that a few times, about wanting to grow old in a place that’s peaceful,” he recalls, all those long drives and hectic days becoming worth it whenever he shared them with her. “But this is the universe and lifetime I’m living now. The decisions I made brought me here, but they also set her free. You’ve met her, you’ve seen her home. She’s happy where she is and even if it’s not next to me, that’s the life I always wish she’d have.”

Jungkook hums, unable to fully comprehend the heartbreak of letting someone go like that, and then seeing them live a life that he could’ve shared with them. Thinking about meeting you at a park or something years from now, perhaps with a husband or children, and then wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you go plagues him. That’s not the life he wants. It’s not a decision he wants to make, and he could only hope that neither do you. 

He looks across at the man in front of him with all that love for the woman he can’t have, and Jungkook wonders where all of that goes, recalling a conversation from not long ago, when Mr. Ri first revealed about a woman he’s held onto for years. 

“Does it all go to ___, then? All that love?” 

“It does,” Mr. Ri hums. “It also goes to your family, Jungkook. It goes to you. Those have kept me going all these years and they always will, so seeing you and ___ care for each other means a lot to me, too.”

It’s a comforting thought, knowing that at the end of everything, Mr. Ri still finds happiness in others, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fall into a kind of despair that paralyzes him. Jungkook recalls growing up and seeing the older man always by his father’s side, joining him on his trips and then coming back with some treats that he gives to Jungkook and his brother. When he was in Singapore, Mr. Ri visited often, showing up whenever he had a project launch. Jungkook also knows that he stayed in Canada for a few months, helping Jeong-sik recover after an accident left him with broken limbs. 

And there was that incident that Jungkook carries with him, how he was powerless and alone under the rain but it was Mr. Ri who searched for him, who didn’t give up, who dealt with that guilt for years. And Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever thanked the man for all he’s done. 

They engage in light talk for the rest of dinner. Jungkook offers to drive the rest of the way home, insisting that it’s a way for him to preoccupy himself instead of thinking about you. They spend it recalling his growing up years, how he slowly isolated himself, and then how he gradually opened up again. The older man expresses how proud he is, that regardless of what happens after all this, Jungkook pursued his happiness, and that’s what matters.

“Thank you, for uh, for everything,” Jungkook says as he exits the car, hoping that his simple words would convey all his emotions. 

There’s a softness on Mr. Ri’s face this time, one that Jungkook has seen only twice in his lifetime, both of which were today. It speaks of care and warmth; he knows now that it also speaks of love.

You lay on your mother’s lap, needing the comfort you always felt whenever she held you close and ran her fingers through your hair. It’s something she always did when you were a child, and she knows that despite having grown up, you need it now just as much as you did before. She doesn’t say much, letting the silence of your bedroom envelope the both of you this Thursday evening. 

It’s been a roller coaster of emotions this past week, and today pretty much took you on a deep plunge that has you holding onto your chest and wanting the stability of being on the ground. After you left that letter on Jungkook’s desk last Thursday, you stayed in your apartment and waited for days. 

In hindsight, maybe it was silly that you stayed put when you could’ve called or gone back to his office in an attempt to talk to him. But you weren’t sure what he was feeling, if he was harboring resentment for how you chose to leave, or if he was too busy with the Arts Center opening to even think about you. He kept himself busy during your last weeks after all, and he missed your farewell dinner, too. 

That letter was your way of expressing yourself without the fear of outright rejection. And giving him that decision to find you was your way of telling him that it was his call, that if he still wanted you, you’d be waiting for him. And that’s what you did, day in and day out - you waited for that knock on the door or for the ring of your phone. 

It drove you crazy, thinking that you could be with him already, but the possibility of him also deciding that that’s no longer what he wanted plagued your mind; it’s what kept you from making that call or paying him a visit. There was that part of you that couldn’t help but think that he might’ve wanted things to just remain as they are. It made you realize that despite taking that step of being brave, there was still fear within you that held you back.

The hope dwindled by the weekend despite the comforting conversation you had with your neighbor, and on Tuesday afternoon, the sadness took over. You packed your bags and decided that if you were to get over this, being with your family is where you need to be. You knew your mother would convince you to wait for Jungkook a little longer. She’d be the reasonable one and say that maybe he’d missed the letter. And she may be right, but if you were to pursue him again, you knew you needed to be around people you loved to give you back that strength and confidence.

It turns out, your mother was right. Jungkook did miss the letter. It took him days to see it, and he didn’t waste his time and went to find you right away. Perhaps that certainty that you’ve been needing is what turns out to be the one that overwhelms you in the end. You walked out of your room to find him in your living room, and you froze. You stayed rooted in that hallway, listening to him talk about what he felt for you, and all you could do was hug your knees as you sat on the floor, taking his words in, hoping they’d heal your heart as quickly as his silence broke it.

“Do you think he knew I was there?” You look up to your mother in question. 

“I think he did,” she hums. “I doubt he would’ve said as much as he did to me, someone he’s just met, unless he knew you could hear him. He had this look on his eyes - it was sad and sincere, full of regret but also of hope. And it just felt like was baring himself right there, hoping you’d know exactly what he felt.”

You think about it. Knowing Jungkook, he wouldn’t have let himself be that vulnerable to someone that easily, even if it was in front of your mother. He’s not always able to express himself to you, and maybe that’s why. Maybe like you, he loses his words and caves in in front of the person he wants. It’s happened so many times to you, and it’s one reason you chose a letter to express your feelings; saying it to him directly with all the uncertainties just terrified you. 

But he’d been bold, he’d been honest. And you got to hear his every word, and you believed all of it.

“Why didn’t you want to see him?” she asks, given that you’d shaken your head when she looked at you after he’d asked if you were around. “What were you so afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It felt so long being without him, and I was holding onto this hope after leaving that letter and then the wait just… it discouraged me. Somehow seeing him there paralyzed me a little,” you explain. “Suddenly I wasn’t ready. I had all these feelings that were hanging in the air and to hear that he returned all those was just… I… I was overwhelmed because he was finally within reach.”

“Both of you are in this constant push and pull that’s keeping you from each other,” she points out. “At some point, you’ll have to just get over the fear and meet him where he is and he’ll have to do the same. No one wins in fear, darling. Weren’t you the one who told me I owed it to myself to give Min-woo a chance? You’re the one who said it was better to be scared with him next to me than to be scared alone.”

“Easy to say that when I’m on the outside, it seems,” you chuckle. “I get what you were feeling then, mom, and I understand now how hard it must’ve been.”

“That’s true, so you’re gonna have to trust me that what you said was true - it was better that I was scared with him next to me than if I was alone,” she repeats. “But I made that choice and it was the best one, because I can’t be any happier than I am now because I let him love me, and I allowed myself to love him. You and Jungkook could do that. You just have to trust that it’s all worth it.”

You nod. At the end of the day, you know it makes a difference that it’s your mother reminding you all of this. It’s her pain that you carried, it’s why you were always scared of opening up and sharing your whole self to another person. And it’s also why it matters that it’s her happiness that she reminds you of that pushes you to get over your fear, or at least, to choose to be with Jungkook in spite of it. 

She tucks you in bed and tells you to get some sleep now. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, she says, as you have to make that long trip back to Seoul in time for the Arts Center opening. 

“As your mother, I’m kicking you out of my house,” she teases. “You are to head out there and tell that man how you really feel, okay? I won’t allow you back here until he’s with you.”

“That’s unfair,” you pout.

“It is, but so is keeping yourself away from him,” she shakes her head. “You take after me so much. Stop being stubborn.”

You laugh this time, knowing that while it’s that stubbornness that pushed Jungkook to open up to you, it’s that same trait that’s keeping you away from him.

“I will. And I’ll head out tomorrow,” you promise. “I’m so tired of being sad.”

“Good. No one gets tired from being happy, so that’s what you should try to be.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, tightening his necktie and then spending half a minute to determine if it’s aligned or not. 

It’s something he’s started doing. It’s been weeks since you left and stopped doing it for him, and even if Lucas has pointed out a few times that it was crooked, the younger man never really attempted to fix it. Jungkook didn’t really have a choice but to learn how to do it himself. For an architect with trained eyes, he’s ironically terrible at assessing something as simple as this. He never knows if he’s done it right, and he’ll always be amazed at how you do it. 

He finally decides he’s done it correctly, and he takes his coat to complete his look for the biggest day of his professional life. He opts for the classic suit this time, needing that refinement and elegance that a Kim Taehyung tailored outfit gives. Despite his best friend’s suggestions of trying something a little different, Jungkook insisted that simple is what he wants - the attention shouldn’t be on him, adamant that a textured charcoal ensemble would do its job. The pattern differentiates it from an ordinary suit so he at least doesn’t blend in too much and it’s a good compromise. You agreed with him on this months ago, and hearing you assure him that it looks good on him is something he’s missing.

He shakes his head at the thought. Here he is again, his mind going to you. Perhaps it’s his body’s way of dealing with the nerves; somehow thinking of you calms him down even if you’re not around. You’ve always had that effect on him, and with the unveiling of most important project of his life as the company’s Vice President, that composure and confidence is what he needs. 

It doesn’t stop him from wishing that you’d taken to heart what he said yesterday, not just about what he feels but about finding him. You know most of the details of today’s opening, and if you wanted to, you’d come to show your support even if he kept you in the dark during your last weeks. And if you really wanted to, you’d come to tell him that you want to be with him, and that you’re not going to walk away this time. 

It’s difficult to have today, of all days, be somewhat of a determinant of how things are going to go for both of you. He’ll definitely wait for as long as he needs to until you’re ready to face him again, but if it’s not today, he’s afraid there’s more that’s holding you back, and that not getting to you early on must’ve really hurt you. 

But he’ll keep on, as so much has happened for this day to be as successful as he hopes it to be. Hoseok constantly reminds him of the entire team’s hard work and that it’s what will pull him through. But beyond the expectations from his parents and the Board and past the importance for the artists involved, this was Jungkook’s dream as a professional, and he made it happen. He’ll hold out hope until the last moment that he’ll see you there, though, but if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with your absence like he’s been doing these past weeks.

Jungkook exits his bedroom and gets approving looks from his best friends who’ll be his support system for today. He’d gone to the Arts Center early in the morning despite last night’s long trip back to Seoul, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. It took some reprimanding from his father to finally go home to fix up, the older man claiming that Jungkook will need to collect himself before all the activities in the afternoon. 

There’s an interview with the Culture Minister, a press conference right after, and an afternoon tea spread in the nearby hotel for all the artists whose work will be exhibited for the opening - all before the ceremony scheduled for 5PM. It’s a big day and an even bigger evening, and he’ll have to preserve his energy and learn to manage, and it’s the first big event without you. He knows it’ll be hard, so do his friends, which is why they're here to show their support and lend their energy when needed.

“You look like the star of the show,” Seokjin praises. “It’s a really good suit.”

“The stars of the show are the artists, actually,” Jungkook corrects. “And the public. It isn’t me.”

“Too bad. It’s a simple suit but you’re styled to still get attention so own it,” Taehyung states. “You look really good, Kook. So chin up, okay? It’s all gonna be fine.”

Jungkook tries to smile, hoping that faking it would eventually make it look real.

“We know it’s tough and you wish you could share it with ___, but just think that she’d want you to enjoy this either way,” Seokjin comforts. “You also owe it to her to give it your best today.”

He knows his friends are right. So many things had to come together for today to happen. Everyone involved did their parts. He heard that there’s so much buzz on social media about the Arts Center and the registration that opened to the public exceeded expectations, and that’s only the beginning. Thinking of all the possibilities excites him, and he’ll hold onto that to get him through the day. Or the week and even beyond that, if needed. 

Jungkook nods and thanks his friends, saying that it means a lot that they’re there for him. It catches them by surprise because he’s not one to easily express gratitude or any level of sentimentality. They suppose it’s what having you around had done for him, and maybe losing you also reminded him of the importance of being vulnerable. 

They head to the hotel that’s one block away from the Arts Center. Jungkook goes through the interview with ease, and with the support of his father, Hoseok, Ji-woo, and Lucas, he manages the press conference, too. He takes some time to collect himself after all that engagement, then he proceeds to the event hall to meet with the artists, curators, and craftspeople and show his appreciation. 

He feels a sense of accomplishment already just knowing that they’re as excited as he is. The inaugural exhibitions feature their work, and the products created to commemorate them are all beautiful. It’s truly come together, he thinks, and he allows himself to feel pride for the first time, knowing that more than the structure, it’s the connections and the art that they’re all celebrating, and it’s what he always hoped to achieve with this project.

It’s not long after when he finds himself in the Arts Center, first doing the customary ribbon cutting with his father and the Culture Minister before entering the lobby where he’ll give the formal welcome and signal the official opening of the center. 

It feels different with so many people present, all awaiting to see how the structure was renovated and what new features they’ll look forward to. There’s a buzz of excitement that Jungkook internalizes, as he sits on a chair by the stage. He watches on as his father and cousins go around to meet the guests, opting to save his energy for his speech. It’s the feel of his mother’s touch that makes him realize he’s shaking, and he turns to her and is met with her warm smile. It’s been a while since he allowed that to comfort him, and at this moment, it’s what he needs. 

“It already looks gorgeous, son,” she assures him. “And you’re going to do amazing up there. People listen when you talk, and they believe in what you say. I’ve seen it. So just trust in yourself, okay? At the end of the day, the structure speaks for itself, and that’s what the people will remember.”

“Thank you, mother,” Jungkook smiles back. “And thank you for staying here with me. And uh, for all the other project launches that you attended.”

“Of course, Jungkook. I’ll always be there to support you,” she says. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Anything that you work on will be something I’m proud of. Never forget that.”

He nods, feeling a little lighter the more he accepts the love and support of those around him. He never really knew what that felt like, and he knows that’s all on him. He’ll try to change that now, and he supposes that expressing and receiving gratitude is one thing that he took from you. He just hopes he gets to have an opportunity to thank you again - he wouldn’t have done any of this without you.

Chin-sun approaches him to say that they’ll begin shortly, and Jungkook looks at the growing crowd one last time, that sliver of hope that he’ll see you keeping him going. There are so many moving parts to this entire project, but he knows he’s not alone. After tonight, he can breathe easy and look back at the year that’s passed and know that he put his all into this, and that it turned out to be exactly how he imagined it to be. 

It’s not long after when the program begins. CEO Jeon gives his opening remarks, followed by the Culture Minister, before Jungkook takes the stage. It’s a much longer speech he gives this time, as he wants to make sure that he gets to thoughtfully express his hope and purpose for the Arts Center. He talks briefly about its conception and then delves into the ideas of connection and intimacy, how he wants art to be experienced by people as both spectators and creators, and that he wants this to be a hub for people to create meaning, all while celebrating Korean culture in an environment that reflects the merging of tradition and modernism. 

He keeps his eye contact with the audience, and he sees their warm reception to his words. A video plays to introduce the artists and craftspeople who are featured, and then he ends with thanking everyone who was involved in the process - from the laborers, suppliers, and contractors, to the Board, the investors, and the executive team. He gives a special message to his project team and management support team, asking them to join him on stage because they deserve all the praise for how the Center turned out. 

There’s a resounding applause, and once that’s settled, he finally asks for all the doors to be opened. 

“There are so many things to explore here,” he says. “Please savor every space you enter and take your time. The meaning of art is something only you could define but the beauty is in the experience, and the experience is even more fulfilling when it is shared. Thank you very much and have a good evening.”

He watches the crowd disperse and he releases a breath. The night is far from over and the toughest part for him is just about to start, and that’s going around to see how everything is being received. His mother greets him after, congratulating him again. Hoseok and Ji-woo tell him how proud they are, and his father gives him that assuring nod, with words expressing pride and encouragement accompanying it. 

Jungkook quickly meets the team and gives instructions on how to divide and conquer before he heads to one of the performance halls. He sees Yoongi hanging around and there’s a warm smile on his friend’s face, a rarity because it’s not usually directed at him.

“You’re getting the hang of these speeches,” Yoongi hums. “___ would be proud.”

“Only if she’d heard it,” Jungkook sighs. “I looked around but I didn’t see her. Do you… do you know if she’s here?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook nods, knowing he’ll slowly have to accept that maybe you’re not ready yet, or that asking you to find him here at a time when there are so many people might have been too much. There’s hope that you’ll give him a call or maybe meet him at another time. He understands what you must’ve felt while you waited for him, and he hates himself for making you go through that. It’s excruciating being on the receiving end of it, and it’s only been a few hours. 

“Let me know if you see her,” Jungkook instructs. “I’ll just be…”

“Around,” Yoongi chuckles. “I will. But your job continues, so go out there and find out what people are saying. I’ll be on the lookout for her.”

Jungkook thanks him and continues visiting the different halls, engaging with the artists and Board members and some other visitors along the way. He searches for your face in every space he enters, exiting them in disappointment when he doesn’t find you there. His heart slowly breaks, and he hangs on for a little longer until he starts to feel too much, with the tiredness from being on the go the entire day getting to him. 

It’s a hard call but he decides to leave. Hoseok assures him that it’s okay; he’s talked to every important person already and that’s enough. People will explore for as long as the Center is open, and he’s got the project and support teams to hold the fort for him. There’s not much else he needs to do anyway; their subsidiary company tasked to manage the operations has already taken over, and Jungkook’s main tasks have been fulfilled. It eases him, knowing that he’s not abandoning anyone by deciding to step out. 

As the hours go by with no sight of you, the heavier he feels. He needs time alone, not just because his battery’s gone out but also to just wallow in the sadness. It’s pitiful but it seems better than constantly hoping he’d see you here while being surrounded by so many people.

He goes to one final area before heading out. It’s the most special one, the one he dedicates to you, the one he hopes you’d one day see and know that he thought of you everyday, even during the days when it didn’t seem like it. He wonders if you’ll like it, if it would remind you of what you grew up with, and if it would be a place for you to feel safe and free and happy in, all the things he’d wished you’d feel with him.

One last look and there’s still no sign of you. He calls Mr. Ri and asks to be dropped off at the office. It seems like a better place to be in when he’s sad and upset. 

The building is empty on a Friday night. Everyone’s either at the Arts Center or gone home and he’s ironically the one craving for the loneliness of this place. He’s committed himself to his job for a decade and doesn’t know much of who he is outside of it. He learned a bit of that in the midst of the biggest change he’s experienced and the most challenging year he’s had, and it was through you. 

He learned that he’s actually quite caring, that there’s a protective side to him, that he steps up and shows up when he’s needed, and that he finds joy and peace in the outdoors. He’s passionate and a perfectionist but he wants to be a bit spontaneous, too. He makes mistakes and can apologize for them. He’s capable of kindness and in some instances, enjoys the company of other people with whom he can observe and laugh with. Being alone often made him feel lonely, and he realized that he’s someone who craves companionship, who wants intimacy, and that he’s someone willing to be vulnerable and share himself with the right person. And while he tends to be impatient most times, with you, he’s willing to wait. And for you, he’ll try to be better.

He enters his office and lets the silence envelope him. The city looks alive from his window but there’s dullness from within. He’ll get over it, he thinks, but until then, that sadness will remain for as long as you’re not in his life, for as long as you’re not next to him.

You look at yourself in the mirror, the elegance of your rose-colored midi dress a contrast to the stress painted all over your face. You give yourself only a few seconds to admire how you look - there’s a bit of that sexiness from the v-neckline and front slit, and the flutter sleeves and other vintage details lend to a classic look. Your hair isn’t as fixed as you want and your makeup is too pale for your liking, but with time no longer on your side, those are the least of your problems. 

You couldn’t sleep last night despite your mother insisting that you get some rest. The image of Jungkook leaving your house plagued your mind. You should’ve ran after him and told him that you were sorry, that it doesn’t matter anymore if you waited, for as long as he found you. You should’ve stopped him to say that you wanted to be with him, that you were done with running away from what you really wanted, and that you’re willing to always be brave for as long as he held your hand and eased your worries. You should’ve gone back to Seoul with him, but you’d been too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to chase after what you’ve been yearning for. 

Deciding to come to the Arts Center opening wasn’t always certain. You knew you were going to visit one day. You worked hard on it, too, and you wanted to show your support even if Jungkook would never know. But when he asked you to find him there, you knew you had to go right away. You imagined him making that speech that you helped him draft months ago, donned in the gray outfit that Taehyung was proud to make for him. You envisioned the smile he’d have on as he looked around to see all his plans come to life and the visitors taking it all in. 

You just didn’t expect to sleep through your alarm and then miss the train by a minute. The travel wasn’t bad. The chocopies that Jungkook got you kept you satisfied the entire trip, but it was halfway back to Seoul when you realized that you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. The ones you have are either too formal, too casual, or meant for a night out. 

Taehyung had designed a dress for you but you said it was no longer necessary after you resigned; it was fortunate that he hadn’t started making it yet, and so the guilt wasn’t too much. You didn’t want to go to the opening in just anything. While it mattered to get there, you didn’t want to get any attention, and so dressing appropriately was your plan. Everything else in your closet would make you look underdressed, and you made the quick decision to pass by a store and grab the first nice dress you could find and then head home. 

The clock was ticking, and it didn’t help that you got stuck in traffic on the way to your apartment, and that a vehicular accident at the intersection outside your village forced the cab driver to take a longer route to the Arts Center. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the program was over, and Jungkook would probably now be in the midst of engaging with so many important people and you don’t want any of the attention that your arrival might bring. 

You finally make it though, and while minutes ago you were stressed and just desperate to make it to the Arts Center, now that you’re here, you’re quite nervous. You’ll face him again after so long, and the fact that happiness would be within reach brings about an unfamiliar feeling. But you also can’t wait to experience it. It’s a kind of joy and contentment you’ve only dreamt about, and you’ll finally know what it’s like.

Exiting the cab, you look around in awe. From this view, you could imagine the sunset framing the main building so beautifully. You enter the lobby and it’s even more spacious than you remember. Perhaps it’s the absence of all the laborers and materials on the floor. Now, it’s just this open space with art pieces placed around. The floor-to-ceiling windows would bring so much light in. It was one of the big changes to the old structure, and with the moonlight shining through, it feels as if there’s a natural spotlight on the art pieces. 

You’re enamored by the grandness of it all. Even more by the many people around, perhaps taking their time in exploring all that the Center has to offer. It’s such a massive space that it’s impossible to absorb everything after one go around, and you already can’t wait to take it all in the next time you visit.

It’s tempting to get lost in it but right now, your priority is finding Jungkook, but as you’re about to head to the second floor, Do-hyun’s whisper-yelling of your name catches your attention. She gives you a tight hug and there’s suddenly an air of sentimentality as the old team is together once again. It was just a year ago when you all took on the biggest project together and after all the highs and lows, it’s finally here. And while you missed out on the final weeks of preparations, they assure you that you’re just as much a part of those as they are. 

“You had to deal with the last minute changes, though,” you insist. “That must’ve been hard.”

“Only at the beginning,” Chin-sun says. “We were barely involved. We just helped with procurement but Mr. Jeon was the one who worked tirelessly on it. He had just two other people help him construct it and I guess that’s why he spent so much time there. But it turned out beautifully, and you wouldn’t have known it was only an addition.”

“Wha-what is it?” You ask, the curiousity taking a front seat for now. 

“It’s—”

“It’s something you need to see for yourself,” a familiar voice says. 

You all turn around and bow at the sight of CEO Jeon. He looks at you and smiles, gesturing towards one of the doors. You excuse yourself from the team and follow the older man, walking next to him in silence. 

“I was worried you weren’t going to come tonight,” he says. “I think that so was Jungkook.”

“I… I tried to come earlier but there was all this traffic and… I, uh, how did he do?” You ask. 

“Great, as always,” CEO Jeon answers. “He had everything under control and managed all the socializing impressively. He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”

“He has,” you smile, recalling the anxiousness that he used to feel at just remembering names and keeping up with people’s energy. 

“He’s come a long way in other aspects, too. Smiling, believing in himself, being kinder to himself… it’s great to witness,” the older man continues. “And standing by and caring for someone the way he did with you, that was… that was new, too.”

“I didn’t intend on feeling this way for him, sir,” you say, recalling that the last time you spoke, you weren’t ready to talk about it. “And I tried to suppress it, and that pushed him away but I guess, sometimes we lose people for a reason; we find them again for a reason, too.” It’s a statement that CEO Jeon had told you the last time you talked, and it’s one that stuck with you. “I’m here to find him again.”

“Good. I was hoping you would, so at least I’d know that all this wasn’t in vain,” he chuckles. “And I really do hope you see his heart with this, ___. He takes after me, and I didn’t realize just how much until he came up with this plan.”

You lose him for a bit, suddenly unsure of what he means. CEO Jeon notices, so he gestures towards his right and you follow his lead, and that’s when you see it. Your eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but gasp at the space before you.

“He’s not always good with words but he tries. And this is how he does it.”

You noted entering the grand library as he spoke. The walls and design were familiar, as you’d gone in here during your last few visits. But this area that you walk into is new. It’s not a large space but it feels like it now. It used to be a section of historical books and archived materials that were put on display, almost like a museum of literary artifacts that a historian had sold off. But it’s nothing like that now.

The glass enclosures have been replaced by shelves and bookcases, all easily accessible and reachable by anyone. The framed walls are no more - instead, there are reading nooks and character murals painted artistically, bringing them to life outside of the books they only lived in. The lights are not blinding; they’re warm and inviting, illuminating a space that makes you want to just sit or even lie in, especially with the large stuffed animals spread across. The chairs aren’t the same, too; there are couches all around, all soft and comfortable, decorated with knitted dolls and colorful pillows. 

You walk further, mouth agape as you take in every inch of the space that brings back so many memories from your childhood. This place is new but familiar. It looks nothing but everything like that neighborhood-run library that your mom used to take you to. Towards the back is a little activity area, with a large, leveled table and a row of shelves filled with coloring books and paper dolls. 

You feel chills as you realize what this place is supposed to be, and who this was meant for. 

You remember the first time you told Jungkook about this. It was after that incident at the restaurant. He took you to a park and told you how the playground was his favorite place, how it made him feel free and safe, how it allowed him to just be himself and imagine doing and being everything he wanted. You shared a piece of your childhood, too, and described that library you frequented, how you felt sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye to it, and that you hadn’t seen a place like that again.

But now you have. That last minute change that he made… It was this. 

You turn towards CEO Jeon and try to find the words to say but nothing comes out. You’re overwhelmed by what you see, by the memories they elicit, and by all the emotions overtaking you all at once. 

“Jungkook called me one evening and said that he was going to re-do the archive section in the library,” the older man says. “He wasn’t asking for my approval because it was his project, he’d said, but he just wanted to let me know. He made all the decisions and most of the design. He painted the walls and some of the furniture, too. He spent every afternoon here and stayed until the evening. He barely rested. He just… he just wanted this done. It was so important to him.”

“I… I told him about a place like this, that I used to go to,” you manage to find your voice now. “He never saw it but it… it looks like this.”

“Maybe you described it really well,” CEO Jeon smiles. “It’s how he’s always been. Just a few words and then it comes alive in his mind.”

“That’s why this Center is as beautiful as it is,” you hum. “He’s good at that, bringing to life everything that he envisions.”

“It’s his way of saying the things he can’t say, too. It’s something he got from me, I think. I’m not good with words either,” he admits. “So when Byung-hun told me that your mother used to spend her lunch breaks taking you to a library when you were younger, I knew this was Jungkook expressing everything he feels for you.”

“It’s a bit grand, don’t you think?” You say shyly. “Building something for someone is… so personal, so—”

“Sincere,” he finishes for you. “And intimate, I’d say. But my son, he feels a lot. Which is why I think he tries not to, and why he distances himself from others. He felt like he’d lost you, ___, even before he had you and that… messed with him. He needed to do this for you, but I think he also needed to do it for himself. If at the end of the day, you’ll no longer be a part of his life, this would remind him that you were.”

You blink away the tears that you quickly wipe off as you look away. If at the end of the day, he’s no longer a part of your life, this would also remind you that he was. But you don’t want that, because you want him in your life, you want every part of him that he’s willing to show, and you want to hold every bit of that in your arms, care for it, and never let it go.

The time you spent with so little of him in your life made you feel his absence, and that allowed you to recognize the pockets of joy you had with him. It gave you something to look forward to, to connect with, and to treasure. The first step was resigning, and that itself felt like freedom. You get to pursue that connection and deep desire by choosing him this time. Knowing yourself means knowing how your heart heals and loves, and you want him to be at the receiving end of that. 

“I… I need to see him,” you say, not wanting him to spend another minute without knowing how you feel. 

“You should,” CEO Jeon nods and motions towards the door. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”

There’s a soft smile on his face and you mirror it, as if to tell each other that all has been forgiven, that everything has been accepted, that there’s no more blame or burden to carry anymore. 

You rush out, wondering where to start looking for Jungkook. Turning to the left, you see Yoongi, who quickly rushes to you.

“What do you think?” He asks, gesturing towards the library where you’d just come from. “Is it close to the one you used to go to?”

“Yes,” you respond. “Did you help him with it?”

“Kinda had no choice,” he chuckles. “We were working on it while everything else was being completed. He didn’t want anyone else to know, especially you. I didn’t even know why he wanted to build a children's library all of a sudden when it wasn’t in the plans until that night you told me about your childhood. It clicked then.”

“He was already dealing with so much but he still had time for this?” You say, still in shock that Jungkook pushed through with this despite everything.

“He had a lot to say to you but he didn’t know how to. And I guess working on this was a way for him to deal with losing you,” Yoongi answers. “You mean a lot to him, ___. He was a mess without you.”

You think back at the times you felt that he was quickly replacing you, that he was distancing himself, that he was probably upset because you’d messed up his plans, and that he just wanted to move on from you. All this time, he was working on something that he could leave you with, all because he knew how much it meant for you to have a place like this.

“Now I just have to find him,” you say. “Have you seen him?”

“Not in the past half hour. He’s just been going around but I did tell him I’d let him know if you came. You should call him.”

“I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I did,” you sigh, knowing that it’s probably the same reason why he didn’t call you after not finding you in your apartment yesterday. 

There’s too much to say that can’t be said over the phone. You’ll probably be tongue tied once he picks up. 

You decide to call Mr. Ri, the possibility of Jungkook having left swimming in your mind after thinking of how long he would’ve been socializing. It’s been hours since the opening; it’s possible that he’s gotten tired from it all.

“___? Everything okay?”

“Do you know where he is?” You ask, desperate now. “Is he still in—”

“I just dropped him off at the office,” the older man answers. “I don’t know why he wanted to be there but I’m on the way back to the Arts Center. Do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”

“I’m here right now and I just saw what he made. I need to see him.”

“You can wait for me and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll find my way there. Thank you.”

You drop the call and start heading towards the exit, with Yoongi on your tails, offering to drive you.

“You’ve done so much already. And you’re needed here,” you say. “It’s okay.”

“True, I have. It sucked witnessing you two constantly going in circles when you both clearly can’t get enough of each other,” he chuckles. “So go, find him. You can both stop being such idiots now.”

“Rude,” you laugh. “But thank you, Yoongi.”

He smiles, and it’s a sight that’s gotten you through some of the toughest days. He tells you again to leave now, and you rush out as you book a cab, slowly getting impatient as you want nothing more than to be with Jungkook already. 

You get inside the car and watch the city pass you by. So many nights you’d done this, wondering about your life and where it was headed, hoping that one day you’d find the strength within you to go for what you’ve always wanted, whatever it was. A smile paints your face as you do it again now. One day is today, and with another act of bravery, you’re heading towards that other piece of happiness, and you’re finally claiming it for yourself. 

The office isn’t far, and with the traffic having eased despite the hour, you make it to the building in no time. 

You’re suddenly nervous once you enter the lobby. You’re used to late nights but it’s different this time. The security personnel assigned tonight still remembers you, and he doesn’t ask questions when you say you want to head to the VP’s floor. 

It’s a little nostalgic walking down the hallway, even if you were here just last week. It’s knowing that you’ll be seeing Jungkook at the end of it that makes you emotional, your heart beating fast as the seconds tick by. You quietly make it to his room, and with the door opened, you wonder if he expected you to be here.

You stand at the entrance and see him standing by the window, looking out into the city below. His sleeves are rolled up, and he has one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. You spot the bottle on the edge of the table and not far from it, the mess of folders and blueprints piled on the desk. 

“Why are you out here celebrating on your own?” You say, your voice soft despite the yearning you’re feeling. 

He hears you though, as the swirling of his drink stops and he slowly turns around to look at you. He looks tired, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up. You wish he notices the way yours do, too.

“The Arts Center is beautiful, Jungkook. You should be enjoying it with everyone else.”

“It didn’t feel right without you,” he answers, walking towards his table where he places the glass next to the bottle. “It felt incomplete without you around. You… you were a big part of that.”

“Why did you leave, then? That’s where you said I’d find you.”

“Is that what your mother said?” 

“It’s what I heard,” you say. He doesn’t look surprised, and maybe a part of you knew that he knew you were there, but still, he asks.

“Why didn’t you see me? Why didn’t you want to talk to me?”

You start to walk closer and see the sadness in his eyes. It brings you back to this room weeks ago, how those same eyes looked at you in dejection, in guilt. You hate hurting him, and you don’t ever want to do that again. 

“I realized that I easily accept it when I’m told that I’m being selfish and that I don’t deserve happiness. But when it comes to someone’s genuine feelings, I cower,” you respond. “Your sincerity scared me and maybe that’s why I doubted it the first time and I’m sorry that I did.” 

Your voice starts to shake now as the emotions intensify with every word you say, and with every inch of distance you eliminate. 

“I’m sorry that I pushed you away, that I left, that I kept my past from you. I’m sorry that I was so scared about everything, especially about the way I felt, only because it was all so new. It was all so much; wanting you became too much, I didn’t know how to stop. But I…” you blink away the tears, not realizing they’ve been waiting to fall. “I realized I was more scared to lose you. I was foolish to think that I could just move on and forget about what I feel for you. I thought it’s what you wanted to do, too, and—”

He shakes his head, and it’s the most reaction you’ve gotten since you started speaking.

“All I’ve done since that night you left me here was think about you,” he says, now able to say what he’s been meaning to. “I didn’t know how to stop that either. Wanting you was no longer enough and I wanted to be with you but I didn’t think I could, not when I thought you didn’t want me. You left and I… I didn’t know what to do.”

“I knew it’s what I needed,” you admit. “I… I reached a point where if you asked me to stay, I probably would and I didn’t want to. I wanted to know myself outside of all this and I didn’t want you to be the reason why I’d stop myself from doing that, from searching for whatever would make me happy but I realized that it’s you.”

You take another step, your body aching for him as your heart beats faster. “I felt free but it didn’t feel like I thought it would be. I didn’t want to be here but I wanted to be with you. And I’m sorry it took so long.”

“I didn’t find you right away,” he whispers, as if he still carries that guilt with him. “I was so caught up with everything else, with dealing with the fact that I lost you.”

“The library,” you say. “You were caught up creating something for me.”

“I… uh, I didn’t know how to say everything that I wanted to say,” he sighs. “And I’ll probably always struggle with that but… I just thought that as you go about your new life, I could build you a place where you’ll always feel safe and free, and that if I can’t be that person to comfort you, you’ll have a place that can do that. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to forget me. But I also just wanted you to know that I was always going to think about you.”

“Doesn’t it feel a bit grand?” You ask now, inching closer once again as he takes another step forward. “Building a library for someone is a pretty big deal.”

“You would’ve been my biggest what if. I probably deserve something grand to remind me of how stupid I was that I let you go.”

“You’re not gonna do that again, are you?” You teasingly smile. “Because I won’t.”

“No,” he says a little seriously. “I put you through so much, ___. I just… I just want to be someone who would care for you and would make you happy.”

His words are simple but they carry so much. You suppose at one point, that’s all what’s started to matter. All he wants is to be part of that happiness you’ve been searching for. Maybe it’s what’s been missing in his life, too, and all you want now is to be a part of it.

Another tear falls down your cheek, and you appease the worried look on his face by saying that it’s a happy tear.

He softly smiles, wiping it off with his thumb before cupping your face in his hand. He’s gentle as he caresses you, and you learn everyday just how capable he is of giving warmth, that there’s such tenderness within him that he’s unable to fully show. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admits. “So many times that I’ve seen you cry and I’ve just been… so powerless to do anything.”

“Now you aren’t,” you breathe out as you eye his lips, knowing they’re what you need at this moment. “Now you can—”

His proximity stops you, as he bends down and closes the distance. His mouth presses against yours, the hint of alcohol intoxicating you a little but it’s the feel of him that makes your mind hazy. With his hand still cupping your cheek, he pulls you towards him, his tongue merely licking your own when he slides inside as if to tease. 

“Do that,” he finishes, pulling away only a little bit to allow you to answer.  

“Yes,” you heave, wanting so much more now that you’ve had a taste of him again. “I won’t stop you this time.”

“Good,” he pants, grazing the tip of his nose on yours. “I don’t plan to.”

You’re unable to take a breath before his mouth crashes against yours, but you don’t mind, not when you immediately lose yourself to the way he feels. The kiss is desperate, with his tongue seeking entrance right away and then entangling with yours. Yet it still feels gentle with how he holds you, as his one hand continues to caress your face while the other glides down your side torso, settling on your hip to pull you closer. 

Your fingers grip his dress shirt, needing that anchor to ground you as you feel yourself drifting, getting lost in what you’re feeling - pure desire, an insatiable need, a sense of relief that there’s finally nothing holding you back. He angles your head, allowing him to go even deeper, and you let him take control, you let him breathe you in, let his tongue explore your depths before he pulls back and nibbles your lower lip. 

But he doesn’t stop just like he said, as he makes his way to your neck. You moan once you feel him lick the shell of your ear, the sound urging him to do more. He finds spots that have you grunting in pleasure, sucking and licking and pressing soft kisses on them, leaving you a pleading mess. You chant his name, grind against him for that friction you badly need, and pull on his shirt, as if wanting that barrier gone. 

“Fuck,” he groans, meeting your hips. “Fuck, you sound good.”

Jungkook feels the shiver of your skin, as his mouth slides up and down your neck while he grabs your  waist. He loses himself in the sounds of your moans - constant and yearning - just as heavenly as he remembers. You’re pliant, moving your head to give him access, letting him explore whatever’s exposed for him to do as he pleases, to taste whatever you can offer right now. 

He pulls you for a kiss once again, and there seems to be more desperation now, as you try to dominate, to taste him, to keep him there. Your hand finds his, guiding it to map your body, to let him know where you want him, to tell him where he can go. He curses under his breath when he feels your breast, fondling it for the brief moment it’s there before you direct it further down. You know exactly what you want and he’ll give it to you. 

The front slit of your dress makes it easy, and when his finger grazes your clothed cunt, you let out a sound that rings in his ear, and he wants more of it. 

“You like that?” He huffs in your ear. “You want me to touch you like that?”

“Ye—yes,” you mumble, unable to say anything more.

Jungkook hears your desire. He feels it, too, but he teases a little, gliding down the wet patch before slowly pressing on your clit. You jerk a little, briefly pulling away from him so you can take in a long breath. You bite your lip and he knows that you’re holding yourself back.

But he wants more and he can tell that so do you. He doesn’t care where you are right now; all he wants is to taste you, to feel you pulsate against his tongue, to make you feel good and let you know what he can give.

He looks down where his fingers have slipped past your underwear then back at you, the lick of his lips his way of seeking permission. You seem to know what he means, and you nod, granting it to him. He pulls you again for a kiss, much rougher this time, before he pushes you against the desk and lifts you so you could sit on the edge, just like that first time. But like you said, you won’t stop him anymore. And he truly doesn’t have an intention to.

His mouth moves down actively, kissing every clothed and exposed part of you it passes while slowly lifting up your dress. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs open, aching to taste even more of you. But he glances up and sees the anticipation on your face, his mind hypnotized even with just this view alone.

Holding your gaze, he teases, with his tongue merely grazing your throbbing cunt.

You tense up but it’s what gets you pleading.

“Please,” you whimper, the sight of him from below leaving you in a daze. “Jung—want—plea—I—”

You’re unable to form proper words so he finally gives in, pulling your underwear to the side. He grunts, as the sight of your wet lips has his dick getting even harder. Your desire matches his, and all he wants is to fulfill your need.

With the barrier gone, he presses his tongue flatly over your clit, warming it up first before he starts moving around. He alternates fervent licks on it with slow movements everywhere else - on your lips, on the sides of your thighs, and inside your hole. It’s messy and absolutely mind numbing, as your scent and and the way you taste divine have him burying himself even deeper into you, losing himself even more when he feels your hand in his hair, pushing him towards you as if you don’t want him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t mind. He’d live here if he could.

You start to give in, your legs slowly closing on him but he pushes them apart, keeping them open so he could do more. With his movements, he pulls you closer to the edge - of the table, of your orgasm - and he buries his face there again, licking and sucking and moaning like a man starved. 

The sounds you make drive him crazy, and that's with you still holding back. You’re still in his office, doing something you both definitely shouldn’t, and he supposes you don’t want your obscene sounds to echo throughout the floor despite it being empty. He can’t wait to hear you without anything stopping you. 

You start to shake and that’s how he knows you’re close. He feels your uneven breathing, hears your broken chants of his name, and sees your grip on the table getting tighter. He wants to take you there, and with one final nip of your clit, you crash, the low, long-winded sound satisfying his need to pleasure you.

You try to catch your breath while he laps up your juices. You’re still sensitive, as your legs jerk with every movement of his. He takes a peak and sees your half-lidded eyes and parted mouth, but you eventually return to your senses and meet his gaze. You’ve had enough, it seems, as you pull him up and meet his lips. 

Jungkook tastes of you, and you kiss him languidly, still out of breath and definitely in a daze. You want more of him, though; you want to bury yourself in him and elicit hypnotizing sounds that’ll have him chant your name, too, so you start to palm his hard length in return. But he goes soft on you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist before he cups your cheeks again while he returns your kisses.

“This feels quite familiar,” you hum against his lips.

“Really? I don’t remember you pushing my head between your thighs the last time,” he teases.

“Oh, shush,” you frown, quickly realizing exactly what you’d done. “I can’t believe I had you eat me out on your desk. In your office. On a work night, too. And while you have an event going on. Your father will be so angry.”

“Good thing he won’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, clearly unbothered. 

But you aren’t, so you pout at him. “What was I thinking?”

“Maybe you missed me too much, and I can’t blame you, since you know, I did, too,” he reasons, his shy smile turning cheeky in a second. “Or maybe you wanted to leave me with a gift or something,” he smirks. 

“True. When you’re stressed at work you can just remember what you did to me here and then you’ll feel better, I guess.”

“Actually, that’ll probably frustrate me,” he chuckles, pulling you closer again and wrapping his arms around you. “Thinking about how good you sound and how amazing you taste without you around… Yeah, I’d be angry.”

His praise flusters you, and you briefly turn away. But he assures you again that his father won’t know, and that you’re in the clear despite the indecency you both committed. 

“And it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “That is worth whatever trouble I’ll be in, if it happens. I… I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted you right away.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks again, and you giggle and bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting, the way he giggles back but hugs you tighter. He smells just as you remember, and you think that this is how you want your days to go from now on - flushed against his chest, cradled in his arms, with his soft lips giving you shivers as he kisses your forehead. 

It’s just your joint breaths that you hear now, and you turn to him, your soft smile making his heart skip a beat, and he knows that this is how he wants his days to go from now on - safe in your embrace, with your soft lips tracing his jaw and leaving teasing pecks on his cheeks. He captures them in his, basking in the taste of you, and it’s not long after when the kiss intensifies, leaving him wanting more again.

But just as you return his desire, it’s at that moment when the phone rings, catching both of you off guard and in surprise. He appeases you, as your eyes look at him in worry. He picks up the call, and he hums in confirmation before putting the phone down.

“The building is scheduled for sanitation in half an hour,” he says. “We have to go.”

“Oh right. I remember putting that in our calendars,” you hum, getting off the table and feeling the dampness of your underwear.

You fix your dress, trying to make it less uncomfortable. You turn to him who looks at you shyly.

“Can I take you home with me?” He asks. “Maybe we could, uh, continue this and you know, make up for the time we spent apart?”

“Yes,” you respond, feeling your heart race at the possibilities of tonight. “I’d like that.”

He nods, unable to control his own smile. He motions towards the door and you walk out side-by-side, knowing enough that there are security cameras around. There’s at least that unspoken agreement that neither of you want the attention that could come from having this exposed, whatever this is. But you suppose you have time to figure it out. You’ve both expressed enough that you want each other; you’ll just have to talk about how to move forward and make up for all that’s happened. 

It’s cheeky glances from the elevator down to the car. But once he drives out of the building, he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He smiles when you tighten your hold, as if to say that you don’t want to let go of him, too. 

You explain that you woke up late and had to buy a dress that’s why you didn’t get to him earlier. You share how you met the team and then his father, and the anticipation you felt on the way to the office to see him. 

Jungkook narrates how his day went, saying that the interview and press conference were successful, and that he received so much praise from the artists for how the Arts Center turned out. You compliment him, too, saying how everything looks grand but that each individual space feels intimate, personal, and that you can’t wait to explore it further. 

The conversation is a good distraction, as the moment from earlier still has you reeling internally. His taste is addictive, and there’s just so much more of him you want to see, to feel, to immerse yourself in. He seems a bit impatient, too. He’s driving close to the speed limit, perhaps wanting to get to his place as soon as he can to continue what you both started. With everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t mind doing it all night. 

You finally make it to his building, and he constantly pulls you close as you make your way up, with his hand snaking around your waist while you smile at him. But when he opens his door and you enter his penthouse, he keeps his distance, letting you walk through his hallway and into his kitchen as he looks on.

He walks slowly towards you and his heart starts to beat faster, knowing he’s got you alone now, and that there’s no limit to what both of you could do. But though he wants to just take you in his arms, feel you against him again, and kiss you until you both run out of air, he decides to savor this first - the sight of you back in his apartment. 

It’s been so long. And with you looking as beautiful as you do in your pink dress, he wants to ingrain this image of you in his mind - happy and content, with a tender smile that’s already healing the parts of him that once hurt. 

“Your place looks the same as the last time I was here,” you say, looking around.

“Well, I haven’t really been spending time here,” he shrugs. “I was too busy being an idiot and making this children’s library for this girl that I’m really, really into to make up for it. And well, she’s here with me now. I feel like this place is going to start feeling like home.”

“Plants would help. And maybe some personal photos,” you tease, but you reach out your hand that he takes and you pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and grazing your nose against his. “But I’m also here. And I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I just happen to really, really be into you, too.”

He laughs, and it’s a sound you once said you want to hear all the time. You think from now on, you will. 

“Good. I’d like to keep you for as long as I can.”

His eyes turn serious and it makes you feel hot all over. It’s hard not to use his playboy lifestyle as a basis for how he’d be, and you can’t help but think just how good he’s going to make you feel. There’s always been so much tension with him that in hindsight, you’ve always tried to quell or overlook, but there’s no need for that anymore. You’ll let your desire take over, release all that lust and yearning until he knows just how much you want him in ways words could never express. 

But just as he closes the distance between you, the doorbell rings, and his groan of frustration makes you laugh. It’s as if the universe is edging both of you with these distractions. 

Jungkook looks at you in apology and agony. “That might be Mr. Ri. Or Lucas,” he says, remembering that they’d said that they’ll drop off some of the gifts he received in celebration of today. If he doesn’t answer, they’ll probably enter on their own, since he’s given them permission to.

So he lets you go and heads towards the door while you scurry to the left towards the hallway. 

You doubt whoever it is would come all the way inside so you don’t really attempt to hide, but you do lean by the wall and listen in. You’re appeased to know it’s Mr. Ri, as you see him enter with several gifts and packages. 

“These are from the artists and the Board. There are art pieces in the cart outside so just bring them in,” he instructs, oblivious to you standing not far away. “They gave you lots of alcohol, too. I thought to bring them here already for whatever reason you might need them.” 

The older man chuckles and finally looks up and sees you.

“And I assume that reason is to celebrate,” he smiles now, and you don’t miss the smug look on his face that makes you feel flustered. “I was just gonna say that ___ was looking for you,” he turns to Jungkook. “Looks like she’s found you.”

“She… she did,” Jungkook smiles back. 

“Good. It’s about time you kids made up,” he teasingly rolls his eyes. Heavens know how much he had to deal with, with you and Jungkook being such hard-headed idiots.

“We were in the middle of it but then we got disrupted,” Jungkook frowns, to the amusement of the older man.

“Oh, I wonder who did that,” Mr. Ri teases. “I better get going then.”

He sets aside the boxes and turns to both of you. 

“But before I leave, I just… I just want to congratulate you, Jungkook. The Arts Center is a beautiful piece of artwork. And that… that last-minute thing you did… I’m telling you now that it drove your father crazy. But he… he told me how proud he is of you,” he continues, his look softening as he recalls their recent conversations, including the one just before he drove here. “To do all that for someone you care about, that takes a lot of heart. I think that you, finding it and using it is what he’s happiest about.”

His words are followed by Jungkook’s nod, perhaps in appreciation, and silence, as you’re unsure what else could be said after that. Mr. Ri excuses himself after bringing in the last set of gifts and there’s still that soft smile on his face before he leaves. 

It’s happening, he thinks, and despite all the time it took for you and Jungkook to get here, he supposes it was the only way. It would’ve been easier if he or even Yoongi or Hoseok went ahead and spoke to both of you, perhaps to say it was all a misunderstanding or that there was nothing to be afraid of, not when you both undeniably felt the same way. 

But he also knew that you both had to come to that realization on your own, that life without each other isn’t something neither of you wanted. You also had to make that decision for yourselves - to be vulnerable, to be brave, to take risks, and to find out that it would all be worth it if you’re just honest about how you feel. It seems you’ve both figured it out now, and he can finally feel at ease that two of the most important people in his life can now take care of each other, and that the love he gave helped both of you to get here.

Jungkook leads him out the door then returns to you, and as he walks to where you are, you’re finally able to appreciate how he looks. It’s just like the other times when he had an event to go to - hair slicked back, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dress shirt accentuating his toned chest, and the fit of his trousers showing off the rest of his figure. You eye him up and down and he smirks at you in response.

“So… you exposed yourself, Mr. Jeon,” you say, pulling the neck of his tie to bring him closer to you. “Who taught you how to use your heart like that?”

“Who knew I even had one in the first place?” 

“I did.”

“Not at the start though,” he says, with a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“It was there, you were just hiding it. But I saw it. And I got used to it. Then I couldn’t get enough of it, of you,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And now I just… I want more of it, Jungkook. I want all of you.”

Having you be so bold about what you want does something to him. It already got him weak in the knees when you directed his hand where you wanted it earlier and when you looked at him to grant permission about having a taste of you. Hearing you say you want all of him causes his mind to short circuit, but he recovers quickly, as he nods and releases a breath before cupping your face in his hands then crashing his mouth into yours again. 

It’s sloppier this time, as you both try to take in as much of each other as you can. Your tongues battle for dominance, you nibble and lick each other’s lips, and you moan with every breath as he’s got you caged against the wall, your hands gripping on his shirt to pull him even closer.

You feel Jungkook’s length hardening as he’s flushed against you, and you grind against him, needing that friction badly. He meets your hips and releases your face from his hold, supporting your back that now arches as you chase him, as he finds purchase on your neck, licking and sucking to elicit the most obscene sounds from you. He kneads your ass while you moan his name and plead for more, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure with just this, and you can’t wait for what comes after.

“Please,” you beg, as you feel your cunt throb in pain.  

Jungkook doesn’t need you to say anything else, as he has the same desire to feel your body. There’s so much he wants to do to you, so much more he wants to touch and feel. He wants to know how else you sound like, what makes you lose your breath, what makes you quiver and shake. He wants to know how else his mouth could make you come and how his fingers can drive you wild. He wants to know how your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, how much of him you can take, and how it’s like to be buried deep inside your warm walls as your essence coats him. 

He wants you right now, so he heads towards the closest room, guiding you backwards as he unzips your dress and removes your bra. His hands immediately map your bare body, feeling the shiver in your skin with every movement. You whimper when he fondles your breast, and the thought of you being sensitive to his touch makes him even harder.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he guides you to lie down. He trails downward, nibbling as he goes and memorizing your body this way. His mouth reaches your waist, and from here, he finds himself intoxicated from your scent. He slowly removes your soaked underwear and the sight of your went cunt makes him throb in pain.

You’re so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He can’t believe he waited so long to have you like this.

He thumbs your clit, and your continuous moans and calls of his name make him give in. He stands up and smirks at you and, taking your hand, he replaces his fingers with yours, his eyes ordering you to touch yourself.

You follow, and though it doesn’t feel as good as how he does it, the pleasure hits differently when you watch him loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. All those months of doing your morning routine comes back to you - now you get to see all that’s underneath the clothes you prepare, and when he pulls down his trousers, your mouth drops the same time it does. He’s thick and veiny, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 

His eyes are on your sopping cunt while yours are on his fingers as they stroke his length, getting himself ready for you. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, and while there’s the tiniest bit of disappointment, you don’t mind. It’s something you’ll eventually talk about. Right now, you just want him inside of you and you call out for him another time, prompting him to smirk once again and walk towards you.

He replaces your hand with his fingers this time, and when he returns to touching you, he climbs on the bed and hovers over you, lowering himself for a searing kiss.

“Good girl,” he hums against your lips.

You lose it, as if you hadn’t lost yourself already, but his deep voice and the way he grunts against your skin do something to you. You feel his cock not long after, and no amount of yearning for him could prepare you for how good he feels. He fills you up just right, and the gradual way he enters you while his eyes bore into yours has your stomach in knots and your heart beating out of your chest. 

���Fuck, fuck,” he mouths as he goes deeper. “Fuck, baby, you feel so, so good.”

He hits the edge and he settles for a while, letting you get used to the feel of him, but when you start to grind against him, he decides to do the same.  

He moves his hips, pushing then pulling out then pushing harder. He raises himself and intently watches your face distort in pleasure - your breath hitching, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded as you moan his name, as if it’s the only word you’ll remember after all this. He starts to increase the pace, loving the way your breasts bounce in response. Then he slows down, only so he could capture one of them in his mouth to suck and the other, in his hand to touch. 

The feeling of ecstasy overtakes you. He doesn’t go rough all the way, as you initially expected he would. Instead, he paces himself, going fast for a period of time and then slowing down to let both of you bask in the feel of each other. He doesn’t seem to want either of you to come right away, you can tell, by the way he moves and the way he looks at you - with a kind of longing and desire that feels so intimate.

He gets back on his knees after and spreads your legs, giving him more space to pound into you, and with his hands gripping your hips, he pulls it towards him to meet his. You feel him deeper inside, and it has you holding onto your breasts, pleasuring yourself there, too, as he starts fondling your clit once again. 

You’re feeling everything everywhere, and your mind starts to go hazy when he lifts your leg and places it over his shoulder, allowing him to enter you from an angle that has you mewling in intense pleasure. You feel your eyes rolling out, but somehow they land on him, and the way his head tilts back while he grunts in pleasure as he caresses your thigh is a sight that you want to keep seeing. That image of his clenched jaw and strained neck will be ingrained in your mind from now on.

You continue with this pace for a while until he lowers himself and kisses you, hard and deep the same way he thrusts into your hole. With his chest flushed against yours, his mouth sucking and licking your neck, and his hand flicking your pert nipples, you come, the deep inhale and the exhale of moans echoing inside the bedroom. 

Jungkook feels your essence despite the barrier, and it’s a kind of euphoria that pushes him to reach his peak. He hovers over you again, pinning your hands to your side for that anchor he needs. He meets your tongue with his, and then he pounds hard, wanting that high as you come down from yours. But you don’t hold back, as you meet his hips and curse and tell him how good he feels 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you seethe. “You fuck me so good. Fuck, fuck, yes. Keep going, please baby. Keep going.”

Your words push him over the edge, and he crashes before he knows it. He grunts as he catches a breath, a way to express the intense pleasure he just experienced. But he sees you still panting. You may have already come but another one won’t hurt, so he nibbles on your breasts again, knowing it won’t take long. You’re already close, and with a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, he feels you quiver again. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he mumbles. “I wanna hear your pretty sounds again.”

It doesn’t take long. There’s a tone of your moan that lets him know you’ve reached your peak, and he keeps that in mind for everyday that he plans on doing this to you.

You catch your breath, feeling as if you’re in a daze with what you just experienced. As you come down again, you meet his eyes. They were intense and lustful earlier but they’re soft now, just as his smile is. There’s contentment on his face and adoration. He kisses your lips, and that’s soft, too, before he turns to your side and lies on his back. 

Jungkook feels the exhilaration from that ride with you, and he definitely wants to do it again. But he knows he’ll have to recover. He turns to you and thinks that you’ll need some time, too, but he can’t help himself. He presses soft kisses on your torso, up until he reaches your cheek, and that causes you to smile.

He finally stands up and tells you he’ll clean up, and you nod, somehow needing a moment alone to wrap your mind around what just happened. 

It’s different, you think, when sex is with someone you actually feel really strongly for. All the ones before don’t compare. Sure, you were attracted to the men you dated, but they never made you feel anything close to this. Perhaps it’s Jungkook, but maybe it’s also you - for the first time, you’re giving more than just your time and your energy. For the first time, you’re giving your heart, too. All of it.

The thought makes you giddy. It also makes you shy because it all feels new. And it suddenly makes you hyper aware of where you are. 

You look around. This is a new room. Other than Jungkook’s bedroom, you’ve only been to his study; this door was always closed and you never had a reason to see what’s behind it. You know he doesn’t really have people over but you assume an extra bedroom is always good to have.

You start to feel cold without Jungkook’s warmth, so you shift on the end and pull the covers, burying yourself under it. You don’t remember where your dress is, and you’re suddenly too shy to just head out the room and get it. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits the bathroom with his boxers on, and even that has you feeling all kinds of things. 

“Hey,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” you respond.

He looks around and spots his dress shirt on the foot of the bed. He takes it and pulls away the blanket so he can make you wear it. He buttons it and fixes your hair, parting the damp strands and tucking them behind your ear. He helps you stand then you scurry towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

You don’t take long as you don’t want to make him wait, and when you open the door, you see him with his trousers back on, fixing the bed. On top of it are your folded dress and underwear. Between that and the shirt you’re wearing, something inside you stirs as you’re reminded again of how thoughtful Jungkook is. You like him for so many reasons, and now that you get to be with him like this, you’ll get to know him even more.

You don’t realize you’re staring at him as he moves about until he starts walking towards you. 

“I’ll get your clothes dry cleaned. Is that okay?”

You nod, giddy again and unable to speak. 

“I was also, uh, thinking. Do you want to spend the night with me? And maybe the one after, too?” He asks.

“I’d like that,” you smile. 

“Good,” he smiles back, kissing you deeply. “I was really hoping we get to do more of that.”

You laugh in response even if deep inside, you’re screaming in excitement. You’re still overwhelmed by all this, but you know that spending the evening and then waking up next to him will let you ease into this new life that you have. 

He laughs, too, when your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten anything since you left your mother’s house, and that was almost 12 hours ago.

“I actually don’t have anything in my fridge so let’s just order out.”

You nod, and shortly after, you find yourself sitting on the couch with him, your legs laying over his lap while his fingers caress your thigh. He’s got his arm around you and you sit there, just talking, while you wait for your dinner to arrive. 

You stay on the dining table when it does, and you remain there after you’ve both wiped out all the food. You both clean up, liking the domesticity that feels more real now, even more when he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. 

“I don’t have any makeup remover or anything like that,” he says from inside his bathroom. “Just cleanser. Is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah, that should be fine,” you say, following him inside. 

He places some skincare items on the counter and says that he’ll buy your brand this weekend. He grabs a towel and places it on the stool next to the shower before he turns to you. 

There’s a look of desire in your eyes, and though he’d initially thought that maybe you’d want to wash up on your own, the way you’re biting your lips makes him think that maybe you don’t.

He walks towards you and, with his fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt you have on, he looks at you in question as a way to seek permission. You nod, and it’s his confirmation. There’s something about you speaking to him with your eyes that has him nervous, but every approval you give stirs something in him. There’s your shyness but there’s also that desire to have him close.

He undoes the shirt, and though he’s already seen your bare body earlier, it still takes his breath away, as if it’s the first time he’s being graced with this, only because he’s been craving it for weeks.

Not much is said when he undresses after you, but you don’t really need words. Right as he turns on the warm shower, your lips are already on his. It’s sensual this time, as you both seem to want to savor this now that you have more time to spare. There’s still so much he wants to know and to feel, and he supposes there’ll be more days to learn all that. 

But then again, that could also be today, as you kneel on the floor and take his hardening dick in your mouth. You’re just as heavenly as he imagined, even more when you let him come on your chest and he’s dazed with how turned on you look. He finishes you off with you caged against the wall, your breasts in his mouth and his fingers inside your hole. It’s more languid kisses once you decide to actually take a shower, and going slow as you caress each other’s bodies is another feeling that he wants to keep having.

He gives you one of his shirts to wear before you both head to his bed. It’s past midnight and the day has started to catch up to him. He’s been tired since midday, and he would’ve crashed on his couch after finishing a bottle of whiskey if you hadn’t come. 

But you did, and the past few hours have been nothing short of amazing, as if it’s a dream he doesn’t believe is really happening. You lay next to his side, looking warm and comfortable with the softest smile on your face, a contrast to how you looked when you took him so deep in your mouth and moaned curses while you pulled on his hair as you came on his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him.

“A lot of things. Also nothing,” he says. “So much has happened today and I just… I just wanna sleep but I also want to stay awake with you a bit longer.”

“We’ll have more time together though,” you assure him. “We can talk about them tomorrow.”

He hums, knowing that his weekends from now on will no longer be boring like they used to be. 

“What about you, what are you thinking about?” 

“That your bed is so soft and your pillows smell so nice,” you respond, earning you a laugh. “Better than the one earlier. Although come to think of it, I didn’t even know you had a guest room.”

“It’s, well, uh… I wouldn’t really call it a guest room. I don’t really make people sleep there. Unless, they, uh, stay the night even if I told them not to.”

With his embarrassed face, the thought dawns on you. 

“You have a room specifically for your hookups?” You gasp. “You fucked me in your hookup room!”

You don’t seem angry but still, he supposes it doesn’t sound good when you say it like that.

“That… that was the closest room with something to lie on and I just wanted you so badly,” he explains, truly looking like he feels bad about it. “I only have that because I don’t let people in my room and well, you’re here now, aren’t you? I don’t like people being inside my space but you… I want you here. I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with apologetic eyes and you suddenly feel bad for reacting the way you did. It’s not a big deal. Maybe it isn’t ideal when you look back on it but then again, he fucked you so good, it doesn’t really matter. It also doesn’t matter where he does it. But maybe claiming other parts of his penthouse isn’t so bad.

“It’s okay, you made up for it,” you say, kissing his pouty lips to let him know it’s fine. 

There’s really nothing you can complain about, not when you’re next to him and feeling the safety and warmth of being by his side. There’s that comfort of being able to say and do what you want to, including expressing your desire without holding back anymore. That itself feels like freedom, and you get to live that out with him.

“We should probably skip that room for next time,” you add. “I mean, you have a nice bathtub and a spacious closet and a large couch and a wide dining table.., you have a study, a gym…” you smirk, something he does, too. “We have so many options.”

“We do,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you now. “We also have my bed, in case you forgot.”

“I was just about to say,” you giggle, sitting up and motioning for him to lie on his back. His smile is replaced with a lustful look once you start grinding against his clothed dick. “So, uhm, shall we?”

He grabs your hips and aids your movements, immediately feeling pleasure that he fortunately isn’t too tired to build on. He sits up and catches your lips in his. 

“I can do this all night,” he whispers.

And with languid kisses and curious hands mapping each other’s bodies, you feel the beginnings of learning what your heart could do. Right now, it’s racing, as it feels the desire to be one with him, to share in intimacy and vulnerability as you bare parts of yourself to him with no reservations. 

You know that starting today, there’ll be more that your heart will learn to do, like understand and forgive. One day, it will heal. And as it soars and finds a home in Jungkook’s arms, you know that one day, it will learn how to love, too.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist:

@sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @investedreader @petalsofink @stopeatread @craftymoonchaos @alpacaparkaseok @coletaehyung @boyfriendtaekook @moonchild1 @keshiadeija @nesha227 @src-9 @almatiarau @roseda

Series Taglist (1):

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

[reiderwriter]

ACK I'm so excited that your requests are open again! Um okay, this one feels a bit silly but I'd love a fic where fem!bau!reader is really attracted to Spencer and the way that he smells? (I just KNOW that man smells like cinnamon and a Scholastic Book Fair.) Like, she's been doing a good job hiding her crush from the team, until Spencer catches her eyes dilating at him when he's standing close. And he's an oblivious king, so he's trying to figure out why they were dilated. If it could be race blind like my last request, and from Spencer's POV, that'd be great. (Or split POV, if you'd rather). I really see this as fluff, but if you want to include angst or smut go right on ahead! Thank you for reading my request! Your writing makes my day.

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: This was so fun and silly, and I love writing awkward, puppy love Spencer because sometimes you just have to let yourself become mildly infatuated with a coworker. For the plot. Or at least character development. I hope you like this one!!

Warnings: none.

Masterlist

You thought you'd settled into work well in your first few weeks as a member of the BAU. You thought you were up to speed about everything going on in the office. There was just one mystery left to solve.

“Where is that smell coming from?” You whispered to yourself, frustratedly sniffing the air for the second day in a row as you attempted to locate the warm, delightful smell that seemed to follow you whenever you were in the office.

“Could be one of Garcia's scented candles. They tend to linger,” JJ said from her corner of the bull pen.

“No, I checked earlier and she said they made her throw those out weeks ago.”

Honestly, it was not knowing that was driving you insane. If you knew what the smell was, you could bottle it, spray it all around yourself, and wrap yourself in it like a little blanket. It somehow reminded you of home and of the public library you'd spent much of your childhood in.

After another day of being able to figure out whoever had bought the scent version of the Scholastic Book Fair mixed with homemade cinnamon buns, you gave up. 12 hours of paperwork, and you were just as excited to get away from the sight of brown folders as ever, and as everyone else in the bureau, evidently.

Grabbing your bag, you got in the line for the elevators alongside your team.

“Ready for the crush?” Derek said, punching Spencer Reid on the arm as they waited ahead of you.

“Ow,” the younger man muttered and you tried to hold your giggles back, rolling your eyes as you watched them in amusement.

Derek’s words were true, though. Every day at home time, the elevators packed up quickly, and being on the middle floor meant that it could often take a while for the elevator to come back to you. You swore it was half the reason Hotch stayed late most nights, just to avoid the crush of the trip home.

“I've been taking the DC public transport since I got this job. You think the elevators are bad. Try 8 am subway on a Monday morning.”

The doors opened, and the three of you climbed into the barely there space of the elevator. With a quick side step, you found yourself against the left wall of the elevator. But to your shock, the scent you'd been searching for for three weeks didn't dissipate as it usually did when you got on the elevator.

It was here. The source of the scent was here.

You tried to stay calm as it grew more potent, tried not to frantically look around searching for whatever man or woman was perfumed in heaven. The doors opened again, and more people squeezed in, and suddenly, you found yourself buried nose-first in whatever sensory heaven existed here on earth.

“Sorry,” you heard a mumble in front of you as Spencer held his hand against the wall above your head, trying to keep a polite enough distance so as not to squish you any further. Your mismatching heights, however, led to your face being just about level with his neck.

You really weren't trying to smell him, but you had to inhale, and each time you did, it was a sensory overload.

It was him. Dear God, it was him.

The proximity and his scent really weren't helping your brain stop short circuiting in that moment, and you had to remind yourself after a minute or two or three that you were staring.

Though evidently Spencer had already noticed, and was looking at you with some concern.

“Are you okay? It's pretty tight in here, but I can try and move back if you're uncomfortable.”

“No! No, it's okay,” you did your best not to shout the words out, suddenly wanting his smell and his body close forever.

You hadn't been looking before, but like a freight train at maximum speed, the weight of his attractiveness hit you all at once. There was a slight stubble peppering his jaw, his hair hanging slightly loose, eyes big, and brown, and beautiful. He was tall, and you knew he was strong from watching him manhandle unsubs each week.

To put it blankly, you spiralled. Hard. Straight into infatuation and attraction, and you felt your head growing light with the tipsy feeling of a girlish crush.

You were fucked.

Spencer was concerned about you for the next week.

For starters, he knew that most new hires pushed themselves to the extreme over the first month and ended up quickly burnt out, mentally and physically. He may not have the best physical stamina, but he knew the lengths he had to go to to maintain his mental and physical wellness while working the job.

Which was why he started looking out for you a bit more. Every time he looked at you, you were staring off into space, somewhere just past him, or around him, face glazed over.

He wondered if you had a fever a few times, subtly touching your forehead - wiping away some sweat or a strand of hair - to feel you, and you did always feel hot.

You insisted you were fine though. But the nervous panic, and the constant insistence made him wary enough to pull you aside one day and ask you straight to your face.

“Do you need something?” He said, having unassumingly lured you off to the meeting room without arousing suspicions.

“What? What do you mean?” You said, instantly defensive. You'd hoped you hadn't been as creepy as you knew you had and that he hadn't caught on to your stolen glances and sudden close proximity.

You really couldn't help it. The man smelt too fucking good.

“If you're feeling sick, no one is going to think any less of you for taking a half day, you know.”

His voice was so gentle, you almost didn't die from sheer embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh! Oh, oh no, I'm fine, I'm totally healthy. As a cow!”

“A cow?”

“Yes, I'm as healthy as your average farm animal. Can I go back to work?”

You made to leave, but he grabbed your wrist gently as you brushed past him, and it was like sparks travelled up your arm and pierced your heart directly.

“Spencer!?” you squeaked.

“Your heart rate is elevated, and you feel hot and clammy,” he said, which was exactly the kind of compliment you were aiming to receive from men you were falling for. “You should go see a doctor and then get some rest.”

“No, Spencer, that's not-”

“Everyone pushes themselves in these first few weeks. I had to take a week off after two days in the field from the weight of holding a gun up for so long, which is more embarrassing than it sounds, and Derek-”

“What cologne do you use?” you snapped, desperately hoping to both shut him up and also detangle yourself from this situation with at least one win under your belt. If you found out whatever the smell was he used, you could buy it, grow accustomed to it, and grow out of whatever phase you were going through before you out your job in jeopardy.

“What?”

“You smell… really good. I was wondering what cologne it is.”

“I don't… I don't really use cologne.”

You baulked, unable to stop your face from dropping as your dreams of detaching yourself from your little crush on Spencer Reid faded before your very eyes.

“Shower gel? Shampoo maybe?”

“They're both unscented.”

“So you just… you just smell like that naturally?”

It was his turn to flush then, though the panic never left your head fully.

“Sorry, is it… distracting.”

“Yes,” you whispered, but with such an exhausted exhale, it sounded like a dreamt sigh. You wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to open his jacket, step inside, bury your face in his chest, and fall asleep.

“I see.”

“Mhmm.”

A minute passed in awkward silence, and you wanted to kick yourself for blurting everything out. Quickly turning to leave again, you wished so dearly to erase the last five minutes of your life, sending up enough hail mary’s to absolve you of any sin.

“Lavender. And sometimes patchouli,” he called from behind you as you took your first steps to the door.

“Hmm?” you said, turning back around against your better judgment.

“What?”

“That's what you smell like,” he explained, hands suddenly very preoccupied with his jacket buttons. “I'm not great with scents, but you also smell… nice. Sorry, that was weird.”

“No, not at-”

“You know, the major histocompatibility complex genes are important for the immune system and appear to play a role in sexual attraction via body odour. Studies have shown that body odour is strongly connected with attraction in heterosexual females.”

“Oh. I didn't know that…”

“Do you want to grab dinner with me?”

The words almost knocked you back into the door, as sudden as they were. Had he just asked you on a date? Or was it a friendly coworker thing? A friendly coworker thing where he acknowledged your attraction to his scent and then invited you out on a date.

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

He did his best to suppress the smile, and you tried hard as well, though neither of you succeeded.

“Great, perfect,” he said, circling you as he made his way to the door, his eyes always turned to you no matter what. He likely regretted that as he bumped into first the edge of a table, then a chair, and then hitting the door with his back, but in your state of puppy love, you didn't care.

“It's a date,” he said, opening the door and walking away, cheeks flushed with heat.

[almonddirge]

Reputation

Transcription under the cut

“I should warn you… He’s terrifying.”

“Violence is his only solution.”

“Violence is his only solution.”

“All it takes to anger him… is one small misstep.”

“No one stands by him long.”

“Try not to let his demeaning words get to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

[kyracooneyx23]

You're My Little Secret - Kyra Cooney Cross

Kyra Cooney Cross x lionesses!reader

summary - kyra's coming to arsenal and none of the girls know that you already know each other very, very well.

warnings - nothing except its kinda crap, lot's of rambling. (let me know if you want me to make this a series)

Kyra Cooney Cross was Arsenal's latest signing, the young Australian leaving Hammarby to come and play for one of the biggest clubs in England. Most of the girls had known for a while now about her joining you since before the world cup.

Since the news was properly announced, Caitlin and Steph had made sure to send multiple essays on all the group chats about making the girl feel as welcomed as possible.

Unlike Kyra who had already played for two clubs, Arsenal becoming her third, you were much like Leah Williamson, you'd been with Arsenal since you were 8 and had risen up to the top through the academy and now were a frequent starter for the senior team.

Arsenal had become a home for you, and you never planned on leaving. All the girls had become your family, every single one of you shared a special bond. That's what made Kyra coming to Arsenal so awkward.

You didn't mean to keep such a big secret from everyone, you and Kyra had just wanted to stay private. No one knew, not even Katie who was like your older (extremely annoying) sister or Vic who was your best friend. Kyra hadn't even told Mini and Charli. You just never felt the need to tell them.

Only one person even knew the two of you had met before, but she didn't have a clue that you were together.

Even when they would constantly pester you, trying to get you to go on dates you just let them go on, always ignoring them.

But still after over a year of calling Kyra your girlfriend, not a single person knew about the countless kisses the two of you had shared, or all the nights you'd spent with only each other.

Nobody knew all the coffee dates or the late-night walks.

Nobody knew of the hours you'd spent on facetime when you were away from each other.

It was hard acting like you hadn't already known the girl for 2 years and been dating for 1 and a half of them. But it was better that way. You'd seen how crazy fans went about trying to prove that Katie and Caitlin were dating and the stress that had caused on their relationship, and all the times when they felt like they had no privacy. You and Kyra didn't want that. If you didn't tell anyone, not even your teammates and friends, there was no chance of the public finding out as long as you stayed discreet. But that was easy considering the two of you had a long distant relationship and no fans even knew the two of you had ever spoken to each other.

It was going to be harder now though.

Kyra had received many offers from clubs around the world, but when Arsenal had offered it was a no brainer that she would join the red and white team. She would do anything to be able to spend more time with you, a nice change to the normal distance in your relationship.

A few days after the news Kyra had joined was announced, it was her first day at the club. And for you it was your first time seeing most of the girls as you had been out since the end of the world cup with a minor ankle injury missing out on the games against Linköping and Paris FC in the champions league qualification.

Vic was the first person you greeted as she walked in, practically dragging her feet along the ground. You leaped onto your best friend wrapping your legs around her, forcing her to give you a piggyback.

'Get off me Sunny.' She groans trying to shake her body and get you off. You just wrapped your arms tighter around her neck resting your chin on her head.

Sunny was the nickname you had received when you had begun properly playing with the senior squad. The girls had been talking about you when the topic of your bubbly personality came up. You can’t remember who, but someone said something relating you to the sun and ever since then the name Sunny had stuck.

'But I haven't seen you in ages.' You complain before giving up and sliding down her body and landing on your bottom on the floor. A small pout on your lips. 'I hate you.' It was meant to just be a whisper but she still heard you, resulting in a kick in the head.

'Get up you big baby.' The Dutch girl demands, and you do as she says following her to the room where most of your teammates already were.

You go around the room giving everyone a hug, except for Steph and Caitlin your favourite people to annoy on the whole team. You tugged at both of their hair as they were facing away turning away almost immediately and diving into conversation with Beth and Leah.

You didn’t get to say much though, as a pair of hands turn you back around and your greeted by two pissed of Aussie's faces. Y/n L/n,’ you wince at the full name, the girls only ever saying it when you were in trouble, ‘we haven't even said a word to you and you're already annoying us.' Steph gives you a stern glare and you smile sheepishly.

It was well known by almost everyone that you loved to annoy your older teammates.

'We've only just gotten away from Kyra and now we have to deal with you, and her when she gets here too.' Caitlin groans, 'Do you reckon Jonas will let me resign and go play in a foreign country?' You grin cheekily at her, knowing that she really loved you. Katie often joked that you were like Caitlin's child as you always came to her whenever you had problems, and she always had your back.

'It's ok Cait,' You say, giving her a light pat on her shoulder 'I know you hate to admit it, but you love me.' She rolls her eyes at you wrapping you up in a headlock, you wriggle around, making weird, suffocated noises as you try to escape her grasp.

It's almost like fate that Katie walks in in that exact moment, you slip out of Caitlin's grasp and sprint over to the older Irish girl. 'Katie, you need to sort out your girlfriend.' You tell her urgently 'She was trying to kill me.' Katie laughs, looking over at her girlfriend who is back talking to Steph. The Ireland captain was used to the playful banter you and Caitlin had, often having to be the one to step in when you both took it a bit too far.

'Do I not even get a hello?' She teases you causing you to roll your eyes and poke her in the stomach. 'Oi, I'll get Caitlin to put you in another headlock.' She threatens.

'Please. No!' You plead, putting your hands up in defence before running over to Lotte. You slung your arm over her shoulder. 'Carlotte Mae Wubben-Moy.' You grin watching her face to see her reaction at her full name.

'You know how much I hate it when you call me that.' You don't have time to respond to her when Steph and Beth come and join the two of you.

'Is she annoying you as well?' Steph asks Lotte, giving her a sympathetic look as she sees your arm over her shoulder and your signature cheeky, smug grin that you always have whenever you are annoying someone. 'God you and Kyra are going to get along like a house on fire.' She tells you, her face slightly scared as she thinks of all the pesty things you and Kyra would do upon meeting each other.

Little did she know that you and Kyra already got on.

You’re about to respond but don’t get to as Jonas walks in. A hush settling in the room.

'Hello girls.' The Swedish man shoots everyone a smile as you all move to sit down on the chairs so you're facing him 'Special welcome back to Sunny, so nice to see you again after the break, congratulations on your success at the World Cup, you played brilliantly,' the mention of the world cup sends a stinging pain through you. You still hadn't fully recovered from the loss in the final to Spain, you were so close to winning and were still devastated that you couldn't get the result. 'Before we properly talk about the season ahead and reflect on the games against Paris fc and Linköping, I'd like to welcome our newest signing who I am sure will play a massive part in helping to lead us towards success. I am sure you already know who she is but please welcome Kyra Cooney Cross to the Arsenal family.' Everyone claps and some people even cheer as the Aussie comes into the room.

You almost immediately make eye contact with her who had been searching for you the moment she walked in. You have to bite your lip to hold back a large smile.

You hadn't seen her since the Lionesses had played the Matildas in the semifinals. You had been too busy recovering from your injury so you could be back in time for the start of the season to have time to properly catch up with her, so it took all your self-control not to get up and run into her arms.

She goes and sits with Caitlin, not wanting to make it weird if she went and sat with you.

You turn to Alessia who is sitting next to you, the two of you have a short conversation while Kyra is settling in, before you have to listen to Jonas talking about important stuff, but it was pretty much the same talk he had at the beginning of every season.

When he lets everyone go and do a light gym session, before proper training after lunch, you are almost immediately on your feet and heading into the gym.

You talk to Alessia but are hardly paying attention waiting for Kyra to come out wanting to say hi to your girlfriend. When she does, she's with Steph and Caitlin who are pointing at all the girls, probably telling Kyra all their names and stuff about them. You'd already done that over face time.

When Steph points to you and Alessia, you make eye contact again. This time you smile and wave at them. Kyra says something to them that you can't hear but they begin to walk over to you.

'I don't know if we should be doing this.' Steph says anxiously, who you can hear now since they were getting closer.

‘Doing what.’ Your girlfriend asks.

‘Introducing you and Sunny, you’re the biggest pests in the world.’ Caitlin tells her.

'We'll probably end up regretting this moment when they start stealing our boots every training session' Steph says and you grin at the left back.

'That's such a boring prank, I've got much better ones planned already.' You laugh and Caitlin rolls her eyes.

'Kyra this is y/n, but everyone calls her Sunny, Sunny this is Kyra.' Caitlin says to the both of you. It was weird hearing people introduce the two of you like you were strangers, but you played along with it anyways, not wanting to raise suspicions.

You pull her into a hug, and she wraps her arms back around you in return. You almost melt into her warmth, the familiar smell of her perfume consuming your nostrils. You could stay in Kyra's arms forever, but you know it would look weird if you stayed like this for too long.

'Nice meeting you.' Kyra says holding her hand out for you to shake. Her acting skills were terrible, she sounded like a robot, and you had to hold your breath so you wouldn't laugh at her.

'I look forward to playing with you this season.' You say back, knowing you probably sounded just as awkward as she did. You shake her hand, and she smiles slightly when she sees one of her rings on your finger. When you let go of each other Kyra turns to greet Alessia, this time the interaction seems more natural.

'It's going to be a tough race to see which one of you is more annoying.' Steph tells you as you and her watch Kyra interact with Alessia. You're not trying to look like a lovesick puppy, but as Caitlin looks at you from the side it's all she can think of, she tells herself she's just seeing things though, you can’t be looking at Kyra like she’s your long-lost lover. Right?

'I need the toilet.' Kyra whines to Steph after a while as the five of you are walking to the weights area of the gym.

'I'll show you where they are.' You say almost immediately, cringing at how eager you sounded to show a girl, who supposedly you were only meeting for the first time, where the toilets were. You played it off though missing Caitlin's small frown of confusion before she shrugs and says she'll meet Kyra at the cafeteria at Lunch.

'Don't get up to any mischief.' Steph tells Kyra in a way much like how a mother would talk to a child 'you don't want to make a bad first impression.' Kyra nods and you both watch as the two older Australians walk away.

'Lessi, you coming?' You ask the blonde striker, who shakes her head. 'I'm going to go and see Lotte.' She says leaving you and Kyra alone.

As you and Kyra walked off, you felt almost giddy. You had time just the two of you for the first time in ages. When you were out of sight from everyone else, yours and Kyra's hands intertwined.

'I've missed you so much.' She whispers a small smile cracking on your face.

'I've missed you more baby.' You say, turning around and holding open the door for her stepping to the side so she can enter. 'I'll wait out here for you.' A small frown forms on her cute face.

'I don't really need the toilet.' She tells you as though it was obvious 'I just wanted to spend time alone with you.' She steps closer to you placing a hand on your arm.

You two had been in moments like this too many times to keep count, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. Every time you were with Kyra, whether it be on facetime or in person, you'd constantly be questioning how you got so lucky to have a girl like her.

When she's so close to you that your chests are basically touching, you close that small gap placing your lips on her. Your hand holds the back of her neck, keeping her as near as possible, whilst hers sneak underneath the fabric of your training top running up and down your back. The contact of her skin on yours gives you shivers, turning into putty at Kyra's touch.

As the two of you were sharing a passionate moment, Steph and Caitlin were doing warmups in the corner of the gym, their voices were hushed but intense.

'I don't know, Steph.' Caitlin whispered; her brow furrowed with suspicion. 'Did you notice how they were acting before? It was just… off.' Steph nodded thoughtfully, adjusting the weights before her next shoulder press.

'Yeah, it was weird. Like they were trying too hard to act normal.' She glanced around before leaning in closer. 'Do you think they're hiding something from us? Like, maybe they knew each other before, and they've been keeping it from us this whole time?' Caitlin eyes widened with realization.

'I think you might be onto something. How else do you explain why Sunny was so eager to take Kyra to the toilet. and the way she was looking at her.' They exchanged knowing looks.

'Should we ask them about it?' Steph asked her Aussie teammate who just shook her head.

'Let's just see how the next few days go,' Caitlin says, not wanting to jump straight to conclusions 'There's probably nothing even going on and we're just overthinking. Sunny can be very friendly, that's probably it.' Steph hums in agreement the two of them changing the subject to Steph's upcoming wedding.

Back in the toilets you and Kyra were still making up for lost time. The two of you had moved into the bathrooms, you were sitting on the sink your legs wrapped around Kyra's torso. She had undone your plait, so your hair was now loose, all knotty from her hands being tangled in it.

When you pull away Kyra's eyes are glued to your face. The midfielder memorising every single detail almost as if she was never going to see you again. 'God your gorgeous.' She mumbles placing a light kiss on your jaw, you lean your head back a slight sigh of pleasure escaping your lips. Kyra uses this as an opportunity to place wet kisses all along your neck but you're quick to push her away knowing it would look strange if you came out of the toilets with fresh hickies littering your neck.

'Not now.' You tell her when she pouts, your quick to slide off the sink and readjust your t-shirt. 'We should get going before anyone notices we’ve been gone for a while.’

‘But I’ve only just got to see you.’ She complains clinging to your arm like a koala clings to a tree. ‘five more minutes? She begs giving you puppy eyes that you normally found it very hard to say no to.

‘I’m sorry Ky, but we really got to go otherwise they’ll start wondering where we are.’ It takes a minute of persuading Kyra, and then fixing your hair and hers before you’re walking back out to where everyone else is.

‘I’ve never heard anyone call you Sunny before.’ Kyra says.

‘Really? Surely you’ve heard someone call me it before, everyone does.’ You say slightly shocked, even your parents had started calling you Sunny.

‘Nope, never have.’ The Aussie answers ‘I think I’ll stick with babe and my love. You know, the names only I can call you.’ She sends a wink your way and you shove her lightly.

'Who said I wasn't seeing anyone else?' A teasing grin plasters your face as you joke with Kyra, her face turning stone cold.

‘I’ll take my ring back; I’ve been wondering where that was for a while now.’ She warns making you laugh.

‘Oh yeah.’ You’d almost forgotten about the ring ‘I think it looks better on me though. I even put it on my middle finger so I could do this.’ You flip her off making her jaw drop.

‘That is not the way you should be treating your amazing, super-hot and funny girlfriend is it?’ She teases ruffling your hair.

‘C’mon Ky.’ You sigh, undoing your hair again and re-plaiting it ‘That’s the second time you’ve messed my hair up already today.’ She laughs.

You are back in the gym now, hopping onto the bikes to do your warmups while Kyra leaves you to go back to Caitlin. When you get off the bike you grab a mat to do your stretches, alone until Vic comes next to you.

‘I’ve been looking for you for ages.’ She says sitting next to you watching as you stretch. ‘We need to do our pull-up comp, you may have beaten me last year but I want revenge.’ She grins and you roll your eyes.

‘As if. I love your confidence though.’

‘I’m serious, I’ve got this one in the bag.’ Vic tells you one you've finished, you and Vic make your way over to the pull up machines. Manu noticed the two of you getting ready and since last year, when you two had started the pull up competition everyone had been placing bets on who would win.

‘Everyone, Vic and Sunny are doing the pull up comp.’ The Austrian shouts catching most people’s attention.

Kyra was with Caitlin and Katie at the far side of the room, but still heard the goalkeepers loud shouts. ‘What is that?’ She asked the older pair.

‘When Vic joined last year her and Sunny did a competition to see who could do the most pull ups. Sunny won and Vic is determined to win this year.’ Katie says, catching Kyra’s interest. She’d love to see her girlfriend doing pull ups with her muscles on full display.

'Let's go watch.' Kyra insists, not leaving the others much a choice as she's already gotten up and started walking over.

'Someone's a bit eager.' Katie chuckles to Caitlin.

'Yeah.' The aussie responds, though her voice is only a mumble as her thoughts were still thinking about her and Steph's conversation from earlier.

When the trio reached the pull up machines, you and Vic were mid argument about who was going to go first. 'I won last time so I should get to pick.' You stated, restating your argument for the 100th time.

'Exactly.' Vic sighs, 'You won, so you don't need an advantage.' Everyone groans, some people who had gathered round to watch debating walking away if the two of you were going to keep going back and forth arguing the same points.

'Do you want to do this or not?' Manu asks the two of you, standing in between you to temporarily stop your bickering. 'Because if you carry on we're going to have to go outside before you can actually do the comp.'

'Fine.' You spit giving Vic a nasty glare 'You can go first, but you'll still lose.'

'Will not.'

'Will so.'

Will not.'

Will s-'

'Can the two of you shut up for once?' Lotte interrupts and you look around noticing that Lia, Sabs and Stina had all returned to their workouts.

'Sorry guys.' You apologize before walking over to the bar and getting your grip ready. When Manu says go you start, at first its easy and you breeze past the first 8, but then your arms begin to ache and you slow down each pull up becoming harder and harder.

'C'mon Sunny!' People begin cheering, their shouts getting louder as you get to your 15th, you use all your leftover strength to do one more before collapsing.

After catching your breath, you get up, sending Vic a cheeky smile as she gets on the bar ready to have her turn.

You spot Kyra watching from afar with Caitlin and Katie, not knowing that the girl was replaying your pull ups in your mind. The whole time she had been practically drooling over you, mainly your biceps that were on display.

No one had noticed the midfielders lovestruck expressions as she watched her girlfriend work out.

Everyone except Steph.

When Kyra notices you staring she smiles, dimples forming on her cheeks. She walks over to you and you've completely forgotten about the competition, unbeknownst to the loud cheers as Vic also reaches 16 pull ups. People sighing as she's unable to complete a 17th.

'Maybe I should get some bars so I can see you do that every day.' Your girlfriend whispers in your ear when she reaches you a small smile breaking onto your face.

'You enjoyed that did you?' You tease flexing your muscles causing Kyra's cheeks to get a light pink tint and her to stumble on her words.

You pull your sleeves back down when Vic wraps her arms around you. 'Were you even watching Sunny?'

A feeling of guilt washes over you as you realise you were too caught up with Kyra to watch Vic have her turn.

'Yes...'

'You little shit.' Vic gasps when you fail at lying 'I think you should be disqualified...' She turns around to everyone else 'Who else thinks Sunny should be disqualified?' she shouts everyone immediately agreeing.

'You guys.' You wine, hurt by their betrayal 'You don't even know why Vic thinks I should be disqualified.'

'Yeah but it's worth it to see you mad.' Katie laughs causing you to flip her off. 'I wouldn't be doing that if I were you.'

Later, when everyone was outside doing drills Steph and Kyra were distanced from the the others. The older girl asking Kyra about how she was settling in so far.

The left back, who had not been able to stop thinking about how you and Kyra had been acting strange decided now would be a good time to ask about you.

Steph leaned forward slightly, her expression curious yet casual. 'You and Sunny seem to get along really well. Do you like her?'

Kyra felt a pang of panic shoot through her. She hadn't expected Steph to pick up on anything. She tried to keep her voice steady, hoping that Steph was just being curious. 'Oh, um, Sunny? Yeah, she's… she's nice. We get along.' Kyra's words stumbled over each other, her mind racing for a suitable explanation.

Steph raised an eyebrow, her gaze penetrating. 'You seem a bit flustered,' she remarked softly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. 'Is there something you're not telling me?'

Kyra's heart sank. She hadn't planned for this conversation to take such a turn. You would kill her if Steph found out. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one else was listening in. 'I… I don't know what you mean Steph.' she managed finally, trying to keep her voice light despite the knot of anxiety in her stomach.

Steph leaned back, still smiling knowingly. She knew Kyra was hiding something. 'Come on, Kyra,' she said gently. 'I can tell when something's up. You can talk to me.'

Kyra sighed inwardly, knowing she couldn't keep denying it. She glanced over at Sunny, who was engrossed in her phone, oblivious to their conversation. 'It's… it's not like that,' Kyra began awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. 'We're just got along straight away.'

Steph's smile turned into a grin of amusement. 'Uh-huh,' she teased lightly. 'Sure, just friends.'

Kyra felt a mix of relief and nervousness. She hadn't intended to reveal anything, but now it seemed Steph was onto something. "I… I really mean it, I think that we're going to be close, that's all.' Kyra insisted, hoping her voice sounded convincing.

Steph chuckled softly, shaking her head. 'Okay, Kyra,' she said, her tone affectionate. 'Whatever you say.'

As they continued the drills, Kyra couldn't help stealing glances at you, when you looked up and caught her eye, you gave her a happy smile. Kyra thought Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Kyra couldn't deny the warmth she felt knowing that Steph suspected something, even if she hadn't outright admitted it.

[drabblesbyjubs]

Just Need Time

Astarion x gn! Tav Reader, Astarion is pent up but also wants to please the reader, he makes himself want to have sex with reader but reader stops him and helps him figure out what he really wants. Fluff, smut, a little bit of angst. Minors DNI

Tws// mentions of sexual trauma, Astarion’s backstory stuff, mild disassociation for a few minutes, trauma, mild spoilers for non ascended Astarion’s ending, sexual content and smut

.

I want everyone to know that I got stuck working an 8 hour shift as a cashier on my last day of work so I wrote this between customers, enjoy and here’s to my new job

Time with Astarion is sacred.

After nearly losing him multiple times throughout your journey to rid yourselves of the mind flayer parasite, you’d come to appreciate every second you spent with him. Every moment during the day, snuggling and spending time with one another, and spending the nights running through Faerûn and enjoying the adrenaline of exploration, it was all beyond precious to you both.

But especially to Astarion. For the first time in two centuries, he belonged to himself; he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, be what he wanted. He was free.

That didn’t mean he was alright, though.

Being with you had helped. You’d shown him freedom, devotion, and everything he’d ever wished he could have had in a partner. But part of his mind was still stuck in that dark, dank crypt, the smell of mildew festering in his lungs, the fear at the sound of every footstep lurking in his heart. The nights he was let out, but not to be free, only to use his body to gain some innocent soul’s trust and bring them back for him to take out his most wretched fantasies on.

Astarion was usually the victim of these fantasies, but if Cazador truly did what he wished with Astarion, well, there would be no more Astarion to take out those fantasies on.

Those memories plagued his mind nearly every night. He often woke from the nightmares feeling utterly emotionless, numb to the world. Fear aches low in his heart, and he would roll over and scoot up to you. You took him in to your arms with no question; you already knew.

Sometimes he would jolt out of bed, too enveloped by the memories to realize it was you next to him. He would become defensive, either scared of you or insisting you leave before he came back. When he snapped back to reality, he was utterly humiliated, but you never shamed him, always made him feel like everything would be okay, and he would forget about the terrors of the night before by the time you two set out for adventure after sunset.

He wanted more than anything to be like a normal person; completely comfortable in his relationship, never a fear that things would go awry, blindly trusting and accepting of everything you did. You understood why he couldn’t be like that, and did your best to make him feel as close to normal as he ever could. And gods, did he love you for that. You were utterly hypnotizing, he would tear out his heart with a stake if you asked him; hell, he would carve the stake himself. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

And even if you assured him he owed you nothing at all, not even a passing glance, he wanted to give you something to make you happy.

He often gave you wildflowers, knowing you always liked the bright colors and soft petals, or smooth, shiny rocks he found down by the creek, or little rings and necklaces he bought with his dwindling gold supply when the two of you went in to town. But he still often felt like the only thing he could do right enough to truly make others happy was sex.

It was practiced, it was routine. Use his body to make someone feel good, make a few pretty faces, and it was done. There was something safe in the familiarity of it, though the sheer gut wrenching disgust that followed after never sit right with him.

You hadn’t hesitated to agree when Astarion had asked if you two could stop having sex for a while. Your sexual activity had dwindled anyways; you’d often told him you were just tired, or wanted to make sure you had plenty of energy for the coming day. Part of him knew you could tell he didn’t really want it, but he chose to believe you just wanted a break, and it was relieving to not have to perform. It was a weight off of his shoulders.

But more recently, he’d been pent up. He found himself craving release; of course he thought of coming to you for help, but the thought of having to perform, to make you feel good and owe you that pleasure after he takes his own, it sent a writhing sensation under his skin. As much as he liked the thought of seeing your eyes filled with arousal, he didn’t want that feeling of perform. Continue. No choice. Earn your life, bring him someone.

But he wanted to make you happy. He had done this so many times before; why not once more, just to see you satisfied? You must be pent up as well after so long of dealing with his unwillingness to give you something so simple. It was the least he could do. He would achieve the release he’d began to crave, you would be happy, and he would know you would stay with him and know he cared for you.

..

Astarion rolled above you, that mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Someone’s in a playful mood tonight,” you teased, to which Astarion hummed.

“Whoever could that be?” He muttered, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss. You felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip, but before you could grant him entrance, he pulled away, before moving to mouth softly at your neck. You hummed, your chest fluttering as you inhaled. You could feel his lips move against you, his tongue swiping over the scars of old bites, his canines brush dangerously over the delicate skin of your neck.

You put your hands on his chest and muttered, “Mmh, Astarion, what’s going on?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in a questioning tone.

“You don’t normally act like this,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

“So sweet for asking,” he murmured. “Just pent up. I want you, if you’ll have me.”

You scanned over his face; nothing seemed off. He seemed genuine. You weren’t sure why he was offering though; this wasn’t like him. Maybe he was actually just pent up?

“You promise you’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much?”

“Of course, love,” he breathed against your neck, softly nipping at the skin there, threatening to break skin.

You nod, hands running up his sides. “Okay. As long as you promise.”

Astarion gave a pleased sound, his hands snaking under your shirt. Calloused fingertips brushed against your skin, before pulling your shirt up above your head and leaning down to kiss at your shoulders, mouth at your collarbones, and nip at your chest.

You gave a shaky sigh, your hand running over his back, savoring the way he arched against the touch. He was good at this, no doubt, but it always hurt you to think of *why.*

Astarion leaned back, staring down at you almost hungrily. He pulled his own shirt over his head, and you leaned up to run your hands over his chest and his stomach, before leaning in to kiss at the little dimple between his collarbones. He was always finicky about kissing his neck, especially on the side Cazador bit him on, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you stuck to his shoulders and chest for now.

His hands found your waist, and as you pulled away from him, you saw the slightest flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he pushed you down to the bedroll and pulled your hips up against his, softly grinding against the curve of your ass.

You weren’t worried about that, though; you saw the way his eyes had slowly grown foggy and distant, the loss of expression, and the way his touches became almost rhythmic, nearly robotic; practiced and routine.

“Stop,” you said.

Astarion snapped out of it in an instant, present here and now once more. “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

“Hun,” you leaned up, scooting your hips apart from his and gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do!” Astarion insisted, “Gods, I want this, please, I’m sorry, just let me-“ he hurriedly began grabbing at your hips, trying to pull you closer,

“Darling, stop.” You said, more assertively this time. His shoulders slumped and the look in his eyes broke your heart; he looked desperate, but not for sex. He looked so disappointed in himself.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him in for a hug. “Do you remember when I told you you don’t owe me anything?” He didn’t hug you back, but his forehead rested against your shoulder, and he gave a brisk little nod.

“But I do want it,” he said. “I just… I don’t want to have to give back, or be touched, or just… I don’t know, but I want something, and I-“

You hushed him, sensing his growing stress, running your fingers through his hair. You turned to kiss his temple, and he gave a happy little sound.

“I think I get it. You want to keep your control of your body, but don’t want to have to feel like you owe me pleasure either?” You questioned. He gave a brisk little nod.

“That’s alright. Astarion, we don’t have to do anything like this, I never want your to feel pressured, and-“

“But I do want… something like this.” He rebutted. “I just… want a little. I don’t know. I really am pent up. I’ve tried handling it myself, time and time again… I’ll sneak off into the woods and… and try and rid myself of these desires. But it… just… never works. I cant… I just cant. Not alone.”

You furrowed your brow, feeling just how embarrassed he was with the way he shuffled and squirmed against you, clutching at your sides.

“You mean… you can’t touch yourself, or..?”

“I can’t finish,” he corrected, his words rushed and jumbled.

“Oh,” you said. You kept running your fingers through his hair, taking a moment to think. You could tell how much this embarrassed him, just by how he was acting. “That’s alright, Astarion. What do you want me to do to help?”

“I… don’t know,” he breathed. “I just… I’m frustrated, i need something..”

“Would it be too much for me to touch you like that right now?” You asked him.

He nodded his head, and you pulled back, looking at him as you gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Red eyes looked up to meet your own, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, if only to comfort him. “Yes, i think that would be too much right now. Maybe… maybe I could… i could touch myself and you can just… be here?”

You flushed a little with his words, but you nodded and kissed the tip of his nose, savoring the way he smiled.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said. “Here,” you began shifting him and yourself.

You moved so he was laying on his side, you laying behind him. Your chest was pressed to his, and you felt the full body shudder that went through him. “This okay?” You asked, and he nodded. You cuddled up to his back, and hummed to him, “Then go ahead, my love. Do what you want.”

Astarion shuddered and you could feel him moving to slip a hand under the hem of his pants. You gently rested a hand on his hip, not sensing anything saying he disliked the touch. His breathing slowly started to pick up, and you could feel him palming himself softly before slipping his cock from his trousers. You hummed your approval, whispering to him, “That’s a good boy.” He whined low in his throat, and you felt his arm start to move as he began stroking himself. You couldn’t see at this angle, but you felt the way his body would slowly start tensing, his chest rising, could see the way he tried to bury his face in the pillow, knowing you were right behind him as he touched himself.

You muttered soft coos of approval to him as he chased his pleasure, each of your words making his breath hitch just a little more.

You hummed, “So good for me, my love, making yourself feel good. Love watching you like this.”

You could so easily ignore your own arousal if it meant you got to witness his. He was beautiful.

Astarion gasped, “D-darling, gods… the way you talk to me, hah, makes me… fuck, I need it…” he trembled and began stroking himself faster, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You smiled against his neck and kissed the pale skin softly, feeling the way it made his entire body shudder. His breathing slowly turned in to whines, desperate and strained.

Your hand ran up to his chest, brushing over the soft skin, savoring the little twitch he gave when your hand ran over his nipples, moving to feel over his rib cage as you whispered how beautiful he was, making himself feel good like this.

You kissed his temple, the saltiness of his sweat clinging to your lips. You caught a glimpse of that beautiful face when he tilted it back to arch himself; brow furrowed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. “Gods,” you breathed, his red eyes fluttering open. You leaned up to kiss him, not even attempting to look down and see him desperately chasing his release, knowing that catching a glimpse may be too much for him.

You buried your face back in his neck, and he gave a high pitched whine, gasping, “C-can’t… fuck, love, ah, please, I can’t do it, please, help me,” the last words came out as a mere whisper, and you could feel how frantically he was moving in attempting to chase his release. Worried he would hurt himself, you whispered to him, your hand slowly trailing down his hips to rest on his upper thigh.

“May I touch you?” You asked.

“Please,” he nearly sobbed, letting himself go and grabbing your wrist to guide you to his cock. You wrapped your hand around him, heavy and hot in your palm. He was so hard, gods it must have hurt.

You stroked him softly, your thumb swiping over his tip and smearing his precum over himself. He whimpered, still holding your wrist, and you could feel the way his entire body trembled. “Please,” he whispered.

You kissed the back of his neck, mouthing at the flesh there softly as you set your pace, stroking him and smearing his pre over the head, making your hand much slicker to give him a feeling that, if his whimpers and trembles said anything, must be quite lovely.

He jolted and whined, his cock twitching in your hand. You could tell he was close, losing himself to the pleasure, one hand having a death grip on your wrist and the other tangled in the furs of the bedroll. You’d never seen him so lost to himself.

He gasped, “I’m gonna-!” Not even able to get out his warning before your felt his release coating your hand. You stroked him through his orgasm, savoring his gasps, catching the slightest glimpse of a furrowed brow and open mouth, eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill from the corners.

“That’s it, hun,” you breathed to him. “That’s a good boy. Let go for me.”

You kept stroking him until he gave a particularly harsh jolt, with which you withdrew your hand and wiped it on some miscellaneous clothing tossed near your bedroll. You kissed the back of his neck, savoring the silence for a moment.

Astarion was the first to speak. “Thank you,” he said.

“I hope it was to your liking. It wasn’t too much?”

“No, it was wonderful. I… needed that. Do… you want me to take care of you?” He rolled over to face you, glancing down to your trousers. You could see the unease stirring in his eyes at the thought alone

You shook your head. “Tonight was about you. I’m just happy I got to see that pretty face when you came,” you teased, fighting a laugh at Astarion’s shocked and embarrassed expression.

“Gods, you’re truly insufferable sometimes.”

“Same to you, my love,” you teased, kissing the tip of his nose and pulling him in close. You pulled a blanket up over his waist to give him some cover, to which he hummed his appreciation and nuzzled in to your chest, sleep catching the both of you and luring you into its embrace.

[callmeagardengnome]

˚ʚ in my head ɞ˚ | CHOI JONGHO

pairings ᯓ idol!jongho x music producer!bartender! fem!reader

genre ᯓ soulmate au, one-shot

synopsis ᯓ music producer in the day, bartender by night, you never had time to find your soulmate. little did you know that he happened to be the cute guy at the bar - and the one you hear singing falsettos in your head.

w.c ᯓ 2.9k

c.w ᯓ alcohol

author’s note: yes i got creative with this

not proofread!

masterlist

“cheers!”

the sounds of glasses clinking and beer chugging filled the bar as the night grew.

the bar wasn’t famous by any means - it was tucked away in a quiet corner where most people wouldn’t notice. yet, there were plenty of regulars that kept business going.

to you, nights at the bar were an escape. you had another job as a music producer - making beats for different artists and getting your tracks to play on the radio.

even though you were well-respected in the industry, no one knew your face. it wasn’t on purpose at first, but after a while, you didn’t see the point in revealing it. you could work on music while living a normal life, away from the paparazzi.

just as you were putting away the bottles, you heard a clear voice singing in your head - one that you’ve been hearing for a long time.

when you were young, around 8 or 9, you were alone at home when a voice suddenly broke the silence.

you tried to cover your ears as a boy sang shaky notes and an off-putting melody, but nothing you did drowned out the random voice you heard. obviously freaked out, you told your parents about it.

“honey that’s you’re soulmark.. you can hear you soulmate’s voice whenever they sing.”

night after night, you heard him singing as you tried to go to sleep. you must have gotten a theatre kid with the amount of hours he would sing - albeit bad most of the time.

but sometimes, you catch yourself humming along with his singing.

after a while.. he got better. when you were in high school, your soulmate continued to work on his singing and actually improved, which made you quite happy.

you started to make chips for the people at the back of the bar, his warm voice echoing in your head. the voice you heard now was clear, polished, emotional, velvety - almost like honey. it completely different than the one that you heard as a kid.

you wondered where he was, what he was doing right now. why does he train his voice so much? is he a singer? does he know how good he sounds? does he know that you exist?

you pushed these questions away, not wanting to get into another spiral. you focused on your job, listening to his voice instead of popping in earbuds.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

the first time jongho heard your voice, he was stunned.

the idol had always been interested in singing, even before discovering his soulmark. from his childhood to his teenage years, he spent hours in his room, working on his singing and trying to get over the awkward, scratchy phase of his voice.

he remembered being in his room, late at night, when he suddenly heard a voice - a girl’s voice, humming softly out of nowhere.

initially, he thought that it was his imagination, or a sound that was coming from the TV. but after a while, the humming was in-sync with the song that he was singing.

he found out about the soulmark, and over time, jongho looked forward to your voice - even feeling sad even he hadn’t heard it in a while.

years later, he made it - he debuted with ATEEZ, becoming a successful idol with a fanbase. he finally got the job that he’s been wanting for so long.

despite the wins, he’s constantly thinking about you.

you may not know it, but your voice is actually good. even though you’ve never went for professional vocal lessons, jongho found your voice to be unique, smooth - he would actually consider singing a duet with you.

your voice became something that grounded him, something that gave him comfort when he was stressed.

and tonight, it was especially stressful. he had just finished a long day of rehearsal and recordings. not only, he hadn’t had an actual break in ages - he needed a place where he could sit down and relax, away from the cameras and microphones.

jongho put on his mask and cap, stepping out onto the street. he wandered about, until he found himself in front of a bar he’s never seen before. he was about to walk away until he heard the sounds of laughter that made him drag his feet back to the door.

he stepped into the bar, feeling the cozy surroundings wrapping him up like a blanket.

it was completely different than the studio he was at before hand. no bright lights, no loud music - exactly what he needed.

he suddenly felt a weird pull towards the bar counter. confused, he looked around, checking out the people in the place before his eyes landed on you.

you were behind the bar, wiping down a glass. “she’s pretty..” a thought echoed in his mind before he brushed it away.

jongho didn’t realise it yet, but your souls were wanting to reach for each other. he made his way to the bar counter and sat down in front of you.

you looked up, offering a warm smile. “hi, what can I get for you?” you asked, your voice smooth and sweet, something that he wasn’t expecting.

he glanced at the bottles behind you, before saying, “soju, please,” as he took out cash and putting it on the counter.

you nodded, retrieving a bottle of soju along with a shot glass. “here you go,” you said, placing it in front of him.

to your surprise, he didn’t ask for a bottle opener. instead, he opened the bottle with a spoon lying around on the counter. he then pulled down his mask and started to take a long swig of the soju, directly from the bottle.

jongho paused mid-chug, noticing your shocked expression. he set the bottle on the counter, wiping his mouth.

“sorry, it’s been a long day,” he admitted along with an awkward laugh.

you bit back a smile as you saw how nervous he was. “hey, i’m not judging. this is a bar,” you chuckled, collecting his money and putting it in the register.

from the corner of your eye, you watched as he nodded and continued to drink, more relaxed than earlier.

“you don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it, i’m all ears,” you mentioned, trying to gauge his reaction before you continued.

“i’m basically an unlicensed therapist to anyone that comes into this bar,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

jongho looked at you in surprise, not expecting the offer. he hesitated - should he open up? guessing by your lack of reaction to his face, he knew that you weren’t a kpop fan or at least you didn’t know who ATEEZ was. it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it..

he took another long chug of the soju before speaking. “there’s been.. a lot of things happening,” he sighed, his voice quieter. “work is stressing me out.”

you nodded, leaning against the counter as you listened. “yikes, i can only imagine,” you said, encouraging him to continue. “sounds like you got a lot on your plate”

“you can say that,” he replied, looking down at the empty soju bottle. “it just feels like time is moving too fast and i can’t catch a break. i mean- i can’t even remember the last time i slept properly.”

you studied him closely, seeing how his shoulders slumped down as he spoke. you reached out and patted his shoulder. “that’s a tough spot to be in,” you sighed, knowing where he was coming from.

“but at least you’re here now, right? relax a little, let yourself breathe- or even drink another bottle if you’d like,” you grinned.

jongho looked up, meeting your gaze properly for the first time since he sat down. it was strange, he didn’t even know you - he didn’t even know your name. yet, here he was feeling.. comfortable? safe? he wasn’t sure.

“thanks..” he mumbled out, his voice soft. “i didn’t think i would be talking about this tonight. looks like i needed it though.”

you gave a small laugh before taking his empty bottle away. “i’m more than happy to listen.”

“really?” he asked as you threw away the bottle, a small but genuine smile tugging on his lips.

“of course,” you snorted. “seriously, i’m here most nights so don’t be shy and come here more. there’s gonna be a bottle of soju waiting for you.”

he chuckled, “i might take you up on that.”

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

over the next few weeks, jongho found himself returning to bar whenever he could. he’d come late after rehearsals or performances, trying his best to talk to you as much as possible.

you noticed his visits becoming more frequent, but you didn’t mind. in fact, his presence made it easier to get through your shift - especially with the chats you both had.

“how long have you been bartending for?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“about.. two years? maybe three?” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to think back to when you first started. “i only started because my other job isn’t stable.”

“other job?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “what’s your other job?”

you grinned, putting a finger on your lips. “it’s a secret.”

one night, jongho walked into the bar, his eyes landing on you. smiling, he went straight to the same spot at the counter like he did every time.

“hey,” you greeted, already reaching for a soju bottle to place in front of him.

but before you could set it down, jongho’s hand stopped you. “actually-“ he began. “i want to try something different tonight.”

“really?” you asked in surprise. “what do you want to try?”

“what’s your favourite drink?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

your lips curled into a smile. “my favourite?” you echoed. you started to move over to a few bottles and started to prepare the drink. “it’s pretty strong, but not overbearing.”

jongho nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “i trust you.”

every time jongho came over to the bar, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. you felt guilty - after all, you had a soulmate out there. hearing his melodic voice singing when you reach home didn’t help either. you had a soulmate out there, waiting for you to find him while you were fawning over another guy at the bar.

you convinced yourself that he was just a normal friend - ignoring the long gazes he would send your way, his laugh that made you feel butterflies and the compliments he would give that made your heart skip a beat.

and jongho would feel the same way too. each time he went into the bar, it wasn’t just for the drinks, or the atmosphere. it was for you. he couldn’t deny the way you pulled him in, the way that you made him want to know more about you, and the way you smiled whenever you looked at him.

yet, he stopped himself from being so attached to you. he would still hear the singing of the girl sometimes, the soft voice reminding him that his soulmate was out there. it didn’t matter how he felt about you - he knew that he had to see you as a friend, as hard as that would be.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

the soft music in the background of your living room played as you set two mugs on the coffee table.

it was weird having jongho in your apartment.

it had been about 5 months since you’ve known each other, yet it feels like longer. the two of you only recently started to hang out at your apartment, with jongho saying that he finally had a ‘break’ from his job. the two of you got closer and closer, talking about random things that popped up in your mind.

“oh- and by the way, i’m an idol,” he said casually, scrolling on his phone.

“WHAT?”

“yeah you should check my group out sometime.”

while you told yourself to look into ATEEZ, there would always be things that would push you away. every time you were about to search ATEEZ in youtube, your manager would call you in for an extra shift, or you would have to go for a meeting with other artists about the track you sent them. it was almost as if there was something preventing you from watching him.

jongho leaned back into your couch, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen at the bar. “hey, where’s your bathroom again?”

you gave him a look before replying, “you go down that corridor and go to the door on the left.”

nodding, he put his phone away and walked away in that direction. suddenly, you heard a gasp coming from him.

“what?” you shouted, concerned.

“‘___’,” he said, eyes wide. “do you make music?”

you froze for a second before running over to him. the door he opened led straight to your home-studio, where your computer, your guitar, your keyboard - anything and everything music related was.

jongho entered looking at the shelves. he noticed that there were a plethora of albums and records from a famous producer, one that he recognised.

“is.. is this you?” he said, pointing to the album.

you hesitated, but decided to rip off the bandaid. “yeah-“ you admitted, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “sorry i didn’t tell you- i didn’t want to make it a big deal..” you said as you walked towards him.

jongho’s eyes softened, letting out a small laugh as he held your record. “hey, i’m not mad.”

“if anything i’m impressed,” he continued, studying the room. “i mean- i’m friends with one of the most popular and talented producers. how lucky am i?”

you smiled, feeling a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “you’re literally an idol, what are you talking about?”

the both of you started to talk about music, the conversation flowing even more than it did before. you moved around the room, showing him the different instruments and equipment you had, with him asking more and more about your job.

you could feel his excitement as your nerves faded away. “since you’re here..” you began, clicking the mouse on your computer. “do you want to hear a demo i’ve been working on?”

his eyes lit up as he nodded. “absolutely.”

“i haven’t recorded the vocals for this so i have to do it live-“ you clicked through your files and finally found the one you were looking for. “-so please ignore how dogshit my voice sounds.”

“it’s probably not bad,” he chuckled. “let’s hear it.”

your voice filled the room and you focused on the music, the rhythm and the lyrics, not wanting to mess up.

meanwhile, jongho was trying his best to not to combust with joy. at first, he was confused, trying to figure out why you sounded so familiar. the melody, the lyrics, the sweetness of your voice - it all fell into place. you sounded exactly the same as his soulmate.

you were his soulmate all along. you were the one he’s been hearing since childhood. you were the beautiful voice that he’s been trying to find the identity of.

jongho immediately grabbed a nearby microphone and started to sing along to the demo with you.

you voices intertwined seamlessly, perfectly even - like they were meant to be.

you’re eyes widened at his voice. you knew it, really well. you finally found the owner of the honey-like voice you’ve been hearing - the guy at the bar that you’ve been friends with.

for a moment, the both of you got lost in the music, blending your voices together, creating something magical and intimate.

when the final notes of the demo faded, the room was filled with a silence. jongho set his microphone down, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for a reaction.

“you..” you trailed off, not knowing how to begin. “you’re my soulmate..?”

“i never thought that my soulmate was right next to me,” he said moving himself closer to you. “hearing your voice in person instead of my head is.. incredible.”

“wha- you’re incredible,” you breathed out. “have you heard your voice?”

he chuckled, feeling himself get flustered over the compliment. “it sounds better with you,” he said reaching for your hand.

the both of you stared into each other’s eyes, unable to look away. you could hear your heart pumping, and the only thing you could feel was his soft hand on yours.

“i can’t believe it’s you,” you said softly.

jongho nodded, knowing exactly how you feel. “it almost feels like a dream- i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. and now, it’s even more perfect than i imagined.”

he closed the gap between the two of you slowly, whispering a gentle, “may i?”.

you gave a soft ‘yes’ as he pulled you to him.

his lips brushed against yours, a feather-light touch that made your breath catch. the kiss was careful, as if he was savouring it. but soon enough, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate.

then, something happened. soft music started to play in the background, echoing the rhythm of your kiss. the music seemed to harmonise around you, matching the emotions the both of you were feeling.

when you finally pulled away, the both of you were breathless and slightly flushed, your foreheads touching. the music slowly faded and jongho’s eyes were filled with a loving gaze.

“that was.. amazing,” he said, his voice low.

you smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “mhm.”

jongho tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as he muttered, “i can’t wait to begin our love song.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3

AAA im done with this series! im so happy and sad at the same time cuz i love soulmate aus and making them but at the same time, this series has to end sometime 🙁 hopefully i come up with shit as creative as this in the future, but for now i wanna thank you guys for reading and supporting me! i truly appreciate all you that read this and it makes my day to see how much yall enjoy it! BLESS YALL

other fics

series taglist [OPEN] - @jiwoongsblondehair @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun @butterfliesinthesky @ismelllikechlorine247 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @forever-atiny @arki-sha @la-undercover-latina

[silvernight-m]

Chapter 1 :

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

● Steven Grant x GamerGirl!Reader ● Rating : E

➤ MasterList :

✦ Character AI Bot Based On This Chapter ✦

✦ Marc's Chapter : Coming Soon...

✦ Jake's Chapter : Coming Soon...

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

✦ Summary : You've got your hands on a new video game and been hyperfixating over it. Moonboys aren't taking it well at how they've been neglected.

✦ Tags : Established relationship and reader has moved in with them, Steven's POV, Sad puppy Steven, Marc mentioned and appears only at first (red sentences), Gaming, itty-bitty angst where Steven is a tiny bit smad and feels ignored, He calls reader love/dove/darling, Fluff, Smut

✦ Smut Warnings : SoftDom Steven, Oral Sex f!reader receiving, fingering f!reader receiving, p in v, overstimulation

✦ Word Count : 4,099

➻ Note : This was purely inspired by @melodygatesauthor headcanon on moon boys with a gamer partner.

➻ Note : Comments and Reblogs are appreciated ♡

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

Is she still playing?

Marc's voice brought him back from the trance he was in while watching the flurry of colorful lights coming from the living area in the darkness of the flat.

Steven sighed as he glanced back at the mirror beside bed, seeing Marc trying to peek through at you.

He hummed when he closed his book and turned his attention to Marc. He looked as tired as himself. Unruly curls, dark circles under his eyes and all from waiting for you.

But it's been three hours!

Steven let out another soft frustrated sigh, but this one was meant for Marc. At how he thought he couldn't count the hours that you haven't been in bed. Or the nights that you skipped sleeping till the late hours of dawn.

You still managed to spend time with them, though. With your work and life, you still managed to talk to them, be there for them, love them, and eat with them.

But Steven was getting worried. Marc was sensing it too that this videogame obsession was a bit, odd.

You have been compromising precious sleep time with them ever since you got this new game.

It's been 7 days–

8 days. It's been 8 days.

Steven bristled and side glared at Marc in the mirror. He knew it was past midnight now, so it technically made it 8 days that you were glued to your gaming controller and the tv screen after dinner with them.

He knew it better because he was the one missing you the most!

He thought maybe the first days would be like this. You, playing and enjoying your alone time with the characters you adored. It made his lips pull up into a smile at how you loved this video game. How your voice got high pitched with excitement as you explained some of the plot to him over dinners, without spoiling the game much, of course, in case he wanted to try and play it.

A chuckle even was on its way in his chest as he remembered the way you pouted at some inconvenient things the game developers had done that you thought you'd have done better for your favorite game and its story.

But he was missing you. Missing the time you usually spent in bed. Before sleep.

Sure, you still talked to him. Loved him and cuddled him on the couch or throughout the day after your jobs.

But here he was, his lips puckered out to the cold place beside him on his bed. The place where should have been warm with you and your body, snuggled close to him.

A small wince went through his body as he heard your loud grunt from losing again, probably.

She failed the quest again?

Steven draped his body across the bed, trying to watch your slumped shoulders as his cheek got hit by the cool blanket with his tilted glasses on his face. He nodded to Marc, his curls messing up more as his cheek rubbed against the sheets, his glasses’ hinge pressing into his temple.

But seeing your determined rise of body on the couch as you leaned back, the death grip you had on the controller…

He knew you wouldn't be coming to bed any time sooner.

With a deep breath, Steven decided to get up from the wrongly cool sheets, instinctively dodging the sand line, whereas the floor was long clean from it. Was clean ever since you moved in with him. With them.

He padded closer to you, passing the fish tank with a smile, trying to keep himself hopeful. You would surely return to bed in a short bit. He was sure of it.

But a small frown came over his brows as you didn't even acknowledge him being awake and standing only inches away from the couch and the tv you were glaring at.

“Love?” He didn't like the way you winced at his soft tone when your head whipped towards him.

“What– oh, Steven… I'm sorry! Did I wake you?” Steven glanced at the tv with a push up of his glasses, to the paused menu and returned his gaze back to you with a smile to answer you. “No. Not really.” He held up his book that he was reading earlier, indicating that he wasn't sulking at why you weren’t in bed with him. Because he wouldn't admit that he couldn't sleep without you and from how touch starved he was from having you around but not having you in his arms.

You gave him and his book a tight-lipped smile and turned to the screen again, un-pausing your game. Without noticing that he wanted you in bed and what his pointed look meant.

"S'alright love, I'll be sittin' here, makin' m'self comfortable while readin'." Steven's gaze never left you as he made his way and sat on his reading chair, a little upset that you didn't realize he was awake just because you were awake. Just because he wanted to have more time with you. Did you intentionally ignore what he meant, or were you just so into the game you didn't pick up his intention?

“Okay.” You mumbled absently.

A week. A whole week has been like this.

He was missing you. You were there, sure. Living and breathing near him. In front of the tv, your beautiful face illuminated by lights that danced out of the screen. But you weren't there while gaming!

You just became an entirely different person the moment your hands touched the controller. You were less responsive. Less aware. Less there!

He tried to explain it to Marc. Marc said it was the game you loved so much. The franchise you grew up with. Jake, on the other hand, was even more into letting you follow your slightly unhealthy passion.

But this much obsession was a bit concerning. He couldn't help the going off alarms in his brain. In his heart.

You seemed out of this world while gaming. Like you were in there with the characters.

It wasn't this bad at first. You would come to bed early. Make some comments about the game here and there snuggled up to his chest.

But as the week went on, and the story went on, so did your fixation on that game went on!

It was just your favorite game. Not like you would actually forget him, them, for a videogame, right?

But it was getting frustrating.

The soundtrack coming from the game... the one that indicated you were in danger or enemies were attacking... It was making him nervous!

He could swear that he heard it often times throughout this week that he felt it playing in his brain when he went on missions as Mr. Knight.

And the fact that you weren't touching him! Calming him! Your attention, not on him! Your loving gaze not meeting his eyes while playing!

"Love?" He sighed, his eyes glancing at the clock, which showed 2 AM now. Two in the morning, and you didn't even give him a side glance ever since he sat on the nearby chair.

He was missing the color of your eyes, the twinkle in them when they landed on his own eyes.

A horn went off in the game, and he lost it by yelling out your name. Steven slammed his glasses on the table in frustration at how oblivious you were to his existence while gaming even though you clearly flinched to your name being called. He wasn't even sure if it was because of the war horn, or his firm tone though.

"Steven, why don't you go to bed?!" You asked him, still engrossed in the game that was oh so much more important than him. It saddened him that you said his name only to just dismiss him. To shoo him away and continue playing.

Steven tried to contain himself. It was a game you loved so much, and he wasn't against you having your own hobbies.

But you giggled! You actually giggled at a scene playing on the tv, and it broke his heart. You hadn't giggled or laughed with him while he was sitting there all this time while he even playfully quipped about your gaming.

You didn't give him the shy giggling you usually gave him when he said, “Slaying monsters, love? You are indeed my nocturnal gaming queen.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself, but then he slammed the book shut with frustration. "Fine. It's not like I need affection or attention or love, or anything." He grumbled loudly while getting up. He was so angry with how you've been treating him tonight. Over what? Over a video game!

Not holding him. Not talking to him properly. Not giggling to him. He barely got to even look at your beautiful face while he was fronting tonight.

You were on better terms with Marc and Jake at nights. Probably fearing to upset them with not going to bed with them. But who cared if little Steven got upset, no?

No one cared while his heart broke little by little at how you didn't even hold him and cuddled him under the covers.

He fought the growing tightness in his chest that started to choke him near teary-eyed-ness as he stomped back to the bed. Not just from sadness, though. From frustration. From anger, maybe, too.

"Steven?" You sighed out his name, but he didn't even turn around. He was so mad that he couldn't bring himself to feel giddy once he heard the console beep into being turned off as he wrestled with the duvet and lay his head on the pillows.

Steven didn't let himself even feel happy once you walked closer to the bed. He was feeling guilty. Feeling bad at ruining your game because he was feeling neglected and insecure. Feeling guilty that even your breathing sounded sad as you stood by the bedside, him, being the cause of it.

His back was turned to you, and his eyes were glued to the window. But he could swear he felt you were fiddling with your fingers. He was so angry that he didn't want to look your way and give himself away at how guilty he also felt. But he kept himself in check, not turning to look at you just the way you weren’t looking at him the whole night. "Go back to your game. Don't bother," he barked, squeezing his eyes shut.

Steven tensed up when you got on the bed behind him. His muscles flinched when your arm came around him, and your face pressed into his spine, but eventually he relaxed after a while.

He tried so hard to ignore you.

But he failed. He missed you so much that having this little physical nearness ever since the last 5-ish hours made him turn into mush.

"Don't you have a game to finish?" He tried to sound annoyed. He really did try to get back that sharpness into his tone, but he just sounded like a hurt little kid.

He missed you when you paid attention to him. He missed having you all to him. He missed having you this close.

Gods, he even missed you breathing this much close to him!

Did all the anger and frustration go away when your arm tightened around him, your face gently rubbing into his back as you shook your head no with a soft sniffle?!

Yes, it all went away and made Steven's heart sink as he felt your body trembling against him. He knew, deep within him, that your obsession with the videogame probably had some deeper meaning than just it being your favorite game throughout your childhood. He had to talk to you about it, but he didn't know how to bring it up, and he never thought one day you wouldn't open up to him the way you usually did. And it hurt him even more. "Love, let me hold you..." He whispered quietly, his own throat closing with how he missed having you in his arms in bed.

He played off the sigh of relief with a soft grunt as he turned to face you when you pulled away enough to let him wrap his arms around you.

Steven's eyes were also wet from the tears he was holding back as he watched tears escape yours. "Look, dove, I know somethin's goin' on with you, and that's why you're playin' that game so much." He pulled you into a warm squeeze, "Can we please talk?"

He frowned at how you shook your head 'No' and buried your face in his chest just to hide away your teary cheeks. He let you have a moment in silence before speaking gently again, his hands soothingly rubbing your back. "No, we are goin' to talk about this. I promise, it's goin' to be fine, yeah?" His hand sneaked closer to his chest and held your chin to make you look up at his eyes that were wide with affection. "Let's start slow, yeah, dove?" He wiped the tears off your cheeks and cupped your beautiful face so tenderly. The corner of his lips lifted up on the way your walls melted down just from a sweet hold.

"I'm not good with words." You mumbled with a sniffle that could make him chuckle at how adorable you looked with those puffy lips and tired eyes if you weren’t crying.

"Now, now. Don't play Mahc Spectah for me." Steven chuckled as he wiped your last remnants of tears away when you chuckled at his playful accent, "We have enough brooding in this household." He gently tapped the tip of your nose with his forefinger. "But there will never be a day when we can't talk out our feelings. You and me." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, relishing in the smell of your hair. "I know you have somethin' you're struggling with now, but I can't help you if you don't let me in, love." He mumbled to your skin. "You don't need to find the right words with me. I'm here, and I only want you to let me in."

"Steven..." Your sob shattered his heart as he tried to soothe you, to calm you as he rubbed your back. It was breaking him at the guilt in your eyes. And that was enough for him to forgive you.

"Shhh. I'm right here, okay? Everything's going to be fine." He pulled you so close until your faces were very close and almost touching. "Don't talk. It's fine." He whispered, sharing your warm breath as his nose nuzzled into yours.

He had missed this closeness. He was okay to have you like this even if you took longer to open up. He just wanted you to be near him. To let him in, even if it was physical.

But then he did something that he knew would distract you from whatever that was hurting you or making you sad like this. "I wanna kiss you, love." Steven whispered onto your lips, his voice raspy and playful.

"Even after I was hyperfixating on gaming? Neglecting you?" The strain in your each word squeezed his heart, but Steven couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his lips as his chocolate brown eyes twinkled at you so lovingly with that slight tilt of his head. He couldn't hold his kisses anymore. The first peck started on your lips. He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead, your lips again, your nose, and then your neck again before pulling you in for a deep, passionate kiss even while you were giggling to his kissy assault. "I'll always love you, my dove. Nothing can make me want to kiss and love you any less. So please come back to me instead of goin' into this game every night. I miss you, darlin’.”

“Steven!” You scoffed a chuckle. “It's not like I never made time for you. I just come to bed a lil late.”

“It's 2:30 in the mornin’, love. How is that a bit late?” He held your chin in his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly trying to reason with you. “You have work in the mornin’. And honestly, I wonder how you've functioned throughout this week between staying up till 4 AM and everything else..”

Steven sighed with you as you pouted sweetly and accepted your defeat. “Fine. I am sorry that I'm staying up late and playing obsessively. But–”

“No buts, love.” He stopped you with a gentle press of his fingers to your mouth.

“But I have no time to play other than nights!” You mumbled into his fingers which tickled him and made him chuckle at how you were trying to negotiate with your pouty lips rubbing onto his hand.

“al’ight. We can work through that. What about we play in the evening?” The cute pinch of your brows in confusion made his heart flutter. “We?” You asked as you scooted closer on the bed to him which meant victory for him as your face lit up and his body tingled from the way your body got pressed to his, your legs now tangled with each other.

“Yes. We.” He confirmed with a nod, your soft cheek under his palm as he caressed it. “I believe it's time I finally see what's so interesting about this game that's keepin’ my girlfriend away from cuddlin’ me before sleep.”

Your little excited squeal made him laugh as you shouted. “Really?! You will play with me?! You're going to absolutely love it! I– YOU WILL LOVE IT! I know you will!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard and suddenly, stealing his breath.

Within seconds his heart was pounding loudly against his ribcage into your chest. The molten warmth of love spreading from his heart to his whole body through his veins as his hand found the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. He let out a shaky, whimper like breath through parted lips and into your mouth to how your body slotted against his in all the right places.

“I missed you…” Steven's voice came from the depth of his chest and went right through your core as his fingertips slipped under the waistband of your pajama shorts, caressing and teasing your skin, his other arm securely holding your chest pressed to his.

“I didn't even–” Your words of protest died in your throat at how he desperately squeezed you to himself, licking into your mouth just not to let you say anything more, swallowing your soft moan when you felt the hardness of his cock warmly settling between your thighs.

“I missed you, love...” Steven repeated again as your body shivered at how his fingertips firmly dug into the meat of your asscheek and made your hips grind into him. His mouth kissing the skin of your neck and throat. “So much…” He mumbled, trailing down kisses the length of your neck to your collarbone to gently nibble on. “So, so much…” His lips were hot and wet over the top swells of your breasts, his teeth occasionally nipping at them.

A soft groan left Steven's mouth over your cleavage as he didn't know which breast to free first to kiss and suck on, his hand gripping the neckline of your shirt and your bra in one desperate grip to yank them down. To finally be able to show his love to his favorite parts of your body.

“Steven, wait… Let me–” He knew you wanted to properly take off your pajamas, but he couldn’t wait anymore. He was too desperate to have you again. Missed you too much to even allow himself to pull away slightly even for you to take your clothes off. He didn't even remove his hand from your shorts as it brushed against your hip to travel from your ass to your front.

Your moans made him tremble with need when your head fell back onto the pillows. Your hips ground onto his palm, letting your cunt soak his hand just the way it soaked through your panties, making him whimper into your ear as his own hips was grinding onto your thigh and the back of his own hand inside your shorts.

“Steven!” You moaned his name when his fingers teased and rubbed your clit, sending sparks of pleasure up to your vision as he tested your wetness with his finger. “What's gotten into you?!” You barely had time to mumble between the deep kisses when he pulled away suddenly, his hands so fast to yank down your panties and shorts in one go when you squeaked in surprise.

“I just missed you!” Steven's voice was so deep and raspy that even he himself doubted if it was him talking and not Jake when he pulled off your top clothings as well.

“I just,” His chest heaved, his eyes glued to the dripping arousal between your folds as his tongue dragged along his lower lip like it could already taste you. Which got your core pulse for him and your thighs to press together.

“Oh, no no no, love,” Steven's hands were quick to hold your ankles, to firmly press them down to the mattress and spread you to his gaze. “Don't.” He warned firmly, his lips pressing a kiss to the side of your knee, distracting you enough till his hands deftly locked his ankle restraint to your foot. Your eyes widening when he tightened it.

“Steven, now you're just being silly!” You breathed out, still panting from everything that was happening and was going to happen. “It won't even hold– I know how to open it.”

“I know.” The calm undertone in his voice, the mischief glinting in his eyes and the quirk of his smirk over his kiss-swollen lips made you squirm and pull at the restraint unintentionally. “It's not for keepin’ your legs open for me. You're a good girl, love. You'd do that for me on your own, yeah?” He whispered, tugging at the restraint, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin again. “This is just a little reminder…” Steven drawled his words lazily, his cheek rubbing your knee, “For you to remember your place…” his hands traveling up your ankle and calf to your thigh, teasingly, lazily and slowly, stopping so close to where you were aching for his touch. “To where you actually belong. In bed. All spread out for me.”

“Steven…” Your whimper made him chuckle, his eyes boring into your pleading eyes before glancing at your cunt that was begging for his attention.

His cock was twitching needily in his sweatpants but he wouldn't give in this easily. He wouldn't let you forget how much he yearned for your attention tonight and you just kept playing.

And that's what Steven was going to do. He would play with you till you begged for him and screamed his name. Till your sweet whimpers and moans chased the jealousy for some pixels on the tv in his heart away.

Just like the way you spent time playing your videogame, he was going to be spending his time playing with you.

His head dipped between your thighs as his tongue played with your folds and licked them so wet and hot while he moaned to your taste. Steven moaned into your core just to make you moan louder to the vibration and clench around his tongue while he rubbed your clit with his fingers, his arm looped around your thigh.

It took all his willpower not to rut against the mattress where his hips pressed into, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as you came on his tongue, writhing, your trembling thighs squeezing his head deeper into you.

He didn't let you move an inch away from his mouth as he licked and kissed and tongued you over and over again even while your fingers gripped his curls firmly, crying out from release after release.

He was so intoxicated with your scent and taste on his nose and tongue that he had forgotten the ache in his own groin for a while when he let you pull his head finally away from your overstimulated and sensitive pussy.

Steven's eyes were full of love for you as he watched your closed eyes, while you tried to catch your breath. There was satisfaction written over his grinning lips as his head moved with the rhythm of your deep panting, his cheek pressed to your naval, his hands kneading and soothing your slightly trembling thighs.

“What round is it?” He panted into your skin as he trailed such tender kisses up to your breasts like he wasn't eating you out like a starved man a few seconds ago, his tongue shoved deep into your hole.

“Hm, huh?” Steven's chuckle came out as an amused breath at the dazed state of you, kissing and licking any inch of skin he found, smearing your release over you just the way his jaw and lips were coated in.

“What round are we in?” His smooches sounded nearer to you as his lips finally took your earlobe between them. “How many times have you come f’ me, love?”

You whine in response to him, your legs trembling again as his fingers trace a delicate caress over your puffy and sensitive clit. “Four? Five?” He cooed into your ear, earning a deep moan when he dragged the tips of his middle finger and ring finger around your entrance, easily going in and out of your slicked channel.

“Five!” You yelled, your breasts pressing up into his chest, your back arched to guide his fingers to that spot inside you that made you see the stars.

“And how many times did you restart that quest tonight?” Steven's grin widened over seeing your confused expression, your brows knotted in pleasure that was inches away from his fingertips. “Your beloved videogame.” He reminded you with a soft press of the heel of his palm over your clit. “How many times did you restart?”

“Shit! Steven!” You cried in frustration into his jawline, making his body tremble to the way your hot breath hit his ear and your walls clenched around his fingers.

“It was seven, love.” The sting of being ignored and watching you restart a quest for seven times surely was dulled in his heart in the meantime after watching you come undone for him five times. It got duller as you screamed his name again when released crashed over your body for the sixth time and wetted his hand and soaked his sweatpants where his thighs were pressed to your quaking form.

“That was…?” His fingers left you after he rode your high, arms quick to pull his cotton-y soft shirt off of himself. The shuffle and drag of fabric over his skin drew your half lidded gaze up his naked body, his smirk bordering on mischievous and adorable as he mouthed ‘sixth’ to your smiling face. “And that means,” Steven crawled on you again, that shit eating, love struck, grin nearing your face as his body settled over yours, his cock hot and hard pressing to the inside of your thigh and smearing his precum over your skin. “You get to come fo’ me one more time.” He mumbled onto your lips, his hands caressing your sides and arms, your body a complete wreck at his mercy one more time.

Your mouth fell open with a deep moan when his thick cock nudged your clit, both your breaths hitching in your throats as he licked into your mouth to let you whimper to the fading taste of yourself in his mouth. His hands were all over your body, caressing you with his sure and firm hands, his skin burning yours from where he was pressed all over you.

With a gentle nudge of his hips, his cock slid so smoothly into you that got you already writhing under him, your hands clawing his back desperately as he started to move in and out of you.

Steven buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting down on your flesh not to lose himself too quickly when his thrusts started to quicken.

Hips stuttering over yours, his hands gripping yours from his buttocks to slam them above your head with a deep moan when you came again. Your walls tightened around him to a point that he only could muffle his whimper in your neck, your thighs shaking around his as he released ropes of cum into you.

Steven stayed like that for a short while, panting and smelling you.

“Oh, love, are you a'right?” With a sudden move he released your hands, rising on his forearms to make sure you haven't crushed under him, his concerned gaze searching your blessed out face.

You huffed a chuckle, wrapping your freed arms around his neck to softly kiss his swollen lips so tenderly that he couldn't believe he was feeling it.

“I'm fine, Steven.” Your voice was a bit hoarse probably from moaning his name all the time which got him smiling so brightly with a nod.

He left a trail of kisses down your forehead and nose to your chin and neck before pulling away gently, not making more of a mess with your juices, settling in next to you.

“How was that, love? Better than that silly game of yours right?” Steven's tone was playfully proud, making sure that he wasn't actually insulting your favorite game. "I made you forget about it."

“Maybeeee…” You muttered as your eyes fluttered close, the last thing you felt were his arms wrapping around you and the soft chuckle in his chest. “Maybe?! Just maybe?!” He squeezed you to himself, gaining a mock annoyed groan that turned into giggling. “Fine! It was so so much better. And yes. You made me forget it.” You mumbled into his chest, getting a grin and a kiss to your forehead that you didn't catch when you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

─┉┈˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚┈┉─

Hope you enjoyed it!

[madebyrolo]

Pouge Princess

Rafe Cameron x reader

she/her

Rafe takes an interest in y/n as she’s working in her family’s food truck. Over the years Rafe has came just to see her but she doesn’t know that.

*not proof read or edited

Pt.2

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Y/n was a pouge, she lived on that side of the Island. She wasn’t exactly like how the stereotype describe them. though. She was in a somewhat happy family, kitchen table bills, well mannered and cared about her education. Her parents tried giving her the best they could and they tried to bring themself up and it was working.

Whenever they threw small party’s they would invite almost everyone, they loved their food and the family. Her family owned a small food truck in the figure 8 area. It was a drive but it was a smark marketing move they made. The tourists were a big part and the rich money hungry local families. They never really cooked or did any happy family matter thing. They had maids or butlers to do it and money to burn, so when it would come to their dinner or lunch they bought.

They made the best tacos in the whole island as a lot would say. They grew their own ingredients to make the sals, toppings, fruit. Her uncle working in a butcher shop who helped them buy fresh meat at a discounted price, an aunt who made their homemade juices/water and tortillas. Their whole family helped them with the business like saving up for the food truck and all working togther splitting profits.

Y/n worked some after school and weekend shifts. That was her way of getting her allowance of $30 a week. To a kook they would see that as cruel but for her that seemed reasonable. She saved and saved since she was 13 to buy an old 2000a Honda crv, her parents helped her obviously but she was able to pay for it 70% herself. It wasn’t the prettiest, it had some rust on the ends and it had about 107,349 miles on it but it was perfect for a starter car, and the gas was good. She got it when she was 15 and spent nights cruising and exploring the island with her friend John B, Jj, Pope and Kiara before John B got the Twinkie.

They met in elementary school but they finally formed as a group in junior high. When they hung out it was practically everyday. In school they would have lunch but then go straight to John’s bs house. Jj was the pothead of the group so when he got his money he spent not on weed, lighters, grinders and rolling paper. Sometimes he would ask y/n parents to pick up shifts for when he was running low on money. He wasn’t the smartest with money but “weed was his outlet” she tried not to scold him and let him be him. Pope was the straight A student, he was smarter than anyone she knew including herself. He was wise and had somewhat good judgment. Kiara the born kook yet chose the pouge life, she had a fiery personalit, and was a environmentalist. She was a nice sweet soul although doesn’t make the best decisions. And John b, the group leader. He was wise in his way, street smart and a strong independent. He had some walls up but he was nicest one out of all of them.

Y/n had her little shifts at the food truck weekend mornings and sometimes after school when it was in session. In the summer she would work longer hours due to the higher population and popularity due to the tourist. She didn’t mind, she made good money especially with tips. The older look men would leave $5 minimum and as well the boys around her age. The tourist $5 max because one it’s good food and two she was y/n. It was no lie y/n was pretty, the pouges, kooks and tourist knew it, she did too. She wasnt too cocky but if she knew she could get a bigger tip she would do it. It was sad to see some of the dude actually take it seriously but a hustle a hustle. She had her fans, Topper and Rafe being some of them. Topper loved the food and Rafe loved the view.

Since it was summer time y/n would work in a bathroom suit top and denim shorts, sometimes with a shirt but working in the small metal truck with a girl on 24/7 with the outer banks heat made it hot quick. Sure they had fans but they only did so much. Today was Saturday around 12:30pm, it was the busy and hottest time of day. Luckily Jj picked up a shift today helping her with the grill. They’ve made at least 3pounds of meat already and it hasn’t even hit dinner time. As a duo they make great tips. They older adult thinks he the one actually seasoning and stripping the meat even though it was pre marinated the night before which gives it the taste people like. The younger girls thinking he’s a hot blond boy wearing nothing but a white fitted tank top with his chain dangling when he would reach down giving them their food, tipping way more money then their parents gave them.

It hit 2:00 it was slowly dying down. They were able to turn off 1 grill out of the 3 and able to chill out. They were finally able to talk one on one and kept telling small things they noticed customers do like one kid studdering when they saw jj and an old lady struggling to count out her and the sweetest kid helping. They’re favorite is when the mom yelled at a poor girl for tipping $10 but not cause jj was hot just because she didn’t understand money. They were giggling away when their 2 “favorite” customers showed up.

“Welcome to Sunburn Siesta, what can I get you” y/n asked as she grab her notepad.

“Can I get a 5 carne asada tacos and a watermelon aqua fresca please” Topper said in the most adorable English accent making y/n smile a bit.

“Lemme get 5 shrimp tacos and a coke” Rafe said grabbing his black card out his wallet while staring at the boy at the grill. She takes the card swiping it and handing it back.

“It’ll be out in 5 minutes I’ll call your names.” Y/n tells them. As jj is cooking the meats, y/n heats up the tortillas and prepares the plates. She sets the drinks on the counter letting them know they can grab them.

They boys are good tippers and as much as jj wants to spit in their food he makes sure to make it to perfection. After a couple minutes the plates are ready and she calls their name.

“Topper and Rafe your order is ready!” She shouts placing it on the counter. Topper gets up from the picnic table early excited for his tacos.

“Oh my god y/n these smell and look absolutely delicious.” Topper complimented

“Thank you and enjoy topper” she gave him a genuine smile. Even though the pouges hate him he was by far her favorite costumer. He came for the food and the food only. He never once did a mean thing to y/n, he loves her family cause of the damn tacos.

They sat eating for 30 minutes and every so often y/n would catch Rafes looking at her. She continued taking and making orders switching with Jj so he’s not stuck behind the grill trying to ignoring the daggers she felt from the boy. After an hour they finally got up and Rafe got up to put their tip in the jar. He got at the counter and jj was on the register.

“Rafe what would you like” he said trying to be a good worker.

“Can I get y/n.” He asked sternly.

Y/n heard and came from the grill

“Yes rafe what would you like” she asked

“I just have your tip” he said with a small grin that looked actually meaningful.

“Yea put in the jar” she smiled knowing he’s always done that.

“No this is your tip.” He said getting closer to the girl. Y/n bent down grabbing it with her cleavage obviously being the only thing in Rafe eye sight. She grabs it and noticed it was a $50 bill and her eye lite up.

“Oh Rafe that’s too much..” she said softly to him. He was flustered just from what he saw. He may be the towns playboy but it sure as hell got him nervous knowing they were y/ns.

“Uh yeah no it’s right. You deserve it” he said with cheek a red making embarrassed eye contact.

“Oh Rafe thank you. This is so sweet! Here have a fruit cup for free” she said going over grabbing one of their home grown fruit.

“Thanks y/n” he said with a smile still blushing.

Topper soon comes up putting cash in the tip jar “there you go jj” he said with a playful smirk.

“$6 you really shouldn’t have” he said sarcastically with a hand over his heart.

“The $5 is for y/n, you can take the dollar.” He told him and walked away both rolling their eyes.

“I should get going. Thanks for the food it was great.” Rafe turned to y/n after the other boys interaction.

“Yea, start giving you discounts for now on Cameron.” She waved bye and he started walking away. “You’re my new favorite customer!” She yelled at him from afar.

He turned around and gave her a big wave smiling to himself. Oh boy he was in love.

Y/n fully unrolled the bill about to put it in her purse until she saw a small piece of paper fall out. She pick it up and saw it has writing

“𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 *********

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦

𝘛𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 :)

-𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦”

Y/n put in in her purse smiling and blushing. She stood there thinking about how she was just asked out in a date by the most wanted boy on the side of the island. As a pouge too. Jj snapped her out of thought as she got ready to prepared food for the customers. She was finishing her shift in a happy smiling mood. Jj noticed and didn’t ask but if he did y/n obviously wouldn’t have told him who knows what would happen if he found out she was friends with the enemies.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

pt.2 with the date ?

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 9)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 (Not Required)

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

When Nanami accidentally rolls onto you in your sleep...

Word Count: 1.1k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, reader wears a nightgown, Nanami is worried, very slightly suggestive.

A/n: This started as Nanami bringing you flowers and ended up as whatever this is?... (I'll do that next volume instead!)

Nanami sat at the dining room table, staring down at the few hours worth of paperwork before him. As per usual he was already burnt out from his work at the office, but of course it didn’t stop there. One of the joys of getting married was making quite a few large purchases, especially since the two of you didn’t live together beforehand. It had you very grateful he already had a car in good condition, as to not add another thing to the list. 

Unfortunately for Nanami, this wasn’t the kind of work he could get done with prior to coming home to you. Instead, he had to piece every budgeting document and report from various companies at home, and you had offered to join him in doing so. It went a lot faster thanks to your help, but seeing you all tired was not something he wanted to come from such menial tasks in his opinion. But the work was almost done, and most of the documents would finalize the purchases and regular payments that the two of you would need to make.

You were well accustomed to handling the household finances, keeping track of how much you spent each week at the grocery store, and trying to cut back on costs through growing vegetables and eating at home as much as possible. The two of you tried to run everything by each other whenever something was purchased, so your insight was very much appreciated by him. 

In between your yawns, Nanami let out a soft chuckle as he flipped through some pages and sat them to the side. After a few hours of jotting down figures, it was quite satisfying to watch them get slid into an envelope, placed into a box, and sealed away to not be touched for (hopefully) the next decade at least, assuming everything was done correctly.

You laid your head gently down onto the table, as Nanami moved his hand to cup your cheek and act as a pillow. Dinner was already cooking in the oven, a simple one-pan dish of vegetables and protein to be paired with fresh fruit you had purchased from the market earlier that day and ice cream as dessert. The scent flowed throughout the house, making you especially hungry, but it mostly lulled you closer to sleep.

Watching his cute little wife so tired and sweet, Nanami wouldn’t have been able to stop a smile from overcoming his face if he tried. In fact it was another thing that he loved about you, how despite being ready sleep in until noon the next day, you still got up and served the two of you dinner, making sure that everything was in place to make the next day go as smoothly as possible. 

The dishes were washed and set out to dry, and both of you changed into your clothes for the night. A pair of simple pajama pants and a loose fitting shirt for Nanami, and a cream colored nightgown for you. After brushing your teeth, you slid into bed with your husband following behind. 

If you weren’t so tired, Nanami would have acted on his urge to smother you with kisses. Instead he settled for just one, right on the lips held there for a couple seconds. To that you protested, “Kento I’m not that tired, you don’t have to go to sleep-,” but he cut you off. “I’m serious you need rest, goodnight my love,” he slipped under the covers, gently spooning you close as you drifted off to sleep. 

However, those urges didn’t seem to subside. Though usually still throughout the night, acting as a cage as you squirmed around, while deep into his own dreams he managed to turn onto his stomach… with you underneath him. Absolutely smooshed into your pillow, you woke up quickly and turned your head to the side to keep your ability to breath well. 

Your husband was large, that you knew, but for that to become a problem was quite rare when it was usually appreciated. It was that and the fact that he was gripping you so tightly, arms crossed over your torso like you would to a stuffed animal, an inescapable hold that still wasn’t yet uncomfortable. You thought about waking Nanami up for a bit, trying to wriggle out of his arms or push him off of you. Breathing wasn’t a problem and you didn’t exactly mind the closeness, though he was a bit heavy… so it took a good half hour for you to finally build up the will to ask him as you started to overheat. 

Ignoring your lack of sleep, by that time you were giggling at the look on his face when he finally woke up and moved. Nanami sat up on the bed, a slight flush to his cheeks and his lips had curled into a frown. “My love, don’t feel bad to wake me up,” he stated sternly, checking to make sure you were okay in a slightly frantic manner. “I’m sorry, Kento, but I’m okay, I promise,” you reasoned with him, to which he shook his head. “Either way I apologize, I’ll try to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” you snuggled back into the blankets, pulling Nanami by the hand so he laid down as well. 

“Are you sure you don’t want water or something? It must have been uncomfortable,” Nanami tried to get up to go grab some, but you remained clinging onto his arm. “I’m okay, it wasn’t bad,” you yawned with a smile, “In fact… I rather liked being so close.” In all your nights of sleeping in the same bed together, now nearing your fourth month of doing so, you never had encountered him doing such a thing. Something to note about what happens when you, his wife, the love of his life, looks a bit too irresistible and he cannot indulge as usual. 

Nanami hummed, letting out a yawn himself. He turned you around to face him, as you closed your eyes. “Like this?” he asked, admiring your face that was tucked into his chest. He breathing slowed down, worry leaving his mind as he relaxed with you. “It’s perfect,” you smiled, “Goodnight, darling.”

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 8

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

A/N: this is not the last part I promise

Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive

        "Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it. 

        "You were in charge of it." You pointed out.

        "Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."

        "Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."       

        "Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.

        "I was distracted." You defended.

        "With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.

        "Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.

        It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.

        On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'

        "Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.

        "C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."

----

        It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.

        "Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him. 

        "Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.

        So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection.  Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.

        There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water. 

        While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.

        "All yours." You told him.

        "Nah." He shrugged.

        "Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.

        "Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.

        "And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.

        You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.

        "It's not even dark yet." You commented.

        "Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.

        "Guess so." You agreed.

        "Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.

        "And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass. 

        "'S that what ya call it?"

        "Yup. What else would it be?"

        "Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.

        "Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."

        He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.

        "What game?"

        "Twenty questions."

        "Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."

        "Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"

        "They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"

        "I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"

        "Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"

        "Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"

        That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.

        "Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

        You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.

        "No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."

        Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.

        "Your turn." You reminded him.

        "Oh. Are you?"

        "Am I..?"

        "Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.

        "No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me,  but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.

        "Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.

        "Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.

        "Who's the guy?" He asked.

        "Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby. 

        "Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.

        Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?

        "You okay?" He asked.

        "Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--

        "(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts. 

        "Hmm?"

        "You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.

        "Yeah?"

        "It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?" 

        He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.

        "You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.

        "Right." He nodded.

        Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.

        "I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.

        You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.

        You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.

        "Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?

        "Sorry, I--"

        "Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked. 

        When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.

        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

        His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more. 

        He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.

        Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.

A/N: next part will be spicy ;)

Masterlist || Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader

((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))

[bemusedlybespectacled]

Question: I enjoyed s1 OF OFMD, but for various reasons I never actually got around to watching s2 (pick up most of the plot from tumblr tho). What exactly went wrong in s2 that got so many people upset?

Oh, boy. Very long rant incoming.

So, for context, S2 had a significantly smaller budget, which necessitated moving the filming location to union-unfriendly New Zealand, reducing the number of actors/number of appearances of established actors, and cutting down the number of episodes from 10 to 8. In a show where each episode is only about half an hour long, that last one alone was enough to seriously hamper any character development or plot. I am very comfortable putting the vast majority of the blame on HBO because of these financial decisions.

The short version is that Jenkins et. al. needed to address and build on the problems left hanging in S1 while also getting the characters to the end of their character trajectories in case there was no S3 while also leaving room for additional episodes in case there was a S3, in a grand total of four hours, and failed.

The long version is that there were a bunch of what I'd consider small problems in isolation that came together and exploded in the S2 finale.

The reduced cast necessitated breaking up the crew (ex: having Swede marry Jackie and stay on land with her, so they don't need to pay Nat Faxon for all eight episodes) and not spending as much time on their relationships as S1 did.

The reduced time meant that the entire season was rushed (in contrast to S1, which takes place over at least several weeks if not months, most of S2 takes place in roughly five days), leading both to a lot of telling rather than showing (because they don't have time to show you), including vital character and relationship development.

This includes:

Having the Kraken half of the crew beat Ed to death after months of being abused by him – abuse that is clearly shown to have given them PTSD and a well-justified fear and hatred of him – only for them to be okay with him two in-universe days later;

On that note, having Stede dismiss the crew's concerns about Ed because he loves him and also we only have three more episodes left to fit in everything so we need to get over it really fast, even though Stede is supposed to be well-meaning and caring (even if he's not good at it all the time);

Resolving the issue of Stede abandoning Ed in one day, then having them "go slowly" in their relationship for two days and then have some spur-of-the-moment sex, and then the next afternoon have them break up over their diverging career aspirations, and then the day after that resolve that problem and retire on land while the rest of the crew sails off into the sunset;

Stede becoming a fantastic pirate captain over the course of one day, becoming wildly popular in the piracy world two days later, and then deciding the day after that to never be a captain again because he is retiring with Ed;

Having Ed and Stede decide to retire together as what is implied to be the end point of their relationship arc, when none of Stede's issues from S1, like his poor self-esteem, have been so much as mentioned by anyone, implying that he's either magically gotten over them or they don't matter all that much, actually, even though they were the catalyst for basically everything he did in S1;

Ed having two separate character crises – "I am an unlovable person" and "I want to do something with my life other than piracy" – not spending a lot of time on either one, having moments that clearly indicate he is still working on both problems and they have not been resolved, and then apparently having them both be resolved in the final episode despite nothing occurring to actually make that happen, and in regards to the latter, despite the story actively undermining it by repeatedly showing he can't do anything other than piracy;

Related to the above, Ed ending the series as allegedly being loved by the crew as a family (thus solving Crisis #1) despite this never actually being shown, demonstrated, or even fucking alluded to onscreen. If anything, it shows the exact opposite.

This last point is especially galling to me because of what is probably the most divisive issue in the fandom right now: killing off Izzy Hands after giving him seven episodes of character development.

The show begins with the Kraken crew clearly trying to use the skills they learned as part of Stede's crew to cope with their incredibly shitty situation and care for each other, which includes Izzy. Izzy, on his end, tries to protect the crew and speak up for them, which results in him being repeatedly hurt (both implicitly, as Ed at one point says "that's another toe" in response to Izzy advocating for the crew and we later see he's missing more than one toe already, and explicitly, as Ed shoots him in the fucking leg in front of the crew when he stands up for them).

This camaraderie is shown again and again and again. Frenchie, Jim, and Archie take care of Izzy while his leg is infected, at risk to their own lives. Izzy's misery over losing his leg is what unites the PTSD-ridden Kraken crew and the well-meaning-but-ignorant-of-PTSD marooned crew, who are initially at odds, to make him a new prosthetic leg. Izzy gives Lucius advice about forgiving Ed. Izzy is introduced to drag and opens up enough to sing at a crew party, and the whole crew is having fun together while Ed and Stede are in their cabin having sex for the first time. Izzy gives Stede pirate captain lessons and bonds with him when Ed leaves him. Izzy provokes the season's villain into focusing on him and then gives a big speech about how piracy is about belonging to something, giving the rest of the crew time to try to escape.

Recall that Season 1 had some pretty well-established universe rules, one of which was that it runs on Muppet physics/magical realism. People can jump off yardarms, hit the side on the way down, and be perfectly fine. People can get stabbed in the liver and it's totally okay because it's probably not that important, and even can stay pinned to a mast all night that way with only mild discomfort. Buttons can talk to birds and see long distances without a spyglass and put hexes on people. Good people can be hurt (Stede is stabbed repeatedly), bad people can die (the Badmintons, Geraldo), but no one we care about is ever killed.

This is repeated in Season 2: Ed is beaten into a coma with a cannonball and wakes up like Sleeping Beauty after a spirit journey, with no injuries to his face or body. Buttons turns into a seagull after spending an episode doing a magic ritual and is never seen again (because they couldn't keep paying Ewen Bremner due to the budget cuts). Jackie microdoses her husbands with poison to build up their immunity, so that she can later pull a Dread Pirate Westley and poison the British with shared drinks.

So: in the finale, the villain of the season is taken hostage by the pirates (for reasons? unclear how that fits in the plan), happens to have a gun on him (no one checked??), shoots Izzy on the right side and then leaves with no repercussions. The entire crew stands around silently doing nothing while Ed cries over Izzy and tells him that he's his only family.

And Izzy fucking Hands, the guy who just spent eight episodes bonding with and protecting everyone, uses his last words to reassure Ed that him becoming Blackbeard/the Kraken was Izzy's fault and that the crew is Ed's family and they all love him. No one else says anything to Izzy or tries to comfort him or help him in any way.

I repeat: in a show predicated on the idea that bullies and bigots die stupid deaths while queer people and POC are basically magic, a show that was praised for being kind to queer people by not making them worry about their faves suffering or dying, a show founded on the strength of the relationships between the characters, the guy who went through a season-long arc of learning to embrace his pirate found family and his own queerness is shot for stupid reasons on the side we're told isn't important and dies while everyone just stands there. His last words are about the whole crew loving Ed when the only person that the whole crew has loved all season is him.

Anyway, never mind all that, let's cut to Lucius and Pete getting married and Stede and Ed retiring!

Complicating all this is that people who liked Izzy (or even said anything insufficiently mean about Izzy) were harassed for months in between seasons with insults, slurs, and actual fucking death threats. Izzy's growth was kind of a vindication for liking him: it meant that, despite all the harassment, we were right to like him and care about him as a character. Even people who didn't like him initially started to like him during Season 2.

And then he dies, and now there's a bunch of people saying that Izzy fans are big whiny babies who can't handle fictional death, and actually his death was so meaningful and beautiful and the only logical end to his arc, and it can't be bad writing because people die in real life all the time, and also he admitted he fed Ed's darkness so actually he was a terrible person all along anyway and they were right to hate him (and his fans)!

So, yeah, there are a lot of reasons why it's so hated, and I'm probably only addressing the problems of the pro-Izzy people (from what I can tell, BlackBonnet shippers who don't like Izzy think Ed and Stede's relationship is fine and dandy, but I'm sure that there are other criticisms they have that I have not addressed). I'm not even addressing the issues with Jim and Oluwande's relationship this season (and whooo boy are there issues).

It wasn't a universally bad season. There were episodes I really loved and still do. But the finale was a train wreck, and because it was a train wreck, a lot of people are looking back at what happened before the wreck and realizing that, oh, the train lost its brakes and steering because of the budget cuts and the engineers kept throwing fuel in the engine to make it go faster, and huh, now that I think of it, that part earlier in the trip was really wobbly but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because I was sure the engineers had everything covered.

[wileys-russo]

Currently thinking about what a face time with alessia would be like whilst she’s in Australia and the readers at home because of work. Full of fluff and them just happy they get to talk to each other after a hard day, saying how much they miss each other

last bit of writing from me for a few days while i'm off on holiday! might post a couple blurbs if i have time maybe

time zones II a.russo

it was a warm evening on the east coast of australia and alessia was almost in disbelief it was winter in the foreign country. nearly all of the girls had been happily wearing shorts and tops each day at training, some of them even daring for a late afternoon swim.

alessia though was not that brave and had instead settled herself on the beach, bare legs spread out on a towel and top half kit out in one of your hoodies as she glanced up to watch her friends all race off toward the water, the early evening sun just beginning to dip beneath the horizon.

tucking an airpod into her ear alessia clicked dial on the facetime icon by your contact. the time in australia nearing 5:30pm would make it almost 8:30 in the morning for you back in England, as you'd sadly been unable to accompany alessias family to the tournament due to work.

you were a primary school teacher and alessia more than understood the commitment that meant, your passion and drive for teaching the next generation one of the many reasons she'd fallen so in love with you in the first place.

she had always loved kids, and seeing you speak so dearly about your students and how you interacted with them had meant she'd spent many an hour dreaming about what you would be like if the two of you one day had your own children, something that had never really crossed her mind before meeting you.

it was now saturday which meant you were finally able to speak with alessia freely, not needing to cut anything short to rush off to work. your routine so far while she was away had been the two of you speaking while you got up and ready and then during your drive to school before you'd have to then hang up.

due to time zones it was hard for alessia to stay up to call you once you'd finished which you assured you'd rather she not do anyway, wanting her to be as well rested and ready for the matches as she could be.

so mornings for you and afternoons for her were the perfect time for the two of you to call and catch one another up on what had been missed.

"good evening my love." you accepted the call and sung out happily, alessias smile widening seeing you were in one of her hoodies, and you were quick to make a joke that the two of you had the same thought considering she was currently wearing yours.

"good morning gorgeous, you look lovely." alessia complimented, tucking her knees up to her chest and moving her phone to rest against her water bottle, angling the camera upwards toward herself.

"mm yes with my bed hair, pyjama shorts and puffy eyes i clearly missed my calling as a model." you teased, moving your own phone to lean against the wall as you began to prep yourself breakfast.

"well you're glowing. australia looks good on you baby and so does happiness." you commented back with a soft smile, alessias heart melting at your words and wishing for nothing more than to just wrap you up in her arms and never have to let go.

"did you have a nice day? you had it off from training right?" you questioned, a slight sizzle heard as you tossed some diced bacon and peppers into a pan, intending to make yourself an omelette.

"we did! we went into town and to some local markets, then got some breakfast at a really cute cafe and just explored a little, it's so beautiful here. the coffee is something else! i think i'll need to smuggle some back with me." alessia grinned, indeed having somehow even fallen more in love with the caffeinated beverage since landing.

"some of the girls went whale watching but tooney made me stay back because she gets sea sick." alessia rolled her eyes, having felt immense fomo seeing all of the photos and videos from the outing.

"captain tooney gets sea sick?" you laughed, alessia forever ripping into her best friend for the horrendous time they'd all had when ella decided to drive them all round in a boat last summer on one of their days off.

"apparently so, and then instead she dragged me round shopping with roebuck and g for hours!" alessia moaned, her arms still sore from an afternoon spent helping them haul around their bags.

"that girls gonna need a second house just to store all her trainers!" you joked with a shake of your head, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as alessia watched you cook.

the familiar domestic scene just made the heart ache that she wasn't with you right now worsen.

the two of you would always cook together and it was often the highlight of your days after grueling training on her end, or wrangling restless nine year olds for you.

since the two of you had started seeing one another this was the longest you would be separated and though it caused the two of you to be given endless grief from your friends you really were normally attached at the hip.

as a pair you were well known for forever making a one person job into a two person task. whether it be something as simple as alessia sitting on top of the washing machine keeping you company as you folded laundry or the numerous occasions you'd sit in the bathroom whilst alessia showered after training, the two of you chatting one anothers ears off about your days.

when you'd have to lesson plan for the week the blonde would always ensure at least one part of her body was touching yours at all times, if that was her head resting on your thigh, your back tucked securely into her front, or your legs draped in her lap as she traced absent minded shapes along the warm skin.

one time ella even swears she saw the two of you holding hands under the stall door while using the restroom, though both you and alessia knew she'd only spread that rumor to wind less up.

but thats not to say the two of you hadn't done other things in bathroom stalls together, never unable to keep your hands off one another for very long, especially when alcohol was involved on nights out.

"i miss you." alessia sighed, resting her chin on her fist as you looked up to meet the sad smile flashed your way, returning one of your own. "i miss you too." you agreed quietly, though as much as it was killing the two of you to be apart you would never ever do anything to hold her back from her career, nor would alessia with you, so sometimes sacrifices like this had to be made.

"i miss you more." alessia challenged perking up a little, playful glint returning to her eyes as you flipped the omelette, taking a bow at your girlfriends cheers. "i miss you most." you cheekily stuck your tongue out and disappeared out of frame to grab something from the fridge.

"i miss you more than the most." alessia countered before calling out for you to hurry up and return on screen. "you're so needy." you teased as the blonde rolled her eyes playfully, both of you well aware you were just as needy as each another.

"also you can't miss something more than the most, so therefore i win." you shrugged, returning to alessias sight as you turned the heat off the stove, moving the omelette over to a plate.

"says who!" alessia challenged, picking her phone back up as her legs began to cramp, standing to her feet and wandering off toward the water. "says the english language, and me." you sat down at the dining table, moving the phone so you were still in frame.

"well you're both wrong." alessia argued with a smile, eyes glancing off with a chuckle as she watched lucy absolutely body ella down and into the water after she splashed her.

"baby i literally teach english for a living, i can't be wrong!" you laughed after swallowing your mouthful of food. "look!" alessia flipped the camera around, showing the dazzling sunset as you squealed happily, alessia well aware how much you adored this time of day.

"take a photo of that for me please." you instructed as alessia promised she would. "it's almost as beautiful as you are." alessia quipped smoothly, grinning lovingly at the blush that spread across your face at the words. "charmer." you shook your head, smile tugging at your lips.

"oh god even on the other side of the world i can't escape youse two and your disgusting lovesick pining!" ella gagged as she appeared beside alessia, you glancing up and bursting out in laughter at the hot pink goggles on your friends face.

"what!" ella frowned, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as you simply continued to laugh, clearly at her expense. "nice goggles you idiot." you managed to choke out, as the girl basically spent more time at yours and alessias flat than her own the two of you had formed quite the close bond.

"gotta protect the lashes, obviously!" the brunettes frown quickly disappeared as she wiggled her eyebrows goofily. "oh! did less tell you what happened last night?" tooney grinned as your girlfriends eyes widened and she tried to move away but ella snatched her phone, sprinting off away from her.

"we decided to go for a swim in the dark after we went in the spa-" ella started, pausing as she dodged alessia who caught up to her and ran off now in the other direction as the blonde yelled threats after her.

"-cause theres like lights on the beach and stuff and we only just dunked our bodies in and bolted-" a yell was heard and the screen went black for a moment before ellas head popped into frame again, you spotting your girlfriend over her shoulder still avidly chasing after her.

"-and we were running across the road to get back to the hotel and less of course tripped over and her slider went all the way up her leg-" ella continued with a loud laugh before a body hurtled into her, a flash of blonde tackling her to the ground.

"-and she couldn't get her slider off her leg and we had to cut it off!" alessias face now back on the screen you could hear ella dying from laughter on the ground beneath her, your girlfriend hitting her with a loud smack as ella cried out.

"less don't hit her!" you chastised, alessia ignoring you as she grappled with ella with her free hand, the two of them pushing and smacking one another around, their childish behavior nothing new to you.

"girls!" you called out again, firmer this time as alessia glanced to you, ella pushing her off and sitting up beside her inside. "ooo teacher voice!" the younger of the two called out teasingly, alessia joining in with a grin as you rolled your eyes at their sudden change of antics.

"it is not!" you protested with a pout before you heard the rest of the girls call out for the two as they were headed back to the hotel, ella wishing you goodbye before running off to join them.

"i'll call you back after dinner and we can watch a movie?" alessia asked hopefully as she gathered her things into her bag and began to walk off the beach. "it's a date. i love you!" you smiled softly.

"i love you, the most."

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [8] - Begonias

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Impatience can be dangerous. 

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms.

Word Count: 4200

Series Masterlist

The following week after that conversation at the rooftop was actual torment for you.

You had tried everything to divert your attention elsewhere, but for the first time in your life, nothing seemed to work. Even while tending to your garden, that night refused to leave your mind, as if your mind had sworn to make you remember it over and over again.

If your sister were here she would’ve said you were heartbroken, but even the thought was absurd.

You weren’t the type of person who got heartbroken.

Even if you were -which you weren’t- one simple glance at Lady Whistledown’s lines throughout the week would be enough to snap you out of it. You had managed to avoid balls, pretending you were still in a delicate condition after the heat exhaustion incident, but Benedict on the other hand had been quite busy as far as you could tell. Day after day, Lady Whistledown wrote how he only stayed at the balls he attended for less than an hour and spent the rest of the nights somewhere else, returning home only around dawn, looking quite disheveled. It had to have been bad because the latest Whistledown issue had mentioned his brother Anthony pulling him aside just when he was about to leave the last ball for a short argument which he had walked away from.

Anyway. It wasn’t like you were interested in his whereabouts.

“My lady, are you sure…?” the cook trailed off while Teddy giggled happily, sitting on the counter and covered in flour from head to toe, and you winked at him before turning to the cook.

“You have no reason to worry Mrs. Booth,” you said. “We will not burn the house down.”

Mrs. Booth did not look relieved at all, but she chose not to comment on it and instead walked over to the other side of the kitchen to check on the soup for tonight’s dinner. You turned to Teddy and put your hands on your hips, sticking your nose up in the air.

“Now,” you said. “Are you ready for this incredibly important task?”

“I am!” Teddy said, dangling his legs off the counter, excitement almost radiating off of him. You tilted your head.

“Are you sure? It’s quite the responsibility, you know.”

“Yes!” he said, jumping in his spot and you pointed at the other side of the counter.

“Over there,” you said. “We have our cookie dough. And of course we must have a theme for our cookies, it goes without saying.”

“Of course!”

“You are to decide what our theme will be and help me shape them.”

Teddy had such a concentrated look on his face that one simple observer would think he was to decide the fate of the country and you repressed a laugh, waiting for him to decide. He held his breath as the idea hit him, his whole face lighting up.

“A garden!” he said. “With people in it!”

You gasped. “That’s such a perfect idea Teddy!”

“And—and—” he said, flailing his arms. “We will have trees and flowers and people—you can shape the flowers and I can shape the trees and people!”

“That sounds like a good deal,” you said as you grabbed the cookie dough and gave him the half of it before you took a small amount of it out of your half, and started making a small flower. Teddy was humming a song to himself, his tongue sticking out, his whole concentration on the stick figure he was making from the cookie dough and you leaned over to press a kiss into his hair, making him let out a whine.

“Y/N I love you too but I’m working!” he said in a serious manner and you let out a laugh, then held up your hands, gesturing surrender.

“Alright, alright. Sorry.”

“You can kiss me afterwards, not now though. This is very important.”

“Got it,” you said, still smiling as you got back to making flowers from the cookie dough and he stole a look at you, then shifted in his spot.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What does propose mean?”

Your head shot up from the dough. “Hm?”

“I heard auntie and uncle talking about a lord wanting to propose to you.”

You cleared your throat and put aside the flower to start on another one.

“Propose means someone asks someone to marry them.”

Teddy held his breath, shaking his head fervently. “But you’re not going to marry someone are you?” he asked. “You can’t!”

You pulled your brows together. “Why not?”

“Because then you’d leave!” Teddy said, tears already rushing to his eyes and you heaved a sigh, then wrapped your arms around him to pull him into a hug.

“I’d never leave you,” you said, placing a kiss on top of his head. “I promise. Even if I married someone, which I will not anytime soon.”

“But people leave when they marry.”

You frowned, pulling back to look at him better. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” he mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. “But Josie isn’t here and she’s married. You always say she is our sister but I don’t even remember her.”

You could swear your chest was hurting but you managed to smile at him.

“Teddy, Josie isn’t here because she had to leave,” you said with a sigh. “One day I will tell you why, alright? But for now, the only thing you need to know is that she loves you and misses you so much. I read you her letters, she always asks about you, remember?”

Teddy nodded, still pouting.

“But you won’t marry anyone?”

“Not anytime soon,” you said. “And regardless of whether I get married or not, I will never leave you. I swear to you.”

He lifted his head and gave you a big smile, then hugged you tight and pulled back.

“Do you think this cookie man looks nice?” he asked, holding up the cookie and you smiled, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “It looks perfect.”

                                               *

One of the many bad things about being a debutante was that there were only so many balls you could avoid. Seeing that you would have to attend one eventually, you figured you could do it tonight and get it over with.

Besides, according to Lady Whistledown Benedict barely spent any time at the balls nowadays so you were going to be just fine.

“So how did Lord Shaw take it?” you asked your aunt as you stepped out of the carriage when it stopped by the garden, the music of the ballroom reaching there already. Your aunt linked her arm with yours and you both started walking through the garden.

“Well, apparently he was quite sad about it,” she said. “Your uncle was very clear though, he said you two would not make a suitable couple in matrimony.”

You squeezed her hand in yours while you two climbed the marble stairs. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” she said. “I know you cannot stand him.”

“It’s not that,” you muttered. “It’s just… He does not fit my criteria.”

Your aunt hummed. “Are you sure it’s not also because you have affections for someone else?”

“I don’t have any affections for anyone,” you said way too fast and your aunt stopped when you two reached the entrance of the ballroom.

“Whatever you say Clover,” she said. “Just promise me something?”

“Of course.”

“Try to have fun,” she said and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, I can see Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”

She made her way to them and you nodded at them with a small smile, then turned your head when you heard your name being called.

Oh God damn it.

Benedict looked as frozen as you were unlike Charlotte who seemed incredibly cheerful as usual, waving at you. You swallowed thickly and looked around, considering leaving the ballroom for a second but you knew you couldn’t do that to Charlotte, so you made your way to them.

“Good evening,” you said curtly, making sure to keep your gaze only on Charlotte who squealed, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Oh finally you’re here!” she said. “I was beginning to think you were going to avoid balls forever.”

“I’m not that lucky, it seems.”

“Benedict was just asking about y—” she stopped talking as Benedict elbowed her and she rolled her eyes while Benedict cleared his throat.

“Miss Y/N.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted him back and Charlotte looked between you two, then put her hands on her hips.

“Well,” she said. “Anthony looks annoyed yet again, so I’d better go and ask what that is about.”

“What?” Benedict asked as your eyes widened and Charlotte shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m curious about the reason so I must go.”

“Lottie—”

“Charlie—”

“No to both of you, I will see you later!” Charlotte said and walked away from you in a haste, making you shake your head.

“Not very subtle, that one.”

“She has many strong suits, subtlety has never been one,” Benedict commented and took a deep breath, then shot you a crooked grin. “Hello again.”

You raised your brows. “You know we don’t have to do that, right?”

“Do what?”

“Have a conversation,” you said and he took a deep breath.

“I was actually hoping for it.”

“You were hoping for—Jesus Christ, no,” you were distracted mid-sentence as soon as you saw Lord Shaw’s eyes stopping on you, and he fixed his waistcoat before he started to approach you.

“No to having a conversation?”

“No to the universe having a grudge against me for some reason,” you said through your teeth and Benedict followed your line of sight, then turned to you and offered you his hand.

“A dance, my lady?”

You pulled your brows together. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a ballroom,” he said as the music started. “People tend to dance at balls, in case it has escaped your notice.”

You stole a look at Lord Shaw coming closer and let out a breath, then placed your hand in his.

It was like a lightning. As soon as your skin touched his, you could swear sparks ran through you, that familiar warmth engulfing your hand and judging by how his hand twitched over yours, you could tell he felt the same. He hesitated for a moment, letting out a breath, then led you to the dancefloor with the other couples. For a moment you feared everyone else in the ballroom could hear your heartbeat because of how deafening it was in your ears as soon as he had put his hand on the small of your back, but you tried to repress the excitement and took a step towards him as the dance required.

“I appreciate your help,” you said after a moment and he smiled softly.

“I was going to ask you for a dance anyway,” he said, his smile widening at the apparent confusion on your face. “So, did Lord Shaw bore you that much?”

You rolled your eyes. “Worse.”

“Worse?”

“He proposed.”

Benedict’s whole body froze mid-dance and you shot him a warning glare, raising his hand above your head to twirl yourself as if he was the one still leading.

“Did they not teach you how to dance? Or can you only put up a decent performance in bed—”

“What did you answer?” he cut you off and you scoffed.

“I said no, obviously,” you said. “I told you. He does not fit my criteria.”

His eyes flickered over your face. “Y/N…”

“That was not an invitation to talk of that now,” you said. “It has been a nice evening so far, I don’t wish to ruin it.”

“But we must talk of it.”

“Not really,” you said, those sparks hitting you with their full force when his fingertips brushed over your wrist. “What did you want to have a conversation about earlier?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “The rooftop.”

Your breath got caught in your throat and you stole a look at him before averting your gaze to the other dancing couples.

“I don’t think that we should.”

“Y/N.”

“We can just pretend it did not take place,” you managed to say and he let out a dry chuckle.

“I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Your throat tightened as you let him lead the dance, barely aware of your own movements as if you were in a haze. You knew there were couples all around you but somehow it felt like you two were the only people in that ballroom, like he was the one person whose presence mattered.

Especially when he was looking at you like that.

“Talking of it will not change a thing,” you forced yourself to say. “I told you; you mustn’t even think of it. I will break your heart terribly—”

“Alright.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him.

“What?” you asked, “What do you mean, alright?”

He pulled you closer the moment the note of the music changed, signaling the slow end of the tune and he grabbed you by the waist to lift you up as the dance required, taking your breath away. You grasped at his broad shoulders, your heart leaping to your throat and he gently put you down, your hands still on his shoulders. His pleasant scent filled your lungs and you swallowed thickly, your eyes still locked in his.

“You said you would torment me,” he said, his voice low as the music came to a stop. “So be it. Torment me if you wish to.”

He bowed his head and walked away from you, leaving you there completely dumbfounded. It felt as if the whole room was spinning as you watched him walk out of the ballroom -probably to the garden- and you looked around to see whether your aunt would notice your absence, but she was nowhere to be found, neither were any of her friends. You licked your lips, then walked out of the ballroom as well, the cool air hitting your burning face as soon as you stepped outside. You pressed the back of your hands on your cheeks and checked whether anyone was around, but it seemed safe enough.

It was considerably a small garden, at least not as big as the last ball’s so it took you only five minutes to find him. He was at the far end of the garden, leaning back to the wall of the gazebo, exhaling the smoke of the cigarette in his hand into air. Your heart skipped a beat but you refused to let it intimidate you, so instead you passed by the begonias and stomped over to him, your brows pulled into a frown.

“Are you insane?” you asked, making him turn his head and he pushed himself off the wall.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” you insisted. “You long for heartbreak, is that it? You could not find a lady within the ton to break your heart for some sort of inspiration for your art, that’s why you keep saying these things to me—”

“Is that what you think?” he cut you off and let out a breath. “Come on now.”

“Then what is it?”

“Do you really want to hear it?” he asked you. “Because I think if I say it out loud, you’re going to run away as fast as you can.”

You scoffed a bitter chuckle. “As always, you put too much importance in your words’ impact on me.”

“Is that right?” he said, looking you in the eye. “Why are you here then?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I…I don’t have to explain my actions to you.”

“Why are you here, Y/N?” he asked again, his voice on edge and you gritted your teeth, then stuck your nose in the air.

“I cannot have you hope for something impossible,” you managed to say. “You must cast that thought out of your mind—”

“You don’t think I tried?” he cut you off, and shook his head. “What on earth do you think I’ve been trying to do since I met you? It’s not working like it’s supposed to.”

You let out a dry laugh, the familiar bitterness that tasted terribly like jealousy reaching your throat.

“Right,” you said. “Spare me those lies, will you? I’m not as clueless as others in that ballroom. Whatever you were doing was done for your own pleasure, it had nothing to do with me.”

“You—”

“Nothing could ever happen between us no matter how much you may hope for it.” you cut him off and he stared at you, a flash of pain crossing his handsome face.

“It’s just me then?” he managed to ask and you pulled back slightly.

“Pardon?”

“It’s just me who feels this fire,” he said, taking a step towards you, his gaze pining you to your spot. “It’s just me who cannot cast you out of my mind, it’s just me who is in lo—”

“Don’t,” you said, the warning word like poisoned honey on your tongue, half sweet and half painful. "Don't say it."

“Why not?”

Because I don’t believe it.

You gritted your teeth, your jaw set firm in determination. “I do not wish to hear it.”

A soft smile curled his lips.

“Alright,” he said after a beat. “Then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me you feel nothing for me,” he said. “Tell me it’s just me who feels this, and I swear on my honor I will never bother you again.”

It was supposed to be easy.

The whole ton could say lots of things about you, but no one could say you weren’t an expert on keeping your emotions under control. That required you to come up with lies whenever you needed to, but somehow you couldn’t will the words out of your mouth, they all got stuck in that lump that was growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

Your uncle was right, unfortunately.

Silence was enough of an answer sometimes.

“You—I—” you stammered, averting your eyes for a moment. “That has nothing to do with the discussion right now.”

He stared at you for a moment, that light in his gaze growing soft before he took a deep breath, looking down at the cigarette between his fingers.

“Y/N,” he said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You either go back to the ballroom or—”

“What exactly makes you think you can tell me what to do?” you interrupted him, narrowing your eyes into a glare and he repressed a smile, then shook his head.

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m telling you what I am going to do,” he said. “You either go back to the ballroom, or I will kiss you. You have time until this cigarette is finished, so think carefully.”

That…

No.

No that was a bluff. It just had to be, of course he was not going to kiss you. Being under the delusion of infatuation and fooling himself into believing he was in love in order to experience heartbreak was one thing, but him actually kissing you was another.

Deep down he didn’t want or love you. He simply could not, even if he tried.

By some miracle, you managed to find your voice even though you felt as if excitement had already taken over you. “Am I supposed to be intimidated?”

He shook his head and took a drag of the cigarette.

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m just telling you what is going to happen.”

“You do remember I have a knife for times like these, do you not?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

You needed to leave. Any rational woman would leave immediately so as to protect their reputation, but somehow all your logic that would normally scream at you was drowned by the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

You were never the one to back away from a challenge after all, and the fire that was roaring through your veins was too powerful for you to even consider fighting against it. It was as if you were in a dream, and you were nearly trembling with anticipation, your whole body refusing to just take the step to go back to the ballroom.

It was just going to be one time.

You would only kiss him once, you would only taste that desire that had been haunting your dreams, tantalizing you every single night to wake you up gasping only once, and then—

Then you were going to go back to your original strategy. You were going to forget about him and this night, and find yourself a very old husband as you had planned and move on with your life.

Just once.

Just once couldn’t hurt.

You felt yourself take a step towards him before you pulled the cigarette from his lips to flick it to the ground, as if daring him to make his move. The fire in his eyes was so intense that for a moment you felt as if your whole face was burning, but you raised your brows, looking up at him before you scoffed a laugh.

“Just as I thought,” you said and turned around to leave, but felt him grab your upper arm to spin you around, drawing a gasp from you as your gaze snapped up to his.

“You, my poisonous flower,” his voice was a low murmur, making your heart skip a beat and he ran his knuckles over your burning cheekbone. “You will be the end of me.”

With that, his lips claimed yours.

Oh.

This was the infamous euphoria that every artist chased through centuries.

You could swear you felt yourself melt in his arms as he pressed you back to the wall of the gazebo, his hand cradling the back of your head, messing up your perfectly coiffed updo your maid had spent almost half an hour on but you couldn’t find it in you to care about it.

You couldn’t find it in you to care about anything else but him and his touch as long as he kept kissing you like this.

Desire spread through you like wildfire as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, blindly chasing that feeling which made you feel like you were falling off a cliff, your heart pacing in your chest, your whole body taken by this newfound high—

And then someone gasped.

It was as if you had been splashed with ice cold water. Benedict pulled back immediately and you turned your head but as soon as you saw who it was –who they were— you felt your stomach drop.

Lady Featherington’s mouth was open in shock, her eyes wide while your aunt looked almost frozen in her spot. Lady Bridgerton was covering her mouth, obviously as shocked as the rest of them and Lady Danbury let out a breath, shaking her head.

You could feel the fear smothering every single trace of happiness that was rushing through your system just a moment ago and you swallowed thickly, digging your fingernails into your palm while Benedict took a step sideways in your direction, almost shielding you from their gaze.

Through the fog of absolute fear, your mind managed to notice that tiny detail. You could claim he had no understanding of responsibility, that he was one of the most privileged men in the ton who never thought or cared about consequences, but it didn’t change one single fact:

Benedict Bridgerton; the unbridled philanderer, the spoiled second-son and free-spirited artist, had quite literally placed himself between you and the ton’s scrutiny.

Lady Featherington was the first to break the silence.

“A scandal!”

“Benedict…” Lady Bridgerton whispered and you shook your head, looking at your aunt while you blinked back the tears.

“I knew Lady Whistledown was right!” Lady Featherington said. “I knew it!”

“I’m sure there is an explanation,” Lady Danbury said through her teeth, glaring at Benedict, “Is there not?”

“What explanation?” Lady Featherington said with a small laugh. “Did you not see what I saw?”

“Y/N, what on earth do you think you are doing?” your aunt managed to ask in a whisper as if she was as shocked as you were, and you tried to gulp down the lump in your throat, keeping silent.

“This is unacceptable,” Lady Featherington said and motioned at you two. “Unchaperoned and—and— doing that!”

Air.

You needed air but somehow, you couldn’t seem to get enough of it into your lungs.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Lady Featherington continued as Benedict stole a look at you, his hand curtly brushing over yours as if he wanted to remind you he was there before he turned to them. “This is no position to be found! Y/N, your reputation will be ruined when—”

“That is not going to happen, Lady Featherington,” Benedict cut her off, his voice completely calm and collected, the opposite of the mind-numbing fear that was nearly smothering you at the moment.  

Lady Danbury raised her brows. “Is it not?”

Benedict shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said, his words piercing through the chaos in your mind. “We’re going to get married.”

Chapter 9