#visited this beautiful studio today and I’m so grateful for the things I’m seeing the places I’m going

[jamelalatise]

[seokjinsonlyone]

this is how i think it’d go if you went to visit bts at work and gave them a little peck on the lips

namjoon:

you’d probably walk into his studio and he’d be at his desk headphones in playing back some beat or revising some lyrics

you’d come up behind him and wrap your arms around his neck effectively stealing his attention away from the track

and that’s when you’d place a nice little peck on his lips

but that wouldn’t be enough for him so before you could even fully break apart he’d already be chasing your lips

he’d roll his chair around to properly face you placing one hand at the back of your neck bringing you back to him immediately slipping his tongue in your mouth

what once was a cute little greeting turned into a sensual experience as he gently massaged your tongue with his

and when he felt like he had his fill of you for the time being he pulled back, smiling, dimples on full display and said “hey, baby.”

the depth of his voice would send shivers down your spine and you would settle into his lap wrapping your arms around his neck picking up where he left off just bc he was done didn’t mean you were

seokjin:

you’d probably end up at hybe headquarters after seokjin called you when he was done with his day to get dinner together

you’d call him to let him know you’re outside and within a minute he’d be in your car

you’d lean over the center console to give him a peck to which he’d immediately complain

“woooowww i’ve been at work all day and that’s all i get”

you’d swallow down the urge to tell him that he not the only one that work in favor of rolling your eyes and pressing your lips to his again for a little longer

that wouldn’t be enough for him though “just one more,” he’d request.

“one more.”

“one more.”

he knew that asking for a kiss from you was a dangerous game

could feel it in the way he melted against you

could tell by the way he seriously thought about giving you one of his rolex watches you jokingly said you’d steal and sell

or one of his cars you said you’d steal and sell

thought about giving you the world just for one more kiss

yoongi:

with yoongi you’d probably enter his studio (he’s always in the studio) with the code he gave you

which the fact that you were the only one other than himself that had the code did inexplicable things to your heart you couldn’t really delve into without feeling like you were gonna explode

anyway you’d walk in the room and he already knew it was you like you said you were the only other one who could freely enter and he’d be at his monitor doing whatever producers do

“hey just gimme one sec”

and you knew how that one went sometimes it was actually just a few seconds sometimes it was a few hours until you had his attention but you didn’t mind you ain’t have anything else to do just wanted some company

you didn’t wanna disturb him too much but you couldn’t help yourself so you walked to him turned his head to face you and quickly kissed him before recoiling to the couch a few feet away

10-15 minutes later he was summoning you over to him, pulling you into his lap, and using his thumb and index finger to trap your chin bringing your lips back to his for a proper kiss

you sighed contentedly afterwards laying your head on top of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist, showing you what he was working on

hoseok:

hobi was usually a super organized person liked for everything to have a place and everything to be in that place

but you were his little chaos and organization was definitely not his top priority when he was with you taking second place to soaking up every ounce of your presence in whichever way you would allow him

so really it was no surprise when he texted you asking if you’d seen his little notebook where he wrote his lyrics and whatever other ideas or thoughts popped into his head

it took a bit of searching to find but you had it and he was very fortunate you liked him it was the only reason you were willing to drop it off before work

you made sure to let him know he was the reason you looked ugly today the trip to his office severely cutting your usual routine and he made sure to let you know that a) you were beautiful no matter what and b) he would make it up to you

it was only your second time at the new building your first time was when he invited you along for their first look at the hybe insight museum so it was safe to say you had absolutely no idea where you were going despite the detailed instructions one of the staff gave you upon entry if you hadn’t run into taehyun you probably would’ve been running around that building for another hour

you were thoroughly unamused with the situation but hobi looked so cute and sheepish when you entered the practice room wrapping his arms around you immediately alternating between expressing his gratitude and regretfulness that you couldn’t help but press a small kiss to his mouth

an action you instantly regretted bc a) it caused him to start pressing kisses all over your face in return b) it caused an eruption of various forms of shouting from the six other boys you failed to notice upon entry

you pushed at his chest as heat flooded your body from embarrassment preparing to leave you were going to be late for work “be good” you told him personally before shouting “have fun!” at the other members

jimin:

your days off hardly coincided with jimin’s days off mostly bc he never really had days off always had to go in for one thing or another

but his days weren’t always jam packed some days like today he had a meeting in the morning and a meeting in the evening and not much else to do besides that

and he was the absolute worst at entertaining himself always needed to find someone else’s business to get into and as the object of his affection you were always his first choice

he tried not to bother you too much when you were busy though no matter how clingy he was and he was awfully clingy

if you two weren’t able to be joined at the hip in your free time you were definitely on the phone and if he wasn’t the object of your affection as well you would’ve started ignoring him a long time ago as it stands he was the best company

anyway he knew you were off today and had no plans other than finding a new anime to start so naturally when he found himself bored out of his mind he was in your ear purring down the line for you to come to him

it didn’t take too much convincing your attention span wasn’t on your side so you couldn’t really get into anything and even though you literally saw jimin yesterday you missed him :\

it’s why you didn’t hesitate to land a peck on his lips upon meeting him again and latching onto his arm firmly as he led you to one of the small practice rooms they had

“so tell me about your day”

you looked him over suspiciously he had that mischievous glint in his eye so you knew he was up to something

and you were right you weren’t more than two sentences in to your answer before he was pressing his lips to yours in a long lingering kiss

“i’m sorry continue”

“um...” your attention span really wasn’t with you and it was hard to retrace your train of thought with your lips tingling and the hairs on the back of your neck raised

you eventually found your mental footing and continued speaking about your day which had more or less turned into you ranting about haikyuu when again mid sentence he captured your lips between his own one hand tracing up and down your spine while the other held your head into place so he could lick into your mouth just the way he liked

“go on” he panted slightly breathless once you finally broke apart

“jimin...” you whined

he giggled at his own antics loved riling you up found it so cute how you couldn’t even try to keep the dreamy look off your face “you like me so much don’t you?” he asked with a self assured grin etched onto his face

you did

taehyung:

sometimes he felt so sorry to you hated cancelling on you because something came up or another thing ran over time

you were always cool with it tho never made a huge fuss of it which he was forever grateful for bc he really did love his job

but he really loved you too

he had to cancel three separate times just this week alone and he was missing you something bad

and even though he really wanted to take you out and do something nice for you like you deserved at this point he just wanted to see you

missed seeing you in person and having you in his arms

that’s how you found yourself on a bench tucked into a quiet corner of the upper garden at a table chairs side by side his hands toying with yours as you caught him up on your week so far

he was kinda obsessed with you and you loved it because having his undivided attention felt so so good

so you couldn’t help but close the gap, briefly pressing your lips to his

the slight blush that took over his cheeks had an insane amount of serotonin flooding your brain you loved him so much

even more so when he surpassed his bout of shyness and unabashedly brought you closer to him and attempted to make up for a week’s worth of lost kisses

jungkook:

sometimes life got busy for the both of you and even though you meant to meet up it just didn’t happen

but once you finished your work week you made it your mission to see him as soon as possible

you’d texted him when you got off and he told you he was finishing vocal practice then going to workout which left you with enough time to stop home and freshen up before he was done

as expected his trainer told you he was in the shower when you popped up so you decided to wait in the hallway for him to come out

“heeeeey what are you doing here”

you looked up from your phone to see your slightly damp very buff boyfriend grinning down at you

almost instantly you were hugging him arms wrapped around his waist before pulling back slightly pecking him on the lips

which set something off inside jungkook a shock ran down his body just from the feeling of your lips pressed against his

“let’s hang out” you agreed immediately “i just need to grab something from my studio first”

he laced your hands together dragging you alongside him and as soon as you entered the room he had you pinned against the door hands on your hips kissing you with far greater ferocity than you could have anticipated

and it’s like jungkook knew he missed you but he didn’t realize just how much until he had you in his arms your lips on his

kissing you felt like home and his introverted self never wanted to leave the house couldn’t even help the groan that escaped the back of his throat as you took control of the kiss and made a mental note to remember to never deprive himself of this pleasure again

one of his hands slid down your thigh lifting your leg until you got the hint to wrap both of them around his waist allowing him to show off his strength and grope you at the same time

“jk,” you said breathlessly, breaking the kiss

his lips were chasing yours the second you broke contact he didn’t care about breathing when a fire was spreading through his body

you indulged him for a few more seconds before breaking apart again

this time his lips traveled down your neck kissing and sucking until you were making the prettiest sounds for him

you felt like you were going to explode his hands were squeezing your butt and his lips were on your neck and you were going to explode

“jk...” you whined again tugging lightly at the hair on the nape of his neck

he made his way back up your neck pressing a hard kiss on your cheek before gently nudging your nose with his “hmmm?”

and suddenly you were staring directly into his eyes big and pretty and filled with stars shining just for you

you were going to explode “let’s get out of here”

[hopefulobjectmiracle]

wearing the smile you gave me

This fic was prompted by a sweet anon, and I decided to dedicate it to my dear friend @randomcanbian because I love her. I know the next few days will be hard for you, and I hope this makes your week a little less difficult 💕

Pairing: Brittany S. Pierce/Santana Lopez

Prompt: “My shirt is way too big on you...but it’s cute”

Words: ~2.3k

Additional Info: Fluff, Canon Compliant, Married!Brittana, Future Fic. 

Read on AO3

-

Brittany wakes to the soft sound of snoring. The clock next to her bed reads 6:04 AM, but it’s still dark outside.

She rolls over in her bed and breathes a sigh of relief. Santana had gotten home last night, safe and sound. Not that she wouldn’t have, but New York is a dangerous city; one that the two of them hadn’t spent much time in together prior to their wedding. And so Brittany couldn’t help but worry about her anyway. 

It’s been four months since the wedding, and married life has been treating them well. They've settled into their new apartment fairly seamlessly, and have been taking classes at Columbia together just like they always planned. Santana would never admit this to Mr. Schuester, but his ‘hunch’ from way back when had turned out to be right - she really did want to go into law in order to make a difference in the world. Preparing for law is difficult, but Santana is loving that she gets to have such an important goal. Brittany is taking classes part-time in the math department, spending most of her time training at the Paul Taylor Dance Company. 

It’s not easy, though. Santana often works late nights at the diner to earn extra money - late nights that keep Brittany up worrying about her. Occasionally, like yesterday, their schedules don’t overlap and they aren’t able to spend time alone together. There are bills to pay, classes to attend, and responsibilities that neither one would have ever dreamed of as a teenager. And yet - it’s perfect, because it’s the two of them. Brittany thinks that her teenage self would be damn proud of where they are today. 

Now, Santana lies next to Brittany, her dark hair fanned out across her face and her features lax with sleep. Brittany smiles as she traces a finger across Santana’s cheek. This is her Santana, hers alone; the soft, sweet girl that no one but her ever gets to see. And Brittany gets to spend the rest of her life with her. She gets to wake up every morning to that beautiful face, spend her entire day loving this incredible woman, and go to sleep every night knowing that Santana will be right next to her. 

Forever. 

This thought alone sparks Brittany’s every nerve, and is enough to send Brittany stumbling out of bed, deciding that she isn’t going to be able to fall asleep again before sunrise. Four months in, and it’s finally hit her on this dark, cold morning - this is it. This is forever with the girl she loves. 

She quickly smoothes the blankets over Santana, presses a soft kiss to her forehead, and all but sprints to the kitchen of their tiny condo. Lord Tubbington, whom Brittany hadn’t even realized was awake, uses this as an opportunity to climb onto their dining table, attempting to make himself at home in their fruit bowl. 

“Quiet, you!” Brittany whispers. “Don’t be an asshole, Santana needs her rest.” Lord Tubbington hisses at her, and Brittany sighs and picks him up, depositing him on the kitchen counter. He mewls in protest, and she jabs her finger at him. “Behave. My wife needs sleep, and I will not have you and your gang ruining it.” She sneaks a glance back into the bedroom. Santana is thankfully still asleep, and Brittany breathes out another sigh of relief. She turns back to Lord Tubbington and says, “I’m keeping an eye on you, mister.”

Brittany leans forward and opens a couple of cupboards mindlessly, unsure of what to make for her wife’s breakfast. It’s a rare free Saturday morning, and she is not going to let it go to waste when she can do something special instead. She sifts through the ingredients they have in their fridge, making a mental note to stock up on bagels. Brittany sighs. She wishes that NYC had at least one Breadstix - she isn’t really the best cook, and Santana only deserves the best. 

Still, Brittany thinks Santana will appreciate anything Brittany makes for her, because she knows that what really matters to Santana is that Brittany loves her enough to make an effort. Even if that effort results in burnt lasagna. Which is an event that Santana has sworn to never bring up again. 

Brittany shakes that thought away. Santana’s had a hard week, and Brittany needs to do everything in her power to make it better. She spins around the kitchen again and grabs the recipe book they keep on the counter. She flips through it, landing on a page with a list of Italian recipes. She scans the pasta section, hoping to find something easy enough to make. Raviolis, farfalle, fusilli...

Fettuccine Alfredo. Bingo. 

Brittany thinks back to her wedding, when Kurt and Blaine burst out laughing when that dish was served for dinner. Apparently, when Sue had locked them in that elevator - a scheme that Brittany had no involvement in, thank you very much - Sue had slipped them a basket of Breadstix food, including a recipe for the pasta. A couple of weeks ago during a drunken night out, Kurt had been so gracious as to share it with Brittany, and ever since then, she’s had it in her back pocket; an ace up her sleeve that she had forgotten about until now. It’s Santana’s favorite, and Kurt’s recipe is simple enough that even Brittany can’t screw it up. 

Brittany takes out her phone and scrolls through her pictures until she finds the recipe. She sets the phone on the counter and gets to work, pulling out the noodles, parmesan cheese, garlic, butter, and cream. She turns the stove on, placing a pot of water on the burner. As she’s boiling the water, Lord Tubbington climbs up next to her, knocking her phone off in the process. 

“Damn it, I told you to stay away,” Brittany snaps, making a shooing motion at Lord Tubbington. She crouches down and looks at her phone, checking to make sure that no damage has been done. 

On the screen is now a photo of the night Santana came to visit Brittany at the dance studio, complete with a big bouquet of flowers. That had been one of the most magical days of her training at the studio, and Santana being there had only made the night better. Brittany picks up her phone and beams. Not for the first time tonight, Brittany is made aware of how lucky she is to be able to have this life with Santana. She places the phone onto the counter again and begins grating the cheese. 

Hours later, Brittany is stirring the alfredo sauce on the pan, contemplating the possibility of a four-dimensional cube within the macroscopic universe, when Santana comes padding into the kitchen. “Hey,” Santana says, startling Brittany out of her reverie. 

“Hi!” 

“Mmmm...that smells so good,” Santana says, stroking Brittany’s arm and inhaling the scents of garlic and cream with a sleepy grin on her face. “What’re you making?”

“It’s a surprise,” Brittany sing-songs. “And good morning, honey,” she says, giving Santana a kiss on the cheek. Santana yawns and rubs her eyes, her hair sticking in every direction. It’s the most gorgeous thing Brittany has ever seen, and - oh. 

This is new. 

Santana is wearing Brittany’s MIT shirt. The oversized one that Brittany used to throw on daily when she was at the school. The one that was her only source of comfort so far away from home; the one that she put away after reuniting with Santana because she simply didn’t need it anymore. 

Now, it somehow looks even better on the person that is Brittany’s forever home. The shirt hangs loose on Santana’s diminutive frame. She’s not wearing anything under it, and that makes her look even more appealing than Brittany had ever thought a T-shirt would look on any one person. 

“You’re wearing my shirt,” Brittany says wonderingly. 

“Yeah, babe, is that okay?” 

“Okay? I...” Brittany is at a loss for words. She slides her hands down Santana’s lovely arms and yanks her in for a kiss. She cups Santana’s face, holding her close and keeping their foreheads pressed together after they break the kiss. 

“I’m going to take that a yes,” Santana says, grinning as she pulls back. 

“You look incredible,” Brittany breathes. “You have no idea how much I-”

A loud noise goes off right then, making both girls jump. Brittany hurries back to her saucepan, pouring its contents into a bowl. 

“What exactly is that?” Santana says, peering over Brittany’s shoulder. Brittany spins around and covers Santana’s eyes.

“No, Santana! It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Brittany says, steering Santana away from the stove. 

“I want to help you,” Santana says, attempting to push past her back into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do this all by you- ”

“No can do, honey,” Brittany says, sweeping her hands down Santana’s back and hoisting her up from underneath. 

“Britt - ah - what!” Santana yells as Brittany picks her up. She struggles to get out of Brittany’s arms. “Put me down!”

“Sorry,” Brittany says, adjusting Santana in her arms. She walks over to the bedroom and deposits Santana onto the bed, sending her tumbling into the mattress. “You stay here until the food is ready.”

Santana faux-glares at her from where she’s sprawled on the bed, and then sighs in defeat. “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Brittany leans in and kisses Santana’s forehead. “Stay here.” 

Brittany races back to the kitchen, pouring the sauce over her noodles and sprinkling the remaining cheese over them. She takes out the orange juice from the fridge, removes the muffins from the microwave, and neatly arranges everything onto a tray. She carries the tray to the bedroom, careful not to trip over Lord Tubbington’s now-sleeping form. 

Santana’s face lights up when she sees Brittany, and she gasps in awe as she takes in the breakfast Brittany made. Santana ducks her head, bashful and so, so cute. “Britt,” she says, smiling softly. “You made all of this for me?”

“Only the best for you, babe.”

“How did you do it? I thought...” Santana trails off. “You’ve always said that you can’t cook. But you made my favorite meal for me.”

“A chef never reveals her secrets,” Brittany says, winking at her. She makes a mental note to thank Kurt at their next night out. 

“Oh, yeah?” Santana teases. She leans in closer. “And what else does this mysterious chef do?”

“Right now, she just wants her wife to eat her breakfast,” Brittany says.

Santana rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. But you need to come eat with me.” She sets aside the tray and draws back the covers, gesturing for Brittany to join her in the bed. Brittany crawls in and tucks herself against Santana, pulling the blankets back over them. Santana sets the tray on their knees and hands her a fork. The two of them sit in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, taking turns feeding each other small bites of the food; just relishing in each other’s company. 

“You know what?” Brittany says suddenly. 

Santana swallows down a bite of pasta. “Hmm?”

“This shirt that you’re wearing…” Brittany reaches out and gently fingers the fabric. “This is what I used to wear when I was away. I don’t know why, but it would always make me feel safe. It helped me when I was isolated from you and all of our friends. It made me feel less alone.”

Santana nods her head in understanding. “So, how come you don’t wear it anymore? It’s pretty badass, and I bet you looked so cute in it. It’d be perfect for late nights when I’m at the diner.”

Brittany shrugs. “I don’t need it now. I have you to make me feel safe. Even when you’re not here physically, I have the knowledge that you’re my wife,” she says, showing off her wedding ring. “You believed in me when no one else did, you supported me through everything that happened before MIT, and you even managed to figure out that I wasn’t happy and got me the hell out of there. Why would I need some old shirt when I have you, my darling wife, to keep me safe?”

Santana grabs Brittany’s hand and kisses it. “You make me feel safe too, Britt,” she says earnestly. “Life is so, so hard sometimes, and you make me feel like it’s okay to just be myself in a world that doesn’t always like me.” She looks down and presses her lips together. “Growing up, I never thought I would have that. I always thought I’d marry a man, and he’d sit around judging me on everything I did.” 

Brittany winces, remembering how heartbroken Santana was for most of their high school years and how long she’d had to struggle with her feelings. She remembers too, how her own heart broke every time Santana recited a hypothetical future with some nameless man, knowing that it would never make her truly happy. 

“I never thought I’d be able to feel so free and so loved,” Santana continues. She cups Brittany’s cheek. “But here you are,” she says, grinning helplessly. 

“Here I am,” Brittany agrees, bringing their lips together in a soft, slow kiss. Brittany tries to pour all the love in her heart into that kiss, hoping that through the kiss, Santana will feel even a fraction of the infinite love Brittany holds for her. 

“And I’m going to stay with you, Santana. I’m going to love you and make you feel like this for the rest of your life.”

“I’m going to do the same for you, Britt.”

As they lie together, talking, kissing, loving one another, their stomachs so full, their bodies so comfortable, and their hearts so happy, Brittany thinks once again that this is really it for them. 

This is forever, and Brittany wouldn’t have it any other way.

[omgjasminesimone]

The Moments in Between

Dakota x MC

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.

High School Graduation

Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.

He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.

Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.

“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.

“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.

Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.

Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”

Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”

Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”

“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.

“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”

“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”

“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”

...

Discharged

Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.

“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.

“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.

“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.

Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.

Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”

“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.

Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”

“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.

“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.

“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.

“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.

“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”

“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”

Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”

Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”

A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.

“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.

“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.

“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.

“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.

Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”

Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.

“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.

...

College Visits

“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.

Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.

He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.

She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again. 

Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”

“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”

Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”

“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.

“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”

“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.

But it’s worth it.

...

New York City

Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.

He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”

Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”

Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”

“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.

“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.

“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.

Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.

Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”

“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.

Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.

Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”

Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.

“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.

Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.

Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.

Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”

Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.

Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.

The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.

“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.

“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”

“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.

“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.

That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“

“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.

“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.

God damn, he’s so lucky. 

...

College Graduation

As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.

But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.

...

Wedding

“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.

Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.

His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.

“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.

“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.

“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.

“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.

That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.

 When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.

His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.

“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.

“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.

The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.

“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.

“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.

Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.

She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.

...

Video Message

Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She grins up at him. “Ready?”

“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.

Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”

She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.

“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.

“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“

“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.

“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.

Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.

“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.

Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.

“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”

Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.

“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”

Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.

It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”

While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”

He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

...

Heart to Heart

“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.

“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.

“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.

Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.

“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.

“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.

“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.

“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.

“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.

“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.

“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.

Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”

“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”

“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.

“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.

“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.

“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”

Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.

She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“

“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.

“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”

“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject. 

“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle. 

“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases. 

Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”

“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”

“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.

...

..

A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)

tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach

[staywritten]

Phobia│Bang Chan

Phobia │Bang Chan

Synopsis: Relationships were about give and take. Putting in effort and compromising, but there was only so much you could do when he stopped trying. Based on Phobia by Stray Kids

Genre: IdolAu, One shot, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Song Fic? 

Word Count: 4444

Masterlist 

Six weeks.

It had been six weeks since you’d actually seen Chan. Normally you’d be understanding he was a very busy man. Songwriter, singer, producer, rapper, and leader he was in high demand especially these days. He was working a full length album for Stray Kids and even assisting in the production of fellow label mates, but six weeks was just too long to go without actually seeing your boyfriend. It wasn’t as if he was on tour or promoting he was just a few blocks away at the studio that he basically barricaded himself in.

Chan being a workaholic was pretty normal. Him not sleeping and spending hours or days in the studio wasn’t unusual. But once in a while, around album time it got bad.

You made sure that you brought food, and clothes and just dropped them off for him. Occasionally you’d get Felix to deliver something since you knew he’d have a slightly easier chance of getting Chan to actually eat something instead of continuing to work himself to death.

Normally it wouldn’t be this bad, you had a life of your own so you understood keeping a healthy distance from one another and that was part of your relationship that worked so well. You both loved each other, but you valued alone time. You worked full time at an office and it was pretty daunting, and having some time to yourself was nice. It allowed you to go and visit your mom, and to spend some time with friends, even indulge in your hobbies. 

Dating Chan for three years had gotten you used to his routines and how he got when it was album time. However six weeks started to make you wonder if you were even still in a relationship. He’d call occasionally here and there for a few minutes, but he hadn’t been home in over a month. 

If it wasn’t for his weekly vlives for Stays, you wouldn’t even get to see him. On a particular night you caught one. Him going live at an unsettling 4am. In your defense you were also awake but him not being home in your bed had made sleep hard to come by.

He put on that beautiful smile for Stays. Entertained, gave warm words of comfort, shared his favorite songs and listened to their suggestions. Although he smiled the entire time. He looked so tired. His skin, paler than usual. He was always pale but you never thought he looked sickly. His skin wasn’t as bright, slight bags noticeable under his eyes. His hair, not as shiny and bouncy as it normally was. He looked so physically exhausted. He hid it well, to not worry Stays but you knew. 

At the very end of his broadcast he wished Stays goodnight, gazing at the camera and for a whole moment it was like he was all yours again. 

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

I can't go there, where you are

I can't approach you

It was like he could prioritize you, because you were a Stay and he loved his Stays. “Big hug” he smiled, going in to hug his camera, wrapping his arms around it. And the moment he came in close, the screen filling with his chest your body tensed as if you were actually being embraced. A soft smile grazing your face because that was the warmest you felt in six weeks. That was the most attention he’d given you in six weeks and you shared it with thousands of others. 

You had the day off and you were determined to get Chan out of that studio even if it was only for a few hours to have a good lunch. He needed fresh hair, he needed the break. You managed to get a little done up today. Your comfortable jeans traded in a favor of a light sundress that hugged your form in the right places. Your hair down, neatly styled, framing your face. Your make up topped off with a nice glossy red that complimented your skin tone.

The walk to the studio was nice, the weather had been pretty amazing the past few days and it would have been a shame to let it go to waste. Walking into the JYP studio you waved to the receptionist, who had once again given you a small smile. She had gotten used to your visit and she would do her best to try and get Chan to at least come out but it wasn’t her fault your boyfriend was a workaholic.

You smiled brightly seeing a familiar face walk down the hall. “Hey How are you!” you chimed waving to Changbin. You met Chan through Changbin a few years back. You’d been a close family friend and it was a meeting that was merely by chance but you and Chan hit it off and the rest was history. It only brought you and Changbin closer, and he'd been a welcomed constant in your life, acting more so as a surrogate brother. 

He brought you into a big hug, squeezing just a bit and patting your head. “Long time no see, you look beautiful.” he looked at you proudly. ”

“It’s been a while” your mood seemed to brighten greatly as soon as you saw him. “How’s Chris?”

His smile faltered for a bit. “Honestly…he's in one of those moods…he finished his new track weeks ago but..he just hasn’t been able to record it properly…you know how he gets…expecting absolute perfection…” he sighed. “It’s wearing all of us out, him and Jisung keep getting into it”

“He hasn’t been home in over a month…” you looked down.

“I figured as much…His studio basically became an apartment…He won’t even go back to the dorm” he crossed his arms over his chest “He’s being way too hard on himself. If a studio is supposed to represent your mind then his is just a mess right now…I don’t think he’ll ever get the song perfectly if he doesn’t take a break.”

“I was hoping to get him to take a break today…ya know have a lunch date. Go for a walk, enjoy the weather” you gave him a hopeful smile. “Wishful thinking?”

He chuckled “I think that’d be amazing for everybody.” he whispered “He’s been driving the staff absolutely crazy.” he gave you his studio key and a small wink. “Good luck, I’m gonna go grab a drink” he walked down the hallway back to the lobby.

You unlocked the door to the studio and was floored to see just how cluttered it was. Chan wasn’t exactly the tidiest person in the world but this was beyond ridiculous. Clothes, blankets and pillows covered the couch, the garbage can was overflowing. You were grateful that he wasn’t one for alcohol, energy drinks or caffeine but there was an alarming amount of juice bottles. The sugar probably being the only thing keeping him wired.

Chan turned around hearing the door open. “Changbin, I need you to run your rap through one more time something’s just not-” he stopped and furrowed his brows seeing your face. 

A soft smile formed on his face, he really did miss you. Your beautiful smile, your bright energy always made you his haven, but right now it was a distraction. He needed to finish this song. Seeing you was supposed to be his reward for finishing everything. He wanted you to be proud of him the next time you saw him.

He wanted to be able to present to you his hard work. But right now he had nothing. He had about seven unfinished songs and nothing he was proud of. He didn’t want you to think his hard work was for nothing. He’d been working non stop for six weeks and had nothing to show for it.

“Chris...” you stepped into the room and moved closer to him.

He stood up and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Babe…what are you doing here?” He sighed happily feeling how you fit so perfect against him. How with just the feeling of your small arms around him his anxiety was lifting.

I want to hold you in my arms so bad

Even if I treasure you

You're so precious it isn't enough

You're radiant

The more you shine, the more I tremble as I get closer

“I missed you so much.” You leaned your chin on his chest. “I wanted to go out to lunch…” You missed his warmth, how safe you felt in his strong arms, the way the lul of his heart instantly calmed you. Your eyes softened as he caressed your cheek, running his thumb against your cheek.

“I missed you too, but I’ll take you out when I finish the song.” He kissed your forehead. He intended to pull away but he couldn’t. His lips found your mouth as he pulled you into a sweet, and tender kiss. Your lips moved against his lovingly as he gripped his shirt. It was the most intimate contact either of you had in a long while. He cupped your face, pulling away softly. That would be enough to hold him over. You just had to wait for him. 

 “I’m sorry Babe but there’s still so much I have to do” he reluctantly let you go and moved to sit back at his desk. “I would love to goof off but the guys are counting on me” he slipped his headphones back on and turned his attention back to his laptop.

You gasped, feeling him pull away so suddenly. “Chris…” Watching him get back to work as if you weren’t even there broke your heart. Six weeks of not seeing each other and you got a hug, and an ‘I miss you’ before he just dismissed you. Did he really miss you? Did he even care? You turned away, biting your lip and keeping your tears at bay. It was just so frustrating.

He had already slipped his headphones on and got back to work. You didn’t want your visit for be for nothing. You were hoping to help him in some way. You wanted to get him to take a break but he made it very clear he had no intention of leaving.

You cleaned up the blankets, folding it neatly on the couch and frowned seeing all of your notes and letters you wrote him for encouragement just crumbled in the trash. They were just tossed aside, like they were nothing. 

Like you were nothing. 

You’d seen how he so carefully took care of his letters from Stay’s each one saved and delicately handled. Preserved in a box to later act as motivation for him. And yours just crumbled like they were trash.

Then it hit you. Why were you even doing this?

At the thought of me making you smile

This shaking becomes in a little happiness

Don't know why I'm like this

Even if I pretend to not be bothered

My heart is racing like it'll burst

He turned around and saw that you were still standing there staring at the garbage. “Baby I really need to work, why are you still here?”

“What is this…” you mumbled, your fist tightened. You turned around, tears threatening to spill out. “What are we even doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I…we haven’t even seen each other in weeks and you don’t even care.”

“Don’t start this, we agreed that work comes first.”

“I agreed not to guilt trip you when you have concerts and tours, and you agree to understand when I have to work over time but this isn’t the same thing Chris…you’re just refusing to come home…what about me? where do I fall in your priorities?”

“Is that what this is about? I don’t need this right now! I need to finish the album!” You flinched hearing him raise his voice. He was known to have a bit of a temper but he almost never raised his voice to you. “The guys, the company, JYP, Stays, everyone is expecting me to put out the next big hit. The comeback is in a few weeks and I’m not ready! I don’t have time for you to sit here and just bitch about it!”

“A bitch? is that what I’m being….” you whispered. “I just wanted to see my boyfriend…” tears streamed down your face as you stepped closer to him. “I always support you…I make you food, and bring you clothes, and always encourage you. I’ve always been your biggest fan, but you’re not taking care of yourself… You’re making yourself go mad sitting in the studio all day, you’re pushing yourself too hard and-”

“The only thing making me go mad right now is you! So why don’t you do me a favor and leave!” He kicked over the chair and yelled. “Do us both a favor and get the fuck out! I don’t need this!”

You bit your lip and shook your head “Y-You don’t mean that…” you stepped closer slowly. “Chris…you’re just mad…Let’s just calm down…and we can-”

“Leave! Why are you still here!?” In his fit of anger his hand swung out hitting the can on his desk causing it to fling at you. It flailed past you, hitting the wall.

You screamed from the sudden movement and shielded your face feeling it splash on you. Even though it didn’t hurt you, it scared you enough. All in one day Chan yelled and threw something, he’d never done something like that before and for the first time you can say that you were genuinely afraid of him.

The second it hit the wall it was like his anger began to dissipate. Seeing the fear in your eyes he stepped closer but you stepped back and let out a yelp, cringing as he lifted his hand toward you. He just meant to caress your face, but you wouldn’t let him get that close. You couldn’t look at him, you were almost frozen in fear, you just couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He called out your name in a soft desperate whisper, but you shook your head. “I’m…I’m sorry, it was an accident...”

There was a loud bang on the door which only caused you to scream again. “It’s just me” Changbin opened the door and let himself in “I heard yelling what-” he looked down at your small shaking form. Tears streaming down your face, you were literally shaking, something splattered on your sundress. ”What the hell happened? Are you ok?”

You pushed past him, sniffling as you ran out of the building. He stared at Chan in disbelief. “What did you do?”

You hurried home going as fast as your feet would carry you. Honestly you should have taken the scenic route, there was nothing to rush home to. Your apartment, far too large holding nothing for you. You sighed looking down, you had been ignoring the pestering feeling that this wasn’t a home anymore. It lacked warmth, life, him. All the memories that you once cherished were nothing but photos on the wall.

You just couldn’t do this anymore. 

You couldn’t be the only one trying.

You packed up your largest suitcase, filling it with as much of your clothes as you could. Anything that couldn’t fit in the suitcase was stuffed in boxes, books, photos, anything that you contributed to this shared apartment. It would have been easier just to pack up Chan’s things since he had a lot less things as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch his stuff or to stay here a moment longer. The apartment looked much colder without your touch. It was as empty as you felt.

Stay with me

Don't hesitate no more (Don't hesitate)

There's no point in speaking

As long as I'm in front of you

Back at the studio Changbin grabbed Chan by his collar. “Chris what the hell was that?!” his grip tightened.

Chan looked down. He regretted the whole situation. He never meant for it to escalate so much, he just didn’t understand why you couldn’t just leave him alone and let him do this for work. He was also aware that the situation looked a lot worse than it was. “I didn’t hit her…” he felt the need to clear it up.

Changbin scoffed. “Do you think that you’d still be standing if I thought for a second that you laid a hand on her?” He wasn’t usually this aggressive, but he had gotten so close to you, and loved you very much. If you were to get hurt because of someone he introduced you to he’d never forgive himself.

“I just…lost my temper…” He grunted pulling away from Changbin. “Why can’t she just let me work?”

“Because she loves you! She wants you to be healthy and happy and sane!” Changbin crossed his arms over his chest. “Because she doesn’t want you to end up making yourself sick”

“She wasn't understanding at all!”

“Oh no the girl that goes out of her way every day to drop off clothes and food for her boyfriend. The girl that understands that you have to go away for weeks or months on end for work and never complains about it. The girl that understands that you get annoyed when she comes to see you but she still wants you to have a good meal so she sends Felix to deliver it. That girl? Are we talking about the same girl? The girl that came all the way down here just because she wanted a little lunch date. Could you really not give her that? A few hours to show that you still love her.” Changbin scoffed. “She’s way too good for you…”

Chan looked down and clenched his fist. He never realised how good you were being to him, how kind. He just got spoiled by your understanding nature. He took advantage of the situation. “I messed up…I really fucked up…I yelled at her…I scared her….” he looked at Changbin. “She was really scared of me.”

“You’re going to lose her…” He sighed “And since I care about her well being that doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea.” He turned away. “Either fix it, or sit here sitting in you own self pitty..I can’t fight your battle…not this one.”

It still took another two days before he made it back home. Somehow he did manage to finish the title track, up to his standard. Jisung and Changbin were going to work on his guide for some of the B-sides and he was going to take some time off. 

He picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a teddy bear to apologize on the way. Unlocking the door he sighed “Babe…I’m home.” he announced as he slipped off his shoes. As he walked into the apartment he looked around frantically. The walls were bare. All of the photos you had were removed, the little plants that you decorated the apartment with were gone, his bookshelf that you filled with all of your favorites was now empty. He dropped the flowers and bear and ran into the bedroom. The bed was neatly made but all of your clothes were gone, half the closet stripped bare. It was like you were never there. As if you completely lifted out of his life.

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

I can't go there, where you are

I can't approach you

A week had passed and he was unable to reach you. You refused to answer his phone calls, your friends, and family refused to tell him where you were. It wasn’t until he caught you leaving your office building that he finally saw you.

You had worked overtime that night just to finish off your workload that you were slacking on. You’d been staying at an airbnb for an extended stay while you looked for an apartment. The rest of your things in storage at your parents place. It wasn’t permanent, but this transitional period felt good. Like you were finally doing something to take back your life. You froze hearing your name being called, knowing the voice all too well. He grabbed your wrist softly, pleading for your attention. He turned you to face him. He looked so sad, you just weren’t prepared to see his face like that. “Chris let me go…”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m surprised you noticed”

“I came home and you weren’t there…”

“You told me to leave.” You yanked your hand back from him.

“Leave the studio. Not my life.” He looked down. “I missed you…I didn’t know where you were… if you were safe… I was so worried.”

You sighed. “It only took me leaving for you to get that….All the nights I spent alone…you didn’t even care. When you were locked away in the studio you didn’t know if I was home safe, and you know what Chris? You didn’t care”

“I care!” he groaned, not meaning to yell at you. “I care…I always care…I’m so in love with you… please…just give me a chance to explain everything …please…even if it’s the last chance please…just…give me this..”

Every time I meet you

I shake, shake

Your voice echoes loudly in my head

Saying I can do even better

I boldly shout

I know too well that chances only come once

I'll do anything for you

*So that you can believe in me*

You sighed deeply before leading him back inside your office, borrowing one of the empty meeting rooms giving you two some privacy. This wasn’t the kind of talk you wanted to have publicly and you’ll be damned if you ever returned to that apartment again. Sitting across the table from him you gave him the coldest look you could muster. Arms crossed over your chest as you glanced at your watch. “Talk”

He looked down, trying to find the courage to speak.  “I’m sorry…it’s just…you’re so good to me…you’re beautiful…and kind…and you love me more than I deserve…” he sighed. “Changbin’s right…he’s always been right about you being too good for me..but I figured if I worked hard then maybe one day I’ll be good enough for you too.” He buried his face in his hands. “I”m not good with relationships…I’m fucking horrible at them…You’re the only one to ever put up with me this long…I was just so scared of disappointing you..scared that you’d realize that I’m not good enough”

Your eyes softened hearing him pour his heart out to you. This was new, he never opened up this much. He just bottled things up, put on a happy face for the sake of others. This was deep rooted and he never addressed it before.

“I…I figured if I stayed busy…I could never get into a fight with you…we would appreciate the time we had together…no fighting, no anger, just happiness…If I stayed in the studio and work hard then I’ll have something to prove to you that I’m good enough...Make a new album and get wins… it’s not just for you but for Stays, the guys… I have to prove to all of you...”

Placing your hand on the table, you leaned closer. Not touching him, but the gesture was huge. It showed that you were more open to him. “Why…why do you think you have to do this? There’s not a single person that doesn’t think you’re good enough. Stays...The guys...I...we all love you more than you can imagine”

He gazed up sadly. “Because…when you gusy realize I’m not good enough you’ll all leave me too...I fuck up everything good in my life…and you’re the best thing that’s happened…and you stayed…And then you left...” he slowly reached out and tried to take your hand, only if you were accepting. Seeing how you didn’t pull away he held your hand. “I wanted to beg for you back…but then I realised how better off you are without me…that if you truly love someone you let them go…a good man would let you go.”

Your eyes softened hearing that. You could feel his grip slipping on yours. You opened your mouth to say something, but you could find the words. His hand lingered on yours, not quite wanting to let you go, and to be honest. You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to fight for you, that’s all you ever wanted.

You needed him to try.

“I’m not a good man…I’m a selfish man…a man that loves you and can’t be without you..” He took your hand in his again before pressing his lips to it. “I promise…I’ll treat you better next time…no more tears…I’ll work less…I’ll cherish you better…I’ll be the man that deserves you…I” he stopped himself taking a deep breath, holding on to your hand for dear life. “I don’t know if I can be perfect but I’ll try-I’m trying”

“Chris…this can’t happen again…I love you…I really do…but…I love myself too much to let you hurt me that much again…”

“I promise! I won’t ever hurt you again…I know I’m a fuck up…but with you…I can be more than that…you make me better…I need you.”

You leaned closer taking his cheeks into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me…you are not a fuck up. You are good enough…I love you.”

“I love you more” he leaned in pulling you into a kiss. “Come home please…” he whispered against your lips.

“Then make it feel like a home again…” you whispered back, pressing your forehead against his.

“I will…for you I’ll do anything..” he smiled softly leaning against your touch just enjoying your feeling. The feeling that made him feel whole again. He had always put his music first, it was about time he started prioritizing the very person he does all of this for. His motivation, his love, his inspiration. It all came from you, and he was going to prove how important you were to him, even if it took him a lifetime. 

Because you were worth it.

I'm stuck with a phobia

Although I want to stay with you

I'm stuck with a phobia

End.

You guys ever think about your ult and they’re just so perfect you make yourself sad over imaginary situations? Ok cool, I’m not alone. 

Also please  forgive any mistakes, or typos it’s 3am and I have to be up for work in three hours, so I’ll edit it later

Also If anyone wants to be part of my permanent tag list let me know, you’ll get alerted any time I post a new story. As of right now I’m only a Skz writer so if that’s your vibe lemme know~

Once again this is another fic I wrote like 5yrs ago and re-wrote it for this

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@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo

[picassho-18]

Art of Fire

Zuko x Reader; Part 1; 1.2k words

A/N: disclaimer! I have not read the comics set after the finale, but this is set a little after Zuko’s coronation

Summary: The recently crowned Fire Lord Zuko meets a new friend of his Uncle’s, a special fire bender that quickly grabs his interest over a cup of tea and the discussion of the arts. 

ALL CURRENTLY POSTED PARTS: Part 1   Part 2   Part 3    Part 4

Of course you had a favorite tea shop. What proper Fire Nation citizen didn’t? The place held a piece of your heart, the owner being a kind, wise man that immediately turned into a friend, by the name of Mushi.

You had met him when you were creating some artwork at your little studio, open to the public. You used your fire bending skills to burn images and create artwork onto panels of wood, and when walking by he became completely in awe, watching your process intently. He had told you that “Using fire to create is something truly marvelous” calling you a “true bender”. You weren’t really understanding him, but felt it was a nice complement. 

Afterwards, when you had finished he invited you to his tea shop just down the road, beginning a tradition of afternoon tea and conversation every day.

He would tell you stories of his travels, how he used to have a tea shop of his own in Ba Sing Se, then moved to the Fire Nation to follow his nephew. Oh how he always talked about his nephew.

You didn’t know who his nephew was, the man would never use names, only the stories, yet it felt like you knew him by association. The way the man spoke, he seems to love his nephew like a son. 

“Tell me more about Ba Sing Se?” you asked Mushi one day, sitting at your favorite table. The tea shop was slower then normal so he was able to sit and chat with you.

“It was a simple yet stressful time. My nephew was undergoing a troubling and harsh change that caused a lot of inner turmoil. He is about your age, and was facing his childhood that conflicted with his present. It was very sad for me to watch, but you can only lead a horse to water. But never could you force it to drink.”

You smiled, Mushi always liked sayings, he seemed like the wisest person you knew, a man that had undergone his own struggles and came out better. 

“I hope I can meet your nephew one day. I wonder what a man can become with you as his mentor.”

“Well thank you, that was very kind of you to say. But you are also in luck. I had asked him to visit me today and should be stopping by soon!” he said it excitedly, a proud smile on his face, like he was thinking of what his nephew had become.

“Ah, then I look forward to meeting him,” you said slightly shyly. You didn’t want to admit it to his uncle, but this mysterious man that he always discussed had always appeared intriguing to you.

Interrupting your thoughts, Mushi spoke, “Ah there he is!” right as the chimes on the door began to ring. You stood up from the table and turned towards the front. You gasped out loud, shocked to see the newly crowned Fire Lord Zuko, his armour and scar an immediate indicator to who it was.

You let out a quick “Oh my god” before quickly bowing, showing your respect while all the pieces clicked together. You side eyed Mushi, but realizing that wasn’t Mushi, it was the Dragon of the West, the great General Iroh.

You stood up right, watching as the Fire Lord walked up to his uncle, embracing him in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry it’s been so long Uncle! It has been very busy at the Capitol.”

Iroh just waved him off, “It is no worry. I have been keeping excellent company with Y/N, the fire-painter I have told you about.” Your face grew warm, seeing the Fire Lord’s dark eyes locked onto yours.

Iroh turned, addressing you, “This is my nephew, Zuko.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Fire Lord Zuko.” you bowed again slightly. You were slightly scared and very awkward; you have never been in front of actual royalty before. And really attractive royalty at that.

“No need for all the formalities. A friend of my Uncle is a friend to me. Just call me Zuko.” He sat down at the table, motioning for you to join him and his uncle. You smiled shyly, and sat, avoiding eye-contact with him. It seemed like his eyes never left your face, his gaze unwavering until his uncle cleared his throat.

“How is my lovely nephew doing?” Iroh asked, a knowing smirk appearing on his face when he noticed how Zuko was looking at you.

“I’m doing good. Aang has stayed in the capitol to help me gain contact with the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes. Politics has become very slow and hard work, Uncle.”

Iroh chuckled, “Yes, Zuko. The unification after a war is always hard. But never impossible. I believe in you.” You nodded in agreement. Knowing the struggles he has had to face in his past due to his talkative Uncle, you had complete faith in his ruling.

“So Y/N, I have heard excellent things about your artwork” he began, nodding to his Uncle. “He has been practically gushing over you the past few months whenever I visit.”

“Why thank you” you beamed, the praise warming your heart, “It is a passion of mine. I was never taught how to fight with my fire bending, yet I loved creating so I turned toward what I call fire-painting.” A smile shined on your face, thinking about the pieces you have created, getting lost in thought. Little did you know that a certain Fire Lord was staring at you, taking in the soft expression on your face.

Iroh turned to Zuko, “Nephew, I was thinking it would be excellent  if you commissioned a piece for the Royal Palace. She had made that one for me!” he gestured to the wooden panel that had an elegant image of tea burned into it.

Zuko looked at the art appreciatively, “That is beautiful work. I would love it if you could come to the Palace and create one. But only if you want to, of course.”

You grinned, “It seems like your uncle is one of my biggest fans” you flashed a grateful smile at Iroh, “And of course, it would be my pleasure.”

A guard came into the store, alerting Zuko. “Fire Lord, there seems to be an urgent matter at the Royal Palace, and you are needed.”

Sadness flashed on his face, before he quickly stood up, “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Y/N, and promise I will visit more often, Uncle.”

As he began to walk out of the shop, he turned, a glint in his eyes, “Oh, Y/N, please come by the Palace whenever you have a chance, I would love to finalize a commission.”

“Of course. I look forward to it.” you said.

As he left, Iroh clapped a hand on your shoulder. You turned to him, a look of disbelief on your face, “Iroh! In all the amount of time that I knew you, not once did you ever mention that your nephew was the Fire Lord!”

“I didn’t think it was important.” he said, chuckling. “What I do think that’s important, is how much you like my nephew.”

You gasped slightly, “What no, not at all!” but failing miserably to sound convincing.

“Of course, Y.N. Of course.” he smirked knowing, as if a plan of his was finally coming together.

***

Read Part 2 HERE

Tags:

@catraismygf

@writers-thoughts09​

@furblrwurblr​

[namjoonchronicles]

tumble | yg

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, slight smut at the end

↳ words 5k ↳ summary preparing for close friend’s wedding gifts is a given for young married couple. an unexpected encounter with an old flame led to an unwanted rekindled feelings but karma reminds you who your heart truly belongs to, because it’s all about the actions, not words.  ↳ notes this i wrote during first week of university of my final year, trying to run away from responsibility. midway, my friend @hellotherehoneybee​ was having a difficult week at hers too, so i wrote this extra fluff for her, i hope she noticed. thank you for working so hard! (i wish someone would comment on the work i put on the banners of each of my stories, but nevermind) ↳ warning attempts of infidelity (not by you) ↳ song ‘happiness is a butterfly’ lana del rey

Nimble fingers punched the numbers on the passcode pad, just outside the door. Crumpled papers on the floor. Supreme skateboards stacked on the wall. Yoongi walked in, greeted by a line of guitars at the corner of his studio. His attention was on the phone, preferring to text over calling. His face was shone by the light from it. His feet kicked away the crumpled papers on the floor to get to his computer. There’s a frame of baby breath on his table next to his stationery. A picture of you next to his desktop. Bothered by the melody he endlessly replayed in his head, he plans to record the notes in digital form. He hasn’t decided which work of his he wanted them in, but any of it would be just fine. Today, he is expecting a guest that will contribute to the guide. Jimin springs in first, as usual.

“Why do you lock the door knowing that I’m coming?!” Jimin groaned outside the door. He is leaning against the frames, knocking repeatedly.

This is exactly why he had those locks put up. Several young producers lined up. Yoongi is teaching them how to make music. With a wry look and dry greetings, Yoongi invited them in and started the meeting. The project is rather simple. Yoongi has provided a raw sample to the aspiring producers who will try to make lyrics. These melodies are then sung by Jimin. Yoongi whipped out his sample from his computer and he will give exactly 30 minute for the producers to think of ways to make the music a song. The young producers wrote down notes given by Yoongi. They write and they erase. They wrote and erased. Write. Scratch. Write. Scratch.

Noticing this, Yoongi gave a soft smile. It reminded him of himself when he was just starting. The uncertainty, the overwhelming feeling of not knowing if the lyrics are good enough, or just plain dumb. As an underground rapper with social anxiety, he was afraid to be ridiculed the most, and he is pretty sure that these producers have the same fear. What he is about to say is nothing new. In fact, he advises it frequently in his lectures. Clearing his throat and with the aura of a seasoned lyricist, he said,

“Go with your gut feelings. Understand the feel of the sample and what you could derive from it. Let your mind run wild. First rule of writing music is that there are no rules.”

He emphasizes on creativity. Jimin was trying to write the lyrics too. He wanted to learn to write faster. “Jimin, your problem is that you’re a perfectionist…” Yoongi spat, “Your mind goes haywire at the possibility of writing everything, you have no clear direction. That’s why it’s so hard. You select a theme, and you stay on it…”

“But Namjoon…” Jimin began.

“Namjoon is a genius. His diction is out of this world, and he has been writing lyrics for years. Don’t compare yourself to him or rather, learn with him rather than coming to me, uninvited,” Yoongi swivels in his chair as the three other producers hang their head low.

Jimin puckered his lips and muttered curses under his breath.

Yoongi reaches for the journal he kept by the book rack. When he opened them, a warranty card fell out. He crouches down to get them. It was from the phone you bought. He caught you buying a phone on an online store when he returns to the studio, earnestly picking a good one. You even asked him about these specs and technology terms you don’t know about. Some of it was written down as notes in this journal along with his own scribbles of song lyrics. You wanted to buy a phone for your mom and pretend that it was from your dad. Your mom always complains that your dad never gave her gifts and is reluctant to spend money on her. Yoongi didn’t need the extra information but you gave it to him anyway. Yoongi learnt from you that your mother had been using the same phone for a decade, and nothing can be updated anymore. And because your father isn’t doing anything about it but think about himself, you decide to buy your mom a good new phone. Saving your father’s face by pretending it was him who bought it.

You didn’t know this but, Yoongi fell in love with you once more.

That phone comes with a warranty card that is now made its home in his old journal. You know he wouldn’t throw any of his journals away.

Glancing at the digital clock on his shelf, he wondered, just how his favorite person in the world is doing…

Yoongi entertained questions from his students. Explaining the build up, the body, climax and ending. Sharing what is fun and what is not, in writing music. What’s cliché and what’s attention grabbing. But his explanation was cut halfway when his phone vibrated, and swiped his thumb over the caller ID and answered with a small, “Hello?”

Jimin and the students studied his face. At first, Yoongi seemed pretty laxed, and then he stood up, abruptly. Instantly and visibly tensed.

“Where are you?” Pause, “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right over…” He grabs his coat from the hanger and his tongue glides along his drying lips upon ending the seemingly urgent call. He appears distressed but it is masked by his calm exterior.

“Is something the matter, hyung?” Jimin asked. “I have to leave, I am sorry because I  have to cut the classes short. Make sure you email me the verses by noon tomorrow. I will deduct marks for late submissions…” Yoongi said in one breath and yanked the door open, had them leave the studio at once and locked them.

Namjoon was standing outside the hall, watching Yoongi as he trudges through. The older one was putting on his jacket albeit roughly and as quickly as he could. Namjoon couldn’t even get a proper greeting in return. It seems Yoongi is troubled by something.

Troubled by something is indeed accurate.

A few hours ago.

You thought you made a great choice. It’s what you wanted when it was your wedding, and you’re sure that Jungkook would like it too. Knowing just how obsessed he is with having everything the same color code, the sapphire blue kohiki plates would have fit in right into his kitchen like it’s one of the built-in. Yoongi always thought that Jungkook’s gifts are the hardest to choose because he is picky, but also not very picky. He has specified interest but also not very specified. You know more than anything that Jungkook is neither of those things. Ever since you knew the boy, he had always been grateful for any gifts he was given. It didn’t matter how expensive or how rare, it’s the thought that counts. Many years ago, Jungkook came to your house, when you and Yoongi were still dating, and he frequently used the kohiki bowls you have. He said he liked it. That's how you came to decide that his wedding gift would be just that. For his wife, you don’t really know her well, but you had Yoongi book a Swarovski perfume after recognizing that she frequently carries the fun sized bottle around when she’s out.

“Would you like to also see the latest collection of our Kohiki plates, Mdm. Min?” the salesperson politely addresses you and you thought that simply looking wouldn’t hurt. You after all had time to kill today.

Your hands glide over the impressive finishing of the white kohiki plates, truly in awe of the time and the craftsmanship involved in making this. They came in many sizes and as you narrowed down to the end of the gallery, you recognized a collection so similar with the one at home. You turned to the salesperson with a beaming smile, almost child-like. The man bowed at you and explained to you how this particular collection was especially sought after and high in demand, they decided to keep it in collection. Yoongi’s personal family collection had been imitated countless times in the past centuries, they eventually trademarked the design to be named, Empire Min’s timeless collection. It had served countless royalties in the whole world and the tableware was of grand prestige. Sometimes, it dawns over you that you married quite an incredible man with a lineage of such esteem, comparable to those of aristocracy.

Min Yoongi’s family may have stranded far from the royals now, but the traces are there. His delectable face, porcelain skin and honey-succulent voice, are as good as a blue bloods’. His family registrar was kept in the national museum and you had a glimpse of it during Chuseok every year, where they pay homage to his ancestors and it’s quite unbelievable that something from centuries ago was still available today. You didn’t ask a lot about how his family branched off the King, but you do know that the surname Min belonged to four most important Queens in the Joseon dynasty. Is that where his beauty originates from?

You smiled to yourself as you saw his signature underneath the gallery as the last few descendants of the Queen.

“The gifts are wrapped up, we will have it shipped personally to Mr. Jeon Jungkook as per addressed…” the salesman ensured you with an assuring voice.

Kohiki plates aren’t cheap to say the least. But Min Yoongi doesn’t like you worrying about it. Much less, he’d rather have you spend his hard-earned money because he doesn’t always know what you like. One last thing, a visit to the gallery with your trustee art enthusiast, Kim Namjoon.

He stride over as he ended the call. He looks everly dashing in those turtlenecks and grey blazer. His pectorals and buff body looks great in it. He wore those glasses that made him look like he was a postdoctoral student. Only he isn’t. He shoves his phone into his breast-pocket and his face shifted from a serious one to a cheeky expression. He presented his arm for you to take and embraced in a small talk with you.

“You just ended your lecture?” you asked him. “It took a little longer than planned, sorry about that…” he chuckles, handsomely.

“This gallery better be lit…” “You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

Namjoon guides you into an exhibition, guarded by several men in black suits and ear-pieces. The whole way there, you realized that there was no one around. It is only given, because Namjoon owns it. It seems he had it shut down for the day, because the most important painting is arriving from Versailles, and he wants nobody to have a look on it. Except you, of course. And it’s easier to do painting shopping without people hustling in and out trying to catch a glimpse of the ‘Kim Namjoon’. Namjoon talked to you about the randomness of things as he introduces to you his favorite works. He was talking about his sudden trip to Paris and how he regrets it, then talking about a wrong purchase and the books he is currently reading. All in a quiet voice, the kind you give to your lovers.

But you know that’s just Namjoon being flirtatious like it’s his second name.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This section of the gallery feels like it’s cut off from the rest. It has been endless modern art since the entrance until a few paintings back. This one felt like it was Rome or the Renaissance. The sculptures and dramatic scenes, the skin tones and flesh, it was a whole other world. You turned to Namjoon, questioning him with your eyes. You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like this type of art.

“I had a change of heart… while trying to understand yours,” he confessed. And it sounded strange because he let those words glide out as if he had no control over it.   He stepped back, pressed his lips together for saying more than he thought necessary, dropped his shoulder and turned to the art he loved.

“I understand it now,” he added, speaking to the frames, “Why do you like them so much… There’s so many stories to tell from each of these characters…”

You remember explaining to him about eyes in realistic paintings. How you wonder what they’ve seen, and what they have experienced. These endless thoughts usually trouble Namjoon, up to when he was about to sleep. You look beyond the surface of this painting and put feelings in them. That’s when he realized that emotions can be painted. Namjoon owed it to you, to having understood himself. And as he explained just how your art classes changed his perspective in life, he introduced to you the painting he thinks fit Jungkook the most. When you saw this painting unveiled before your eyes, you couldn’t agree more. It would look best in his spacious living room. Namjoon watched you as you signed the insurance paper to deliver the artwork. Watching you from afar like this felt foreign. With the history you both had, who would have thought that he would spend his life dreading the future he could have had with you.

It is all too late now.

The ring around your finger isn’t his. Maybe it’s for the better. He couldn’t have cared for you better than Yoongi does.

The most difficult thing about this relationship is, getting stuck between caring too much, and not caring at all.

“So you’ll deliver them to Jungkook’s house soon?” your eyes darted up at him as he approached the table.

“Leave it to me…” he said with a broad smile and dire confidence from a seasoned seller. A billion dollar man like him, could get away with anything with that smile.

Namjoon hooks his finger around the flaps of the door handle of your car and watches you climb in. Winding the window down, he rests his elbows and fixes his eyes on you, a coy smile on his pretty lips. You darted at him a look. A look you’d give to your malice doing little brother to warn him.

“Go on dates, go meet people, Namjoon… How long will you live this way?” “How would you know I’m not meeting people?” “You stacked books in my online bookstore, and still use my Netflix account to watch movies…” “Books and movies are better companions.”

You looked at him through your lashes and in those particular moments of silence, glances were exchanged and feeling somehow attempted to rekindle, however, before it could, you looked away.

“I’m going to Yoongi’s office, I’ll tell him you said hi…” “But I didn’t…” “Goodbye, Namjoon.”

The white Mazda CX-3 glides away, seamlessly. Stopped at the junction, and entered the main road. All these while, Namjoon kept watching. And it seems like, all his life, he had been watching. Because that was all what he was courageous enough to do.

“‘She loved him too early, and he loved her too late…” Namjoon muttered to himself.

At the junctions, your car pulls to a stop as the traffic light turns red. The building you were in were kilometers away but the scent of Namjoon’s body lotion hasn’t left. You always refrain from reading too much anything Namjoon does because you’re not who you were anymore. Your loyalty is with Min Yoongi now and it should be. Rather than feeling like you used to feel for Namjoon, it actually narrows more to pity. Namjoon had it all. He had your endless support, you had been his emotional anchor, and he had taken you for granted for many years. Eventually, you pick up your worth and search within yourself what you’ve given him. What you found out when you peel yourself away from everything that is Namjoon, is the fact that he had given you nothing but his concerns. There was no give and take. All he does is take.

Finding yourself, led you to finding Yoongi.

Yoongi was nothing easy to have. So it daunts you that difficult men might have been your type. Yoongi is rash and dry on his best day and even more harsh and unapologetic than anyone you have ever met. It came to a point where you exploded, thinking that even as life swallowed you whole and his arms was the only thing that could save you, you’d rather be swallowed whole. When Yoongi heard such a damning insult to his being, he got even. As harsh as Yoongi appears to be, he was a softie right under the flesh. Under his blank expression and inattentive eyes, he is all soul and bones. The more you know him, the more you realize that you both are strikingly alike. From the way you solve problems to the way he speaks, you both are a lot more common than you are different.

He is so intelligent and witty and blunt. You can ask him about literally anything and he always has an opinion about it. Because of his wide arrays of interest, you can never run out of topics to talk about. He is a great fun, and always adventurous although he prefers to whine about it at first. He said he hates camping but when you forced him to come with you, he looked like he has been camping his whole life. Lit the bonfire within seconds, adapted the forest life and just casually calm. The kind of calmness you hadn’t felt in awhile, you felt in Yoongi’s presence. Camping nights are always so romantic with him playing the guitars and you requesting songs you know he doesn’t know. There will be crinkles around his eyes before he looks down, embarrassed for not knowing that song. Once you give him a listen, he could play by ear.

He is adorable when he is confused or terribly tired. One night, he asked if you would come over his studio’s rooftop to spend time together. He spoke two sentences and fell asleep while you were talking. He unknowingly leaned his head on your shoulder as he dozes off. You brushed his hair away and thumbed his cheeks. His lips pouting cutely as he slept. You sat awfully still for hours, hours that he is still paying off with himself. To this day. It is astonishing how he could look like the cutest little kitty and also looked like he could swallow you whole.

His dangly multi earrings, gorgeous eyes and veiny arms, his multifaceted talents are as endless as his sweet words. Yoongi could make you feel heard without you saying a word.

The pedal planted to the ground, screeching tires and loud crashes. The windows on the driver side shattered and the airbag deployed. Loud ringing in your head as you try to gather your thoughts. What’s happened? You drove ahead a little more, because if you didn’t the road would have been congested. You pressed the hazard light on and parked on the side of the road to avoid other cars.

Hooking your fingers around the car handle, the door was pushed open. The car that collided with you stopped behind you. Your Mazda could continue driving but you don’t want to risk it because the shell of the tire was a little dented. The sharp ends were grazing your tire if you continued. The driver whose car you collided with was eerily quiet but he kept staring at an interval. You gathered your purse and fished for your phone.

“Please don’t get mad…” you huffed, “I got into an accident…” The back of your wrist on your forehead as you looked around in worry.

“I am at a round-a-about pass on Samsung Building 77 street… I’ll send the location,” you breathed, oddly a little calmer than he expected you to be. It all happens too quickly. You weren’t sure who was in the wrong. The last thing you remember was using the signal stick to turn to the right and the car on the right wanted to head to the left, surreptitiously ignoring the signal you gave. It seemed ages for Yoongi to get there, but when he did, he parked a little further and got off the car, jogging to where you are. Your eyes stung and got watery as he came to get you. You were so grateful that he wasn’t angry and in fact, just wanted to know where you were so he could be where you are. He held onto your hand as he went to inspect the car and its damages.

“What are you going to do with my headlight?” the owner of the other car came over, uninvited. Yoongi instinctively pulls you behind him at the forwardness of this man.

“Take it easy, let’s check the dashcam to see who was actually in the wrong, let’s take this to the police station…”

“What police station, it is more than obvious that she was driving recklessly and not paying attention!” The man tried to go over Yoongi to get to you but Yoongi held his palm outward at this rude man.

“Like I said, we will take this to the police station and they’ll decide who is in the wrong and needs to pay for the damages…” Yoongi once again marched against this man and stared dead into his eyes while dialing on his phone. He placed his phone on his ear and continued to warn the man with his body language.

“The insurance company? Yes, I have a car you need to tow. We’re along Samsung 77th Street by the roundabout, how long will you take to get here? 10 minutes, okay…” Yoongi spoke on the phone. You held onto Yoongi’s arm tighter. One hand in his tight grip, the other clawing on his sleeves, slightly below his elbow. Your eyes unfocused. You were biting your lips. Chewing on them.

Yoongi climbed into his car after you. Pressed the car engine on and thumbed your knee. You weren’t as calm now.

“What if it is actually my fault? What if I was the one driving foolishly…?” You stuttered.

“We will let the police decide okay? We hadn’t even seen the footage from the dash cam yet, he could just be manipulating you to think that you were in the wrong, just by the look on his face I know he’s the type to drive like a drunkard and blame people for his mistakes…” Yoongi’s large palm covered your entire knee.

“You want jellies?” he tries to console you. “What about the car?” you looked over the car seat to the view of your stranded Mazda.

“The insurance company will have it towed, don’t worry… It’ll be okay,” he smiles and chuckles lightly, “This isn’t a big deal, accidents happen all the time, honey.”

The car pulled to a stop at the red traffic light, and he extended his arm to gather your hand to kiss your knuckles. You looked at him with watery eyes, full of guilt and despair and you said to him in broken voice,

“I’m so s-sorry… I’ve troubled you,” you bursted into tears, “I just went out to get gifts for Jungkook’s wedding and it all happened so fast…” Yoongi gathered your head in one hand, pulling your face into his nape. He plants kisses on your head and fondly smiles against your hair. . . . .

The police decided to hold the man accountable. He was clearly changing lanes without signals, and he was also ignoring your obvious signals. Not only was he driving past the speed limit at a roundabout in broad daylight, he had the audacity to shift the blames towards you. The dash cam was proof that he was a reckless driver so he had his driving license suspended and he had to pay for damages you faced. Yoongi laced his fingers into the gaps of yours as he turned around from the man. Yoongi smiled smugly and took you out of the police station. With the reports done and you were acquitted from any traffic misconduct, the car insurance company will cater to all the repairing. Yoongi will have to drive you everywhere for now but it wasn’t something he minds doing.

You let go of his hand and proceed to walk to the car, hugging yourself while he watches you from behind. Your steps weren’t hurried, rather they were a bit slow but for some reason you thought it was far better to not hold him. In your head, you are still scolding yourself and knowing you as far as he did, he understood it. He climbs into the car, avoiding eye contact as his index finger sunk into the engine button. You were dazed, looking out the window at everything on the outside. Noticing this, Yoongi stops by your favorite mall. He said he wanted to get some tools and appliances for the sink at home. Every three months, Yoongi would have the sink maintained by pouring cleaning liquid and have it stay there overnight so it won’t clog anytime soon. Usually, when this happens, he would buy dinners outside and take you out for breakfast the next morning.

Both of you once experienced the sink clogging before, and the whole kitchen was flooded with foul-smelling liquid. To make matters worse, Yoongi was away for business in Tokyo, and you had to handle them alone. Some plumbers walked in to help, and even if Yoongi was grateful for their help, he would rather his house be under his maintenance. That's why he keeps a schedule for every heavy duty appliance in the house. This is to avoid unnecessary over spending and inviting unnecessary people inside the house. He has a yearly check for the washing machine, the refrigerator, the electric stove, the air-conditioners and the oven. He is always making sure that everything is safe for you to use.

With the car parked so swiftly, Yoongi joins you in the mall's lobby. There aren’t many people around since it’s weekdays. And as if you remembered that you needed a conversation, you jerked your head up and to the side, at your husband.

“Oh right! You have a class today?” “Sent them home early with an assignment to mark later…”

He pauses, momentarily. Lifting his left wrist for the time, he yanked his sleeve up. He then, out of a sudden let out a sigh,

“Should we have dinner here or…” his voice drawls, “I plan to start on the sink right away when we get home…” “That sounds great, I don’t feel like cooking…”

You lifted your eyes at the elevator door opening before you. Yoongi lets you step in first. You move to the back of the elevator at the corner, by habit and Yoongi joins you. He could see from your face that the accident hadn’t left your mind. So when the elevator arrived at the second floor, instead of the fourth where the hardware stores were, he took your hand and walked out. You didn’t question him right away but you thought it was odd.

“Ice-cream…” he beamed at you.

He ordered your favorite. Waffles, drizzled with chocolate syrup and some fruits. Then you talked about Jungkook’s wedding gifts and plans on that day. He asked you about the venues since you were the one that booked them. You excitedly say that it was in great shape. The venue was a garden, it has this magnificent backdrop of a man-made lake and Jungkook’s fiancé loved the idea of exchanging vows at the view. However, your smile swept away when you spoke about the wedding dress.

“Why?” Yoongi spoke softly. “Because she seemed conflicted to follow what her friends’ recommended instead of what she truly wanted. She texted me yesterday, saying that she hated her wedding dress,” your shoulders dropped. “Why did she hate them?” “Her friends basically forced her to get this dress from a designer they know. From what I heard he was pretty famous, but she originally wanted her old classmate to make one for her. So now she regrets it, because the dress was not her style,” you sighed yet again.

Yoongi looked at you through his bangs and a small smile formed in the corner of his lips. Always taking in other peoples’ problems as your own, always thinking of others and always solving other people’s problems like your own. Yoongi could feel how devastated you were to hear that story first hand, and he is certain, as you were scooping those waffles into your mouth, you are thinking of ways to fix it. Typical. When you make a folded taco, you would take the ugliest one so he could have the prettier sets. When you buy medical supplies, you always make two purchases, one for him. The bigger portion of cake is for him, the larger piece, the better half. Even when you ate something you think is tasty, you would buy one for him at home.

In one ways or another, you are constantly thinking of him. It gives him butterflies. How lucky was he to be able to find you. How can someone look past such a genuinely beautiful person. Inside and out. Whose love is this true and this devoted. Only a dire fool, that is.

From the ways you love him, he is most certain that you haven't changed any part of you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “I bought you something… I saw this at the bookstore, it's a moon and star water globe and I thought it would look good on your studio desk…” You rummaged your bag for the item while your husband sat there, staring at you with a fond smile. Literally, a woman’s bag is a wonder. There’s all kinds of things in there. Receipts from 5 years ago, set of cutleries for travelling, hand sanitizer, tissues, a notepad, a glue gun and candies. Coins.

He picks the old receipts up between his index finger and middle finger.

“Why do you keep these things?” he chuckles. You looked over at him and snatched them.

“Are you worried that a cop may come and ask you, where were you, four years ago at 2:53 pm so you can whip out that receipt from your back and be like, ‘I was at the Hunts Restaurant sir, I had a bento and tea. I have receipts to prove it?’ For your alibi?”

“I might…” you dashed. Half of your head disappeared into the bag, still looking for the globe.

Yoongi picks up Band-Aids, some unopened menstrual pads and coupons from your favorite pizza place that expired four months ago.

“Honestly…” he comments.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, “The globe…”

The globe, like its name, has moon and stars on it. His nimble fingers examined it, closely. You were so expectant of what he’ll say.

“It’s pretty…” he said. “Isn’t it…” you gushed.

You return them into your bag because Yoongi don’t have one. Once again, you reminded him to put them on his table later on. He assures you he will, he even kept it in the car’s dashboard, so that when he returns to the office, he’ll make sure to take it with him. On the ride back home, you fell asleep. He made sure that he went over the bumps on the road gently, making his turns like a grandma on the wheel. He parked the car and waited. Fishing out his phone and he took pictures of you sleeping. He scrolls down messages from work, check on items he bought online, read a few emails...

Then you inhaled sharply, awake. Stretching your fingers.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you mewled sleepily. “Based on experience, you take 10-15 minutes to wake up when the car stops... “ he nonchalantly passed. You smiled at his bluntness. He endured 10-15 minutes of silence with his sleeping wife despite the turmoil he went through today. You couldn’t have married a better man. Even if there was a better man out there, if it isn’t Yoongi, you don’t want him.

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said he wants to work on the sink immediately. You held the torch while he examined the sink. He wants to change the tap and clean the drainage hole. While he was struggling under the counter, you can’t help thinking that you were so fortunate. From how he handles things, to how he comforted you in times of need, to how he is made of husband material, you are certain, that God made this one, especially for you.

When he rolled out from underneath the sink, he caught you daydreaming. And he threw a sheepish smile at you. His thin white shirt is now drenched with spots of sweats on his chest and along his back. And he snarkily say,

“Wanna shower?”

You bit your lips at his remarks, playing coy at his forwardness. When in all honesty, you were down for it. And all the showers you will have in the future. . . .

Deep in you, knees dug into the mattress, between your thighs. His veiny arms gripping hard on the bed sheet. The sounds of heavy paintings, squelching cascaded in the room. He hovers sloppy kisses along your jaws like he was possessed and he said in his husky voice,

“That guy Namjoon… don’t feel right…” “I’ve been meaning to…” hisses in the delectable pain, “Talk about him…”

You propped your elbows up, leaning against it, brushing sweaty skin with Yoongi, you spoke is rasps,

“He said some strange things, so I am going to… delete him.”

Yoongi bit his smile, his porcelain skin glistening with the sweat that drenched him. His hand glides down your torso, with touches so hungry and starved kisses. He drew out a long deep moan, dove his face into your neck, chanted your name like a mantra--like a man standing on the verge of sanity, licking on the taste of infinity. .

.

.

.

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Copyright © February 8th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs makes me happy!

[quillsandtypos]

Smiling in the Background

Summary: Reggie discusses his parents divorce with sunset curve for the first time. The reader opens up to Reggie about their own experience.

Warnings: comfort angst and talk about divorce

Words: 2.4k

Pairings: none but could be interpreted as reggie x reader

...........................................

Reggie knew his place in the group. He was the funny but lovable dumbass. If you needed a laugh you came to him. He was used to being overlooked and underappreciated. But he knew that his friends didn’t feel that way about him, they were always there for him when he needed it, not that he did; but it was still nice to know that they had his back.

But as the boys, and Reggie, grew older things shifted out of place. At their core they still had similar morals and principles to their personalities, but the trauma that they had developed would become a part of them as well.

Alex was first to endure that kind of trauma; when his parents didn’t react well to him coming out, he was devastated. The guys of course had already known about him being gay for years. They comforted him when he came to band practice the next day crying because of his parents' words. The boys promised him that he always had a family with them, a family that accepted him.

Luke was the second. At first the band didn’t know exactly what happened. Luke wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions, and they knew his relationship with his parents wasn’t the greatest at the time, but they didn’t know exactly what happened until they accidentally walked in on him playing one day, completely in tears. Luke told them what had happened and the song that he was writing to cope. By the next week the three had gotten together to write the instrumental to the song. They surprised Luke with it, and it was enough to make him smile, even if it was only for a second.

It took Reggie a long while to even admit to himself what was happening in his world. Something like this couldn’t be happening to him. He was supposed to be the funny guy of the group. How could he be the safe and comforting grounds for everyone else to walk upon when he couldn’t walk upon the grounds himself? He didn’t tell the group for quite awhile, he didn’t want to bother them with his own problems; he knew Luke and Alex were dealing with their own shit.

But he didn’t need to tell him, they knew something was up, long before he did. Words were only spoken about it once. It was a beautiful summer day and they were practicing in the studio. The group was cracking jokes and smiling. Reggie was smiling too, but it was obvious to those that knew him well that it was fake.

“Reg?” spoke Alex.

He forced a smile, “Yeah?”

Alex looked worried, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally!” Reggie lied.

Alex gave him a knowing look and Reggie knew he couldn’t lie to one of his best friends.

He glanced down to avoid eye contact. “It’s kinda a long story,” he murmured.

Alex took a spot next to him on the couch. “I’ve got time, if you want to tell it,” he assured him.

By that point the other two had caught on to the more serious atmosphere, and had turned around to watch.

“Reg you know we’re here for you man, right?” Luke asked, as he gripped Reggie’s shoulder rather tightly.

“Yeah, yeah I know. I just don’t wanna bother you guys, you’re dealing with your own stuff anyways, you probably don’t need my stuff anyways right?” Reggie joked. He forced himself to laugh and smile but no one in the room bought it for a second. They all had somber faces and looked at him through worried eyes.

“Reggie, you are never a bother to us,” Alex reassured him.

Luke nodded.

“Yeah what he said,” Bobby agreed.

Reggie took a look at all of his friends' faces and decided that he would tell them. He told them about how it started off with arguing at night, but it was quiet enough that he could ignore it. Then it turned to comments during the day that they thought he wouldn’t notice, which he did. Then it was screaming so loud in the middle of the night that he could hear it upstairs even with a pillow over his head. He told them everything, and they listened to all of it. Occasionally nodding to let him know that they were still listening. When he was done talking his breath was shaky and there were still tears rolling down his cheeks.

Bobby offered him a tissue box that he gladly took.

After a few moments of silence and them watching him, he felt the need to break it.

“I’m still the funny guy though, so don’t any of you think you can take my place,” he playfully threatened. The group broke into small grins but they quickly faded.

“The funny guy can still be sad. Being funny doesn’t mean the absence of being human,” Alex consoled him.

“Besides, you’re so much more than the funny guy. You’re an amazing friend, a great bassist, and you’re one of the nicest people I know,” Luke continued. Other than when he was talking about his parents, Reggie didn’t think he had ever seen Luke look so serious.

“And you make a mean sandwich,” Bobby added. Alex lightly smacked his leg.

“Ow! I was just trying to make him smile,” Bobby defended himself.

Reggie genuinely laughed at that.

“Thanks guys,” Reggie said, as he looked at all of them.

From that point on it was a said but unsaid thing. Reggie never really talked about it, but the guys knew when the fighting had gotten especially bad that night. They always offered a listening ear but never pushed him. But when Reggie died, he didn’t know what would happen to his parents. He never brought it up, with Caleb and everything it seemed like an unimportant matter.

But when Julie introduced you to the band, that seemed like an important matter to him. Another alive human being could see them, even if they weren’t playing. You came to know all of them fairly well, but you clicked the most with Reggie. He’d sometimes come visit you at school, just to say hello only to poof back out a couple moments later. He’d just sit in your room as you did homework, occasionally interrupting your homework to ask you a question or two about the world nowadays; not that you minded, you enjoyed talking to him.

Today was one of those days, it had been a week or so since Caleb’s stamps had been removed, and you were grateful to even be having a conversation with him.

Reggie already knew you had divorced parents, you had mentioned it off handedly the second week he knew you. Everyone else seemed to brush passed it, but he continued to watch you for a moment, noticing the way you couldn’t make eye contact with him; the same thing he had done, all those years ago.

But it wasn’t until this moment that it was brought up again. You had said something about needing to pack to go to your mom’s house when he remembered.

“Oh right, you have divorced parents too,” he reminded himself.

You realized what he just said. “Wait, you’re parents are divorced?”

Then you realized what you had just said. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” you apologized.

“No it’s okay, truthfully I don’t really know,” he admitted.

You had a curious look on your face, but you said nothing, since it wasn’t any of your business.

He paused for a minute before continuing. “My parents always fought and they seemed to be having a lot of issues right before I died, but when we went to where my house used to be, my house wasn’t there anymore. I don’t know if they ever ended up getting a divorce or not, I just kinda assumed they had,” he explained.

You thought of something but hesitated slightly.

“What?” he asked.

You bit your lip. “Well do you want to know?”

You definitely had peaked his interest. “How could we know?”

“Well I mean it’s 2021, I’m sure we could find them on the internet or in a phone book somehow,” you nervously suggested.

“Sure, but can you do me a favor?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you responded softly.

“Can you find it and just tell me? I don’t think I can take the searching around,” he admitted. He looked so fragile in that moment, like at any second he could break. You immediately agreed. You looked through google using his last name, sifting through anything you could find.

After about ten minutes of searching you managed to find some court proceedings with his last name on it.

“Was this their names?” you questioned as you showed him the names on the paper.

“Yeah,” Reggie responded.

You scrolled through the rest of the papers. You anxiously looked up at his depressed face. “Your parents got the divorce finalized five months after your death,” you concluded.

Reggie sighed, “I guess I was the thing keeping together.” He emphasized the was in his sentence.

You looked him in the eye with a sort of passion that could only be recreated by someone who had gone through similar pain. “Reggie, you can’t blame yourself like that. Divorces are between the parents, it has nothing to do with you.”

“And yet somehow it feels like we're the ones who get hurt the most doesn’t it?” he asked, as he turned to you.

You felt your eyes start to water, “Yeah, something like that,” you agreed.

“Why is it that way?” you wondered aloud.

He turned his body to face you.

“I just mean, why do parents act like we’re unaffected by it and that we don’t get any decisions on what happens to us in the matter, but we’re the ones who have to deal with choices they made,” you ranted.

“You wanna talk about what happened to you?” Reggie offered.

You took one look into his eyes, and you knew you couldn’t stop the flood gates from opening.

A few tears leaked out of your eyes. “It was several years ago, I should just be used to it,” you complained.

“Just because it happened in the past doesn’t mean the pain is in the past.” He looked a little impressed with himself with what he just said.

You smiled slightly at his face. “Yeah, I suppose your right.” You wiped off the tear running down your cheek.

He looked at you to continue.

“But there isn’t much to explain, I have one parent who is a bitch and the other isn’t bad,” you explained. You shakily laughed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I doubt that’s all of it,” Reggie spoke softly. You were vulnerable, and you hated vulnerability. But you knew that Reggie would keep this side of you a secret for as long as you needed him to, that’s what friends are for. And you also knew that he understood your situation better than anyone, he was in the same boat himself.

So you decided to tell him the whole story.

“When I was around thirteen I started noticing things were off, I wasn’t sure of what yet, but there were these little moments where I knew that the fight was getting worse,” you started.

“There were some moments where the events didn’t make sense. I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. There was a barrier coming into play and I didn’t know where it was, but I knew it was there,” you explained.

“I was young, but I knew that my childhood was coming to an end. As a kid you put your parents up on these pedestals, and then divorce hits, and things get uncovered and you realize no one is as high up as you believe them to be. Not that their marriage was ever completely stable anyways, but somethings become natural, no matter how bad they are for you.” Reggie looked at you with watery eyes, he really did get exactly what you went through.

“But as I got older they got worse, but when they told me they were getting a divorce it didn’t really surprise me. I knew they had been fighting for years, and it didn’t come as a shock to most people in my family, so I guess I wasn’t the only one who noticed.”

Reggie held a sad smile on his face for an instant, “They usually tend to know before the parents do.”

“Well they definitely did in my case, and to make matters worse they battled it out in court. Which meant that I had to battle it out in court,” you paused to collect your thoughts and wipe your nose.

“Well I didn’t actually go to the court but I had to fight my own parents to get equal time with the both of them,” you admitted.

“Y/n I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Reggie consoled you.

You squeezed your eyes shut to get the final tears to come out.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago, and I probably didn’t have it as bad as some people,” you reasoned.

He placed his hand on your knee. “A wise person once told me that even though someone’s suffering is worse, it doesn’t erase your own,” Reggie offered.

“That’s really smart, who said that?” you asked.

Reggie thought for a moment before breaking into a large grin. “No idea, but I think they had the right idea though.”

You laughed at that, though he wasn’t wrong, it was a good idea.

You placed your hand on his knee. “Thank you Reggie.”

He patted your leg, “Anytime y/n, anytime.”

“And you know I’m always here for you right?” you promised.

He looked like you had said the most obvious thing of all time. “Yeah, I can poof to you at any time.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, Reg.”

His face grew serious again in acknowledgement. “Yes, I know.”

“So if you ever wanna go find your parents house, you know where to find me,” you offered.

“I will make sure to remember that.”

“Good, then I will see you tomorrow,” you told him, as you got up.

“Not if I see you first!” he yelled out at you.

“You’re a dork!” you yelled back, though you couldn’t deny the smile on your face that replaced the sad one from earlier.

[magicalmarauder]

The Trouble with Love Notes

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3.9k+

Summary: You love showing your boyfriend that you love him by leaving him sweet, little notes for him to find in various places. However, when you overhear him talking to his friends about how clingy and obnoxious they are, how will he respond when those notes suddenly stop? Fluff/angst!

Grabbing the lunch bag on the seat beside you, you clambered out of your car, closing and locking the door behind you before turning to make your way into the studio where your boyfriend was currently working on his latest album. You and Shawn had been dating for about three years now and the two of you couldn’t be happier with where your relationship was at currently. The two of you had overcome a lot in the past few years and although you hadn’t necessarily enjoyed the trials that your love had to undergo, you were grateful that those things had strengthened and molded your relationship into something so beautiful and solid. Your mom had constantly reminded you growing up that when the person is right, those trials and hardships that you encounter suddenly don’t seem so earth-shattering. And that was advice that you had found to be absolutely true. Despite all the distance, rumors, outside opinions from fans, and so many other things, Shawn was the one for you. He loved you, challenged you, protected you, and encouraged you so well. Being his and being loved by him made up for all the bad days. He was your perfect counterpart and you were his.

However, as much as you loved that incredible man, one thing you decidedly did not love was his forgetful nature. You swore that boy would forget his own head if it wasn’t physically attached to his body. Hence, the reason why you were rolling up in front of the studio on your lunch break to deliver the lunch he had forgotten at home earlier that morning.

Shaking your head softly as you considered your boyfriends forgetful habits, you couldn’t help but be grateful for this particular instance. Because although you had to drive down here to deliver Shawn’s food so he wouldn’t go starving when trying to create another incredible album, you relished any extra opportunity to see him. With his crazy schedule that often took him to the opposite ends of the planet, you were thankful for the times he was close and you could pop in and see him, even if it was just for a short visit.

Opening the door, you smiled as you heard the sound of soft piano music playing and laughter as Shawn sat with his friends and co-creators of this album, attempting to envision lyrics to match this awesome melody they had created the other day.

Standing in the doorway, not wishing to interrupt, you merely watched your boyfriend, loving how passionate he was about his music. It was incredible to see him perform his songs and interact with his fans, but you secretly preferred this aspect of Shawn’s job even more. For one, it meant he was usually close to you, the studio he wrote in being only a few short blocks from your shared apartment. But mostly, you loved seeing him create. He possessed so much talent, for sure, but you just loved seeing him pour his heart into his songs and to see the smile on his face when he would nail a melody or put together lyrics that perfectly portrayed what was in his heart. You couldn’t really describe the feeling you got when watching him in his element, you just knew that your heart never failed to swell with love and pride at seeing him like this.

Your admiration was cut short however when Brian, who had been lying on the couch and throwing a tennis ball up and down in the air while listening to Shawn softly sing various different lyrics in search of the perfect one, noticed you standing there and greeted you. “Y/N! Welcome to Studio a la Shawn! What brings you here today?”

“Someone forgot their lunch,” you explained, holding up the bag with you as evidence.

“Aww,” Brian hummed in understanding. “Wouldn’t want our favorite rock star going hungry, now would we?” He grinned.

You returned the sentiment, chuckling softly. “No, of course not,” you teased, looking over to Shawn who had stopped playing and turned around to face you at the first mention of your presence.

“Ok, ok, enough you two,” he rolled his eyes, standing up and crossing the room to greet you.

You grinned up at him as he reached you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to himself. “Thank you for bringing me my food again, baby. What would I do without you?” He questioned, soft brown eyes boring into your own eyes.

“Starve, probably,” you teased, smiling innocently up at him.

He rolled his eyes as Brian barked out a laugh behind you two before pressing a quick peck to your lips and grabbing the bag out of your hands. “Are you going to stay and eat with us?” He questioned, going to place the bag down on a nearby table before returning to your side.

“No, I can’t,” you responded, heart melting at the pout he gave you in response. “I have to get back to work. I’m swamped today and have to get back soon if I want to get out at a decent hour tonight.”

Shawn sighed, disappointed, but understanding that your job was just as important as his and that it needed to come first sometimes.

“Ok,” he nodded. “Next time.”

“Definitely,” you agreed, lifting up onto your tip toes to press another kiss to his lips, smiling as he deepened the kiss, ignoring the groans and protests from the boys behind you.

“I’ll see you tonight, ok?”

“Ok,” you grinned, reaching up to press one last kiss to his cheek before stepping out of his grip.

Before walking out, you called out a goodbye to the team in the studio, receiving a mixture of responses in return. Smiling to yourself, you made your way back toward the front of the building where your car was parked, now re-energized to finish your work and get home to the love of your life. However, right as you were about to climb into your car, you remembered that you had forgotten to ask Shawn what he wanted you to pick up for dinner on your way home tonight. Contemplating whether you should go back in or simply shoot him a text, you re-locked your car, opting to go in and ask, hoping to maybe sneak in one more quick kiss before heading out.

As you made your way back into the studio, you were stopped dead in your tracks when you heard one of the recording artists you didn’t know quite as well mention your name, followed by several snorts of laughter. Unable to help yourself, you stopped in the hallway, trying to hear what was said of you that had garnished such a reaction.

“Does wittle Shawn need love notes from his mommy?” You heard one of the boys mock, making kissy noises.

Peeking your head around the corner, remaining careful to keep out of sight, you saw Shawn sitting at the table with his lunch opened in front of him and the boys gathered around him as one waved a piece of paper around, a scrap of paper that you had placed in Shawn’s lunch for him to find that morning.

One of your top love languages had always been words of affirmation and giving gifts, so you had combined those traits into one, loving to give encouraging notes to friends and family. It was something you had always done for as long as you could remember. Meeting and dating Shawn had only given you your favorite recipient in which to bequeath these little notes to. It was something you had done randomly when you had first started dating. Shawn had gotten home that day and kissed you silly, claiming that your note had given him the perfect pick-me-up in the midst of his very busy, stressful day and you had been leaving notes for him to find ever since.

“Shut up, man,” Shawn grumbled, ripping the paper from the guys hands and placing it in the front pocket of his skinny jeans, safety out of reach of any of the other men in the room.

Shawn’s flushed cheeks only seemed to encourage the group; however, as their teasing only picked up.

“Enough!” Shawn finally shouted. “It’s not like it’s my fault. I didn’t ask for her to leave these annoying little notes! She’s just clingy and can’t get it through her head that I don’t need her to constantly be up in my business all the time!” He scowled. “I didn’t ask for her to do this, man. But how am I supposed to tell her that she’s being obnoxious? That’s just not something you say to your girl!”

You were frozen in shock, unable to believe the words you were hearing from your boyfriend’s mouth. Shawn had never given you any reason to believe that he found your notes annoying. In fact, you had thought he quite liked them. Given his reaction after receiving the first one, you thought he found it cute? When did that change? Insecurity began to fill your heart and mind as you thought back to every note you had left Shawn and how he had responded. When he thanked you and insisted on how adorable you were for reminding him of your love through surprise, written notes, had he been lying? Did he really think you were clingy and obnoxious?

Unwilling to stick around any longer to find out more of his thoughts on this subject, you turned on your heel and strode out of the room. If he didn’t like your notes, you wouldn’t write them anymore. It was as simple as that.

. . .

The following day, Shawn was once again in the studio, him and his team still trying to nail down the lyrics to one of the final songs on the album. They had made such incredible progress, but had seemed to hit a road block this week. After an intense morning of writing and re-writing different lyrics in an attempt to find the perfect verses, the team had decided that taking a much-needed lunch break and reconvening in an hour would be best.

Opening the lunch that his beautiful girlfriend had packed him that morning, a small smile formed on his lips, knowing that you usually left him a cute little note to find. It had been a tough morning of constant frustration and disappointment as the spark was lacking from the song. A note from you was just what he needed. However, guilt tugged at his heart as he remembered the conversation from yesterday. Matt had seen the paper fall out of his lunch bag yesterday and had been quick to snatch it up, reading it aloud and proceeding to mock him along with the other guys. In embarrassment, Shawn had lashed out and said words that were completely false. He made it sound like he hated your sweet notes, when in fact they filled his heart with so much joy, knowing that his girl loved him enough to take the time and write about how much she loved him and how proud she was of him and to remind him that she believed in him, always.

Digging through the bag, Shawn frowned when he came up empty. No note. That was odd, he thought.

Although, the more he thought about it, the more he remembered how rushed you were this morning. Rationalizing in his mind that you were probably just busy this morning and didn’t have time, he pushed away the thoughts of worry and dug into his food, joining in with the conversation around him.

. . .

About a week later, Shawn was sitting in your living room, leg anxiously bouncing up and down as he waited for you to get home from work. It had been a week now of no notes in his lunch. No notes left for him to find on the fridge in the mornings. No sweet “I Love You” messages scrawled on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick. And it wasn’t only that. You had been quieter. You weren’t as easily affectionate as you had once been with him. You were more reserved. Distant. And it scared the living hell out of him. You were the love of his life. He didn’t think he could live without you. Had your feelings for him changed? Had his crazy lifestyle finally caught up with you? He didn’t think he could handle that if it had.

At first, he had simply written these subtle changed in your behavior off, but he couldn’t do that anymore. He knew something was wrong and he was determined to find out what so he could fix it.

His head snapped in the direction of the door as he heard your key turn in the lock.

He stood up as you stepped through the door, hanging your coat up on the hook and placing your purse and keys on the table by the entryway. He bit his lip as he watched you, silently running through the words that he wanted to say to you.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured.

You looked up, slightly surprised to see him home already and standing poised in the living room waiting for you.

“Hi,” you responded cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he reassured. “I just wanted to talk,” he murmured, wringing his hands together nervously. “Can you come here and sit with me?”

Your own anxiety spiked up at that statement. Uh-oh. That didn’t sound too good.

Slowly, you made your way over to him, taking a seat and angling your body so that you were facing him.

Shawn reached out and took one of your hands in both of his and taking a deep breath. “Baby, before I say anything else, I just want you to know how much I love you, okay? You know that, right? That I love you.”

You nodded. “Of course, Shawn. I know that. I love you too.”

Shawn let out a breath, nerves easing slightly at the reassurance of your love for him.

“And you would tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He questioned earnestly, eyes seeking yours for something you weren’t aware of.

You nodded hesitantly, still unsure as to where this conversation was going.

“Then honey,” Shawn began. “What happened to my notes?”

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “Your what?”

“My notes!” Shawn exclaimed, voice raising slightly in panic as he let his confusion, frustration, and hurt slip into his tone. “The ones you leave me everywhere! In my lunch, on the fridge, in the bathroom, everywhere! They’ve stopped! And that’s not all,” Shawn continued, now on a roll. “You’ve been distant! You’ve been quiet at night. You don’t cuddle me in bed like you used to. Sweetheart, what did I do?” He begged. “Tell me, honey. Tell me and I’ll fix it right now. I love you! I’d do anything for you, you know that! Just . . . just, come back to me!” He begged, voice breaking and breaths coming hard as all his fears came tumbling out of his mouth like an uncontrolled waterfall.

You stared at your boyfriend, mouth slightly agape. Whatever you had been expecting, that certainly wasn’t it.

“You - you miss my notes?” You questioned, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Yes!” Shawn breathed. “Of course, I miss your notes, honey! Why would you ever doubt that?” He pleaded, squeezing your hand and inching closer to you so that your legs were brushing against one another.

You looked down, mind racing as you tried to discern what was true. Did Shawn mean what he was saying? Or was he simply worried you were pulling away and just using the lack of love notes as an example?

“I heard you,” you whispered, glancing up quickly before looking back down, not really wanting to let Shawn know you had been eavesdropping on his conversation last week, but seeing no way around it.

“Heard me when, sweetheart?” Shawn questioned, lifting a hand under your chin and gently tilting your face up, searching your eyes for answers.

You blew out a long, slow breath. “Last week,” you finally admitted. “When you forgot your lunch and I came to drop it off at the studio. After I left, I remembered that I needed to ask what you wanted for dinner that night. So, I came back in, but before I could, I overheard apart of your conversation.”

Shawn paled as realization sunk in and he recalled exactly what conversation it was that you had overheard and what words had been said. “Honey . . .” he trailed off, words failing him as he didn’t even know what to say. God, he was such a jerk. How could he say such blasphemous lies about you? His sweet, perfect angel. And now to know that you had overheard him saying such false things about you. It broke his heart, but he had no one to blame but himself.

Mistaking his silence for something else, you began to ramble. “It’s ok if you do think that,” you began. “You’re entitled to your own opinion and if you think that something I do is clingy and obnoxious, just tell me. Don’t make fun of me behind my back with your friends. I can take it, I promise.”

Shawn shook his head, becoming increasingly more angry with himself as he realized that his senseless words had caused you to doubt not only yourself, but his love and appreciation for you. “Sweetheart, stop,” he interrupted. “I love your notes. I love knowing how much you care. Those notes make my entire day.”

You looked down, unsure as to whether he was telling the truth or simply guilty at the fact that he had been caught.

Shawn, seeming to sense your hesitation, again lifted your chin so that he could look you in the eye. “Baby, I’m telling you the truth, I promise. The guys started ragging on me and I got embarrassed. And in my embarrassment, I lashed out and said some really stupid, untrue things,” he explained, shifting even closer to you on the small couch and moving his hands so that they were now cupping your cheeks, forcing you to keep your attention on him. “But I never should have let their teasing get to me,” he continued. “I am so unbelievably proud to have you as a girlfriend and so lucky to be so freely and openly loved by you. You have to believe me, baby. Say you believe me, please.”

Searching his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerely. But still, you hesitated. The hurt from that conversation still lingering in your mind and in your heart. You wanted to believe him so badly, but the sadness of this last week wouldn’t just wash away so easily.

Tears welled up in Shawn’s eyes as he took notice of the internal battle going on in your mind, heartbroken that he had caused you to doubt him and his affection for you. Wracking his brain for some way to get you to believe him, his eyes lit up as he remembered something he had secretly been collecting since the beginning of your relationship and something that followed him on tour always to help him in those tough moments of missing you.

“Wait right here, I’ll be right back!” He exclaimed, as he jumped up from the couch and raced up the stairs, sprinting into your bedroom and pulling out the small scrapbook that he had stored in his suitcase underneath the bed.

Running back down the stairs, he returned to the living room and sat back down next to you on the couch, placing the small book in your lap.

“What’s this?” You questioned, looking up at him in confusion.

“If you have any doubts that I love receiving your cute, little notes, this should reassure you,” he smiled softly. “I take it with me whenever I leave for tour, anytime I’m going to be away from you for any period of time. To reassure myself that you’re here and you love me and that you’re always in my heart, even when I may be physically distant from you.”

Giving him a look, you hesitantly opened the book and gasped when you saw the first note you had ever written to Shawn staring back up at you. You raised your head, gazing at your boyfriend in disbelief. He smiled and nodded at the book, silently encouraging you to keep exploring its contents.

Flipping through the pages, you found more of your notes. They ranged from simple I love you’s to long paragraphs explaining why you loved him as well as quick encouragements cheering him on before important shows or award ceremonies. Reaching the end of the book, you found the note that you had given him just last week, the last one you had written, and the one that had spurred on the fateful conversation that had ended those very notes.

“I’ve saved every single note you’ve given me,” Shawn murmured, grabbing the book and placing it on the table so that he could grab onto your hands. “I love stumbling upon your words of love and encouragement to me throughout the day, whether that be in my lunch, my jacket pocket, or any of the other creative locations you’ve managed to stash them,” he chuckled.

You cracked a smile at that, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“So, believe me, honey, when I tell you that I am so sorry that I ever made you doubt that. I’m an idiot. A complete and utter idiot and I am so, so sorry. Can you forgive me, sweetheart?” He begged, eyes earnestly boring into your own.

Smiling at your sweet boyfriend, you nodded, overcome by emotion as you leaned forward and passionately pressed your lips to his own, hands coming up to embed themselves in his curly hair and tugging, eliciting a groan from him as his own hands wrapped themselves around your waist, tugging you into his lap, causing you to break away in giggles. Shawn laughed as well, relieved that you were back in his arms. Relieved that the light and love was back in your eyes. He pressed a series of kisses to your face, your eyelids, forehead, temple, nose, anywhere his lips could reach.

“Shawn!” You squealed.  “Stop!” You laughed.

“Not a chance,” Shawn growled through kisses. “I’ve missed out on a whole week of affection from you, we have a lot of making up to do!” He explained, standing up and throwing you over his shoulder as he ran to the bedroom, hellbent on showing you exactly how much he loved you.

[gustafsnightangel]

Muse Part 2

Helena spun him around and pulled his insides out in the most delightful way, made him feel things he had no right feeling for her but did regardless. Michael had hurt her and those scars ran deep, he could see it under the surface as he spoke with her. She was also shy, painfully so. Her beautiful soul spoke to his tortured one like no other before her. Could he be the person she deserved, he thought, and would she accept him? “Will you give me a chance? Will you trust me enough for me to show you how you should be treated?” He murmured as he sat staring at her Floki drawing. “You’re someone special, so very special.” Then show her, the tiny voice inside him said. Show her how special she is.

********************

He was on set a few weeks later and still hadn’t heard from her. It bummed him a little, and decided he’d visit her next week if she hadn’t called in the meantime. They weren’t done. Not until she told him they were done. As in, get the fuck away from me, you’re dead to me, done.

“Mr Skarsgård?” A messenger called out as he stepped from his trailer and felt himself deflate as his eyes fell on the package the guy was holding.

“Package for you.” He said as Gustaf took it from him.

“Thank you.” He said trying to sound sincere as he knew what it was by size and shape alone, she’d sent it all back.

That night back in his hotel room he sat the pen set on the counter and opened it as he pondered what his next move would be. To his surprise there was a letter inside. It was beautifully written, the penmanship exquisite. “Is there nothing you can’t do sweet girl?” He mumbled to the empty room and began to read.

Gustaf,

Please let me start by saying how incredibly grateful I am to you for the return of my drawings. That kindness alone was more than enough. As to the pens and pencils, you flatter me thinking my work is worthy of these remarkable tools. I know the considerable expense to you in the purchase of them and on that count alone I cannot accept them, beautiful as they are. I have spoken to the store owner and they will accept them back for a full refund. I wish you all the best.

Helena

He sat chewing her words over, the tone unmistakably saying we’re done. Should he walk away now or push, he wondered? He most certainly wasn’t done pursuing her. There was something between them, he just didn’t know what. He’d felt it when they met, that undeniable pull to her. “We’re not done.” He murmured softly, his eyes drinking in every letter etched onto the page. “Your soul speaks to mine, I feel it.”

With determination and a plan he headed to her studio, he wasn’t letting her go just yet. “If she tells me to fuck off I’ll leave her be, but until then, I need to see where this goes.” He muttered to himself as he booked an Uber.

********************

It was the second knock at the door in the past few minutes and it irritated her. The only reason she’d come to the studio today was to collect supplies and go home. She’d been delayed and interrupted each time she was almost out the door, and now completely out of patience.

Whoever it was wasn’t going to leave her in peace until she dealt with it. She wrenched open the door ready to spit fury at being interrupted yet again and saw the man of her fantasies standing there in jeans and a crisp white dress shirt. Why was he here, again? And why did he have to look and smell so goddamn perfect?

“Hi.” He said softly.

“Hi.” Her tone was abrupt and he decided he liked seeing her fired up. It was better than the defeated kicked puppy look he’d seen a few weeks earlier.

“Can I come in or are you busy?” He asked, knowing full well she was working.

“You can and yes I’m busy.” She said shortly and held the door for him making sure it closed securely before turning to face him. It also gave her time to compose herself. Pfft! What a joke, he did things to her just by existing.

He stayed standing for the moment as she watched him place the messenger bag on the table. Her eyes flicked to it and back to his, fear with a touch of exasperation. “They’re yours Helena.” He said gently, but there was a firmness there as he held up his hand at her attempt to argue. “I bought them for you, and you and your work are beyond worthy of them.” He saw it then, the doubt, the soul crushing self doubt. Stepping closer to her he was surprised she didn’t shrink away from the advance. Good, he thought, she wasn’t scared of him at least. Just shy and awkward, he could deal with that.

“I just know how much they cost and...” She started and locked eyes with him as he cut her off.

“And that doesn’t matter. I wanted to buy them for you, so I did.” He said softly, he was within half a foot of her now, close enough to touch, to kiss. Oh how he wanted to. “I felt like an asshole after you walked away that day. And seeing your work ruined I had to make it up to you somehow.”

“Returning my drawings was enough.” She said and tried not to let her emotions get the better of her, or her fantasies. Gods he smelled so fucking good, looked just as delicious. She wanted to touch him, let her hands roam over the massive chest in front of her. Have him rip her clothes off, bind her, and fuck her until she screamed.

“For me it wasn’t.” He said softly. “And I hoped I’d get to see you again.” He’d chosen his words carefully so not to completely freak her out.

His voice was deep and low and so sensual she went weak at the knees. How did he do this to her? He’d moved closer which forced her to look up at him.

“You’ve bewitched me Helena.” He whispered as he brushed his fingertips along her jaw. The soft touch sending an involuntary shiver skittering over her skin.

Her thoughts were racing along with her heart, his touch scrambling what was left of her brain. She was barely breathing, here was a man that knew seduction. Here was a man that could truly hurt her, so much more than Michael ever could. Gustaf could destroy her soul, because she felt it now. The longing, the pull to him, both souls speaking to each other. The overwhelming need.

He lowered his head and for a brief moment she thought he was going to kiss her, his grin said otherwise.

“Can I see you tonight.” He whispered near her ear, letting his lips brush her jaw.

She had to snap herself out of whatever spell he’d put her under, this was ridiculous, as was his question.

“I have a meeting at six.” She said and was proud that her voice betrayed none of the arousal she felt. “It won’t finish until seven thirty.”

“So meet at eight?” He asked and smiled against her cheek at the slight tremor that rippled through her at his touch. “Here?” He added not wanting her to think he was saying it to pry her personal address from her. There were boundaries even he wouldn’t cross.

“Ok.” She managed to breathe out.

“I’ll see you then beautiful.” He whispered and kissed her temple gently. “Keep the pens.” He added and locked eyes with her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She watched him stride away with a dumb nod of her head. What the fuck just happened, internal alarm bells screeching as she blew out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding? What. In the actual fuck. Just happened? He’d asked her out, he’d called her beautiful, and he’d kissed her cheek. Was the guy high? Had he stroked out? Was he playing her? This was not real, it couldn’t be.

She pulled it together and placed the messenger bag in her cabinet and locked it up clearly not ready to accept they were hers, this whole situation was still too surreal. “Just rediculius.”

********************

Gustaf was constantly on her mind as she sat through her dinner meeting with the bride and groom she was creating three hundred wedding invitations, menus, and place cards for. She could still feel his finger on her jaw, his lips on her temple. He’d been standing so close to her that her fingers had ached to reach out and touch him, but she was so shocked he was in the same room as her again she hadn’t moved a muscle, not even a twitch. Her shyness didn’t help, and neither did her track record with unavailable men. They were either married, emotionally unavailable, or only interested in a quick affair with no commitment. The former she’d not known about until after they’d done the deed, the rest summed up the entire male population. It would be the same with Gustaf. He’d be with her for a week maybe two at the most for some fun and then he’d ghost her just like everyone else before him. He’s not staying, she reminded herself, so don’t get attached.

At eight forty five she walked through her office door and expected to find it empty as she was late, purposefully so, only to see Gustaf was again folded up on her tiny sofa reading, quite content to wait for her. Odd she thought, no one had ever waited for her before without a lot of bluster and complaint, it was, strange.

“Sorry, I’m running late.” She mumbled dumping her bag on her desk, not entirely sure how she felt about being in the same room as him again. Even his presence was as gigantic as he was.

“It’s fine, you had work, so did I.” He said and unfolded himself to stand, curious at the flustered woman in front of him.

“Give me five minutes ok? I have to setup some stuff up for Monday.” She said quietly and opened her laptop to set a reminder in her calendar for invitation supplies, quickly making notes of color and paper weight.

“Take your time, no rush.” He was content to watch her. I’m still here sweet girl, you won’t shake me loose that easily, I’m a patient man.

“You first.” She said eventually, pointing to the door as she stowed her laptop back into her bag. “I have to lock up.” Her mumble coming out more like a grumble.

“You lock your studio?” He chuckled. “Even when it’s inside the shop?”

“I do when there’s over twenty thousand in pens sitting in there.” She said sarcastically and he couldn’t help the grin.

“Have you used them yet?” He asked as they walked to the front door.

She shook her head. “No, haven’t been brave enough.”

“Use them.” He whispered standing close to her and smiled when her breath hitched.

“So where are we going?” She asked as they stepped into the street, anything to change the subject and keep her mind off the body that was so close to hers.

He held out his hand for her to take. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

She took it tentatively giving him a wary look. Now she was a little frightened of him, he thought, the unknown didn’t sit well with her at all.

“I don’t bite.” He whispered and kissed her just above the ear as his hand engulfed hers. “Not unless you ask me nicely.” His gentle squeeze of her hand eased the tension in her shoulders a little which was what he was after, the slight smile better than the slap across the face he’d half expected.

Hand in hand they walked a few blocks to her favorite ice cream parlor. “You’ve been talking to Henry.” She said softly as he handed her the waffle cone with three scoops of chocolate and dark cherry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He winked.

“I hope he didn’t grill you too much, he’s a little protective.” Henry was the only friend she had and more like the father she’d always wanted.

“He’s a good guy, he cares about you.” Gustaf took her hand again as they walked toward Santa Monica pier. He wanted this date to be out in the open, for her to be at ease with him. She was skittish enough without the pressure of him getting her alone.

“How much did he tell you?” She asked quietly, her nerves making her voice tremble.

“Barely anything, just that it was your story to tell.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them tenderly.

“We’ll there’s always Google.” She said flippantly, not wanting to dive into it, she’d much rather wipe that debacle from history and never speak of it again. It was one of those moments that would follow her for the rest of her life, something she could never be free of and she hated Michael for that.

“I’d rather hear the truth from you, not gossip fodder from the tabloids.” He said carefully. “But, it’s your decision, one I’ll respect. It’s none of my business unless you want to make it my business.” He kissed her fingers again and let her have the silence, knowing all too well how precious privacy was. It was bad enough she’d had all her personal dirty laundry aired in public by that asshole. He wasn’t going to add to the humiliation she’d been through by asking her to relive it. Once had been enough.

His words not only calmed her anxiety, but had her looking at him in a different light. Maybe. Just maybe he was different than all the others.

“Walk along the beach?” He asked softly.

“Sure, just not near the pier. It gets a little loud this time of night.”

“Good plan, you know the area better than I do.” His chuckle had a smile tugging her lips.

“I come down here a lot, to draw, to think.” Like she was thinking now. Thinking about the man beside her, holding her hand, and wondering if she should put her heart and soul on the line. To let him in. To hand over the shattered pieces of her soul for him to see.

“The ocean, or any body of water for that matter has a resounding calm. Where true peace exists.” He murmured absently as he stared out at the ocean.

“Spoken like a poet.” She said honestly. “You have a way with words.”

“As you have a way with a pencil.” He squeezed her hand gently as they made their way to the waters edge.

“Touché.” She chuckled. They stood there in silence, the waves crashing to the shoreline soothing her further. Looking at him discreetly she saw the painting slip into her mind, the silhouette of a man lost in thought as the waves crashed against the shore. Longing and pain etched into the lines of his face. It had been years since she had inspiration come to her like that. An itch to create with paint and color again.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked, his tone hopeful.

“I work tomorrow.” Which was only partially true. She did have work in the morning, preparing for the art market held every Sunday. And she needed time, time to think about Gustaf and what this was between them.

“Bummer, are you free for dinner at least? I leave for a location shoot Sunday afternoon and I won’t be back for a week or so.” He stopped as he felt her body tense and gazed down at her. There was enough light from the pier to see her, beautiful and anxious. Those walls around her heart had locked in place once more. “I’d like to spend time with you.” He added tenderly, his fingers toying with the soft curls that had escaped her ponytail, the light breeze tossing them.

“I... I don’t know...”

“The offer’s there and you have my number.” He wouldn’t push, especially at seeing her so guarded. “When you’re done with work and if you’re feeling up to it I’d like to spend some time with you and take you to dinner.”

“I’ll... ok.” She nodded, too anxious to form a complete sentence, her lungs threatening to shut down and rob her of oxygen.

“No pressure Helena.” He could see the anxiety, feel it radiate out. “If you haven’t already figured it out, I like you. A lot, I’m glad we met.”

All she could do was nod, her mouth had dried up and her skittish thoughts had her words stuck in her throat. She liked him too, but was this real, could it be real, and more importantly could it last? “It’s late, I need to get home.” She said quickly.

“Can I walk you home or do you need an Uber?” In all honesty he didn’t want to leave her, he wanted to have her sleep in his arms and wake up to her tomorrow morning. But he knew that would make her run, it had to be her choice if this was going to be something more.

“I’m not far, but you don’t need to walk me home.” Her voice barely heard over the crashing surf.

“I do when it’s nearly midnight.” He kissed her fingers and walked toward the road. “It’s either that or I’ll put you in an Uber to get you home safely.” He added when she went to argue, her safety was something he wouldn’t budge on. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” She’d stopped walking and he could see the fire in her eyes bank at his words. I care about you sweet girl, please try and see that I’m not like him, he pleaded silently.

“I’m sorry I just...” Fuck she sucked at this. “Knee jerk reaction.”

“I understand. We walking or Ubering?” He asked again with a soft smile.

“Walking if that’s ok? It’s just a few blocks.” She turned to head home but he stayed where he was, tugging her to him gently.

“You’re in control here Helena.” He said gently. Although he wanted to whisk her up in his arms and protect her, be with her, it needed to be her choice. She needed to decide whether to let him in and let him love her. “I’ll walk you to your door and wait for you to get inside and lock the door, that’s all.” Her shuddered breath out in relief cracked something inside him. Michael was a dead man, unequivocally dead.

“Ok.” Her voice barely audible. She had to take a chance. Deep down she knew Gustaf was nothing like Michael and she shouldn’t compare the two. But he was a man and a famous one, he had the funds and exposure to ruin her all over again. The walk to her apartment building was quiet. Was he giving her room to think or was he done with her? The thanks for tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow and ghosted, type done with her? I guess I’ll find out, she muttered silently.

They came to a stop outside an apartment building and she fished around in her bag for her keys. “Thank you for tonight.” He said softly. “I had a good time. Text me when you’re inside?”

“Sure.” Her nod was brief and he knew she was not comfortable having him this close to her sanctuary.

“Helena?” He kept a hold of her fingers and placed her hand on his chest while the other tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “I won’t hurt you, not intentionally.”

“I know.” Did she though?

“But?”

There was a long silence before she answered, his gaze intense. “I’ve been told that before and like a fool I believed him.” She was blunt with him, more so than she’d been with anyone before and it poured out of her. “He not only stole from me, he ruined my career and my reputation in the fine art community, hell my reputation period. It’s why I no longer paint, it took me years to get to the point where I could pick up a pencil and draw again.”

“What did he steal from you?” He kept his tone calm, all the while white hot rage simmered beneath his skin.

“He stole six of my paintings, swindling the auction house and buyers out of nearly two million. Chump change to most, a nest egg to further my career to me. He was forced to give up the paintings and pay back the money but I never saw a dime because of the lies he told.” He could see her anxiety spike, her entire body tremble. “Google my name and Twilight.” She choked. “The facts are correct, just not the gossip. It was the one painting I never found out where it ended up as the buyer wanted to remain anonymous. It’s sister painting Dawn was sold too, the buyer refused to let it go.” His fingers slipped into her hair and he held her to him, lips grazing the top of her head and lingering. Comfort was all he could offer.

He felt the breath shudder out of her, the tension ease in her petite frame as she rested her head against his chest and took a moment. “For what it’s worth Helena, you didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.” The quick shrug of her shoulders conveyed the defeat he had no doubt she still felt to this day. “Thank you for telling me.”

All she could do was nod. It was the most she’d told anyone outside of the investigation, she hadn’t even told Henry that much. She hesitated slightly before wrapping an arm around his waist and letting her world find its equilibrium. He held her closely and for the first time in years she actually felt as if she was worth something to someone, even if that someone would be gone in a few weeks and she’d never see him again. She tried desperately not to just burrow into that expansive chest and lose herself in the feel of him holding her. “Sorry, I should go.” She mumbled and collected her thoughts enough to pull away from him, if she didn’t she’d be begging him to come inside and stay the night.

“No actually I should go, it’s late and you have work in the morning.” Her brow creased in confusion. “I’d love to have you in my arms all night Helena, but trust is earned, and I haven’t earned yours yet.” He kissed her brow and lingered, her scent wrapping around him. “Text me when you get inside so I know you’re safe.”

“Ok.” She nodded and stalled, her feet not wanting to take her to the door. “I’ll think about dinner.” She said and hoped it didn’t come out too harsh. The disconnect from his hand was a brutal slap in the face and suddenly felt as if all the light had been sucked out of the world. Alone again, that spark of hope she’d felt earlier slowly diminishing. Opening the door she stopped on the stoop and looked back at him, damn she was in way over her head.

“Goodnight Helena.” He called softly, fuck he didn’t want to leave her.

“Goodnight.” Her soft smile had his belly flip. He watched the door close behind her, heard the automatic lock click in place. Walking the few steps to the sidewalk he stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for her text, he’d wait out here all damn night if he had too.

Helena got inside her apartment and went to the window, sure enough he was still outside pacing, waiting for her to text him. “Who does that?” She sighed. “Obviously he does.” Taking out her phone she sent him a text.

I’m in my apartment.

She watched him take out his phone and read it, the lamp light enough for her to see his unguarded smile. She’d paint that smile for it was something to be cherished. A moment later her phone chimed.

Then I’ll leave you to sleep. Thank you for tonight Helena, I had a great time.

So did I.

She sent back. “Even though I completely freaked out.” She blew out. “Again.”

Call me tomorrow? Even if we don’t go out for dinner?

What did she say to that? She looked down at the tall man she’d let slip under her defenses and as if by fate his eyes locked onto hers. “Like calls to like.” She breathed. “Who hurt you?” She asked herself absently, she knew that look. The please handle with care look. She was sure she had the same look plastered across her face every fucking day. “Who put you through your own ninth circle of hell?”

I’ll try.

Goodnight Helena. Get some sleep.

You too.

She watched him tap his phone in his palm before ordering an Uber and pocketing it. Curling up on the arm of her tiny sofa she stayed there staring at him while he waited for his transportation. He was inherently different from Michael and although she shouldn’t compare the two the fact they had the same career made it difficult not to. As his car pulled up he glanced in her direction once more before climbing in the car and disappearing from view. Her fingers twitched and for the first time since her world had fallen apart with Michael she had the urge to paint.

********************

The drive back to his hotel was blissfully silent giving him the opportunity to write. He didn’t often get the urge but when it came knocking he listened. By the time he fell through his door it was close to three in the morning, Helena was still on his mind, the way she’d felt against him. It made him feel things he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He’d also been bitten, not as hard as Helena, but enough to shy away from relationships. Helena was different, his thoughts drifting as he fell asleep, those stormy grey eyes haunting him.

Waking a few hours later not able to sleep anymore due to his own mind insisting he think of every damn thing possible, he got up, ordered room service, and grabbed his laptop. There was research to be done, because he wanted to know what went down and what Twilight meant to Helena. He had an overwhelming urge to right this wrong and see the woman happy whatever the cost. There was more to her story she wasn’t saying, he could feel it, but respected her silence. Trust wouldn’t come easily for her.

********************

She didn’t sleep, she’d gone from her window to her closet and pulled out the box of old brushes and paints she had stashed away when she’d first moved in all those years ago. There were snippets of Gustaf in her mind, perfect moments that she felt the need to capture on canvas. Without thinking, without letting those ever present doubts to creep in even for a second, she framed two canvases and sketched out both scenes. She lost herself, in creating, in herself, in Gustaf. A man who had simply held her, offered her companionship with no strings attached, who was willing to wait and let her come to him. As the painting began to take shape she watched the dawn break and smiled, maybe, just maybe this was a turning point for her.

By four in the afternoon she’d finished the first pass, both scenes jumping to life. She wanted to keep going but the paint needed to dry before she added anything to it. Oils demanded time, patience, and respect from the artist. Gustaf stared out at her, eyes of perfect blue that had captivated her. “Don’t let me be wrong about you.” She said quietly to the drying paint. Cleaning up she took a shower and tried to scrub most of the paint off, it was only then she started to think about food and dinner. Dinner as in should she text Gustaf?

********************

He’d kept busy for most of the day looking through articles and searching for the Twilight reference Helena had mentioned. There were plenty of descriptions about it and the painting in his mind felt somewhat familiar. He’d managed to find the sister painting titled Dawn which was owned by a Paramount producer. It was in that article he laid eyes on Twilight, but not for the first time, and felt his heart stop cold. There was a reason he recognized it, why Helena’s signature was so agonizingly familiar. Twilight was hanging in his fathers living room. “Oh fucking hell.” He breathed out. “Of all the fucking paintings.” He huffed a chuckle and smiled. Maybe this news would give her closure, or maybe it would rip old wounds wide open, it was a tough call as to whether he should disclose that information or not. The fact she’d not received a dime for her work didn’t sit right with him either. He knew his father had paid handsomely for it as a gift for Megan, but the money had never made it to Helena. No, it was all gobbled up in legal fees so that she could defend herself at the injustices Michael had done to her. To be free of any activity that he’d blamed her for, the lies he’d told.

“Sweet girl.” He sighed as he read one article after another. “No wonder you don’t trust or want anything to do with the male population.” He was wrenched from his thoughts by a text tone and he smiled when he saw Helena’s number pop up.

I’m so sorry. I meant to call earlier but got lost in my work. I’d still like to meet for dinner if it’s not too late.

“Never too late for you sweet girl.” He murmured as he typed his reply.

Never too late for dinner with a beautiful lady. Where would you like to go?

“Beautiful lady?” She snorted. “Have you been sniffing turpentine?”

Do you like Thai food?

Love it.

Meet outside my apartment? There’s a great family owned restaurant about six blocks from me, we can walk to it if you want to?

I’ll text you when I’m there, see you soon.

He couldn’t help the shit eating grin that cracked his face. That was solid progress. Closing down his laptop he showered and jumped in an Uber, it was early enough to beat the usual hellacious L.A. traffic. She was sitting on the steps when the car pulled up, figure hugging jeans and a cute top. Thanking the driver he untangled himself from the back seat and closed the door. Turning to face her he noticed she looked as though she hadn’t slept well either.

“Hi.” She said nervously as she got to her feet. This was awkward for her as she’d not been on many second dates lately, if that’s what this was.

“Hi, shall we go eat?” He kept it light at seeing the nervousness flittering through her body.

“Yes, I’m really hungry.”

“Me too.” He held out his hand for hers and she took it with a little less hesitance than yesterday. Bringing it to his lips to kiss he saw the hint of paint under her nails, the slight smell of turpentine and smiled. Maybe their encounter had helped her find herself again. They talked as they walked, keeping it to safe topics and steering well clear of what was discussed last night. The waitress sat them in a secluded corner booth allowing a small amount of privacy which he was silently thankful for. As they waited for their food he reached a hand over and laced his fingers with hers, thumb brushing her wrist.

“It looks as though you had a fist fight with a box of paints.” He chuckled as his thumb caressed a splatter of blue and grey paint.

“Damnit I thought I got it all.” She huffed and went to pull her hand back but Gustaf held it firmly.

“You painted something?” He asked carefully. The shrug of her shoulders was her only comment on the matter and he felt her bristle. “None of my business, but I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I didn’t go to sleep, inspiration just hit me and I had to paint.” Her mumble barely discernible.

“That’s a pretty big step.” He said gently and all he got from her was a nod. “Would you show me when they’re done? I’d love to see them.” This was shaky ground he was on now and he knew he had to tread carefully.

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” That damn thumb of his caressing her inner wrist was sending her body into overdrive of a sexual nature while her brain was trying to process his words. “I’m not sure they’re good enough.” Which was partly true. They were also of Gustaf and really for her eyes, and fantasies, only. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to be completely honest.

“No pressure Helena, it’s your call, but I’d love to see what you’ve created, for you to show me what you see in the world.” Those eyes of smoky grey locked onto his, the shock of what he’d said evident. “You see things and people differently, it’s interesting.”

“Maybe one day.” She said softly, not quite sure of the man before her, a million questions about his intent zipping through her mind. Was this history repeating? It didn’t feel like it, but she would protect her work at all costs after the shit Michael pulled. “So where is the location shoot?” She asked, wanting anything to get them off the topic of her painting again.

He saw the question for what it was, he’d toed a line, her tone made that abundantly clear. “Lake Powell Arizona. Then it’s out to the Paramount Ranch in Agoura.”

“How long are you gone?” She tried to not sound too disappointed that she wouldn’t see him for a while. This is the business, his job, get over yourself, the little voice in her head snarled.

“A couple of weeks. You could always come with me.” He grinned, knowing her answer would be a flat out no.

“No I couldn’t.” She said quickly, a little too quickly and she saw the barb in her voice strike true.

“I know, but it was worth a try.” He smiled and dropped his gaze not wanting her to see the disappointment.

“You really wanted me to come with you?” She was flabbergasted.

“I did. It would be nice to be with you, but you have work and so do I.” It stung, but he understood her caution.

“I do, starting with the three hundred wedding invitations and fluff I’ve been commissioned for.” Which was the bare bones truth, she’d miss him though, this, just sitting here hand in hand talking. No ulterior motive, no agenda, just two people talking over dinner.

“I’d like to call you while I’m away, chat when you have time.” He murmured.

“I’d like that.”

He paid the bill and tipped heavily as they had not been interrupted all evening which was a welcome change to not have wait staff hovering or asking for autographs. They talked on the walk back to her apartment and the time seemed to go faster than when they had set out earlier in the evening.

“This is oddly familiar.” Gustaf smirked as they stood on the stoop to her apartment building once again and her giggle had his heart exploding. He wanted to hear that giggle again, to hear her laugh.

“It is.”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Fuck he didn’t want to leave her, his body ached to hold her for eternity, make love to her. Show her that she meant something to him.

“I’ll be here. Nothing too exciting for me.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She knew deep down that this was probably it. He’d go to location, get filming done, fly back to LA and then be on the first plane back home, back to his real life.

“I’ll come back to you Helena.” He knew where her mind had gone and had expected it.

It’s ok if you don’t, she said silently, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been discarded. She wouldn’t let that show through, he was trying to let her down easy and they’d made no promises to each other. This might actually be for the best and she certainly didn’t hate him for it.

“Ok.” Was the only answer she could voice and it cut him deep. Show her, said the tiny squeak in his mind, don’t tell her, show her you’ll be back by coming back. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for picking a great spot. Text me when you’re inside?” The disappointment on her face broke him as she nodded. Was she ready to know how he truly felt about her? The fact he wanted to kiss her, love her, that he’d fallen head over heels for her. He held onto her hand as she went to walk away, the indecision killing him, to kiss her or leave it be. She made the decision for him, a soft squeeze of his hand was all he got before she broke contact and headed inside, she didn’t look back. “Fucking fuck.” He cursed to the heavens as he lost sight of her.

She was almost in tears as she crossed her threshold. He’d wanted to kiss her, she’d felt the pull to him, his intent evident in those soulful eyes, the way he didn’t want to let her go. As she texted him she stood by the window and watched him call an Uber. The picture of him looking up at her burning into her brain until he was forced to get in the car and leave. She collapsed on the sofa and let the sobs tear from her lungs, he wouldn’t be back. No one ever came back for her.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

I Can Hear Your Voice

Summary: Analogical Soulmate AU! Where you can hear your soulmate’s voice no matter how far apart you are. 

Word Count:  1,576

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01​​ @spoopy-turtle​​ @lizluvscupcakes​ @far-too-many-fandoms-to-die

Virgil had never met Logan, but loved him with all his heart. Logan had always been there for him, always been with him. The first time he was aware of him was in kindergarten. That was when the teachers told him of soulmates. He was told that the soulmate was just a few words away, they could hear everything you said. That was when he and Logan had been first introduced.

Over time, he got used to having a voice in his head that only he could hear. He also got used to talking aloud more often. Sometimes, he would just hum while he was doing something and Logan would send back an answering hum. Other times, he would sing and Logan would ask what song it was. Most times, he would speak aloud to an empty room and get responses. 

As they grew older, they found times when they needed to be quiet, such as when Logan got into meetings in his career. But there were also times when they would deliberately talk, like when Logan helped Virgil down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a presentation. Sometimes, one would be driving and, instead of playing music, ask the other to read to them.

Virgil found it fun to be Logan’s audiobook, trying to put a voice to each character and a separate voice for the narrator. Logan did the same with him, voice coming alive with numerous accents in order to create a whole world with just his speech.

Today started off as a normal day. Virgil woke up and said a quiet, “Good morning,” to the empty room.

A chuckle sounded in a space that felt like directly behind Virgil but was actually a few hundred miles away. “Are you just now getting up?”

Virgil rolled over, bleary eyes trying to read the clock. “What time is it?”

“For you? Probably about eleven in the morning. By the way, how are we feeling this morning?”

Virgil smiled at the question. “More androgynous right now while leaning toward male.”

“So they/them for now, yes?”

Virgil smiled, grateful their soulmate accepted them as genderfluid. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, starlight. Time to start the day.”

Virgil stretched, releasing an unintelligible sound. “What chapter were we last on?” They asked as they rolled out of bed.

Logan began reading as Virgil went about their morning routine, grabbing the gym bag by the door on their way out and heading to the dance studio. Logan said he had to go into a meeting so had to stop reading and Virgil said goodbye, turning on the music. They  stretched before they began, listening as Logan switched from the tone he used just with them to his business voice. Virgil smiled as they lost themselves in the unique combination of music and Logan’s voice, letting his body flow as a warm-up.

 They lay on the floor, panting as Logan concluded his meeting. There was a smile in his voice as he asked, “Did you have a good session?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. You have a good meeting? You sounded frustrated towards the end.”

Logan sighed as Virgil imagined him running his hand through his hair. “Just people being idiots. Nothing to worry about.” They sat in silence together for a few minutes before Logan spoke again. “So, do we want to talk about last night?”

Virgil laughed, shifting his legs to be more comfortable. “No, I don’t think we do. You know how I can be.”

“Yes, I do. It was also very hard to keep my focus on my work with that going in my head.”

Virgil laughed. “You should have been asleep anyways, Mr. I’m only an hour behind you.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, I also realize that you have insomnia. That does not give you the excuse to rant about the merits of the written word and compare and contrast them to those of the drawn world. Nor does it give you the excuse to almost break into tears over the beauty of them working together to enhance each other.”

Virgil chuckled. “Alright, fair point.”

They stood and began to gather their things, the rest of the day progressing smoothly. The night rolled around, Logan having a lot of things to get done. So, Virgil decided that it would be a good time to practice his singing. Logan chuckled as he started but soon quieted as he focused on the papers he had to go through as Virgil faded into a very welcome background noise.

Finally, Virgil’s voice trailed off as they stared up at the stars and wondered if Logan was seeing the same stars they were, gazing at the same moon. They sighed. “Logan?”

Logan hummed. “Yes, darling?”

They watched an airplane fly by. “Can we pretend that airplanes are shooting stars?”

Logan paused. “Are you okay?”

“I could really use a wish right now.”

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

Virgil sighed. “I’m feeling more male right now.”

“Alright, dear. What’s wrong, my little prince?”

Virgil stood, shutting his blinds before he moved to the couch. “I don’t know. I don’t feel well but know I’m in perfect health, probably better health than you. I wish moments like this would stretch on forever, staying in this peace and serenity.”

“I know just how you feel. Sometimes, I don’t want to leave a moment that I feel safe in. Just wait a bit longer and you will find another safe moment.”

Virgil sighed, flopping onto his back. “I know. I’m just tired of being tired. I want something to change but I don’t know what. I guess I just need to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

Virgil made a noise of agreement as he headed off to bed.

The next morning, Virgil was feeling feminine so put on a skirt, twirling as she liked the way it felt against her skin. She wandered over to her computer and ate breakfast while searching the symptoms of yesterday on the internet. “Ahhh.” She said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“I think I found out why I was feeling so bad yesterday.”

“And what would that be, starlight?”

“I was having an anxiety attack.” She said it casually, as if she were discussing the grocery list.

“Are you feeling any better now?”

“Yes, I  think I am. How are you this fine morning?”

He chuckled. “Busy traveling for work. I’m having to work on moving to a new office so you might hear me muttering at the GPS for a while.”

Virgil laughed. “Would you like an audiobook? I can pick up where we left off yesterday.”

A smile invaded Logan’s voice, a sound Vigil had only ever heard directed at her. “Yes, please. Oh! Before I forget, which gender would you like to be perceived as at the moment?”

Virgil smirked. “Currently female. Leaning a bit toward agender today.”

“How shall I refer to you while agender?”

“You always ask me how I want to be perceived. Whenever I’m agender, I just want to be perceived as a threat.”

Logan laughed. “Alright, princess. A threat you shall be.”

Virgil giggled as she skipped off to get the book they were reading.

The sound of a car passing didn’t usually bother Virgil as they were used to it, living on a semi-busy road as they were. However, the sound of a car stopping outside their house did give them cause for concern. They got up, pausing mid sentence and went to look out the window.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, his concern evident.

Virgil paused. “I don’t know. A car just pulled into my driveway and turned off.”

“Isn’t that normal for you? You did say you live on a busy road.”

“It’s normal to hear them pull in, but that’s usually just to turn around. They don’t usually park on my driveway if they are visiting the neighbors.”

Logan chuckled even as the car’s door opened. “I guess the jig is up, as they say.” The man stepping out of the car was tall and well dressed in a neat black suit with a patterned blue tie. He smiled and waved at Virgil, who ducked behind their blinds.

“The person got out of the car and waved at me.”

Logan laughed again, a knock sounding at the door. “How about you answer your door?”

Virgil froze as the information Logan gave finally sank in. “You're actually here?”

“Yes, I am.”

Virgil slid across the floor in their socked feet, fumbling with the lock before throwing the door open.

Logan stared as his eyes traveled the length of Vigil’s body, taking in the bright skirt and socks before going back up to linger just long enough on the band t-shirt to read it. His eyes finally made it back to Virgil’s and he smiled. “You’re gorgeous.” Was all he said.

Virgil threw themselves into his arms, smiling widely. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” Pulling back, they paused. “Were you lying about having to go on a business trip?”

Logan smiled, shaking his head. “No. My company recently opened a branch here and I volunteered to go help out. I also still need a place to stay, so-”

“You can crash here, I don’t mind at all.” Virgil rushed before Logan could finish.

He chuckled, pulling his soulmate closer. “Nothing would make me happier.”

[captain-s-rogers]

Southern Style

(gif credit to the creator)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 1,347 Warnings: none Square Filled: Road Trip AU Song: Southern Style - Darius Rucker A/N: Another square for @marvelfluffbingo​​​​​​​​ 2020! This is a rewrite of a fic I have previously posted on my Supernatural blog (@d-s-winchester​​) so don’t come at me about plagiarism and shit. It’s my writing and I’m allowed to tweak it and repost it however I’d like. As always a HUGE thank you to the best bestie around @arrowsandmixtapes​​​​ for looking over my stuff and making sure it isn’t terrible. If you want to be added to my tag list please let me know! Feedback is cool :)

Chris adjusted himself in his seat as the interviewer got ready to ask the next question. All of the questions thus far had been about the new movie and Captain America so he knew the next few questions would be about you. They hadn’t touched on his relationship yet.

“How did you feel when Y/N finally agreed to go out with you? Was it different than when she said yes when you proposed?”

Chris let out a laugh.

“It wasn’t different at all, really,” he smiled, “both times I couldn’t contain my excitement. I kind of let out a little enthusiastic ‘yes’.”

The interviewer laughed before asking her next question.

“Can you give us some details on your relationship since the wedding is right around the corner?”

“That depends on what you want to know.”

“Anything,” the interviewer prompted, “everything.”

“That’s easy,” he smiled.

He smiled at the memories of you that flooded his mind. It was almost like he was lost in a dream as he went on to describe your relationship, this was the first time he’d went into such detail.

Chris wasn’t expecting to fall in love with you. He’d ended up in Georgia on an unexpected road trip. Something he impulsively decided to do. He got in his car and just drove, destination unknown, in an attempt to clear his head, get some of his thoughts together and figure out if the prospects in front of him were really what was best for him. The anxiety he was feeling over the possibility of taking the role of Captain America was plaguing him and he just couldn’t shake it. He knew it would be huge for his career and that was great but the toll it would take on his personal life and his privacy, something he loved, was one of the large factors making him lean toward declining the role.

He’d been driving for hours, his head no clearer than it was the moment he climbed into the car, when he finally crossed the state line into Georgia. Realizing he hadn’t eaten in hours had him pulling off at the first exit he found and parking his car at the first diner he saw.  He was still uncertain what direction his life was going to go in but the moment he set foot in that diner he had a feeling his entire life was going to change -- and it had nothing to do with his career.

 “Can I start you off with a drink?” you asked with a bright smile and a southern drawl and immediately he was taken by you.

 “Uh, water is fine,” he smiled, composing himself.

 In his opinion you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You weren’t wearing much makeup and he knew you didn’t need it. You’d brought him his water and he placed his order. Throughout the rest of his meal he’d flirted with you more than he’d care to admit but it paid off because he’d left that diner with your number. That moment he decided that maybe Georgia was the place to spend some time and really figure out what he wanted.

 Two days later he was taking you out to dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town. You were dressed in a sundress and sandals, perfect for the warm summer weather and he thought you looked incredible. It was a perfect first date as far as he was concerned, ending with him walking you to your front door and a sweet first kiss goodnight.

 Over the next few weeks of his impromptu, indefinite, getaway the two of you spent all of your free time together. He’d come to realize that you had a lot in common. He learned you loved to read and were very well read, you were pretty adventurous when it came to food and you enjoyed to spend as much time as possible outdoors – whether that be at the beach or hiking. He learned that you loved to travel but didn’t really have the time to do so because of your job.

 He came to find that you were the picture of perfection and the perfect real life adaptation of a true Southern Belle. That night you were both lying on a blanket on the beach on the lake when he learned that you wanted your father and two brothers to walk you down the aisle. He learned that you were a fan of classic rock and preferred oysters to clams.

 Every minute he spent with you he was falling more and more in love and when it came time for him to leave he was reluctant to go. The studio was begging him for an answer and he had put it off long enough. After spending so much time with you he realized that taking the role was really what he wanted. He wanted to live his life to its fullest, have no regrets and take any opportunity given to him -- and this was the biggest opportunity yet. 

When you walked with him to his car the day he decided to leave you assured him more than once that you would be waiting for him when he decided to pass through again. As he opened the door and climbed behind the wheel he promised you he would never just pass through, that every time he set foot in that small Georgia town it would be to see you.

 He made good on his promise, flying out to see you whenever he had off, and when he couldn’t come to you he flew you out to Boston or LA to see him. After going through that for almost a year it came time for him to meet your parents. Even though he was nervous your laid back nature made him that much more comfortable. Your parents loved him and he loved them. By the time the visit was over he had made the second biggest decision of his life. He’d made the decision that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

 It was only a few months later that you’d uprooted your life and moved in with him in his house in California. After that your life seemed to shift. Due to your new location you had the opportunity to pursue your dream of becoming a photographer. Your life was taking a turn for the best and you were more than grateful.

 Five months after you’d moved in with Chris he took a short trip to see your father. Once Chris had his blessing he took you out to dinner and asked you to be his wife. He couldn’t imagine his life without you and frankly, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. You accepted enthusiastically and immediately began the wedding planning.

 With just a few days to go until the actual event you were in a frenzy. As stressful as it was you were more than excited about the wedding and the rest of your life with Chris.

“We’re both really excited,” Chris finished his recount.

“Sounds like you really love her,” the interviewer smiled.

“I do,” Chris grinned, “Y/N is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Walking into the diner that day was the best decision I’ve ever made. My life would be completely different if I’d picked somewhere else to eat. That diner and the state of Georgia hold a special place in my heart.”

“With good reason,” the interviewer smiled, “I wish you both the best of luck, though I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Chris thanked her and smiled. Once the interview was over he went home to you, more than happy that seeing you in the kitchen making dinner – an apron tied around your waist – was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life. He wasn’t lying when he told the interviewer that walking into that diner that day changed his life. It not only changed his life, it gave him everything he’d ever wanted.

@arrowsandmixtapes​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​ @growningupgeek​​​ @phoenixfyre374​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​ @patzammit​​​ @what-is-your-plan-today​​​ @sagechanoafterdark​​​ @kitkatd7​���​

[inliar]

spaced in, spaced out

word count: 4.5k

hyojin-centric

hyojin wholeheartedly loves space; the big kind, like the sky and the planets and the brilliant, brilliant stars, but also the small kind, like the time he gets to himself when everything screams louder than it should.

mildly inspired by on the run LA ep 22, time stamp 10:25

a/n: i’ve posted this on ao3 and have since orphaned it (due to unnecessary worrying) so if you recognize it, that’s likely why.

warning: mentions of exhaustion / depressive symptoms

on days when practice runs late (which is almost every day when you don’t know when to stop; a trait hyojin admits he has but refuses to see the problem with), hyojin likes to look at the sky. when he’s feeling lazy, or when dance practice is exceptionally gruelling, he can only really manage to make it to the nearest window and do his best to look up and over the surrounding building’s walls. but when he’s feeling particularly active, he’ll take the stairs up to the rooftop patio and enjoy the sight. from there, he has a clear, unobstructed, view.

not that it’s all that clear, though. light pollution, residual smog, and occasionally cloudy skies mask what hyojin imagines would be a stunning scene without. he’s looked up some night sky pictures on nasa’s official gallery, and they were absolutely breathtaking. so were their ridiculously high quality photos of the solar system, and the milky way, and all the constellations. he has these images saved in a neat little folder on his phone, for days when his own view doesn’t cut it. one day, hyojin would like to see them in real life. maybe he could visit an actual observatory with professional telescopes.

but as it stands, all hyojin can see from his place on earth is the moon, and, if he’s lucky, a couple of stars. on most days, that’s enough. he can observe how far along the lunar cycle the moon is, and he can close his eyes and make a tiny wish to the first star he saw that night. he’s not sure if his wishes help — luck is a fickle thing that he’s never quite had enough of — but he figures it can’t hurt. and after his little ritual, he can return back to his practice room or his dorm with a peaceful mind. he’s here. he’s grounded. he has a more or less beautiful sky to look at. on most days, that’s enough.

but on other days, it’s not. like today.

for one, it’s not even nighttime. a glance at the clock in the practice room tells him that it’s 17:34, which he eventually translates into 5:34 p.m.. it’s much too early to look to the sky for comfort, and it is definitely much too early for the type of crisis that hyojin normally only gets very late at night or very early in the morning. the ones where he can’t do anything besides sit in place like some useless tree stump while he questions his life.

“do you want to go get dinner?”

hyojin hates wasting time, so he doesn’t let them happen often, but every now and then one sneaks by him. especially when he’s overworked and tired and doesn’t have the energy to fight it off. he’s not sure what’s happening just yet, but he can sense that familiar, unsettling feeling simmering somewhere very near.

“hyung, you good?” hyojin hears, and he jolts in place where he’s sitting on the practice room floor. yuto’s looking down at him, all wide eyed and polite, and seungjoon is draped over the poor boy’s back.

“yeah, sorry, i was just … thinking.” hyojin replies lamely, cursing himself for his lack of a better explanation. all of these thoughts, and not a single one is of any use outside of his head.

“seungjoon hyung asked if you were getting dinner with us, but you didn’t answer.” yuto continues. hyojin pauses to process this, before noticing just how quiet the room is. a glance around the room confirms his suspicions; the room is empty, save for the three of them. “where did everyone else go?” hyojin asks.

“jaeyoung and minkyun said they were going to the studio after practice today to work on a new song, remember? and changyoon went to start a vlive. they all said goodbye before they left?” seungjoon explains.

huh. hyojin doesn’t recall any of this. “right, now i remember!” hyojin lies, perhaps a bit too eagerly. he can feel seungjoon staring at him, but he avoids the impulse to look back and stubbornly maintains eye contact with yuto instead.

“so … dinner?” yuto asks.

hyojin hesitates. he is hungry, but going out to eat means talking to someone to order. it means maintaining a conversation with his members, or at the very least keeping up with what they’re talking about. they’re usually really good at sensing when doesn’t want to talk, and they never push him, but hyojin doesn’t want to show off how drained he’s feeling at the moment. just thinking about it makes his head hurt.

“i don’t really want to go out today.” hyojin confesses. seungjoon and yuto nod together like a pair of synchronized bobble heads. cute.

“i’m kind of getting a headache, so i think i’ll head back to the dorm for a bit and take a nap. maybe i can go live sometime today, too. did anyone say they wanted to go after changyoon?” hyojin asks.

“no, i don’t think so.” seungjoon replies, which causes hyojin to accidentally make eye contact with him. darn. seungjoon can be ridiculously perceptive when he wants to be, especially when it comes to reading him. hyojin is not in the mood to be read right now.

seungjoon must come to some sort of conclusion in his head, because he stops staring at hyojin with that weird, ambiguous gaze. “i’ll drop some food off at your place after we’re done. that kimchi fried rice and those dumplings you like.” seungjoon says decisively, before pushing himself off from yuto’s back. “are you coming down with us, at least?”

“yeah, let’s go.” hyojin mumbles as he stands up. his muscles are sore, more likely a result of yesterday’s practice than today’s. the teachers went particularly hard yesterday. it was this constant series of ‘again, again, again’ for all these minuscule details that even yuto seemed to have a hard time catching. but they were much better afterwards because of it, so hyojin figures he shouldn’t complain.

he’s happy to listen to yuto and seungjoon babble about dance practice as they walk down the stairs; partially because he loves hearing the passion in their voices as they discuss how they want to present themselves, and partially because he doesn’t think he has the power to sustain a conversation right now. thankfully, neither of the two push him to say anything. he’s not sure whether it’s because he said he was getting a headache or because they can sense something is actually off with him, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

hyojin remembers to smile and say goodbye when he parts ways with seungjoon and yuto. then, he puts his phone on do not disturb before starting his trek home. he doesn’t want to talk to anyone just yet.

-

hyojin sits down on his bed and he doesn’t cry. he simply thinks.

sometimes he feels like a fake. he’s been told by dozens of people that his singing voice is so emotional. that it conveys a depth of feeling that’s heart wrenchingly beautiful when it needs to be, and technically perfect when it doesn’t. and he’s grateful for that, he truly is. but sometimes, he worries that it isn’t enough.

not that he doesn’t express emotions, because he does. he knows he does. anyone who’s observed hyojin long enough can see it. but the one thing he feels like he hasn’t openly expressed is sadness. which is understandable, after all, since he’s an idol. people come to him and his music for comfort, not to hear him complain. but he’s starting to believe that his absolute inability to convey this basic emotion is what’s causing all of his weird crises.

hyojin wishes he could cry. but he hasn’t cried in so long that he fears he no longer knows how to. bottled up emotions don’t free themselves easily, not when he’s tightened the cap so hard and so often that he’s not sure where the bottle ends and the cap begins.

‘don’t you feel bad?’ he chides himself.

‘yes,’ his inner voice croaks.

‘then prove it,’ he thinks. he challenges himself. he demands.

hyojin doesn’t cry, so he stands up. it’s time for him to get a grip on himself. he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes. he doesn't have anything else to do for the rest of the day, so he tries to take a nap as well. it’s hard at first — he’s oddly cold under the power of the air conditioning (that he never bothered to learn how to turn off) and his mind is still whirring with empty, useless, thoughts — but his sheer exhaustion overpowers it all as he falls into a shallow, troubled rest.

-

when he wakes up, his room is much darker then it was before. he reaches out for his phone, his hand haphazardly scrabbling for purchase on his nightstand before finally picking it up. squinting, he manages to read the time: 8:19 p.m.. cool, so he got around two hours of sleep. he figures that’s not too bad. he got four the other day when he was actually trying to go to bed.

for a moment, hyojin contemplates attempting to sleep again before deciding against it. he’s a little drowsy, but he’s not physically tired anymore. with that in mind, he gets up, slips his phone in his pocket, and opens his bedroom door. he could use a cup of water.

the lights are on somewhere out there, which hyojin guesses probably means that changyoon is on the couch playing kart rider or something. his assumption is proven to be correct when he spots changyoon, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, mumbling under his breath at his phone.

“what are you doing?” hyojin asks, turning towards the kitchen to pour himself some water. just before he looks away, he sees changyoon flinch. “n-nothing, i was just texting minkyun,” he hears changyoon stammer awkwardly.

hyojin pauses. suspicious. changyoon is definitely hiding something. hyojin considers confronting his roommate, but before he gets the chance to do so he feels his stomach grumble. right, he skipped dinner.

“did you already eat?” hyojin asks instead, taking his cup of water with him as he walks to the couch. it’s then that he notices the nearly empty takeout box of dumplings on the coffee table.

“never mind, i guess you have.” hyojin answers himself, putting his cup on the table and sitting down next to changyoon. “hmm, what should i eat?”

“oh, right!” changyoon says, popping the last dumpling in his mouth and standing up. “i ran into seungjoon and yuto on the way here. they gave me some takeout for you,” he explains as he walks to the fridge.

hyojin had forgotten about that, but he remembers now. “yeah, i think he said he was going to do that. kimchi fried rice and dumplings, right?” hyojin asks. he could really go for some dumplings right about now, especially after seeing changyoon eating.

changyoon freezes. “o-oh, so seungjoon told you,” he chuckles nervously, pulling a clear plastic bag out of the fridge and bringing it back to where hyojin is sitting on the couch. he’s trembling, which is odd. hyojin already has a very bad feeling about this, but he doesn’t want to say anything yet. surely changyoon wouldn’t do something so dumb as to -

“where are my dumplings?” hyojin demands, after opening the styrofoam container and only finding fried rice. he looks inside the empty plastic bag one more time, just to be sure (they’re not there), before glancing at the empty styrofoam container that changyoon was eating out of before. funnily enough, it’s the same type of takeout box as his fried rice container.

“you ate my dumplings?” hyojin shrieks, immediately grabbing a pillow from the couch. changyoon has already wisely retreated to the very end of the room, but hyojin wastes no time in lunging to where changyoon escaped to with agility akin to his deer nickname. changyoon futilely attempts to dart out of the way, but hyojin manages to grasp the collar of his shirt with one hand while he smacks changyoon with the pillow in his other hand. “what - were - you - thinking?” hyojin hisses, punctuating each word with a thump from the pillow. he notices that changyoon is covering his head, so he makes sure to hit the deserving food thief extra hard.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” changyoon wails as he drops to the ground to shield himself further. “i was hungry!”

“and you thought to take my food, you jerk?” hyojin yells, dropping and holding changyoon down with his knee while he continues to bash him with the pillow. “you didn’t even leave any behind for me!”

“i’m sorry, i’m sor- ow! stop hitting me, please, i’ll buy you more dumplings!” changyoon begs, and it’s enough for hyojin to graciously let changyoon go. “you better,” hyojin threatens, standing up. “you’re lucky i’m weak right now, you brat.”

“i’m sorry, what? you call that weak?” changyoon asks incredulously, sitting up and leaning back on his hands. “was that pillow made out of rocks?”

“if i hadn’t just woken up, and i wasn’t so hungry …” hyojin trails off.

“you know what, i don’t even want to think about it,” changyoon decides. “but the food stall closes at 10, so we should get going if you want the dumplings tonight.”

“i’m sorry, we?” hyojin asks incredulously. “why do i have to go out?

“don’t you want to personally make sure i get the right ones?” changyoon offers.

“no, because i can tell you right now which ones i want — pork, by the way — and if you forget you can text me.” hyojin says.

“but i don’t want to go outside alone! it’s dark, and it’s scary!”

“sucks for you, then, you shouldn’t have eaten my food in the first place. and since when have you been scared of the dark?”

“please?” changyoon asks. “i’ll buy you ice cream if you do.”

hyojin pauses. ice cream does sound really good right now. “okay, fine.” he decides. “but i’m not changing.”

“yeah, me neither. the food stall lady has known us for forever, though, so it’s probably fine.” changyoon reasons, standing up. “let me get my wallet and then we can go.”

“okay,” hyojin agrees. “i need to fix my hair anyways, it’s probably a mess.”

hyojin manages to tidy up his bedhead/warrior hair and find a cap in his room, but changyoon still hasn’t come out yet. “are you coming?” hyojin calls, walking out of his room to sit on the couch. he picks up his unfinished glass of water and takes a sip. he wouldn’t want to have damaged his throat after his screaming fit.

changyoon walks into the living room, looking sheepish. “so, um, how mad would you be if i told you that i think i left my wallet at the company?”

“... you’re serious.” hyojin deadpans incredulously.

“yeah, uh, i just realized i left my coat in the room where i did my vlive, and i normally carry my wallet in my pocket.” changyoon explains, before wincing. maybe he was expecting to get hit again?

hyojin sighs. “it’s fine. it’s on the way, anyway. let’s go?” he asks, before downing what’s left of his drink and standing up.

changyoon nods happily. “you’re the best and i love you?” he offers.

hyojin pushes changyoon. “ew. you can be sappy after i’ve eaten,” he laughs. “now get me some food.”

-

“come in with me?” changyoon asks, once they’re in front of WM. “i swear i saw the ghost last time, and i don’t want to face it alone.”

“well, why do i have to see it?” hyojin grumbles, but he opens the door for changyoon anyway. hyojin’s not heartless enough to ditch him, especially when he’s buying him food. but if he’s being really honest, he’d accompany changyoon regardless.

“what room did you leave your stuff in?” hyojin asks as they climb up the stairs, before coming to a realization.

“should we have asked the security guards for the keys?” hyojin pauses, before turning around. “wait, we should have, hold on, let’s go back -“

“wait!” changyoon calls, his voice amplified in the empty stairwell. hyojin reaches to cover his ears.

“oh, sorry, that was too loud,” changyoon realizes belatedly. “but trust me, we don’t need the keys.”

“what do you mean we don’t need the keys? the security guards always lock everything up after the office workers leave.” hyojin says, puzzled.

“minkyun’s in that room, he’s the one that told me i left my sweater there.” changyoon explains, as he continues to climb the stairs. instinctively, hyojin follows him.

“but why didn’t you tell me before? you could have told me that minkyun was there when you said that you left your wallet here.” hyojin asks.

“well i - uh, i forgot?” changyoon stammers.

hyojin frowns. changyoon is somehow being even more suspicious then when he ate hyojin’s dumplings, which is very confusing. something about his words are not adding up. he opens his mouth to ask something else, before being interrupted by changyoon.

“okay, we’re here!” changyoon exclaims, opening the door. except it doesn’t lead to the second or third floor like hyojin had expected.

“why are we on the roof?” hyojin asks, following changyoon before stopping in his tracks.

“oh hey, you’re here!” minkyun exclaims.

except it’s not just minkyun. the rest of the members are all there, bizarrely sitting in a circle on a large blanket on the roof. there’s various soda cans scattered around the edge of their huddle, and a couple of chip bags lie in the middle. if hyojin didn’t know better, he’d guess by the food that it was a poorly prepared picnic or a decently prepared sleepover.

“what …?” hyojin trails off in confusion.

next to him, changyoon breathes a sigh of relief and runs towards the rest of the members. “i am never doing this again. that was the most stressful hour or whatever of my life. i am incapable of lying, i swear he almost caught me twice, i have aged because of this -“

“oh, be quiet, this was your fault anyway.” minkyun snaps, but without a single hint of malice in his voice.

“so, um?” hyojin asks, frozen in place, as changyoon and minkyun bicker in the background. “what?”

“well, uh, this might sound pretty dumb, but you were really out of it in practice today.” jaeyoung starts, standing up and walking towards him. the rest of them do the same, abandoning their drinks and their snacks. “you were listening to what the teacher said and doing the dance moves correctly and everything, but it was like you weren’t actually there? you didn’t even say ‘bye’ back when minkyun and i left.”

darn. he was being obvious. hyojin opens his mouth, ready to give some kind of excuse, but seungjoon cuts him off.

“we wanted to ask you about it, but we didn’t know what to say and we didn’t want to make it awkward for you. and you mentioned how looking at the sky clears your mind, right? so we thought it would be nice to stargaze together? except it’s really cloudy …” seungjoon trails off.

hyojin looks up. seungjoon’s right, he can barely see the moon behind the clouds, let alone any stars. but the mere fact that his members came together and planned this in the first place is really, really nice.

hyojin looks around again and thinks. he knows for a fact that no one had chips at their dorm (seungjoon recently confiscated them all and donated them to the staff when he was feeling particularly sensitive about his self induced diet), so someone had went out and bought all the snacks so they’d have something to eat. someone had brought drinks so they wouldn’t get thirsty. someone had lugged this very big blanket up many flights of stairs so they’d have someplace clean to sit. someone had suggested doing this because they thought he felt bad, and someone had planned the event, even taking care to keep it a secret, to make him feel better. and they did this in their spare time, instead of practicing more or taking a well deserved break, for him.

they planned this all for him.

jaeyoung takes his silence as a bad thing, and hurriedly chimes in. “i mean, this might not have been what you were thinking of when you said you liked the galaxy, and we can always do something else! we don’t have a group practice tomorrow anyway, so we can do something fun tonight.”

“no, no! i’m just … this is good. actually, this is perfect. i - you didn’t have to do this, but it’s really thoughtful, and i?” hyojin buffers, completely lost for words.

seungjoon takes his arm. “you can just say thank you, and come sit with us.” he laughs, guiding hyojin back to their blanket where they’ve conveniently left a space for him to sit.

yuto hands him a coke as he takes his place, and hyojin wordlessly opens it and takes a sip. “thank you,” hyojin says, after a short pause. “i’m serious. this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“you’re always trying to take care of us, yeah? we can do this for you.” minkyun says, and it’s so thoughtful hyojin winces a little. he’s not in the right headspace to vent about his emotions right now. he’s not even sure if he has the right words for them. maybe later, when he has them sorted out in his head, he’ll share them with the others. but for now, he just wants to spend some time together, in each other's proximity.

hyojin normally looks to the sky to clear his head, but for once, his mind is blissfully empty. something about this entire situation brings him genuine peace and he’s extremely grateful for that. it’s not like he tries to overthink or overwork himself, but he somehow ends up overdoing things anyway. very rarely does hyojin let himself sit back and just do things. very rarely does hyojin let himself be content with just being enough, and not more. right here and right now, though, hyojin feels like enough.

“so that’s why changyoon ate my dumplings.” hyojin realizes belatedly.

the rooftop was silent before, but somehow it becomes even quieter. “changyoon stole your food?” yuto whispers in horror.

“okay, in my defence!” changyoon screams, raising his hand. “i wouldn’t have had to resort to this if you guys didn’t make me bring him here! you know i’m bad at lying, and you still chose me! i needed a reason to be nervous in front of him!”

“and you’re still alive?” seungjoon asks, shocked. “after eating his food?���

“barely.” changyoon complains. “he makes a pillow hurt.”

“i knew you wouldn’t be so dumb as to eat my food for no reason.” hyojin mutters under his breath.

“do you know how many times i nearly had a heart attack because of you?” changyoon begins, pointing an accusatory finger at hyojin. “when you came out of your room i was so stressed. we were all texting each other trying to make plans, and i was eating your food, and i had to pretend i was texting minkyun about something normal and not this whole surprise event. and then i had to make a dumb excuse to get you here, and i said i left my wallet in my coat — why would i even wear a coat, it’s summer?”

hyojin didn’t even notice that. probably because he was so caught up on the food he was missing that he didn’t even see the signs right in front of him.

“i realized it the second after i said it, but i’m so grateful you didn’t call me out for it. and then you asked me about the keys, and of course we didn’t need the keys because everyone was already here, so i had to make up another lie about minkyun, except it didn’t even make sense because i totally would have mentioned it before, and this was just an overall traumatic experience. kim hyojin, never ask me another question again.” changyoon finishes dramatically.

“but we wouldn’t have made you do this alone if you didn’t try to add hyojin to the group chat. this is technically your own fault.” minkyun points out, and hyojin frowns. “what groupchat?” hyojin asks.

“you didn’t get the notifications?” seungjoon asks, and hyojin shakes his head.

“so seungjoon tried to make a groupchat with all the members except you so we could figure out what to do together, right?” minkyun starts. “but changyoon, this absolute idiot, literally asks, ‘oh, why aren’t we just using the groupchat we already have’ and adds you. why do you think we left him out in the first place?”

“it was an honest mistake!” changyoon whines. “anyone could have done it!”

“but you did it.” minkyun teases, and changyoon stutters out excuses.

“wait, but you had no clue that we were doing this?” jaeyoung asks. “i figured we ruined it after we added you to the groupchat by accident.”

“i didn’t even get the notifications, though, are you -? oh.” hyojin says.

“what?” yuto asks.

“i turned my notifications off after i said bye to you and seungjoon.” hyojin realizes.

“then i didn’t even ruin anything! it didn’t have to be me in the first place!” changyoon screams. “this is so unfair!”

“but hey, at least you were successful.” seungjoon points out, and everyone else nods.

“the emotional trauma? that you put me through? what about that?” changyoon asks, but he’s interrupted by the sound of jaeyoung slapping his own arm.

“sorry, mosquito.” jaeyoung explains sheepishly.

“shoot, we forgot about bugs.” seungjoon sighs. “do you want to just go inside? we can order chicken or something.”

“actually, that sounds great right now. i haven’t had dinner yet, and i’m so hungry.” hyojin says happily.

“you didn’t have dinner? i literally brought you food!” seungjoon complains.

“okay, but after changyoon ate my dumplings, did you really think i was going to focus on eating over revenge?”

seungjoon pauses. “yeah, never mind. but still!”

“it’s okay, i’ll eat it later.” hyojin says. “but let’s order something in for now? and we should probably clean all this up, too.”

“we’re going inside? good, i’m getting cold.” yuto adds, standing up and picking up his empty coke can and a half eaten bag of chips.

“do you want to sleep over in the practice room?” minkyun suggests, laughing. “we’re already ordering chicken, this is basically our trainee days all over again.”

“you know what, i’m actually down for that.” jaeyoung says, grinning. “if they let us do it five years ago, they’ll let us do it now.”

“honestly?” hyojin asks, smiling one of his first real smiles. he hasn’t been this content for a while. “that sounds really, really good.”

it’s been a while, hyojin thinks as they clean up, since he’s been truly happy like this. it's been a while, he thinks, since everything has felt right. but here, in this space with five of the people he loves the most, he feels like enough. and for now, that’s all that matters.

[blu-joons]

Pregnancy with Jungkook ~ BTS Headcanon

Finding Out You’re Pregnant

Jungkook was beyond ecstatic when you told him you were pregnant

You had a sneaky suspicion after missing a couple of periods, and when you confided in Jungkook, he suggested you might be pregnant

On his way home from the studio Jungkook brought you five tests, all coming out positive

He’d argue otherwise, but you definitely saw a few tears in his eyes

“I’ve just got something in my eye that’s all.”

Jungkook couldn’t wait tot tell his family, he knew his family would be just as excited as you both were

If you thought this boy was affectionate before, pregnancy took it to a whole new level

He was forever hugging you with his hands pressed firmly to your tummy

You chose not to announce the new publicly straight away, enjoying the time just the two of you

The boys were equally as excited, their golden maknae was growing up

“Baby JK, how exciting!”

It was a very emotional few days as you both came to terms with the prospect of parenthood

Jungkook tried to spend as much as time with you as possible, skipping work when he could

He made sure to keep one of the tests as a little memento

Even after just a few days he had so many plans in his head, gathering little things he found

Being Pregnant

The two of you decided to wait until the usual 12 week scan before announcing your pregnancy

It was at that point your bump also began to form

Jungkook was very handsy with your bump, always feeling it, because unsurprisingly it felt bigger everyday

“Do you not find it weird how your tummy has just become really round.”

“Thanks Kookie, I hadn’t noticed the fact my tummy was getting big.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, so interesting to see.”

He also came up with the idea to get a cast made of your bump as a little memory piece

Every Sunday he would look on Google to see the size of your baby

“Today little one, you are the size of an orange.”

The fans were thrilled, your post-box was filled with little gifts from the kind hearted Army

Without fail, Jungkook went to every single appointment of yours

He printed thousands of your scan photos out, proudly showing them to everyone

Jungkook was an absolute saint when it came to your morning sickness

He carried a hairband on his wrist all the time as a just in case

At least ten times a day he texts you to make sure you aren’t in any pain

Decorating the nursery was a big deal for him

The two of you decided not to find out the gender of your baby

You went for a light grey theme as Jungkook had read that it was good for babies

Every night he would lay with his head right by your tummy, talking to your baby

“In just three months you’re going to be cuddled up in my arms and I cannot wait.”

He prayed that his baby would have your good looks so he could coo over them

You weren’t allowed to do anything around the house, he would do absolutely everything

You wanted a cup of tea? Jungkook was there to fetch you one

Jungkook was already in the car on the way to the shop before you even had chance to finish moaning about your cravings

His shirts looked amazing over your baby bump

A lot of your journey was photographed and videoed, vowing one day to compile it all together

Every weekend his parents would visit, wanting to make sure the two of you were doing alright

If you even so much as move a finger when you’re asleep, Jungkook jolts awake making sure you’re fine

He stocks up on lots of baby products so you never run out

Money is no object when it comes to your babies

Jungkook and their uncles spoil them rotten, with beautiful things for the nursery

Surprisingly, he loved going to your baby yoga classes, practicing techniques when you get home

You definitely had a cute nickname for your baby, ‘sprout’

“Is there not something a bit more cute that we could call our baby?”

“Sprout is cute, it’s like a little sprout growing inside of you babe, into a beautiful baby.”

Your mood swings were an unfortunate part of your pregnancy, but Jungkook understood that

Whenever you visited the studio you were treated like a queen

Jin would cook for you, Namjoon finding you a chair, whilst Hobi talked to the baby, Jin would massage your shoulders, whilst Tae and Yoongi sat and listened to how you were

As important as the baby was, you were just as important

He’s very cuddly, he loves to cuddle you and baby to sleep

The first time he felt the baby kick he was an emotional wreck

“We’ve got a little wriggler in their love.”

It was a huge moment for him to have the first physical contact with his baby

When you were in pain he would always talk to the baby, scolding them to behave for you

The saying eating for two was definitely applicable for you

You were always hungry sending Jungkook to the shop for resources

He paid attention to every word your doctor’s told you

Any time he saw your baby scans his face was a picture

He was so full of love, for the both of you, excited by the prospect of fatherhood

As you got later into the pregnancy, Jungkook took on a lot of responsibility, making sure everything was ready

If he was honest, he wasn’t ready for your pregnancy to end, you were stunning with the bump

“I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, carrying my child.”

Nerves began to set in as you reached the thirty seven weeks

You would both sit up late at night and reassure each other that you were a team and would do it together

He took lots of photos of your bump as a keepsake

And to show your child in the future

Labour

Your labour began in the early hours of the morning, your stomach causing you a lot of pain

You woke Jungkook who sat up and stayed with you, doing anything to take your pain away

As you stood up to go to the toilets, you felt your waters break

Jungkook froze, the realisation hit him hard

You panicked too, turning to look at him for a bit of help

Once he’d gathered himself he loaded you into the car and drove you to the hospital

The baby bag was one of the jobs he’d given himself to sort out for you both beforehand

He sped through the traffic, he wanted to get you to the hospital as quick as possible

His hand rested on your thigh the entire time

“Keep breathing babe, you’re doing great.”

Jungkook never left your side throughout the whole labour

His hand was always in his, ignoring the pain of your tight grip

He’d wipe your forehead with paper towels, pressing a kiss to it

His words were very helpful, he kept reassuring and encouraging you

You tried to have a natural birth, just using gas and air to get your through

But, the pain became slightly overwhelming

“Get an epidural love, it won’t make you any more weak to take the pain away.”

Jungkook really struggled to see you in so much pain

He would try and encourage you to nap in between your contractions

After nearly twenty-five hours of labour the midwife gave you the cue to push

JK was with you every step of the way, holding your hand, pressing a soft kisses to the top of your head

His eyes tried to look down as he saw his baby be born too, he wanted to be there for you both

As the head emerged, Jungkook’s tears already began to flow

“Keep going babe, keep pushing, I’m so proud of you.”

Throughout your whole pregnancy he had been an absolute rock, supporting you always

The moment your baby entered the world felt like a dream

Jungkook collapsed around you, as you calmed yourself down, trying to catch a peek

Your midwife took your baby, informing you that you’d had a healthy baby boy

There were a lot of tears as your son was brought to you for the first time, resting in your arms

His eyes couldn’t look away, stroking the few tufts of dark hair your son already had

He took a lot of photos of the three of you, saving them all for his little album

The two of you had already decided on names, regardless of a boy or girl

He was very quick to ring his mum, barely able to contain his excitement

You could hear her crying on the other end of the line which was so sweet

The First Hours

Neither of you dare left your son’s side for the first few hours, taking in what was before you

He had the tiniest hands, which already he kept wrapping around your individual fingers

His eyes were the same dark shade as Jungkook’s, melting your heart

After a few hours he decided to send a picture to the other member’s

They all sent back the sweetest messages, expressing their excitement to meet the little one

Honestly, you were both just in bliss

Every so often you could hear a few sobs escape from Jungkook, as you reached across to wipe away his tears

Cuddles were a must, he would walk around your suite rocking him to sleep

Your room was filled with presents from all your friends and families

However, the thought of taking him home terrified you, without the midwives there to support you

“Don’t worry love, he is going home to a loving family, he doesn’t need anything else in life.”

You chose to breastfeed, knowing it was the best option for him

The first time you stood up was incredibly painful, JK had to help you up, whilst you groaned in agony

The First Few Days

You took your son home the following day, approaching your house to see banners everywhere

His parents had snuck in and decorated the place, tidying everything so the house was perfect

His mum instantly went for cuddles, expressing her pride in you both

“I’m so grateful Jungkook found someone like you Y/N, you’ve given him the greatest gift in life”

The whole first few days were a rollercoaster as you adjusted to life with a new-born

There were a lot of sleepless nights as you both adjusted to the tears

His playroom was filled with teddies from his uncles that they’d bought before the birth

The internet was definitely your friend as you searched assurance you were doing alright

Your family was in an adorable bubble for a while, nothing could ruin your happy family

Meeting The Boys

You took your son to meet the boys a week after the birth once things finally started to feel normal

Taehyung took photos of everyone to keep for a band album for the future

Namjoon was telling you about all the things he’d read about babies, giving you the best tips and advice

Yoongi was a little apprehensive to hold the baby, but as soon as he did, his heart melted at your son’s adorable face

Hobi attacked him with tickles, playing games of peekaboo to keep him giggling and squirming

“Where’s Hobi? There’s Hobi!”

Jin was the same, blowing raspberries and poking his little dimpled cheeks

Jimin was thrilled, wherever your son was, Jimin could definitely be found by his side

You always knew his uncles would smother him, but seeing how protective they already were overwhelmed you

The two of you had to fight them for your son back to be able to take him home

They were the sweetest, making the studio nice and quiet, creating the perfect lighting

The boys had done their research to ensure you would keep bringing your son for studio visits

The Future

Looking forwards all you wanted was a happy and healthy baby

Jungkook knew very quickly that the two of you were made for parenting

It was his favourite thing to see you as a doting mother

“Do you reckon at some point in the future we could have another?”

“I think one is enough for now.”

Jungkook never wanted to leave the bubble the two of you lived in, completely obsessed with the incredible family he had been so luckily blessed with

Masterlist

[argylemnwrites]

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Epilogue

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~2200

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: Moving forward, together.

Author’s Note: This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

“So, who owns this place again?”

“It’s Cam’s uncle’s girlfriend’s sister’s building.”

“And we trust her… why?”

“Because she is fine with Cam vouching for us, so no income minimum, no issue with your lack of credit history, and no broker’s fee.”

Drake nodded. It still felt kind of shady to him, going to check out random units they heard about from different people they were tangentially connected to, but he was deferring to Riley completely, seeing as he had never been responsible for finding his own housing in his life. And apartment hunting in New York, it turned out, was a complicated task.

Back in February, when they’d started trying to figure out what neighborhoods to consider, Riley had told him not to bother searching the units listed on basically any website.

“There’s gonna be massive broker’s fees, and they probably won’t take us since we won’t have a guarantor. There’s a lot of scams, too. Just talk to your coworkers, word of mouth is going to be the best way to do this,” she’d warned him. 

Drake had done as she’d asked, but the units that his connections, the ones at the law firm he’d been sent to as coverage for one of the assistants who was out after surgery, recommended had not been a good fit. One didn’t allow dogs, one had been a definite bait and switch scam that looked nothing like the pictures he’d been shown, and the one they’d checked out last week was nice, but they would have needed a roommate to make it affordable, something they both weren’t really interested in doing.

But today they were checking out a one bedroom place in the Kensington neighborhood in Brooklyn that she’d heard about through one of her managers. They were supposed to meet with the building owner at 3 o’clock, so they had taken the F train over just after lunch so that Drake could get a better feel for the area.

Now that it was April, the weather was finally feeling like spring more consistently. It really couldn’t have been a nicer day for them to walk around the neighborhood. Drake was shocked at how close they were to a park. It was crowded as all get out, given that everyone and their mother seemed to want to take advantage of the pleasant day, but Prospect Park was large, had fishing spots, and most importantly, was some actual green space. While there were still numerous restaurants in the neighborhood, it felt so much more residential than their current apartment’s location. Drake could actually see why people would choose to live in a place like this.

The building owner, Kris, let them in and showed them up to the second floor walk-up she was looking to lease. It was in an older building, but everything looked well maintained at least. And it was big, probably twice as big as their current apartment. Drake was sure the fact that he’d been living in a 35 square meter studio for over four months was influencing him, but it just felt larger than his quarters at the palace had been, even though he was sure that wasn’t the case.

He wandered around, checking out the bedroom while Riley chatted specifics with Kris. After their first apartment tour a couple of weekends ago, they’d both quickly decided that was the best approach. Not only did Riley have more experience and knew the better questions to ask, but when left to her own devices, she was often able to charm landlords into throwing in some sort of perk, like waiving the pet fee or granting them some flexibility on move in dates. It was best to let her just do her thing.

As he checked out the closet space, it hit him how different his life was now than it was even six months ago. That Drake would have just been amazed that Riley would ever willingly choose to be with him over Liam. He could have never pictured himself choosing an apartment in New York with her. Sitting down and making plans for the future with her. 

It was easy to look at her and say that the change was all about her. And to an extent, that was true. He probably wouldn’t have found the motivation to make any changes in his life if he hadn’t met her. But it really was about more than that. It was about stepping up, letting go of the past, and taking ownership of his own happiness. He remembered Riley yelling at him, telling him he was scared to make changes in his life because he might still end up miserable on the other side of them. Basically telling him he needed to stop making himself a victim by his own choosing. And she’d been right.

Sure, some things were still a work in progress. Their visit to Texas a handful of weeks ago had proven that his relationship with his mother was not going to be mended overnight, after all. But on the other hand, he was hard pressed to imagine the man he was six months ago willingly getting an office job and going out for drinks after work with colleagues. He probably also wouldn’t have gotten a more “professional” haircut at the advice of one of those coworkers in hopes of turning a temp job into a permanent one. He would have fought such advice tooth and nail, insisting that anyone who cared that much about something as dumb as a haircut was a stuck up asshole, not worth his time. And while part of him still felt that way, he now saw it was a small price to pay to try and gain a more stable income so that Riley could cut down to part time at the bar and go back to college in the fall and work on finishing those last two semesters. Plus, she seemed to like his cleaned up cut, which was an added bonus.

The only way her going back to school was even a possibility was actually because of Maxwell. When he had let them know he was coming to New York for a “business venture,” they had both been confused, to say the least. But, when they met up with him for dinner and drinks, he’d told them he had found a way to bring some much needed cash to the Beaumonts - he had sold the rights to a holiday movie to the Hallmark channel, and that the script was so well received that they wanted him to keep writing for them. This had meant nothing to Drake himself, but Riley had just laughed, explaining that it was a TV network that made dozens of cheesy romance movies each year, many of them centered around Christmas.

When pressed, Maxwell had informed them, rather reluctantly, that the plot of the movie centered around a New York City waitress who came to a European country as the date of a prince for some Christmas ball, but ended up falling in love with his best friend. Despite Maxwell’s assurances that he was barely inspired by them and that all the names and locations were changed and that Christmas had nothing to do with Riley’s time in Cordonia, Drake and Riley had called him out on profiting off their story. Eventually, they struck a deal - they got a percentage of his payout for the script, which was going to cover most of Riley’s first semester tuition, and Maxwell had to help them with their move. It still irritated Drake a bit that Maxwell had just decided to throw their story out there for the world, but Liam had told him he approved the script and said it really wasn’t identifying at all, so Drake just decided to be grateful that Maxwell had not only brought Riley into his life, but also was giving her a ticket towards a job that didn’t require her to work a shitton of nights and weekends.

Drake wandered back towards the living and kitchen area, passing Riley and Kris in the narrow hallway, looking at the bathroom. He squeezed her hand as he passed them, and she threw him a little wink. He took in the main space of the apartment. They would be able to get a couch and a TV in there with their table, maybe even a bookcase. The kitchen was actually pretty nice, too. It probably had three times as much counter space as their current place. Everything here felt like it could work.

He opened the cabinets absentmindedly, half checking out the storage space, half waiting to see what Riley had to say about the place. After a couple more minutes, Riley and Kris came back out.

“Alright, well I’ll give you two a minute to talk it over,” said Kris, heading to the door, “I’ll be back in a few and you can let me know if you want to go forward with a lease.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Kris.” said Riley, leaning against the end of the counter.

As soon as the door latched, Riley looked up at Drake, “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s great. It feels too good, to be honest. How bad’s the rent?”

Riley paused for a couple seconds, “1850.”

“That can’t be right. That’s less than what we’re paying now, and it’s so much bigger.”

She chuckled a little bit, “Well, that’s the beauty of not living in a prime neighborhood.”

Drake just shook his head. He considered this location to be far more desirable than their current one, but he knew he was in the minority there. “What do you think about it?”

“I think this could be a really good fit for us.”

“You’re okay with his neighborhood?”

She nodded and gave him a smile, “This is a pretty diverse area of the city, so the restaurant options are good, and there’s decent access to the Q and F trains, so the commute shouldn’t be too bad.” She stood up and joined him further in the kitchen, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s be real, Drake. I’m not going to be as hard to please with this as you are. So, you gotta be honest with me. Can you see yourself here?”

He nodded, “Yeah, Liu. I can. I love this place.”

“Really?”

“Really. Is she willing to lease to us?”

“It seems like it. It sounds like her last tenant moved out unexpectedly, and her late partner used to handle the financial side of things, so she just wants to rent it out as quickly as possible.”

“And she’s cool with Anderson?”

“She told me she’s fine with small breeds.”

“Great, let’s sign.”

“Woah there,” she said, laughing, “And they say I’m the impulsive one.”

“What’s to discuss, Liu? Do you think we’re gonna find a better place than this one?”

She just shook her head and shrugged a little.

“Okay, then I stand by my statement  - we should sign the lease today. If she’s motivated to lease this unit quickly, don’t we need to jump on it?”

“I just want you to be sure, Drake,” Riley said, biting her lip slightly before she continued, “Last time you moved on a whim, things kind of… blew up for us for a while.”

Drake let out a little snort, “I think this is a little different, Liu.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “That may be the case, but I want us to actually take a minute and think about this. Make sure we can see ourselves here, okay?” And with that she plopped down on the floor, laying back and closing her eyes.

“Uh, Liu… what the fuck are you doing?”

She opened one eye and squinted at him, “I’m just taking a moment to tune out everything else and think about this. You should try it,” she said, waving him down.

Drake rolled his eyes, but sat down on the kitchen floor and leaned back slowly in the opposite direction. This seemed dumb as hell, but if it’s what she needed from him to not feel like he was going to flake out on her, he would do it.

They laid like that for almost a minute, breathing slowly. No fears or concerns or worries crept into his mind, which he was pretty sure was the point of this exercise. He wasn’t sure how long they were supposed to do this, but then he heard her moving and felt her curl her body against his head, snaking her hand under his neck and resting her head on his chest.

“So, any reservations about his place?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. Her eyes were staring back at him, wide and dark.

“None,” he said shaking his head slightly, “I think the fact that there’s enough floor space in the kitchen for us to do this has just convinced me even more.”

She chuckled softly, tracing soft circles along his neck with her fingers. “So, you want to sign the lease then?”

“Yeah, Liu,” he said, letting his eyes fall shut at her soothing touch, “This feels like home.”

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019   @sirbeepsalot  @texaskitten30   @princessleac1  @ladyangel70  @dcbbw  @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only:  @jovialyouthmusic  @iplaydrake  @gibbles82  @drakewalkerisreal  @riley--walker​ @notoriouscs​  @butindeed​  @addictedtodrakefanfic​  

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon  @thesumofmychoices​  @cosigottahavefaith​   @thequeenchoices​  @katedrakeohd​  @feartheendlesssummer​  @ao719​  @ooo-barff-ooo​   @sunnyxdazed​

[minsugapie]

Bodyguard (part 1)

pairing: bodyguard!Jungkook x idol!reader

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

words: 6532

a/n: Happy Birthday to my birth year twin, a truly sweet and sexy boi whom i can’t help but admire his dedication and personality, and my #1 bias wrecker...

• • • • • •

PART 2

• • • • • •

“Y/N, your new bodyguard is starting tomorrow, so be sure to be as welcoming as you can. He will not only be a part of your team, he will be with you at all times. Due to your rising popularity, it is necessary for us to take extra precautions for your safety. You don’t have to talk to him or like him, but it is crucial that you learn to trust him with your life. His main purpose in life has now become your protection.”

What your manager Jin was explaining to you was intense, and you didn’t know what to do with the information. You didn’t want to have someone with you at all times, let alone some butch man you’d never met before. It just didn’t sound appealing to you in the slightest. Plus, how popular were you getting that a man had literally given up his life to serve yours? It wasn’t like you were the goddamn Queen of England.

You knew you were gaining popularity, but you didn’t think you needed a babysitter. At that moment, you couldn’t think of one thing that was positive about this situation. You were a generally a closed-off person when it came to your private affairs, and he was clearly going to be an invasion of that said privacy. 

So, it was safe to say that when you went to bed that night, you didn’t get much sleep, thinking about the possibilities of your not getting along with your new bodyguard. 

When the morning finally rolled around, you knew that you looked tired. Your eyes were puffy, your skin was dull and your hair was just sticking up at all the wrong places. Checking your schedule for the day on your phone, you realized that you had a few interviews to get through today, so you needed to head to hair and makeup right away. 

However, as soon as you walked through the door to your company, you received a text from Jin, telling you to come to his office right away. There’d been a slight change of plans in the morning’s schedule. You headed straight there, only to be greeted by a young face that you’d never seen before when you opened the door. His eyes were looking at his shoes, and he had his hands tucked safely in his pockets. He wasn’t all that large compared to what you thought he would have been. In fact, he looked like your average popular, gym-buff from school, who clearly knew that he was easy on the eyes. 

“This is Jeon Jungkook, your new personal bodyguard. Jeon, this is Y/N,” his voice was strained, looking between the two of you. Hopefully, she was receiving your death glare. You’d barely woken up this morning, before putting on a mask and a hat before leaving your dorm. You were expecting some middle-aged dad-bodied man with old man strength and experience behind his belt to be your bodyguard, but this guy was young, arguably your age, and he was definitely inexperienced. 

When he finally looked up at you, you gave him your best disinterested glare. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge the clear fact that you also thought he was easy on the eyes. 

Jungkook’s facial expression remained neutral as he bowed in front of you. You reciprocated the action and then turned to Jin again. “I should be getting to hair and makeup...”

“You’re right. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you. Jungkook will be coming with you starting now, so show him around, will you?”

Grumbling, you exited the room, not waiting for Jungkook to follow you, but judging by the quiet footsteps behind you, he was right on your tail. You told him what was behind every door as you passed them. 

Hair and makeup had always been your sanctuary. You put on your favourite music, shut your eyes and let the professionals do their job. But today was different; there was bump in the road. Even thought Jungkook didn’t say much, you could feel his brown eyes on you at all times, unnerving you. You cracked an eye open at him, and he didn’t change expression.

“Jeon,” you tested out his name on your lips. 

“What can I do for you?” He formally asked, never breaking eye-contact with you. 

“You don’t have to look at me at all times. Take a break. I don’t think anything is going to happen to me here. I’m with these people every day,” you insisted, praying for the hair and makeup team to back you up. 

However, the woman currently applying your foundation, trying to give your skin some life, said, “Actually, we were told that he’d be here with you and on watch, so it’s fine.”

You looked at Jungkook, and he nodded. You spoke to him again, “So what’s supposed to happen now? Are you just going to be with me all the time? Don’t you ever get time off?”

“I’m paid extremely well to keep you safe. Vacation is overrated.”

“Ok, but don’t you have to go home at night?”

He looked embarrassed at your question, scratching the back of his neck. “Um, they’ve relocated me to the dorm across the hall from yours…in case something happens at night.”

You groaned. You were being treated like a baby now. That was just great. 

Weeks went by with Jungkook by your side, but he still didn’t talk much. The only thing that he’d had to save you from so far was taking a sip of your coffee that was too hot. He’d noticed how hot it was when he gave it to you, and when you went to drink it, he swiped it away again, and told you that you needed to wait a minute, so you didn’t burn your tongue. 

What a hero. 

You’d gradually accepted that he was here to stay, so you began to share things about your life, receiving the occasional smile. He knew about your cousin (who was like a sister) that you’d always been jealous of although you two had an amazing relationship. He knew about your struggle with self-love and how you’d overcome some dark times in your life. He knew about your dog that lived with your parents that you couldn’t wait to visit. 

He knew you liked to be alone, but he figured out that you liked to be alone all by himself. 

You’d told Jungkook so much about your life that he had to be the person that knew you the best. He saw you every morning when you looked your worst, with an attitude. He saw you with full performance makeup and costume with your charm turned up. 

He would take you to your favourite restaurants that you hadn’t been able to visit since becoming famous, ordering whatever you suggested to him because it was your favourite. He was never picky and ate everything.

He would take you shopping, carrying all your bags with pleasure, and tell you his opinion on whatever you were wearing. According to him, you “looked perfect in anything”, but not matter how often you told him that all you wanted was for him to tell you the truth and be real with you, his response never changed. 

He would sit with you in your apartment and watch your favourite movies when you felt particularly sad or lonely, always asking you the right questions. It was during the movies when he would talk the most. And when you finally fell asleep, because you always fell asleep during movies, he would carry you to your bed and make sure that you were tucked in before silently slipping across the hallway to his own place. 

After a few months went by, you’d started to watch Jungkook watch you. Although he felt like a real friend in your heart, he really didn’t act like one. He was strictly professional. He always sported an expressionless face; his posture was always perfect; he made sure never to look you in the eye for too long. He really was all business. 

One night, you were working with two of your company’s producers, Suga and RM, but they were good friends of yours, so they were known to you as Yoon and Monie. Jungkook was sitting in the corner, eyes watching his fingers as you could tell that he was trying not to fall asleep. You couldn’t imagine how boring it would be to follow you around all day, especially writing days. 

“Jeon is taking his job really seriously. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated,” Namjoon commented, bringing his headphones from over his ears. Yoongi followed suit, and the three of you took a break. 

You cocked your head at the man bobbing his head, silently snapping his fingers to stay awake, eyes falling shut. “Yeah, he’s doing a good job, I guess. Although, nothing has been life-threatening so far, so we’ll see.”

You stared at Jungkook until he abruptly sat up straighter and opened his eyes, pushing his hair from his face. It had been getting long, and it often flopped over his eyes. You doubted he’d gotten it trimmed since you two met. A brief thought flashed through your mind, surprising you. Yet, it wasn’t that surprising either… You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. 

He noticed the three of you staring at him, and he apologized. It wasn’t like it mattered to any of you what Jungkook did during your studio time. Nothing was going to happen. However, having three people stare at you was surely not the most comfortable thing. 

You yawned, looking at the clock. It was already past midnight, and you had an early morning, so you said, “Hey boys, let’s wrap this up because I have a busy day tomorrow, and this gal needs her beauty sleep.”

Rolling his eyes, Joon teased, “You could sleep for an eternity, and it wouldn’t help.”

Feigning hurt, you squeezed your shirt at your chest and grunted, “Ouch, that shit hurted, Monie.”

“Yah, we all know he’s kidding. Joon was the first person to talk to you when you were a trainee, and actually he tried to hi—ow!” Yoongi’s words were interrupted by Joon’s fist connecting with his arm. 

You smirked at your friends. You were grateful that Joon had spoken to you when he did, and the boys didn’t know it, but you knew that Joon had wanted to ask you out. However, you never led him on because you weren’t allowed to date. “We all know I’m not allowed to date, so it doesn’t matter what Joon thought of me,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ear before picking up your notebook and resuming your lyric editing. “Besides, I’m not really into music producers as of late…”

Yoongi was back to working before you even said your last statement, clearly also wanting to get to bed, but Joon was distracted. “What do you mean you’re not into them as of late? You were into them at one point? You’re into someone else now?”

Jungkook was watching you carefully, unbeknownst to you. He had been curious about your relationship to the two boys, and how close you actually were. It didn’t surprise him that you had caught the eye of the younger of the two producers, but he had no clue that you weren’t actually allowed to date them…or anyone at all for that matter. 

One other thing caught his attention, however, and it was the fact that you were possibly into a specific someone. It shouldn’t have been important to him, but he was your bodyguard, and he needed to make sure that you were safe and protected. If that meant warding of men who wanted to get you into their bed, then so be it. 

“I’m not sure,” you pondered, eyes flickering over to your bodyguard for a brief moment before wandering around the rest of the room. “I mean, yeah, I was interested in you when I first started out at the company, but now you’re just like an older brother. Recently, my thoughts have been tugging me towards men with a more hands-on profession.”

With a deep sigh, Namjoon turned back to his computer screen, shaking his head. “Women are so confusing…”

You worked in silence for another hour, finally settling on the arrangement of the lyrics before falling asleep in your chair, not phased from being under constant watch. So, when Jungkook saw that you fell asleep, he knew that it was time to take you back to your dorm. “Suga, RM, I better take her home.”

The boys were surprised to hear him speak, probably forgetting that he was in the room. They watched as Jungkook crouched in front of your chair, lightly shaking your shoulder to wake you up. “Y/N,” he whispered, “I’ll take you home, okay?”

Eyes still closed, you didn’t want to wake up. In your groggy state, you mumbled,“Jungkookie, will you carry me to bed tonight too?”

Jungkook was visibly surprised by the nickname you’d called him while the other two boys were surprised at your words, neither having been privy to any information regarding how close you and Jungkook had gotten. 

“I can’t carry you all the way back, so you have to get up,” he whispered, tugging at your arms to pull you into a sitting position. 

You pouted, still not opening your eyes when you bargained, “What about a piggy back?”

He didn’t even blink before he agreed. “Fine, you just have to get up for a minute to get on my back, okay?” You didn’t realize because of how sleepy you were, but Jungkook completely lost all professionalism when talking to you as you were sleepy. There just wasn’t any need because you weren’t rational anyways. 

“Okay,” you yawned, slowly getting to your feet. Cracking one eye open and then the other, you stood on the chair and draped your hands around his shoulders. You legs wrapped around his waist instantly as he held them tightly. 

Yoongi and Namjoon were silently observing the scene unfolding before them. By the way that your hands held him close and head nestled into the crook of his neck, they knew that he was the man with a hands-on profession that you’d mentioned earlier. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile when you said quickly, “Don’t forget my bag,” causing Jungkook to scramble around to gather your things with you on his back. 

Right before exiting the studio, Jungkook turned to them and made brief eye-contact. Judging by the slightly painful but also comforted look on his face, he reciprocated any feelings you had, maybe even surpassed them. Hell, Yoongi would have bet that he was in love with you. 

That’s it. That’s what a simple look can give away. 

So when Jungkook, left the room, they spoke about what they saw.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was in agony. Whenever, you asked to be close to him, it twisted the knife just a little but more. But now, with your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and your lips brushing the exposed skin of his neck, he was just about ready to quit being your bodyguard.

The company’s exact words from the interview rang through his ears. If you are offered this position and accept it, you must comply by these conditions amongst many other written ones in the contract. You must not enter into a romantic relationship with the artist. You must not allow her to wander off alone. You must be with her and comply to her requests (unless they go against the rules). You must give your life over to her protection.

It had been easy for him to agree to the terms when he’d been interviewed because he was fuelled by his wanting to provide for his family, who was struggling to make ends meet. He’d never met nor seen you and was convinced that you were just some spoiled idol, who needed protection. What he didn’t think would happen was his feelings coming into play. 

During the drive home, the thought of quitting and never seeing you again hurt enough, probably more so than the discomfort he felt by being around you. He couldn’t quit, especially after you’d asked him to stay with you that night when he tucked you in to bed. He would never trust anyone else to keep you safe the way that he trusted himself to you. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered, grabbing ahold of his wrist before he could walk out of the room, “stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t. I need to go back to my place to shower and get some rest.”

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You knew you sounded as if you were going to cry, and it wouldn’t be the first time.

“You’re not alone. I’m just across the hall,” he countered, trying to back away from you again. This time the succeeded. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Jungkook left you all alone that night, wondering if you even meant anything to him. 

A few more weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that your relationship with Jungkook was purely professional, not that it was really anything else. You admitted to yourself that you developed a large crush on the guy. He was actually perfect, well, perfect for you anyways. Nobody was without their faults. 

You were at your favourite coffee spot, working on your laptop while Jungkook read the free newspaper that was on display at the entrance. He hadn’t wanted to leave the company this afternoon between practices, because there had been news that a sasaeng of yours was running around somewhere close, but you needed some air. So both you and Jungkook were wearing masks and hats, to try to conceal as much as you could. 

However, you’d been spotted in the shop somehow, and there was a swarm around your tables. People aggressively started surrounding the two of you, and for people that supposedly loved you, they sure didn’t care about your well-being. Jungkook stood up and tried to get you out of there as safely and quickly as possible. He didn’t even have to think about it. It was practically the most natural thing he could have done. 

While he was pulling you away and trying to keep people from touching you, there were photos being taking of you, and literally everyone was trying to pull you away from your bodyguard. You didn’t really know what was happening since it was all happening so quickly, but just as you made it to the door of the shop, you felt someone shove you, almost pushing you to the ground. 

Jungkook’s hands wrapped around you, and somehow, he managed to get the both of you out of there and away from the crazy crowd. It really was all a blur. Before you knew it, you were in the car and on the road, out of breath and speechless. You’d never been surrounded like that before when you weren’t at a concert or the airport. In the car, you were able to outrun everyone, so he took you home (where the didn’t know you lived) instead of back to the company. 

When you got there, nobody having followed you, you didn’t get out of the car. Jungkook’s voice finally sounded through the thick car air, and he was asking you, “Are you okay? You need to tell me if you’re fine.”

He was looking you in the eye, longer and with more intensity than he ever had. You were still trying to get it together. You were used to fans and paparazzi, but you weren’t used to being thrown around like you were in a boxing ring. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, reaching over to him and placing a lingering kiss on his mouth without a second thought. 

It was already a long second into the kiss before you even realized what you had done, and when you finally backed away, Jungkook looked stunned. You were stunned that you’d done it. 

After clearing his throat, Jungkook stated simply, “It’s my job,” at the same time as you said, “I’m sorry for that.”

You quickly and immediately covered your face, embarrassed. Before anything else could be said or done you hastily exited the car and rushed to your dorm. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. There was no way that you’d just kissed Jungkook. He was your bodyguard, and he was completely off limits for multiple reasons. 

Sure, he’d looked extra appealing today, hair wavy and long, face fresh, and a clean smell. His smell, amongst other things about him, affected you. But this clearly was not allowed. You weren’t allowed to date…period, and he wasn’t allowed to date whomever he was guarding, and it your case, you. Your manager had told you that. 

Once you closed the door to your dorm, you groaned and smacked your palm to your forehead. How would you face him tomorrow morning? You’d have to apologize again and tell him that it was a mistake and that it meant nothing. He’d simply gotten you out of a really sticky situation, and you were grateful. That was it. 

It was two days later when you were finally able to look at and to talk to Jungkook again. You wondered if he would initiate any conversation, but it seemed like he was content just waiting and doing his job. Not a good morning greeting was exchanged between the two of you. Maybe he really did think nothing of it, and that you were just a job. 

Secretly, you hoped he didn’t think that. He had to at least think of you as a friend, right?

So when you were in your studio, trying to memorize your new songs, you had to talk to him. His staring was simply driving you insane. “Sorry, but I need to apologize to you again for a couple nights ago after the incident…I didn’t mean to kiss you, and it meant nothing. I was just very thankful that you got me out of that situation when you did…”

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. It’s my job to keep you happy and safe, and that’s what I did,” Jungkook’s voice sounded sure, but you were unable to read the expression on his face. 

You honestly had no idea what he was thinking most of the time. He had a very good poker face when it came to you. Apparently, he wasn’t all that reserved when he wasn’t with you. He was goofy and liked pushing people’s buttons. You guessed he just didn’t think he could be himself when he was with you. 

“You don’t care that I kissed you?” You asked, nervously playing with a thread on your shirt. Your lyrics were temporarily forgotten.

“No.”

“No, you care? Or no, you don’t care?”

“I do not care,” he didn’t hesitate, but he wouldn’t look at your eyes. His eyes were looking at your feet. 

Jungkook did care, though. He cared a lot because he liked it. In fact, it was something he’d thought about often. You liked ice cream, and he liked watching you eat ice cream. You ate an apple every day at 11:00, and he never missed witnessing it. You bit your lip when you were frustrated. You stuck out your tongue when you concentrated. The list of things you did with your mouth was endless. There was one thing you’d never done, until last night, that he had desperately wanted. 

You didn’t exactly make it easy on him. He was paid to watch you, and you were attractive. He had tried to convince himself many times that it was simply a passing thought, and that it was only because he had to look at you that he thought about it. 

However, since your little kiss in the car the other night, all the thoughts he’d ever had that involved your mouth came rushing to his brain.

So in conclusion, yes, he technically cared like he’d previously admitted to himself, but not in the sense that you were asking. 

After a brief moment, when Jungkook’s eyes finally shifted to yours, you blurted, “Did you like it?”

Now, Jungkook hesitated. You saw the slight fear on his face, but he didn’t give much else away. His body language was still reserved, hands in his pockets, hair covering his face, body looking rigid on the couch. “I could get fired if I answer that question.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything…it was a stupid thing to ask. It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to go to the bathroom…” You knew that what you had asked was unfair. He was there for your protection not to fall in love with you (or even just kiss you). 

However, Jungkook grabbed your arm on your way past him just as you were about to exit your studio. “Wait, I didn’t say that I didn’t want to answer it.”

You were confused. What were you supposed to do? Looking him directly, you let your eyes wander around his face, memorizing all the features you’d seen many times before. “I wouldn’t tell anybody, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I like having you as my bodyguard, and I like having you around. You’re my best friend.”

A slight tug on your arm was enough for Jungkook to pull you to him, onto him. It was odd, being this close to him. You were sitting across his legs, face only inches from his. 

“I liked it,” his breath was hot on your lips. You watched his eyes shift between yours and your lips. From this proximity, you noticed things about Jungkook that you never had before. There was a scar on his cheekbone, there were little moles on his face, the brown of his eyes shifted with every blink. 

His head tilted to the side when you didn’t answer, hands hesitantly finding a spot to rest. You wondered again what exactly he was thinking, but you wouldn’t let this moment go to waste. You shifted in his lap, so you were straddling him before hesitantly kissing him again. 

His hands finally found their place on your hips, bringing you closer to him, while yours moved up his chest and liked behind his neck. His lips felt amazing when they were moving against your own. It was different from before because two were actually participating. Jungkook’s mouth opened easily against yours, and it surprised you because the hesitation he seemed to have before had disappeared. 

You were seeing stars behind your eyes as his kisses drugged you. His lips moved expertly, and he seemed to know exactly what you enjoyed, and what he was doing. Your knees squeezed his waist as you moved your hands through his hair. It was as soft as you imagined. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook whispered, making eye contact with you for a second before kissing along your jaw and down your neck to the base of your throat. 

“I know, Jungkook, just don’t stop,” you breathily managed to reply. At this rate, you didn’t think that you’d be able to stop this. You hadn’t realized just how much your body was craving Jungkook until this moment. Judging by his eagerness to keep you close to him, he didn’t want  it to stop either. 

Gaining courage and taking a leap, you pulled at Jungkook, guiding him on top of you on the couch. You’d never be able to look at this couch the same again. You’d forever have the mental imagine of Jungkook laying on top of you on your brain. After this, you were sure that you didn’t want this to be the last time that Jungkook put his lips on yours. 

You crossed your legs around his waist, pulling him to you as close as you were able. His hands, although holding him up, lost all control. He rested his lower body hard onto yours and ran a hand from your knee, down your leg, over your hip, and up to your breast. You were covered in goosebumps (both from the cool air in the studio and how excited the situation at hand made you). 

It had been so long since you’d last been with anyone. When he’d been hired, you the only feeling you felt towards the guy was the fact that you didn’t want to be around him. Now, your feelings had done a full 180º turn. You wouldn’t say you loved him, but you were definitely harbouring a major crush on him. If you didn’t know before, you definitely knew now. 

You couldn’t help but rub up against him. It was becoming too much for you, waiting for him to initiate anything more, so you let your hands move up his shirt, taking your time feeling the muscles underneath. 

He took a sharp intake of breath when he felt your fingers; you figured it was because they were freezing, but there could have been other reasons as well. “Take it off,” you urged him, bringing the shirt up to his shoulders. He wasted no time in removing the article of clothing, evening the playing field when he urged your sweater over your head. 

Jungkook took in your body just as you did his. It was like time stopped at the two of you stared at each other with small smiles on your faces. Neither of you could really believe what was going on, or how it happened.

You knew deep down that you could get Jungkook fired for this, so it wouldn’t be able to leave this room or your dorms, but you hoped Jungkook would be willing to continue seeing you, regardless of his duties and obligations as your official bodyguard. 

You pulled him down to you again, practically forcing his tongue inside your mouth because you wanted it so badly. He smiled against your lips, lightly biting your lower lip to tease you. “Shouldn’t you be working? Your comeback is in two weeks,” he asked between deep kisses. 

“Yeah,” you replied, making no effort to stop what you were doing and get back to work.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Yoongi’s voice, “Y/N, I’m coming in.”

“Holy fuck!” You shoved Jungkook off of you as quickly as possible while trying to find your sweater. You were able to pull it over your head just as Yoongi’s eyes made contact with yours. Jungkook, unfortunately, was still struggling to tug his shirt over his head. 

You knew you were busted. You really needed to remember to lock that door. 

There was a guilty look plastered across your face, your lips pursed together, and you couldn’t look away from Yoongi. He was wearing a knowing smirk as he looked between you and Jungkook, who had finally regained his composure. 

“Your sweatshirt is on backwards, and bunny boy over here is sporting a hard on,” Yoongi commented. You hadn’t realized that you hood was in front until that second, and you automatically blushed.

“Yoongi, you can’t tell anyone!” You blurted, falling to your friend and begging him.

“I’m aware that he could get fired for this, so I won’t say a thing. I’m telling Joon, though, because he can’t be out of the group,” Yoongi promised. 

You looked at Jungkook, and his eyes were wide, looking confused as to what was going on. He was still hard, but there was nothing you could do about it now. You were sure that had Yoongi not come barging in, both of you would be feeling amazing right now. 

Taking a deep breath, you arranged your sweater and sat back down at your desk, picking up your lyrics again. You did need to get back to work. You needed to memorize the lyrics by this afternoon because you’d be learning the choreography then. “Why are you even here, Yoongi?”

Jungkook took a seat on the couch again, leaning his head back. How could he have let it go that far? Surely, this would just make your relationship complicated. He’d never be able to look at you again. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so they sent me down here to tell you that you need to be in the dance studio in an hour. Good thing I volunteered, or both of you would be in big trouble, and you’d be without a bodyguard,” Yoongi answered you, words hitting Jungkook hard. 

He had to ask himself: what was more important, his job or you? It was so messed up because you were his job. He knew now that he’d spend even more time and effort guarding you because he had deep feelings that were possibly reciprocated. Doubt crossed his mind that you were just using him. After all, you were an idol and he was simply some boy from Busan that was hired to guard you. He hadn’t even wanted to be your bodyguard and had no idea who you were when he accepted the position. 

Fuck it all. 

The looks that you and Jungkook had been sending each other for the next couple days were loaded. You wanted to go back to your apartment and finish what you’d started, but by the end of these long practice days, you were exhausted and didn’t have it in you. 

It was break time in the practice studio, and you were hanging with Jimin, j-hope and Taehyung, three of your backup dancers. They’d been with you since the beginning, and you’d really missed them while you were on your “break”. 

“Jeon is looking at you again,” Jimin commented, playing with your hands. He was a touchy guy, and he calmed you down when he played with your hands. 

“That’s his job, Chim,” you replied, taking a quick peak at Jungkook. He was looking at you, and you knew that it was a different look than it had been before your moment in your personal studio. You hadn’t had a chance to really talk about what had happened, and now that it had sunken in a lot, you were nervous. Today, his long hair was draped over his dark eyes and he looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. 

“…Yeah, but it’s different, this time,” Taehyung noticed, taking a large swig from his water bottle. 

You continued to stare at Jungkook, a small smile starting to form on your face. 

You hadn’t told him that you wanted to seriously be with him yet, but you were planning to. Actually, it was going to be public. You’d written him a song, and it had taken you only an hour to completely write the lyrics. Yoongi produced it, so it was definitely fire. He meant a lot to you, and as long as he could be with you, you were going to lie to your company. 

It was going to be released as a b-side to your comeback single, and only a select few would know that it was for him. It would be your confession to him.

“Look, they can’t stop staring at each other. I bet they hooked up,” j-hope teased, poking your arm to get you out of the trance you were in. 

Your eyes widened, and you flushed all over.

“Hah! That response confirms it!” Jimin laughed, falling over onto the ground. It wasn’t abnormal for your little circle to be sitting on the floor, laughing, so nobody questioned it. 

“I’m going to have to work so hard to hide this,” you sighed. Jungkook seemed to notice your change of mood. You were no longer smiling or laughing. His smile faded and he looked as though he wanted to go to you and check out the situation right away. You shook your head briefly for him to stay where he was. 

“This is just too good. You’ve followed the rules for your whole life. I’m so proud that you’re saying fuck the system!” Tae was impressed, and you knew at least you had the support of all your friends.

• • • • • •

“Y/N’s comeback single performance last night broke the internet. So many people are buzzing about it. She’s never looked happier, many people noticed, and she seemed more lively and excited. It was a new side of her that everyone never knew that they needed. In addition to the new single, people are questioning the b-side song, which seems to have been written about someone special. She’s yet to comment on it, but we’re hoping that she will soon. The real question, however, is who she whispered Happy Birthday to at the end…” Jungkook’s phone sounded from across the room. 

You had just gotten out of the recording studio. You were working on your album, which was set to come out before Christmas. Jungkook was seated across from you while the producers and your manager took a slight coffee and bathroom break. You laid on the carpeted floor and stretched your back. 

“Y/N, I need to ask you about this song,” Jungkook whispered, visibly shook. 

“Happy Birthday, Jungkook,” you whispered, not moving from your position on the ground. Your eyes remained closed as you smiled. 

“But I don’t understand.”

You sighed. He was sure oblivious sometimes. You got up and went to sit beside him. His hair had gotten longer than you’d ever seen it, and you pushed it back from his face. You quickly removed your hands in case someone walked in. 

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you took a deep breath. Your legs were brushing as you linked your fingers through his. At least this was a position you’d be able to break apart quickly if someone walked it. It was no surprised that the two of you had become friends, and Jin was aware that you’d become friendly (he just didn’t know how friendly). 

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Jungkook admitted before quickly adding, “and I’m guessing the song was for me? At least, I hope it was…”

“The song was for you because I don’t think I can do any of this without you anymore. I definitely did not think that I’d feel this way towards you, but I do.”

Jungkook was watching your entwined hands as he rubbed his fingers along your knuckles. “So what are we going to do?”

“I think we have to keep us a secret until we feel like we can tell Jin. Who knows? Maybe he will be accepting…”

“I think it will be kind of exciting,” he smiled, leaning his head on yours. “Let me cook you dinner tonight.”

“You’ve cooked me dinner so many times.”

“But tonight will be different. It’ll be our first date,” he interjected. 

“It’s a date.”

Little did the pair know, but there had been a camera, documenting the making of this album, that had accidentally been left on. Jin would know in two days. 

• • • • • •

MASTERLIST