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I Want You to Stay (13) | JJK
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of injury, trauma; family drama; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; they're still idiots; explicit sexual content (making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, mutual masturbation, protected sex) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 29k
Series Masterlist
Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
A/N: It's here! This is a long one so I hope you enjoy and savour it all. We're close to the end! So thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰
You take up Yoongi’s offer of a listening ear on Saturday, the day after your last day at the company. You spent last night wallowing in sadness over not being able to see Jungkook during your farewell dinner and in regret for not telling him what you wanted to say - that you were thankful, that you wished the Arts Center would be everything he imagined it would be, and that hopefully, you’ll see him again.
Maybe if he showed up, you would’ve said more - that you’re terrified of everything he makes you feel, that you’re too burdened by your past, and that you want him even if you don’t know if you’re ready to be with him.
You spent much of today convincing yourself that it was better that you didn’t see him, even if you kept imagining his shy smile and the feel of his lips against yours, and then you got frustrated all over again.
With all that’s going on in your head, you figured that spending dinner on your own today would make you feel more sorry for yourself, so you’re currently seated in front of Yoongi with your wonton soup barely touched while he’s just slurped the remaining noodles of his.
“Your soup’s getting cold,” he nudges your foot as you mindlessly gaze at your bowl. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”
“Apparently, I don’t eat much when I’m sad,” you sigh, turning to him.
“Well, that sucks. It’s really good soup,” he hums.
Yoongi looks at you patiently just as he has for the past half hour. You told him you wanted to eat out, and he agreed immediately, even offering to drive you home after. But you haven’t said much since you arrived at the restaurant and he hasn’t forced you to say anything either.
“I’m sorry for not being a fun dinner partner tonight,” you say.
“It’s okay. When I told you the other week to call me if you wanted to talk, I didn’t expect you to actually talk,” he chuckles. “I know sometimes you just need someone to be with. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you reply. “I can't even figure myself out.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it,” he counters. “Human beings are complex, yes. But feelings of desire aren’t. They’re quite straightforward. You want something and that should tell you everything. It’s pride and fear that complicate things. If you set those aside, then you’ll be able to figure out what you really feel.”
“What if they contradict each other?”
“The push and pull isn’t always equal though. One overpowers the other in some way. So you’re either more happy about leaving or more sad about it. And then ask yourself why.”
“I’m sad about leaving Jungkook,” you admit. “I don’t regret my decision but it doesn’t make me happy right now.”
“And why doesn’t it make you happy?”
“Because it hurt him. And then it hurt me.”
“Why did it hurt the both of you?”
“I don’t know about him,” you pout.
“Then what about you? Why did it hurt you?”
“Because he kept his distance - he replaced me, shut me out. And then he didn’t show up to my farewell dinner.”
“So what’s painful about that?” Yoongi pushes, wanting to help you make sense of things.
“Because I want him close to me,” you say quietly, letting the words sink in. You’ve always known this, but saying it to someone else somehow makes it feel more real this time. “I want him… with me.”
“Told you it was simple,” Yoongi shrugs.
“But it isn’t,” you argue.
Yoongi is a straightforward man, and you suppose the only way for him to understand is for you to tell him the truth, so that’s what you do.
You tell him about your ties to the Jeon family, why you stayed in the company for as long as you did, all the attempts at leaving, and the plan of doing so after the Arts Center opening. You share about your life in the process - your childhood of staying at the library and your coping mechanisms, your life in Busan, going back to Daegu then leaving for Seoul, working to repay a debt, and then losing yourself because of it. You talk about the closeness you developed with Jungkook, all the times that he was there for you, the kiss and the aftermath, why you pushed him away and why you also feel bad about how he reacted. You say a bit about the things that scare you - getting hurt being one of them - and why staying for Jungkook would be difficult, and why leaving him would be the same.
Yoongi looks at you earnestly. He’s always known about you being guarded, keeping parts of yourself that you don’t really share with others. This is the farthest you’ve let him into your world, and he sees so much of Jungkook in you. There’s that fear of not being wanted but also of being wanted; you’re scared of not being enough to be loved but also of not loving the other person enough. You’re unable to express how you feel because you don’t know if the person will respond with the same vulnerability and honesty, and you don’t like baring yourself with no one there to tell you it’s alright.
All of it feels like how his friend is. He’s seen it since the moment Jungkook stepped foot into the office a year ago; he’s seen it everytime Jungkook disengages from you or gets mad at you; he’s seen it even when you’ve started to become comfortable with each other, and Yoongi has seen it these past weeks of Jungkook dealing with your departure, especially recently.
“So after all that, you mean to tell me that you didn’t actually tell him how you feel?” Yoongi points out. “That he just overheard you say that you like him but you didn’t actually tell him? Not your feelings nor your fears, not your contradicting emotions, nor the fact that you want to be with him? Because I’m hearing you, ___. And all I hear is that you’ve found someone you’re willing to give your heart to but you’re too afraid to do anything about it. Even after he’s told you how he feels, because you don’t think that he would be open and honest enough to you to mean them.”
You let out a breath and pout, Yoongi’s words making it seem simpler than it actually is. In hindsight, maybe it is, because after everything that you shared, the first thing he points out is how, despite the obvious reciprocated feelings, you’re the one who’s afraid to give in.
“You talked about how Jungkook made you feel braver during the times you were scared and alone and hurt,” Yoongi says, seething at your experiences that made you look towards Jungkook for strength. “Why can’t you be brave enough for him? I mean, I get it that you want to leave the company, no one questions why you would. He did but he’s accepted it because he understands, but why do you have to let him go? Is it just because of the ties to his family? Or is it because you’re afraid of what he feels for you that isn’t tied to you being his assistant?”
His last question causes your face to fall, and Yoongi knows he’s hit a nerve.
“You’ve been living your life trying to prove that you’re more than your past, that you’re capable and that you deserve all that you have now,” he adds. “This job was your life. You told me before that you don’t know if you’d like yourself outside of it, and maybe you’re thinking that Jungkook wouldn’t, either.”
“I… don’t think I’m that great, Yoongi,” you confess. “I mean, just think about what the guys I dated said about me.”
“Those don’t count because they’re absolute jerks.”
“Even then, I… I’m terrible at a lot of things. I pull away, I get scared, I… I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. I don’t know if I want to be. I don’t know if I can, or what that even means,” you stammer. “For a second there, I let my guard down for Jungkook and—”
“He did the same and that terrifies you,” Yoongi finishes. “Being wanted back terrifies you. It’s why you feel confused and conflicted, ___. You have the chance to have something you’ve been yearning for and—”
“I’m scared I’d lose it,” you interject. “And I won’t if I don’t have it. I’m scared of heartbreak, Yoongi. I gave in when it came to Jungkook but I saw the possibilities with him and heartbreak was one of them. This is why I don’t give in to anything. I mean, it’s why I didn’t give in to you. I… I was scared we’d hurt each other and that I’d lose you and… I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now.”
“It’s good that you are,” he assures you. “Because do you see the difference? You didn’t give in to me but you did to him. You never know if the person is worth the pain until it’s there but you at least know that he’s worth a try. I wasn’t, and I don’t take offense, but that’s the point. He’s the guy you try for, ___. He’s the one you climb out your walls for. So don’t cower inside. Be brave for him this time.”
It’s a while before you’re able to say anything. The background chatter in the noodle house fades away in your mind as you take in Yoongi’s words. And he’s not wrong.
You never told Jungkook what you felt; you didn’t know how to. You kissed him to express that, but you pushed him away just as quickly, but you never got to say anything else, especially after. And now you’re left to wonder - what was the fear really about? And what was the need to let go of him because of it?
You’re scared of a lot of things; you’re scared of every single thing you want to have. You learned some time ago that Jungkook was the same, but you think that you’re probably more terrified than he is.
You’re a walking contradiction, too - you want to cut ties with him because it reminds you of a past you don’t want to be defined by, but in doing so, you’re cutting yourself off as what you started as - his assistant, and you’re scared to be anything else but that. You were good at it - you were competent, capable; you managed his life and the team well. But being with him means you have to be someone else for him - his partner, his companion, his lover, and you don’t know how to be those things for him. You don’t know if you’d like yourself, and so you don’t know if he’d like you if you tried. And that scares you.
But like Yoongi said, you thought Jungkook was at least worth it; you wouldn’t have kissed him if you didn’t, even if you thought it was a moment of weakness. You just have to follow through with that belief this time, and be brave enough to not just want him because you do; you have to be brave enough to let him want you back. You have to be brave enough to believe that he’ll stay.
“How… how do I do that? How do you become brave for someone?” You finally ask.
Yoongi relaxes in his seat, his eyes the most comforting they’ve ever been.
“You just tell them how you feel,” he says. “You face it head on because you know that there’s something more important than a possible heartbreak, and that’s losing on the possibility of happiness with them.”
You let out a breath. You know Yoongi’s right. You’d said that you want to know how it’s like to be truly happy with Jungkook, and it’s this paralyzing fear and stubbornness that’s keeping you from finding out. But you suppose that when you’ve gotten used to keeping a lot of things in, just telling someone how you feel isn’t that easy.
“It’s hard for you, I know,” he continues, reading your mind. “But how would you learn what your heart is capable of if you don’t follow it?”
“Then you’ll just risk it getting broken,” you argue.
“You do,” he hums. “Hearts break. But it’s not the only thing they do.”
The words are simple, just as the thought is. You almost feel embarrassed that Yoongi has to remind you of these things, about the inevitability of pain and loss and how it should be worth it in the end. But the fear comes from somewhere, from a heart that’s close to your own that shattered so many times, you wondered at one point if it was still capable of loving.
“I told you that I never met my dad, right?” You share, willing to bare a bit more of yourself to him. “He left before I was born because he wasn’t ready. But mom… Mom loved him deeply. I found a photo of them under her pillow one time and I asked her about it, and she had me lay my head on her lap while she told me about him. I was around 6 years old and probably didn’t understand much but I felt her tears drop on my cheek, and then everyday for weeks, I’d hear her cry, all alone in her room. And somehow, she just cried harder every time I hugged her.”
You remember those days. You learned what it felt like to have your heart broken at that age, and it was because of seeing your mom try to smile through glassy eyes; it was hearing her tell you that she loved you, even if the other half of you was the reason why she was hurting in the first place.
“Eventually a man came along and he made her laugh until he stopped,” you continue. “Until all he could do was hurt her. And that… that felt worse. She’d just learned to share herself again but then he just broke her. And I… I felt that, too. I felt it every time she hugged me, kissed me, covered my ears to drown out his yelling… I felt it every time I had my head on her lap so I wouldn’t see her break down.”
Your eyes wander into the streets outside, recalling those difficult years when your mother protected you, even as she was in pain herself.
“They say that a parent feels the pain their child is feeling,” you say. “I guess it’s true for children, too. I felt her pain, I felt her heart break. Her heart was my heart. And I guess ever since then I’ve just been scared for it to happen to me, knowing how much it hurts. It took years before she could recover. That was hard, too.”
“How long did it take her to give Min-woo a chance?”
“Years,” you shake your head. “She was so cautious. But he stuck around, and she realized he was worth it all. And she gained two other daughters who adore her in the process.”
“Her heart was your heart,” Yoongi repeats your words. “And all she did was love. That means your heart is capable of just as much. It’s just as strong, too.”
You’ve never thought about it that way. You've always believed that the one thing you took from your mother was her grace. Perhaps if you tried, you’d learn that you took her strength, too. Maybe her unyielding ability to care. Perhaps it’s her faith in what she was capable of no matter how broken she may be.
“I… I needed this,” you tell Yoongi, your eyes misty at his words. “It’s been hard understanding myself lately. And you, you just know me. You know what to say all the time.”
“It’s because I risked something, too, when I told you how I felt about you all those years ago,” he replies, the reminder of his unrequited feelings no longer awkward for either of you. “And at the end of it, I learned how I could care for you, and that I could care for you much better as a friend.”
“And well, you’ve been an amazing one to me, especially this past year.”
“Good, so for my sake, especially since you and Jungkook give me so much headache,” Yoongi laughs, “remember everything I said, okay? Your heart is capable of so much. So please give it a try and follow it. I doubt it will be broken this time around.”
You spend the entirety of Sunday at home, cleaning up the place and tending to your growing collection of plants. It was a cool enough day for you to walk up the neighborhood to buy some things from the store, and as Yoongi’s words from the night before ring in your head, you find yourself hurting more at the absence of Jungkook in your life.
There’s a new recipe for fried rice that you saw online, and he was your first thought because you think he’d like it. You read an article about Lee Jaemin in the morning where she mentioned the Arts Center, and you wanted to share it with him and gush over her words. His favorite Japanese chef has opened a new restaurant in Insadong and you wonder if he’s already tried it. The playground at the park is closed because they’re doing repairs after you told the council about how rusted the swings have become at Jungkook’s suggestion.
They’re little things, really, and you realize even more just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him, and how much of himself he’s shared as well. Whatever lines that were drawn up due to your respective positions were crossed long ago, even before that kiss. It started when you both started to care for each other, and when you both started to wish for the other’s happiness and healing. On your end, you’d hoped you’d be a part of that and that he’d be a part of yours. You don’t think that has changed though.
There are still many things you want to share with him, you realize again, especially on that Monday afternoon when you find yourself at Rkive Publishing for your contract signing that has you looking at Namjoon in question.
“Are… are you sure?“ you ask him, as you read through the document.
He’d sent a version of this for your review a few days ago and you’d given your verbal confirmation. You expected to come today to just sign the contract, but he asked you to review it again since he made a few changes. The salary is one of them.
“Are you asking me if I’m sure of offering you a higher compensation package?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.
“Y-yes?” You say. “I mean, not that I don’t prefer it but… why?”
You knew that working for a smaller organization, and for a publishing company at that, despite having a higher position and more responsibilities meant that your pay wouldn’t be significantly different from what you were getting at the Jeon Corporation. You’d accepted that, and it was something you’d talked about with Namjoon. But still, this little bit of increase is something you hadn’t expected.
“We’ll, let’s just say that we’ve had many applicants in the past who oversold themselves. You did the opposite,” he responds. “You impressed me and the panel enough with your resume and interview and we thought you were a good fit but that recommendation letter from your company’s President showed us just how qualified you were, and that there’s so much potential there. I was also able to speak with your most recent boss.”
“VP Jeon?”
“Yes, I was on a call with him last Friday. He elaborated on the strengths you’d mentioned and that Mr. Jung had noted,” Namjoon responds. “They’re top executives of a well-known company who have worked closely with you, who saw your growth, and can attest to your potential. Given all those qualities, we thought it was just fair that we increase your compensation. We’ve learned it’s important to trust and be committed to our staff, and this is how we show that.”
“This… this is deeply appreciated,” you manage to say, not realizing just how valuable the references were. You check to see that your responsibilities didn’t change much, so you know that this is really them, believing in your worth.
“We’re looking to expand in the next few years and are working towards establishing our position in the industry,” he adds. “We don’t just need competent individuals - we need leaders, we need people of good character who can embody all the things that we stand for. We’re trying to build something here and someone like you would be a wonderful asset. You can help us grow, ___. And I, well,” he continues, shyly smiling. “I just really wanted to make sure that we got a good start. Your role is critical. It’s also one of the toughest ones out there and I wanna show you that we want you here. I mean, I was sure a lot of companies were trying to get you and we’d have to compete for you.”
“I was already convinced early on, Namjoon,” you assure him. “To be honest, meeting you at the bookstore that day felt like some sign from the universe that it was time for me to carve my own path. I guess I didn’t just need a new environment, I needed a blank slate, too, where I could start over and feel like I was really doing this for myself, that I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else, not even to me.”
“Glad I took a chance on talking to you, then, even if I sort of freaked you out,” he chuckles. “I’m still sorry about that.”
“It was fine,” you laugh. “In hindsight, I’m also glad you did. I told you, it was a moment that stuck with me. It’s what pushed me to learn about what you’re all doing here, to learn about you. I… I do well when I’m surrounded by good people, by those who believe in their work, and those who believe in others. I know it won’t be easy but I already know I’ll thrive here. So thank you for giving me this chance, too.”
You and Namjoon talk some more and then lock in a date for your first day. You agree to start in three weeks - that gives you enough time to properly rest and mentally prepare yourself for this new phase. You’ll still be in a fast-paced and high-stress environment, but you’ll control your time and directly manage a team. Everything’s going to be new, and you want to be ready when it all happens, which is also why you’ll be doing your onboarding a few days before.
“I wanted to give this to you,” he says, handing you a book as he walks you out the door. “I always give one to new staff as a form of welcome because books are our heart and soul, you know?”
“This is lovely, Namjoon,” you smile at him. “This will definitely be my companion for the next few weeks.”
“Good. It’s always meaningful to have something tangible like this,” he smiles back.
There’s warmth in the way he does it, as if every time he talks about books, it elicits special memories. You think being around someone like that will be good for you, as you try to hold onto good memories yourself despite the sadness you still feel.
“I hope you like it,” he says before bidding you goodbye.
You walk through the neighborhood and picture yourself going through this route everyday. It’s definitely nothing like the busy streets that you’re used to. There are more trees and quaint cafes and boutique stores here, and even just this change is already making you feel lighter; you can imagine getting over your stress with surroundings like this. You suppose that’s how Namjoon remains as calm and hopeful as he is despite his responsibilities - there’s so much energy you get just being outdoors, and it’s something you decide you’ll do today.
You have all the time in the world now, so you grab coffee then head to a park to enjoy the early summer cool air.
The book that Namjoon gave you is a novel published five years ago about a woman who quit her job in search of herself. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, as in such a short time, you've come to know him as a thoughtful man who’s very assuring, and you suppose this is his way of telling you that everything will be okay as you take on this new journey alongside him. The bright color palette of the design seems to reflect the hopeful subject of the book, and right as you’re about to start reading, the sound of children laughing catches your attention.
There’s a playground nearby, and your mind immediately goes to Jungkook. There’s an image of him looking happy and safe in a place that made him feel those things that you keep in your heart. You don’t know how he looks like as a child but you can somehow imagine a little boy riding the swing and coming down the slide with the softest smile and thinking that he can do and be anything he wants, that he feels capable enough for it, and that he’s able to share that joy with whoever who’s with him.
You think about earlier when Namjoon was talking about your capabilities and how you were able to see yourself the way Jungkook and Hoseok see you as a professional. You think about how it felt being supported that way, how their trust and confidence in you made you trust and be confident in yourself, too. There’s this pride you feel at being able to make that much of an impression on your new boss early on and there’s no stress, there’s no pressure.
Sure, you want to show that all those aren’t empty words, but there’s no urge to prove yourself that you earned your spot unlike how you’ve been these past nine years. There’s just this desire to live - work is a part of it but so is reading stories, meeting people and learning about them, walking through quiet streets and appreciating the sunlight peeking through the trees. There’s this yearning to experience the day and not just survive it.
You look at the book in your hands and know that someday, you’ll be holding one that you had a hand in creating. And it would be something that you poured your heart and soul into, one that you experienced in its entirety, and it would make you so happy knowing that you could touch it, that you can hear it, that you can see the story come to life in your mind.
You trace your fingers down the front cover and realize that this beautiful thing is tangible. And then you realize another thing - happiness is tangible, too. You’d felt it, you’d heard it. You’d seen it smile at you. You’d felt its lips against yours, too, but then you pulled away and became too afraid to take it back. Happiness was so close - it breathed you in, it held you close; it wanted you, and you were too scared to let it stay.
You spent so many years chasing it. You’d found it in your friends and your new family, but there was always something more that you wanted, one that you couldn’t find. Until him. And you’re slowly learning just how painful it is to let it slip away.
Jungkook stays in your mind for the rest of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to share about your day.
You want to tell him that you felt a little shy when Namjoon was praising you but that you felt proud of yourself. And that you wanted to thank him.
You want to tell Jungkook that your new work environment is quite charming, that the surrounding areas are inspiring, and that you might just start spending time outdoors from now on. And that you wish you get to explore it with him.
You want to tell him that you’re excited to start your new job and that you’ll maybe start reading books because you’ll have a hand in creating the finished products. And that you want to share that with him, maybe make him read it, too.
You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have doubted what he felt, that you should've stood by your feelings regardless and fought for them. You want to tell him that you don’t regret quitting, but that you regret losing him in the process. That no matter how hard you try, he’s still the one you look for, the one you want to talk about your day with, the one you want to share your dream and hopes to.
Jungkook has made you feel free in a way that you hadn’t before - an irony, considering that working for his family made you feel constricted, burdened, stagnant. But there are so many possibilities with him, so many reasons - to smile, to be brave, to hope, to yearn for more, to believe that you deserve good things that you can touch. And you want to know what those are like; you don’t want to lose out on that chance and lose him completely.
Perhaps all you had to do was free your heart so it could feel what it’s supposed to. Like what Yoongi said, maybe you just had to follow it to know what it could do.
It’s why on Thursday of that week, you find yourself inside his office with an envelope in hand, as you hope that actually freeing your heart and following it isn’t too late.
You were scheduled to come today so you could get your final pay and sign some documents with HR. You arrived mid-morning and got to those right away. It didn’t take long, which is why you were able to pass by Hoseok’s office to update him about your new job and thank him for the recommendation. You headed to the support team’s office after, and they were quick to make lunch plans with you. Jungkook’s at the Arts Center, they said, so they can take their break in half an hour, but they can’t be out long. There are lots of things they have to do with the opening happening on Friday of the next week.
Lucas told you that he’d found some of your supplies that you’d left and they’re in a drawer in his desk, and you told him that you could get them yourself. They were easy to find, and you took the time to leave little notes for him in between folders and files; you figured that finding them on days when he doesn’t expect them could give him encouragement somehow.
Jungkook’s door was slightly opened, and you took the chance to enter and take in a piece of him. The last time you were here, it felt like there was so much you still couldn’t say, there were feelings you were too afraid to face and words you weren’t sure he wanted to hear. Being back here, you feel a lot braver, and you know it matters that now, you’re trying to be brave for him.
You stand in front of his desk, almost cradling the letter you’d written last night. You’ve spent the past days outdoors, finding cafes and quaint spots in areas that you’ve never explored before. You’ve been reading the book, too, and the more time you spent by yourself - not being tired, not being stressed, not feeling lost or burdened - the more you realized just how much you’ve been missing and yearning for things. And that you deserved whatever it was you wanted, and that included Jungkook.
The life you’d started to live without him convinced you that the intimacy and connection you’ve been desiring is something you can find with him. You want to know what that’s like; you want to know how happy you could be with him, and you’ll only know it if you express it to him this time. You owe it to him to do that; you’re scared that any more time apart will push both of you farther away, too far to pull the other back because the anchor wasn’t set securely in the first place. You don’t want him to be your what if; you don’t want him to be your biggest regret.
Telling him how you felt was another thing, though, and writing a letter took you longer than expected. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you could only hope he’ll see your sincerity through it, and that he’ll still want you, even if it took you quite a while to accept what he felt, too.
His desk isn’t as organized as it usually is, but you place the envelope on top of a folder of blueprints that you know he’s going to get to soon. You know how he is - he always likes his things in their proper place. The center is the urgent pile so you know he’s gonna find this once he gets back and that maybe, he’ll go to you right after, hopefully to tell you that he still wants you, that he still wants to be with you, and that like he’d asked before, you’ll figure things out together.
There’s fear just as there’s excitement. You hope at the end of all this, you’ll find yourself in his arms - everything forgiven, with nothing but more good memories you’ll create.
You head out to lunch with the team shortly after and hold off on asking how Jungkook’s doing or about the changes in the Arts Center. Everyone looks tired enough as it is and you don’t want them thinking about work during their break, so you settle on talking about your new job and how excited you are. They’ll be supporting the books, they say; you can’t help but think again about how much you want to share them with Jungkook, too.
You spend the rest of the day at home, waiting for that phone call from him or perhaps, his knock on your door. You’re unsure if he’ll come today; you don’t want to think that he wouldn’t, even if he has reasons not to want to see you anymore after what you’ve done.
But the hope lives, as you convince yourself in the evening that maybe he got back to the office late and hadn’t seen your letter.
You do the same thing the next day - you stay at home, hesitant to leave in case he comes, and then tell yourself that there’s a reason why he hasn’t shown up at your door yet.
You do it again the day after, then the next, and then again.
The hope remained but it has now withered away. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he still hasn’t come.
Jungkook sinks in the seat of his desk, breathing heavily as he tries to catch a break. It’s not much, but it’s the only moment he has of complete silence where he forces himself to not do or think about anything. He gives himself only ten minutes each day for this, other than when he’s sleeping. He does it only between meetings or calls or visits to the Arts Center, which he fits all in one day.
It’s only 2PM on Thursday but it might as well be late on a Friday evening. He’s exhausted, as if he hasn’t rested for days, as if he hasn’t been sleeping properly, and as if he hasn’t stopped working. And all of those are true.
Ever since he’d decided on making changes in the Arts Center, he’s been going nonstop. From drawing up the design, purchasing materials, to constructing the room, Jungkook has been doing it all, on top of managing the rest of the work being done. He’s employed the help of Yoongi and a project manager to help him, but Jungkook has been the one making all the decisions, and that definitely didn’t go well with his father.
He caught the ire of the old man right away, with the CEO scolding him for doing this weeks before the opening and for going over budget, which is why Jungkook stays in the Arts Center most of the day, going in the afternoon and then staying or returning at night, doing the manual labor himself so he doesn’t have to pay more for the workers. He paints the walls as well as some of the furniture, and that’s taken so much of him these past weeks, especially his time, time that he’d taken away from seeing you.
He wasn’t really present during your last days at the company. He approved all your leaves and he was sincere about having you take them, but during the days when you were in the office, he was barely there. He was either physically at the Center or his mind was.
Other times, he was performing his executive functions, with Hoseok reminding him of his Vice President duties. Jungkook had neglected some of them, as evidenced by his messy desk that’s giving him a headache. He’s always been organized with his things but not recently, not when all he’s been doing is working himself to the bone like what he’s used to. But this has more at stake for him; this isn’t just some structure or room he’s building. It’s so much more.
One other thing he’s been doing is regretting that he wasn’t there during your last day to bid you goodbye and to see you for the last time, it seemed like. He wished you well and thanked you, even if there was more he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and he wouldn’t have handled lingering, too, if that would give you a chance to say something more to him that would make him express what he’s really feeling, and he’s scared that would push you further away.
He was never good at that. The one time he told you what he wanted and felt, things didn’t go right - the timing was off, you doubted his sincerity, and there was so much you kept hidden from him. He hasn’t known what to do nor say since then, which is why he’s doing what he’s doing for you. It’s more than the words he doesn’t know how to say; it’s something he won’t regret as it expresses everything that’s been in his heart, and it’s lasting, it’s constant, it’s comforting; it’s everything he wants to be for you.
But then again, all this work kept him from seeing you for the last time, and it’s a reminder again of how he’s been living his life - diverting his attention to other things instead of facing what’s important.
There’s not much he can do now, though. Everything has been completed. All the certifications have been secured, all the invitations are out, the promotion for the opening is all over social media, and the support team is on top of everything that’ll take place tomorrow. With the end of it just within reach, he’s able to take a breath, and it’s why he’s able to extend his short break to 15 minutes.
The Arts Center is being cleaned and security checked, so he has no choice but to stay away from it until it opens tomorrow. So right now, he has the time to work on his other responsibilities, such as draft plans for a project that Hoseok’s working on that he’d asked Jungkook to review.
“I had Lucas leave the blueprints on your desk last week,” the older man says over the phone after being asked if the files are still with him. “You should see it right away. It was urgent so I told him to put it at the center.”
“Well, that’s one of many that’s apparently urgent,” Jungkook sighs as he sees the pile of documents in front of him. It seems like he’s neglected a lot of other things this past week. “When did you say you left them?”
“Thursday morning,” Hoseok responds. “You would’ve seen them immediately.”
“I would’ve… except I haven’t really been at my desk in days.”
Which is the truth. Jungkook has been sitting on his desk only to go through his emails and then signing documents that Lucas gives him before heading to meetings and the Arts Center. It’s been his schedule this entire week, which is why he hadn’t seen the designs that Hoseok’s talking about. And as Jungkook goes through the pile - of memos for checking, of studies from Yoongi - he sees something else that makes his heart drop.
The last time he found an envelope on his desk with your handwriting on it, his world took a complete turn. He remembers reading that resignation letter and thinking that he’d really screwed things up, that life wasn’t going to be the same without you next to him everyday, and that there was no way he could have you again after how things turned out.
He doesn’t know what to expect with this, not when he hasn’t seen you in days, and not when he doesn’t know how you’re doing right now.
“Kook?” Hoseok says on the other end after the prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”
“Did ___ come to the office this week?”
“She was here last Thursday. She signed some HR stuff and dropped by my room. Why?”
“She… she left a letter on my desk.”
“Oh… What does it say?”
“I… I haven’t opened it. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what’s inside,” Jungkook says, his hands trembling as he places it back down.
“It could be many things but you won’t know unless you read it,” Hoseok responds. “Both of you have been keeping your feelings to each other from each other, Kook. This… this might be something that changes that.”
“Did… did she say anything to you when she visited?”
“Just about her job. She seems content and excited. Whatever else she feels, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. So read it, and don’t worry about the designs. Those can wait.”
Jungkook drops the call, noting that he’ll thank his cousin later on. This letter is the most important thing right now, even if he’s nervous about what’s written on it.
He finally opens the envelope and the first thing he sees are pictures - one of an empty playground, and another one of you on the swing, smiling. It’s been weeks without your smile, and remembering how much comfort it’s given him is what makes him calm down; it’s what makes him have the courage to read through the letter.
Jungkook,
I took the photo of the playground during my birthday trip using the gift you got me. We passed by a park on the way to one of the towns and we stayed there for a while. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. I felt a kind of comfort I’ve never felt before, and it made me think of how I feel when I’m around you.
I was thinking of you, too, when Soomin took my photo. I seem to do that a lot, I’ve learned. I think of you and smile, and there’s this unfamiliar feeling of joy. There’s this yearning to feel it everyday, and that scares me. We kissed and the desire for you scared me even more. So did the thought that I can’t be what you need me to be despite what we feel, and that there's a possibility I’d get hurt along the way.
But I learned that what scares me the most is losing you.
I don’t regret leaving, but I regret how I did it, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I got to tell you what I really felt, and I wish I realized much sooner that the happiness I’ve been looking for is one I can find with you.
I’m scared of many things, Jungkook, but you make me braver. This is me being brave for you. Please come and find me. I hope it’s not too late.
XX
Jungkook reads the letter one more time. It’s nothing like he imagined but everything he hoped. You’ve wanted him all this time; you still want him after everything. He senses the sadness and the hope in your words, and they’re things he feels, too.
You want him to find you. And just like you, he hopes it’s not too late.
He rushes out of his room and instructs Lucas to cancel all his meetings for the day. Jungkook heads to the support team’s office to tell Mr. Ri that there’s somewhere important they need to go.
“Where to?” The older man asks once they get inside the car.
“___’s place,” Jungkook pants. “Get there as fast as you can.”
Mr. Ri doesn’t ask any more questions. He drives off and merely glances at the rear view mirror.
“We’ll get to her,” he says. “One way or another, we’ll get to her.”
Jungkook could only hope, but when he gets to your apartment and finds it empty, that hope slowly fades. He’d call you but that’s not how he wants to fix things, he thinks. That’s not how he wants to ask you to be with him. He probably won’t even be able to say what he really means. So he tries one more, knocking and calling out your name, but no one comes.
“She’s not here,” someone calls out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Jungkook turns around and finds your elderly neighbor, a woman he’d seen that one day he visited you after you got injured. You’ve mentioned her a few times and how she sends over food on some nights and invites you for tea on some weekends. She looks kind and warm, and definitely curious.
“She… she asked me to find her,” he says dejectedly. “But I didn’t know she wanted me to. I didn’t see her letter right away and now… now it’s too late.”
“You’re the man she was waiting for,” she hums, walking closer. “She’s right, you’re very handsome.”
“She… she talked about me?”
“A few times. I asked about how she got home when she hurt her ankle and she said you helped her,” the woman smiles. “I don’t see anybody visit her other than her friends. And I’ve known her for years; I haven’t seen any other man she’s allowed in her home in all that time, nor has she talked about one. I knew then you meant a lot to her. But she said things were too complicated and that always held her back.”
“That always held me back, too,” he responds. He’d smile at the thought that you’ve talked about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone. There’s a reason why you stopped waiting. “Has she been well?”
“She has. She seems to have more life in her now. I always felt like her old job tired her out so much,” she says. “She’s excited to start fresh, and I’m proud of her. Oftentimes we stay in one place for too long and we just lose ourselves in it, you know? We lose sight of the things that make us happy and it was really brave of her to leave behind everything she’s known.”
“It was. I know that now,” Jungkook sighs. “Did she say if she found it? What makes her happy?”
“She did. She said she found you.”
The words hit him, as he knows it’s the same for him. You may have found each other in the place you’ve both been in for so long, but it’s losing each other that perhaps made you both realize what it was you couldn’t live without. Letting each other go showed what happiness actually looked like, and that neither of you wanted to be without it anymore.
“I found her too late, I think.”
“That’s for her to decide, though. You won’t know unless you look for her,” she hints.
“When did she leave?”
“Tuesday afternoon. That was just two days ago. I doubt she’s changed her mind,” she smiles again. “Well, I’d love to stay here and chat but I have some grandchildren to pick up. And I believe you have someone to find.”
“I think I do,” he responds, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” she hums. “Get to her, okay? She deserves someone who won’t give up on her.”
You don’t, Jungkook agrees, as he nods in goodbye and heads back to the car. That’s not something he will do this time. All he’s done was let his fears and worries speak for him these past months and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, not when there’s more of you that he’ll lose.
“She’s not home,” Jungkook responds to Mr. Ri’s questioning look. “I… I didn’t get to her in time.”
“Where to, then?”
Jungkook breaks as he imagines you in your apartment, waiting for him, wondering when he’d call or knock on your door. He can’t imagine you still doing that after he made you wait, but the one thing he’ll do this time is go to where you are and tell you everything he needs to.
After the heartbreak he caused, he assumes you’d go to either your family or your friends. He remembers the way you’d talked about your mom in the past, and how her comfort was always the one you sought.
“Do you mind driving to Daegu?” Jungkook asks.
“Not at all,” Mr. Ri smiles. “I figure she’ll be there, too.”
The long drive feels that much longer with Jungkook in the passenger seat, just looking out the window and watching the buildings and houses pass him by. He turns to the man next to him every once in a while, asking about how you were during your last weeks in the office.
“She was trying her best, making sure she had everything organized. She spent a lot of time with the team, too, and I think that lessened her guilt, because she felt that,” Mr. Ri shares. “She hated that she had to leave at this time, but I knew it meant a lot to her that she was finally doing it.”
Jungkook hums, thankful that the team assured you that it was all okay. But still, he wondered some more, and the look on his face is something that the older man reads.
“She hated that she had to leave you, too,” Mr. Ri adds. “I think it mattered to her that she didn’t feel tied to your family through you, even if she was always going to be. It mattered that she made that choice to leave you, that she came to terms with who she is and her past and decided that it didn’t matter, that she still wanted you despite all of that.”
“You sound hopeful,” Jungkook laughs dryly. “That makes one of us.”
“You can tell how much someone cares by how they hurt, Jungkook. And during her farewell dinner when you didn’t show up, she… she was hurt,” Mr. Ri says. “I had to wipe her tears that night. I think that’s also when she realized how much she really felt for you, when she saw what life could be like without you and knew it wouldn’t make her happy.”
Knowing he made you cry again when he wasn’t there on your last day frustrates Jungkook. He held himself back that time, thinking that a short goodbye would be better for both of you. Then he spent the rest of the day at the Arts Center and he’d completely forgotten about the dinner. In his mind, he already let you go; seeing you another time would pain him again. But that’s what hurt you in return.
“Why are you going after her now?” Mr. Ri bursts through his thoughts. “After all these weeks of avoiding her, of convincing yourself that letting her go was the right decision, why now?”
“It hurts so much without her. I guess it’s how I know.”
The older man gives a satisfied smile. He always knew that only both of you could decide for yourselves when the pain was too much because only both of you would really know what to do about it. You've done your part and now it’s Jungkook’s turn.
They make it to your neighborhood in over three hours, with only one stop over at a service center. It’s the house in the corner, Mr. Ri says, and realizing that you’re so close again, Jungkook starts getting anxious. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. He supposes that coming out here to see you on a work day is enough of a statement, and maybe you’ll both just take it from there.
The car stops and he looks at the man to his left, as if pleading to take the lead for now.
“Aish,” Mr. Ri huffs. “Are you really gonna make me ring the doorbell and ask for her after driving you all the way here?”
“Yes,” Jungkook pouts. “I… I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn’t wanna see me because I made her wait too long? What if she’s angry? What if she realized while waiting for me that she made a mistake?”
“Over three hours sitting in the car and that’s what you came up with? That she’s angry?” Mr. Ri scowls. “Don’t make me think you’re hopeless.”
“Please?”
The older man sighs, thinking that Jungkook just needs time to pull himself together before facing you.
They both get out of the car, with Jungkook standing on the side of the entryway, hiding behind the shrubs just in case you answer the door.
Mr. Ri rings the doorbell and not long after, the gate opens. And for all the years that Jungkook has known the older man - with his firm and often stoic disposition - this is the first time that he’s ever seen his face soften, the gentle smile appearing and lingering. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of appreciation it seems, before he says anything.
“Hye-soo. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Byung-hun,” the woman greets. “It’s been so long. When was the last time we saw each other? Was it ___’s 25th birthday?”
“I think it was. That was a really great day. Your house looked much different back then.”
“Who knew an old house needed repairs and renovations to stay up,” she laughs. “But it all worked out. We’ve got more space now.”
“Space enough for Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin to run about?” Mr. Ri chuckles. “I remember their tag game then. They complained how it always ended so fast. But ___ also told me they’ve grown up so much now. And that they adore you. How’s it like raising teenagers at this time?”
“Ah, difficult,” she chuckles. “But it’s wonderful. They… they truly see me as their mother and I… I get to do things right this time.”
“Hey, you always did,” he comforts, having seen her do everything she could for you. “No one could’ve raised and loved ___ better than you. You got through the toughest times because of that.”
“With a little help, of course,” she smiles. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you. And years later, you’re still looking out for her. That means the world to me.”
She’s where all my love goes to, Mr. Ri doesn’t say. He knew early on that the only way to not lose himself in losing her is to care for the one person she loves the most - you.
“And you? Have you been well?” Hye-soo asks.
“As well as I could be,” he hums. “The stress isn’t the same as when I was working next to Jae-sung but he still tasked me to babysit his son; that in itself is a bit tough.”
“And why is that?” Hye-soo giggles, knowing there’s affection in his words.
“He’s a bit of a hard-head, you know? Pretty stubborn, too, just like his father,” Mr. Ri laments, disregarding the scrunched eyebrows of the man just meters away from him. “And he makes me drive all the way out here, only to be scared to face the woman he’s been looking for.”
“Is that so?” Hye-soo asks, picking up on the man in front of him gesturing towards the side. “I hope he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of.”
Mr. Ri finally turns to Jungkook, motioning for him to get out of hiding and do what he came here for. Jungkook sighs in his place, thinking that this is the first time he’s meeting your mother, and it’s after he’d made you wait and think that he doesn’t feel the same way. With his head bowed down, he walks towards the gate.
There’s a softness on his face when he looks up, and Hye-soo beams in delight at how the man she hasn’t seen in over 20 years looks very much like the 10-year old boy who used to quietly draw cars and houses on the Jeon mansion living room floor. It’s that same shyness and those same wide and curious eyes that made her have a soft spot for the younger son. They reminded her so much of you.
“Jungkook,” she says with such warmth. “You’ve grown up so well. It’s nice to see you after all these years.”
She definitely has your smile. It’s welcoming and assuring and perhaps the one thing he didn’t know he needed before seeing you. There’s so much comfort in her eyes, and there’s this subtle strength that she exudes, one that’s oddly giving him the courage to face you.
“Mrs. Cho,” he bows. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I wish it was because of other reasons, though.”
“What’s wrong about the reason you have today?” She wonders.
“A lot of things,” he sighs.
“Nonsense. You’re here. That’s all that matters,” she smiles. “Would you like to come in?”
“That would be great.”
Jungkook follows inside while Mr. Ri opts to stay behind.
There’s something special about entering someone’s house. People spend time and energy to make it feel like home, to make it be a place of safety and warmth. It’s a place filled with all the things they care about, of all the things they love.
Jungkook never designed the places he’s lived in; an irony, considering his profession. But his residences have always been a place for him to just move into, to just sleep and eat and work at. They’ve always been… empty - grand, expensive, well-designed, but empty. They’re superficial, he would say, a reflection of what he’s always felt. Which is also why he never really welcomes anyone other than his friends. The women he used to bring home don’t count - he’d let them in and make them leave; he never makes them stay long enough to be comfortable, to feel like they belong there. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like he belongs there, either, as if it’s a place reserved just for him to feel alone in.
And so being welcomed in someone else’s home feels different. You’d done it to him, and being in your apartment both times made him feel at ease and familiar. Now, your mother welcomes him to the place where you grew up and it feels the same - there’s that comfort, that sense of nostalgia, even if he knows he’s never been here before.
“Welcome to our humble mansion,” your mother says. “Please, feel at home. Would you like some tea?”
“Uh, yes. Tea is fine,” he bows.
She heads to the kitchen and Jungkook is left to look around. It’s not a small house but it’s not large, either. He’s in the middle of a spacious living room, with shelves lining up the walls - one has family pictures in it, the other one has books and small framed paintings. The dining and kitchen are to the right; on the left is a hallway that seems to lead towards the bedrooms. There’s a screened door that also leads out the backyard.
The entire space is airy, with lots of natural light coming through the windows. He spots some renovations done over time, as there’s some mismatch of materials, something only trained eyes could see. But they’re done well, and he could see the love that created this home for all of you.
Your mother returns with two cups and places them on the table. She asks him to sit down, and Jungkook makes himself comfortable, facing the door as he gazes out at the sky and admires the beautiful changing of the colors. He knows you’d probably admire how it looks, too.
She observes him - nervous as he meets her eyes, a kind of desperation and fear evident as he constantly shifts on his seat. He’s grown up so much, but he’s still that shy little boy she remembers meeting all those years ago. She used to regularly go to the Jeon estate for some private events, and she won’t forget how Jungkook was the son who always kept to himself, content with a sketchpad and some crayons or riding the swing in his custom-built playground.
“Do you remember me at all?” She wonders.
“No,” he shakes his head. “Did I see you often?”
“A handful of times,” she responds. “Your father introduced me to you and your brother when I first started and I’d see you whenever I had to go to your house. But you were always so shy.”
“I was, but I… I wasn’t really good at paying attention. And I guess, there were a lot of things from when I was younger that I don’t remember,” he explains.
The faraway look in his eyes says that there’s more to that, that they aren’t just things he doesn’t remember but they’re memories he tries not to, that he blocks out.
“I’m sorry about what you had to go through as a child,” your mother says, having wanted to express her apology for years, knowing how much the experience haunted him. “I involved your parents in a very personal matter and that deeply affected your family. It affected you.”
“It wasn’t your fault. And I know it wasn’t my parents’, either,” he sighs, feeling regret over the resentment he felt and the distance he created.
“They were just trying to protect you. I hope you know that now.”
“I do,” he hums. “Do you… do you know what happened that night? In the woods?”
“Byung-hun told me,” she nods. “I’ve never seen him so broken over not finding you sooner. He carried that guilt with him, too, that he didn’t look out for you the way he should’ve.”
“I… I didn’t know that.”
“That man feels a lot even if he doesn’t show it. He’s got the biggest heart that I know and he cares for you so much,” she smiles. “A lot of people do. That includes my daughter.”
At the mention of you, Jungkook’s eyes perk up, the softness mixed with sadness evident once more.
“She and I didn’t want our ties to your family to be known,” she explains. “It was a way for us to move on from all that happened. But in no way did she mean to deceive you. She… she would talk about you with such admiration and fondness. And you showed her that it was okay to let people in, that it could be worth it to follow her heart. She’d hoped that you could see past her decisions and know that she was sincere about everything. That she was sincere about what she felt for you.”
“I… I know that now.”
“And I suppose that’s why you’re here?”
“It is,” he sighs, wanting so badly to see you, even if he doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to. “Is she around?”
There’s a prolonged silence after his question, and your mother’s eyes flit to the far end of the house before they return to him.
“She, uh, she picked up the girls from school and decided to have dinner out and watch the movies,” she excuses. “I’m not quite sure what time they’ll arrive. And it’s a shame that you came all the way here. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”
Jungkook debates whether he should wait to say all this to you, perhaps when you’re ready and able to see him, or to say what he can now, knowing it’s important that he gets to express whatever he can at this moment, knowing it will get to you somehow.
But he also doesn’t know how much longer he can hold everything in. All the emotions he feels for you - the regret, the yearning, the desire to have you next to him - have been festering and he just needs to say them. Maybe doing so in front of your mother might be a bit of pressure, but if there’s anyone who can relay all this to you, it would be her.
“There’s a lot of things I’m not good at, Mrs. Cho. Opening myself up is one of them,” he starts. “But your daughter, she… she showed me that it wasn’t so bad. That it’s something I’m capable of doing, and that it’s safe to do that with her. Even when I distanced myself, she didn’t go anywhere, and that does a lot for a person.”
“She’s quite stubborn, isn’t she?” Your mother laughs, remembering those hard times when she’d tell you to get ready for bed, with you disobeying her because you wanted to hold her hand while she cried.
“She is,” he echoes. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her. One of many, actually. She’s also so patient and gentle and understanding… everything I’m not but… all the things I want to be for her. And I wish I’d told her all this when I had the chance but I was so blinded by my own needs that I… I eventually pushed her away. But she was still the one to reach out. She left that letter but I only saw it today and I…”
“Came all the way here to see her,” she finishes.
“Is it too late, do you think?”
“Between the both of us, not at all,” your mother smiles. “She’s all those things you said but she’s human, Jungkook. She gets scared, too, and hard-headed and tired and upset because she feels so much when she allows herself to do that. And sometimes she needs someone to just show her that it’s worth it, that having fears is valid but that they’re not the only things out there. And you being here… I think it’s what she needs.”
She pauses so he could process her words, meeting his eyes so he could feel them even more.
“You’re all she thinks about, you know? She likes being home with us and she’s excited for her new job but I can tell that there’s something missing. And I know that's you.”
“She’s all I think about, too,” he expresses, feeling more at ease now. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, I just always think about being with her. And I know that made her doubt, too. I’ve gotten so used to her presence but that’s not out of necessity. I’m not… a boss when I’m with her. I’m just… me. Because she made me see myself as someone beyond all that I do, someone worthy, and it’s that person who wants her, who needs her.”
Jungkook bows his head, angry at himself as all the words come out now, at a time when you’re not in front of him to hear them, to see that he means all of them. For weeks, all the things you said rang in his mind and every time you were in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to say but he never could, afraid of your rejection, of losing you for good. Now they’re out in the open, but somehow the words don’t seem enough. He realizes that when it comes to what he feels for you, nothing is.
“These are the things I should’ve said to her but I just got overwhelmed at the thought of losing her,” he continues. “I don’t want that, Mrs. Cho. I don’t want to lose your daughter. I want to be with her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be scared anymore, that I want to protect her and take care of her. I want to make her happy.”
It’s the most he’s said about how he feels for you, and he feels quite overwhelmed about expressing them. But he has to say them. You have to know, even if you’re not the one in front of him. They’ll get to you, he’s sure of it.
“I know she wants that, too, Jungkook. And seeing you now, I just know you’ll find your way to each other again, and you’ll both be free from whatever it was that was holding you back,” she assures. “But if it’s not too much, do you mind being a little patient with her this time?”
“Of course,” he nods, knowing that everything that’s happened could make you a bit cautious again, and that’s not something he could blame you for. He’ll give you as much time as you need, and you’ll be the one to find him once you’re ready. “I’ll just be where I always am. And uh, the Arts Center opens tomorrow. It would be great if she could come.”
“She’ll know where to find you,” she smiles.
He feels that he’s said all that he could, so he finishes his tea and stands up. He remembers that he bought something for you, initially hoping that it would make you smile once he gave them.
“Could you, uh, could you give this to her?” He asks, handing your mother a plastic bag, somehow feeling ashamed that this is all he got as a peace offering.
She peeks inside, her eyes widening in delight.
“Chocopie?”
“Yeah,” he smiles shyly. “I would’ve given her flowers but I just thought this would make her happier. ___ told me that it’s her favorite because you’d give it to her as a treat while she waited for you to get off work at the school. She said it always made her day.”
“This was your favorite, too, wasn’t it?” Your mother asks.
“It was. My mother said I always hoarded the ones she’d bring home and wouldn’t share it with anyone,” Jungkook chuckles, recalling those days of stacking them in his room and quietly eating them while he drew houses on his drawing pad.
“You shared it to ___, though,” she says.
It catches him by surprise. He’s never done that, as far as he knows. This is the first time he’s even getting it for you.
“That night those years ago, after I told your father what was happening, he offered us to stay at the staff house of your family’s estate until I’ve sorted things out,” she recalls. “We were in the living room while your parents talked to me and there was little ___, hiding behind my legs. I noticed her let go for a bit and that’s when I saw you, handing her some chocopie. She was always a shy kid but she took what you were giving, and I remember the smile on her face. Everything was new and scary for her and that… that was the first time she smiled that day. And I’ll never forget it.”
Jungkook stands in silence, as much of his memories from those years have been buried deep in his mind. He remembers hiding away whenever there were visitors at home but perhaps he looked on, curious about the girl who seemed scared and maybe something prompted him to share the treat with you, and something pushed you to take it.
“I thought she was just being nice,” your mother continues. “She didn’t really like sweets then but she ate the ones you gave her. And when I’d take her to the convenience store after that, it’s what she always picked out. I’ve just been getting it for her since then, and that’s probably what she remembers but it was you, Jungkook. You’re why I bought it for her every time.”
“We’ve… we’ve met before. And I didn’t even know,” he manages to say, thinking now about the familiarity of your presence and the need to always look out for you.
It’s something he always wondered about, how someone could just pull him in and make him feel things he’d never felt before - that comfort, that warmth, that desire to be good for someone else. It turns out, he’d felt those long before he knew much about the world. And while so many things happened that got both of you here, there’s still something serendipitous about not realizing you met as kids, and then finding each other decades later. There’s all this pain and sadness between the both of you, much of them intertwined, but at the end of it, you heal each other, you make each other stronger, braver.
“She didn’t know, either,” your mother hums. “And this just means that she always kept something of you from that day. Without realizing it, you were always a good memory that she kept; you let her forget the bad things even though she'd forgotten about you, too. It’s how I know that even if she’s not the one in front of you right now, her heart will always search for you.”
Your mother’s smile is reassuring, as if she knows that it’s what he needs. He’d meant to find you today and tell you everything he feels, but somehow he believes it would’ve been hard for him to do that, and so expressing it is all he could do. He feels like he’s gotten so much despite not seeing you though. Learning that missing part of his childhood that had you in it is overwhelming enough, but perhaps it reinforces what he’s known all along - that his heart will also always search for you, it’ll always find you, and it will always be what he wants to hold close to him.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your home, Mrs. Cho,” he says as he bows another time and heads out to leave. “It means a lot meeting you today.”
“It does for me, too,” she states, leading him towards the door and out to the street where Mr. Ri waits. “And thank you for being good to my daughter. She’ll find you. You have to trust that she will.”
He nods, knowing he’ll just have to have faith in what you feel for him. And he hopes that as he walks away and gives you the space you need, you’ll trust in what he feels for you, too.
Your mother bids you and Mr. Ri goodbye, the longing look between friends hitting Jungkook deeply. They’re each other’s what if’s, and while one was able to live out another love, the other kept living out the one he let go of. It’s painful, and Jungkook now can’t imagine making that choice of letting you go completely.
Love is a big word. It’s something he’s forgotten how to feel. He knows there’s still so much more to experience with you and love could be one thing, and that’s a possibility he’s sure he wants to live out one day.
He enters the car and sighs as he sinks in his seat. It’s been a long day and an even longer trip back home, but Mr. Ri insists that they take it.
The older man starts the car and looks dejectedly to his side. “So, she wasn’t there, huh?”
It takes a while but Jungkook answers. “She was.”
It’s a wild guess, but somehow he knew you were there, probably inside one of the opened rooms or in the hallway, just meters away from him but still so far away. Your mother had said you were out, but the way her eyes constantly flitted elsewhere, the way she gave him the time and space to just talk and express his feelings, and the fact that she’d shared that story about both of you meeting as children as if she meant to say it to you, too, all told him that you were right there.
Maybe you hadn’t expected him to come. Maybe you didn’t know what to say this time. Or maybe you thought that seeing you would leave him tongue-tied again, unable to express everything he means, and you wouldn’t be wrong. He just focused on what he felt and not the right things to say or how you’d react at that moment, and he supposes that allowed him to be vulnerable, too.
“And you’re not there with her because?” Mr. Ri wonders.
“Because she needs time,” Jungkook states. “And it’s the least I could give her. And I’ll wait until she’s ready. We’ve spent all these months avoiding each other, thinking that letting each other go is the way to move forward but I… I know that’s not what I want. She is. And I’ll show her I mean it.”
“Well, you went to her. And that’s not all you’re doing.”
“I’m not good with words, you know that,” Jungkook shakes his head.
“I do. She knows that, too. So when she sees everything that you’ve done… she’ll know you mean it.”
It's the assurance that Jungkook needs, and he’ll hold onto that, too, until the time you find him again. Right now, he’ll focus on the Arts Center - he owes it to you to make sure that all the work you put into it is worth it. He knows you’ll want that, too.
The long drive to Daegu had him think about how much of yourself you’ve given to the project that means the world to him. You may have done so because it was your job, but he can’t help but think that in the midst of it, you saw what he was yearning for, what he was trying to attain for himself, and that it mattered to you that he did.
Jungkook and Mr. Ri go to a restaurant for dinner on the way back to Seoul, and the serious expression on the older man’s face has returned. This is his default state, but his soft, longing look is something that Jungkook won’t forget soon.
“How was it like seeing her after all these years?” Jungkook wonders. “Does… does it still hurt, knowing what could have been and the life she lives now?”
It takes a while but Mr. Ri finally replies. “In an alternate universe, Hye-soo and I are living with our family on some farm. We talked about that a few times, about wanting to grow old in a place that’s peaceful,” he recalls, all those long drives and hectic days becoming worth it whenever he shared them with her. “But this is the universe and lifetime I’m living now. The decisions I made brought me here, but they also set her free. You’ve met her, you’ve seen her home. She’s happy where she is and even if it’s not next to me, that’s the life I always wish she’d have.”
Jungkook hums, unable to fully comprehend the heartbreak of letting someone go like that, and then seeing them live a life that he could’ve shared with them. Thinking about meeting you at a park or something years from now, perhaps with a husband or children, and then wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you go plagues him. That’s not the life he wants. It’s not a decision he wants to make, and he could only hope that neither do you.
He looks across at the man in front of him with all that love for the woman he can’t have, and Jungkook wonders where all of that goes, recalling a conversation from not long ago, when Mr. Ri first revealed about a woman he’s held onto for years.
“Does it all go to ___, then? All that love?”
“It does,” Mr. Ri hums. “It also goes to your family, Jungkook. It goes to you. Those have kept me going all these years and they always will, so seeing you and ___ care for each other means a lot to me, too.”
It’s a comforting thought, knowing that at the end of everything, Mr. Ri still finds happiness in others, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fall into a kind of despair that paralyzes him. Jungkook recalls growing up and seeing the older man always by his father’s side, joining him on his trips and then coming back with some treats that he gives to Jungkook and his brother. When he was in Singapore, Mr. Ri visited often, showing up whenever he had a project launch. Jungkook also knows that he stayed in Canada for a few months, helping Jeong-sik recover after an accident left him with broken limbs.
And there was that incident that Jungkook carries with him, how he was powerless and alone under the rain but it was Mr. Ri who searched for him, who didn’t give up, who dealt with that guilt for years. And Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever thanked the man for all he’s done.
They engage in light talk for the rest of dinner. Jungkook offers to drive the rest of the way home, insisting that it’s a way for him to preoccupy himself instead of thinking about you. They spend it recalling his growing up years, how he slowly isolated himself, and then how he gradually opened up again. The older man expresses how proud he is, that regardless of what happens after all this, Jungkook pursued his happiness, and that’s what matters.
“Thank you, for uh, for everything,” Jungkook says as he exits the car, hoping that his simple words would convey all his emotions.
There’s a softness on Mr. Ri’s face this time, one that Jungkook has seen only twice in his lifetime, both of which were today. It speaks of care and warmth; he knows now that it also speaks of love.
You lay on your mother’s lap, needing the comfort you always felt whenever she held you close and ran her fingers through your hair. It’s something she always did when you were a child, and she knows that despite having grown up, you need it now just as much as you did before. She doesn’t say much, letting the silence of your bedroom envelope the both of you this Thursday evening.
It’s been a roller coaster of emotions this past week, and today pretty much took you on a deep plunge that has you holding onto your chest and wanting the stability of being on the ground. After you left that letter on Jungkook’s desk last Thursday, you stayed in your apartment and waited for days.
In hindsight, maybe it was silly that you stayed put when you could’ve called or gone back to his office in an attempt to talk to him. But you weren’t sure what he was feeling, if he was harboring resentment for how you chose to leave, or if he was too busy with the Arts Center opening to even think about you. He kept himself busy during your last weeks after all, and he missed your farewell dinner, too.
That letter was your way of expressing yourself without the fear of outright rejection. And giving him that decision to find you was your way of telling him that it was his call, that if he still wanted you, you’d be waiting for him. And that’s what you did, day in and day out - you waited for that knock on the door or for the ring of your phone.
It drove you crazy, thinking that you could be with him already, but the possibility of him also deciding that that’s no longer what he wanted plagued your mind; it’s what kept you from making that call or paying him a visit. There was that part of you that couldn’t help but think that he might’ve wanted things to just remain as they are. It made you realize that despite taking that step of being brave, there was still fear within you that held you back.
The hope dwindled by the weekend despite the comforting conversation you had with your neighbor, and on Tuesday afternoon, the sadness took over. You packed your bags and decided that if you were to get over this, being with your family is where you need to be. You knew your mother would convince you to wait for Jungkook a little longer. She’d be the reasonable one and say that maybe he’d missed the letter. And she may be right, but if you were to pursue him again, you knew you needed to be around people you loved to give you back that strength and confidence.
It turns out, your mother was right. Jungkook did miss the letter. It took him days to see it, and he didn’t waste his time and went to find you right away. Perhaps that certainty that you’ve been needing is what turns out to be the one that overwhelms you in the end. You walked out of your room to find him in your living room, and you froze. You stayed rooted in that hallway, listening to him talk about what he felt for you, and all you could do was hug your knees as you sat on the floor, taking his words in, hoping they’d heal your heart as quickly as his silence broke it.
“Do you think he knew I was there?” You look up to your mother in question.
“I think he did,” she hums. “I doubt he would’ve said as much as he did to me, someone he’s just met, unless he knew you could hear him. He had this look on his eyes - it was sad and sincere, full of regret but also of hope. And it just felt like was baring himself right there, hoping you’d know exactly what he felt.”
You think about it. Knowing Jungkook, he wouldn’t have let himself be that vulnerable to someone that easily, even if it was in front of your mother. He’s not always able to express himself to you, and maybe that’s why. Maybe like you, he loses his words and caves in in front of the person he wants. It’s happened so many times to you, and it’s one reason you chose a letter to express your feelings; saying it to him directly with all the uncertainties just terrified you.
But he’d been bold, he’d been honest. And you got to hear his every word, and you believed all of it.
“Why didn’t you want to see him?” she asks, given that you’d shaken your head when she looked at you after he’d asked if you were around. “What were you so afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It felt so long being without him, and I was holding onto this hope after leaving that letter and then the wait just… it discouraged me. Somehow seeing him there paralyzed me a little,” you explain. “Suddenly I wasn’t ready. I had all these feelings that were hanging in the air and to hear that he returned all those was just… I… I was overwhelmed because he was finally within reach.”
“Both of you are in this constant push and pull that’s keeping you from each other,” she points out. “At some point, you’ll have to just get over the fear and meet him where he is and he’ll have to do the same. No one wins in fear, darling. Weren’t you the one who told me I owed it to myself to give Min-woo a chance? You’re the one who said it was better to be scared with him next to me than to be scared alone.”
“Easy to say that when I’m on the outside, it seems,” you chuckle. “I get what you were feeling then, mom, and I understand now how hard it must’ve been.”
“That’s true, so you’re gonna have to trust me that what you said was true - it was better that I was scared with him next to me than if I was alone,” she repeats. “But I made that choice and it was the best one, because I can’t be any happier than I am now because I let him love me, and I allowed myself to love him. You and Jungkook could do that. You just have to trust that it’s all worth it.”
You nod. At the end of the day, you know it makes a difference that it’s your mother reminding you all of this. It’s her pain that you carried, it’s why you were always scared of opening up and sharing your whole self to another person. And it’s also why it matters that it’s her happiness that she reminds you of that pushes you to get over your fear, or at least, to choose to be with Jungkook in spite of it.
She tucks you in bed and tells you to get some sleep now. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, she says, as you have to make that long trip back to Seoul in time for the Arts Center opening.
“As your mother, I’m kicking you out of my house,” she teases. “You are to head out there and tell that man how you really feel, okay? I won’t allow you back here until he’s with you.”
“That’s unfair,” you pout.
“It is, but so is keeping yourself away from him,” she shakes her head. “You take after me so much. Stop being stubborn.”
You laugh this time, knowing that while it’s that stubbornness that pushed Jungkook to open up to you, it’s that same trait that’s keeping you away from him.
“I will. And I’ll head out tomorrow,” you promise. “I’m so tired of being sad.”
“Good. No one gets tired from being happy, so that’s what you should try to be.”
Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, tightening his necktie and then spending half a minute to determine if it’s aligned or not.
It’s something he’s started doing. It’s been weeks since you left and stopped doing it for him, and even if Lucas has pointed out a few times that it was crooked, the younger man never really attempted to fix it. Jungkook didn’t really have a choice but to learn how to do it himself. For an architect with trained eyes, he’s ironically terrible at assessing something as simple as this. He never knows if he’s done it right, and he’ll always be amazed at how you do it.
He finally decides he’s done it correctly, and he takes his coat to complete his look for the biggest day of his professional life. He opts for the classic suit this time, needing that refinement and elegance that a Kim Taehyung tailored outfit gives. Despite his best friend’s suggestions of trying something a little different, Jungkook insisted that simple is what he wants - the attention shouldn’t be on him, adamant that a textured charcoal ensemble would do its job. The pattern differentiates it from an ordinary suit so he at least doesn’t blend in too much and it’s a good compromise. You agreed with him on this months ago, and hearing you assure him that it looks good on him is something he’s missing.
He shakes his head at the thought. Here he is again, his mind going to you. Perhaps it’s his body’s way of dealing with the nerves; somehow thinking of you calms him down even if you’re not around. You’ve always had that effect on him, and with the unveiling of most important project of his life as the company’s Vice President, that composure and confidence is what he needs.
It doesn’t stop him from wishing that you’d taken to heart what he said yesterday, not just about what he feels but about finding him. You know most of the details of today’s opening, and if you wanted to, you’d come to show your support even if he kept you in the dark during your last weeks. And if you really wanted to, you’d come to tell him that you want to be with him, and that you’re not going to walk away this time.
It’s difficult to have today, of all days, be somewhat of a determinant of how things are going to go for both of you. He’ll definitely wait for as long as he needs to until you’re ready to face him again, but if it’s not today, he’s afraid there’s more that’s holding you back, and that not getting to you early on must’ve really hurt you.
But he’ll keep on, as so much has happened for this day to be as successful as he hopes it to be. Hoseok constantly reminds him of the entire team’s hard work and that it’s what will pull him through. But beyond the expectations from his parents and the Board and past the importance for the artists involved, this was Jungkook’s dream as a professional, and he made it happen. He’ll hold out hope until the last moment that he’ll see you there, though, but if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with your absence like he’s been doing these past weeks.
Jungkook exits his bedroom and gets approving looks from his best friends who’ll be his support system for today. He’d gone to the Arts Center early in the morning despite last night’s long trip back to Seoul, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. It took some reprimanding from his father to finally go home to fix up, the older man claiming that Jungkook will need to collect himself before all the activities in the afternoon.
There’s an interview with the Culture Minister, a press conference right after, and an afternoon tea spread in the nearby hotel for all the artists whose work will be exhibited for the opening - all before the ceremony scheduled for 5PM. It’s a big day and an even bigger evening, and he’ll have to preserve his energy and learn to manage, and it’s the first big event without you. He knows it’ll be hard, so do his friends, which is why they're here to show their support and lend their energy when needed.
“You look like the star of the show,” Seokjin praises. “It’s a really good suit.”
“The stars of the show are the artists, actually,” Jungkook corrects. “And the public. It isn’t me.”
“Too bad. It’s a simple suit but you’re styled to still get attention so own it,” Taehyung states. “You look really good, Kook. So chin up, okay? It’s all gonna be fine.”
Jungkook tries to smile, hoping that faking it would eventually make it look real.
“We know it’s tough and you wish you could share it with ___, but just think that she’d want you to enjoy this either way,” Seokjin comforts. “You also owe it to her to give it your best today.”
He knows his friends are right. So many things had to come together for today to happen. Everyone involved did their parts. He heard that there’s so much buzz on social media about the Arts Center and the registration that opened to the public exceeded expectations, and that’s only the beginning. Thinking of all the possibilities excites him, and he’ll hold onto that to get him through the day. Or the week and even beyond that, if needed.
Jungkook nods and thanks his friends, saying that it means a lot that they’re there for him. It catches them by surprise because he’s not one to easily express gratitude or any level of sentimentality. They suppose it’s what having you around had done for him, and maybe losing you also reminded him of the importance of being vulnerable.
They head to the hotel that’s one block away from the Arts Center. Jungkook goes through the interview with ease, and with the support of his father, Hoseok, Ji-woo, and Lucas, he manages the press conference, too. He takes some time to collect himself after all that engagement, then he proceeds to the event hall to meet with the artists, curators, and craftspeople and show his appreciation.
He feels a sense of accomplishment already just knowing that they’re as excited as he is. The inaugural exhibitions feature their work, and the products created to commemorate them are all beautiful. It’s truly come together, he thinks, and he allows himself to feel pride for the first time, knowing that more than the structure, it’s the connections and the art that they’re all celebrating, and it’s what he always hoped to achieve with this project.
It’s not long after when he finds himself in the Arts Center, first doing the customary ribbon cutting with his father and the Culture Minister before entering the lobby where he’ll give the formal welcome and signal the official opening of the center.
It feels different with so many people present, all awaiting to see how the structure was renovated and what new features they’ll look forward to. There’s a buzz of excitement that Jungkook internalizes, as he sits on a chair by the stage. He watches on as his father and cousins go around to meet the guests, opting to save his energy for his speech. It’s the feel of his mother’s touch that makes him realize he’s shaking, and he turns to her and is met with her warm smile. It’s been a while since he allowed that to comfort him, and at this moment, it’s what he needs.
“It already looks gorgeous, son,” she assures him. “And you’re going to do amazing up there. People listen when you talk, and they believe in what you say. I’ve seen it. So just trust in yourself, okay? At the end of the day, the structure speaks for itself, and that’s what the people will remember.”
“Thank you, mother,” Jungkook smiles back. “And thank you for staying here with me. And uh, for all the other project launches that you attended.”
“Of course, Jungkook. I’ll always be there to support you,” she says. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Anything that you work on will be something I’m proud of. Never forget that.”
He nods, feeling a little lighter the more he accepts the love and support of those around him. He never really knew what that felt like, and he knows that’s all on him. He’ll try to change that now, and he supposes that expressing and receiving gratitude is one thing that he took from you. He just hopes he gets to have an opportunity to thank you again - he wouldn’t have done any of this without you.
Chin-sun approaches him to say that they’ll begin shortly, and Jungkook looks at the growing crowd one last time, that sliver of hope that he’ll see you keeping him going. There are so many moving parts to this entire project, but he knows he’s not alone. After tonight, he can breathe easy and look back at the year that’s passed and know that he put his all into this, and that it turned out to be exactly how he imagined it to be.
It’s not long after when the program begins. CEO Jeon gives his opening remarks, followed by the Culture Minister, before Jungkook takes the stage. It’s a much longer speech he gives this time, as he wants to make sure that he gets to thoughtfully express his hope and purpose for the Arts Center. He talks briefly about its conception and then delves into the ideas of connection and intimacy, how he wants art to be experienced by people as both spectators and creators, and that he wants this to be a hub for people to create meaning, all while celebrating Korean culture in an environment that reflects the merging of tradition and modernism.
He keeps his eye contact with the audience, and he sees their warm reception to his words. A video plays to introduce the artists and craftspeople who are featured, and then he ends with thanking everyone who was involved in the process - from the laborers, suppliers, and contractors, to the Board, the investors, and the executive team. He gives a special message to his project team and management support team, asking them to join him on stage because they deserve all the praise for how the Center turned out.
There’s a resounding applause, and once that’s settled, he finally asks for all the doors to be opened.
“There are so many things to explore here,” he says. “Please savor every space you enter and take your time. The meaning of art is something only you could define but the beauty is in the experience, and the experience is even more fulfilling when it is shared. Thank you very much and have a good evening.”
He watches the crowd disperse and he releases a breath. The night is far from over and the toughest part for him is just about to start, and that’s going around to see how everything is being received. His mother greets him after, congratulating him again. Hoseok and Ji-woo tell him how proud they are, and his father gives him that assuring nod, with words expressing pride and encouragement accompanying it.
Jungkook quickly meets the team and gives instructions on how to divide and conquer before he heads to one of the performance halls. He sees Yoongi hanging around and there’s a warm smile on his friend’s face, a rarity because it’s not usually directed at him.
“You’re getting the hang of these speeches,” Yoongi hums. “___ would be proud.”
“Only if she’d heard it,” Jungkook sighs. “I looked around but I didn’t see her. Do you… do you know if she’s here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook nods, knowing he’ll slowly have to accept that maybe you’re not ready yet, or that asking you to find him here at a time when there are so many people might have been too much. There’s hope that you’ll give him a call or maybe meet him at another time. He understands what you must’ve felt while you waited for him, and he hates himself for making you go through that. It’s excruciating being on the receiving end of it, and it’s only been a few hours.
“Let me know if you see her,” Jungkook instructs. “I’ll just be…”
“Around,” Yoongi chuckles. “I will. But your job continues, so go out there and find out what people are saying. I’ll be on the lookout for her.”
Jungkook thanks him and continues visiting the different halls, engaging with the artists and Board members and some other visitors along the way. He searches for your face in every space he enters, exiting them in disappointment when he doesn’t find you there. His heart slowly breaks, and he hangs on for a little longer until he starts to feel too much, with the tiredness from being on the go the entire day getting to him.
It’s a hard call but he decides to leave. Hoseok assures him that it’s okay; he’s talked to every important person already and that’s enough. People will explore for as long as the Center is open, and he’s got the project and support teams to hold the fort for him. There’s not much else he needs to do anyway; their subsidiary company tasked to manage the operations has already taken over, and Jungkook’s main tasks have been fulfilled. It eases him, knowing that he’s not abandoning anyone by deciding to step out.
As the hours go by with no sight of you, the heavier he feels. He needs time alone, not just because his battery’s gone out but also to just wallow in the sadness. It’s pitiful but it seems better than constantly hoping he’d see you here while being surrounded by so many people.
He goes to one final area before heading out. It’s the most special one, the one he dedicates to you, the one he hopes you’d one day see and know that he thought of you everyday, even during the days when it didn’t seem like it. He wonders if you’ll like it, if it would remind you of what you grew up with, and if it would be a place for you to feel safe and free and happy in, all the things he’d wished you’d feel with him.
One last look and there’s still no sign of you. He calls Mr. Ri and asks to be dropped off at the office. It seems like a better place to be in when he’s sad and upset.
The building is empty on a Friday night. Everyone’s either at the Arts Center or gone home and he’s ironically the one craving for the loneliness of this place. He’s committed himself to his job for a decade and doesn’t know much of who he is outside of it. He learned a bit of that in the midst of the biggest change he’s experienced and the most challenging year he’s had, and it was through you.
He learned that he’s actually quite caring, that there’s a protective side to him, that he steps up and shows up when he’s needed, and that he finds joy and peace in the outdoors. He’s passionate and a perfectionist but he wants to be a bit spontaneous, too. He makes mistakes and can apologize for them. He’s capable of kindness and in some instances, enjoys the company of other people with whom he can observe and laugh with. Being alone often made him feel lonely, and he realized that he’s someone who craves companionship, who wants intimacy, and that he’s someone willing to be vulnerable and share himself with the right person. And while he tends to be impatient most times, with you, he’s willing to wait. And for you, he’ll try to be better.
He enters his office and lets the silence envelope him. The city looks alive from his window but there’s dullness from within. He’ll get over it, he thinks, but until then, that sadness will remain for as long as you’re not in his life, for as long as you’re not next to him.
You look at yourself in the mirror, the elegance of your rose-colored midi dress a contrast to the stress painted all over your face. You give yourself only a few seconds to admire how you look - there’s a bit of that sexiness from the v-neckline and front slit, and the flutter sleeves and other vintage details lend to a classic look. Your hair isn’t as fixed as you want and your makeup is too pale for your liking, but with time no longer on your side, those are the least of your problems.
You couldn’t sleep last night despite your mother insisting that you get some rest. The image of Jungkook leaving your house plagued your mind. You should’ve ran after him and told him that you were sorry, that it doesn’t matter anymore if you waited, for as long as he found you. You should’ve stopped him to say that you wanted to be with him, that you were done with running away from what you really wanted, and that you’re willing to always be brave for as long as he held your hand and eased your worries. You should’ve gone back to Seoul with him, but you’d been too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to chase after what you’ve been yearning for.
Deciding to come to the Arts Center opening wasn’t always certain. You knew you were going to visit one day. You worked hard on it, too, and you wanted to show your support even if Jungkook would never know. But when he asked you to find him there, you knew you had to go right away. You imagined him making that speech that you helped him draft months ago, donned in the gray outfit that Taehyung was proud to make for him. You envisioned the smile he’d have on as he looked around to see all his plans come to life and the visitors taking it all in.
You just didn’t expect to sleep through your alarm and then miss the train by a minute. The travel wasn’t bad. The chocopies that Jungkook got you kept you satisfied the entire trip, but it was halfway back to Seoul when you realized that you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. The ones you have are either too formal, too casual, or meant for a night out.
Taehyung had designed a dress for you but you said it was no longer necessary after you resigned; it was fortunate that he hadn’t started making it yet, and so the guilt wasn’t too much. You didn’t want to go to the opening in just anything. While it mattered to get there, you didn’t want to get any attention, and so dressing appropriately was your plan. Everything else in your closet would make you look underdressed, and you made the quick decision to pass by a store and grab the first nice dress you could find and then head home.
The clock was ticking, and it didn’t help that you got stuck in traffic on the way to your apartment, and that a vehicular accident at the intersection outside your village forced the cab driver to take a longer route to the Arts Center. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the program was over, and Jungkook would probably now be in the midst of engaging with so many important people and you don’t want any of the attention that your arrival might bring.
You finally make it though, and while minutes ago you were stressed and just desperate to make it to the Arts Center, now that you’re here, you’re quite nervous. You’ll face him again after so long, and the fact that happiness would be within reach brings about an unfamiliar feeling. But you also can’t wait to experience it. It’s a kind of joy and contentment you’ve only dreamt about, and you’ll finally know what it’s like.
Exiting the cab, you look around in awe. From this view, you could imagine the sunset framing the main building so beautifully. You enter the lobby and it’s even more spacious than you remember. Perhaps it’s the absence of all the laborers and materials on the floor. Now, it’s just this open space with art pieces placed around. The floor-to-ceiling windows would bring so much light in. It was one of the big changes to the old structure, and with the moonlight shining through, it feels as if there’s a natural spotlight on the art pieces.
You’re enamored by the grandness of it all. Even more by the many people around, perhaps taking their time in exploring all that the Center has to offer. It’s such a massive space that it’s impossible to absorb everything after one go around, and you already can’t wait to take it all in the next time you visit.
It’s tempting to get lost in it but right now, your priority is finding Jungkook, but as you’re about to head to the second floor, Do-hyun’s whisper-yelling of your name catches your attention. She gives you a tight hug and there’s suddenly an air of sentimentality as the old team is together once again. It was just a year ago when you all took on the biggest project together and after all the highs and lows, it’s finally here. And while you missed out on the final weeks of preparations, they assure you that you’re just as much a part of those as they are.
“You had to deal with the last minute changes, though,” you insist. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Only at the beginning,” Chin-sun says. “We were barely involved. We just helped with procurement but Mr. Jeon was the one who worked tirelessly on it. He had just two other people help him construct it and I guess that’s why he spent so much time there. But it turned out beautifully, and you wouldn’t have known it was only an addition.”
“Wha-what is it?” You ask, the curiousity taking a front seat for now.
“It’s—”
“It’s something you need to see for yourself,” a familiar voice says.
You all turn around and bow at the sight of CEO Jeon. He looks at you and smiles, gesturing towards one of the doors. You excuse yourself from the team and follow the older man, walking next to him in silence.
“I was worried you weren’t going to come tonight,” he says. “I think that so was Jungkook.”
“I… I tried to come earlier but there was all this traffic and… I, uh, how did he do?” You ask.
“Great, as always,” CEO Jeon answers. “He had everything under control and managed all the socializing impressively. He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”
“He has,” you smile, recalling the anxiousness that he used to feel at just remembering names and keeping up with people’s energy.
“He’s come a long way in other aspects, too. Smiling, believing in himself, being kinder to himself… it’s great to witness,” the older man continues. “And standing by and caring for someone the way he did with you, that was… that was new, too.”
“I didn’t intend on feeling this way for him, sir,” you say, recalling that the last time you spoke, you weren’t ready to talk about it. “And I tried to suppress it, and that pushed him away but I guess, sometimes we lose people for a reason; we find them again for a reason, too.” It’s a statement that CEO Jeon had told you the last time you talked, and it’s one that stuck with you. “I’m here to find him again.”
“Good. I was hoping you would, so at least I’d know that all this wasn’t in vain,” he chuckles. “And I really do hope you see his heart with this, ___. He takes after me, and I didn’t realize just how much until he came up with this plan.”
You lose him for a bit, suddenly unsure of what he means. CEO Jeon notices, so he gestures towards his right and you follow his lead, and that’s when you see it. Your eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but gasp at the space before you.
“He’s not always good with words but he tries. And this is how he does it.”
You noted entering the grand library as he spoke. The walls and design were familiar, as you’d gone in here during your last few visits. But this area that you walk into is new. It’s not a large space but it feels like it now. It used to be a section of historical books and archived materials that were put on display, almost like a museum of literary artifacts that a historian had sold off. But it’s nothing like that now.
The glass enclosures have been replaced by shelves and bookcases, all easily accessible and reachable by anyone. The framed walls are no more - instead, there are reading nooks and character murals painted artistically, bringing them to life outside of the books they only lived in. The lights are not blinding; they’re warm and inviting, illuminating a space that makes you want to just sit or even lie in, especially with the large stuffed animals spread across. The chairs aren’t the same, too; there are couches all around, all soft and comfortable, decorated with knitted dolls and colorful pillows.
You walk further, mouth agape as you take in every inch of the space that brings back so many memories from your childhood. This place is new but familiar. It looks nothing but everything like that neighborhood-run library that your mom used to take you to. Towards the back is a little activity area, with a large, leveled table and a row of shelves filled with coloring books and paper dolls.
You feel chills as you realize what this place is supposed to be, and who this was meant for.
You remember the first time you told Jungkook about this. It was after that incident at the restaurant. He took you to a park and told you how the playground was his favorite place, how it made him feel free and safe, how it allowed him to just be himself and imagine doing and being everything he wanted. You shared a piece of your childhood, too, and described that library you frequented, how you felt sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye to it, and that you hadn’t seen a place like that again.
But now you have. That last minute change that he made… It was this.
You turn towards CEO Jeon and try to find the words to say but nothing comes out. You’re overwhelmed by what you see, by the memories they elicit, and by all the emotions overtaking you all at once.
“Jungkook called me one evening and said that he was going to re-do the archive section in the library,” the older man says. “He wasn’t asking for my approval because it was his project, he’d said, but he just wanted to let me know. He made all the decisions and most of the design. He painted the walls and some of the furniture, too. He spent every afternoon here and stayed until the evening. He barely rested. He just… he just wanted this done. It was so important to him.”
“I… I told him about a place like this, that I used to go to,” you manage to find your voice now. “He never saw it but it… it looks like this.”
“Maybe you described it really well,” CEO Jeon smiles. “It’s how he’s always been. Just a few words and then it comes alive in his mind.”
“That’s why this Center is as beautiful as it is,” you hum. “He’s good at that, bringing to life everything that he envisions.”
“It’s his way of saying the things he can’t say, too. It’s something he got from me, I think. I’m not good with words either,” he admits. “So when Byung-hun told me that your mother used to spend her lunch breaks taking you to a library when you were younger, I knew this was Jungkook expressing everything he feels for you.”
“It’s a bit grand, don’t you think?” You say shyly. “Building something for someone is… so personal, so—”
“Sincere,” he finishes for you. “And intimate, I’d say. But my son, he feels a lot. Which is why I think he tries not to, and why he distances himself from others. He felt like he’d lost you, ___, even before he had you and that… messed with him. He needed to do this for you, but I think he also needed to do it for himself. If at the end of the day, you’ll no longer be a part of his life, this would remind him that you were.”
You blink away the tears that you quickly wipe off as you look away. If at the end of the day, he’s no longer a part of your life, this would also remind you that he was. But you don’t want that, because you want him in your life, you want every part of him that he’s willing to show, and you want to hold every bit of that in your arms, care for it, and never let it go.
The time you spent with so little of him in your life made you feel his absence, and that allowed you to recognize the pockets of joy you had with him. It gave you something to look forward to, to connect with, and to treasure. The first step was resigning, and that itself felt like freedom. You get to pursue that connection and deep desire by choosing him this time. Knowing yourself means knowing how your heart heals and loves, and you want him to be at the receiving end of that.
“I… I need to see him,” you say, not wanting him to spend another minute without knowing how you feel.
“You should,” CEO Jeon nods and motions towards the door. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”
There’s a soft smile on his face and you mirror it, as if to tell each other that all has been forgiven, that everything has been accepted, that there’s no more blame or burden to carry anymore.
You rush out, wondering where to start looking for Jungkook. Turning to the left, you see Yoongi, who quickly rushes to you.
“What do you think?” He asks, gesturing towards the library where you’d just come from. “Is it close to the one you used to go to?”
“Yes,” you respond. “Did you help him with it?”
“Kinda had no choice,” he chuckles. “We were working on it while everything else was being completed. He didn’t want anyone else to know, especially you. I didn’t even know why he wanted to build a children's library all of a sudden when it wasn’t in the plans until that night you told me about your childhood. It clicked then.”
“He was already dealing with so much but he still had time for this?” You say, still in shock that Jungkook pushed through with this despite everything.
“He had a lot to say to you but he didn’t know how to. And I guess working on this was a way for him to deal with losing you,” Yoongi answers. “You mean a lot to him, ___. He was a mess without you.”
You think back at the times you felt that he was quickly replacing you, that he was distancing himself, that he was probably upset because you’d messed up his plans, and that he just wanted to move on from you. All this time, he was working on something that he could leave you with, all because he knew how much it meant for you to have a place like this.
“Now I just have to find him,” you say. “Have you seen him?”
“Not in the past half hour. He’s just been going around but I did tell him I’d let him know if you came. You should call him.”
“I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I did,” you sigh, knowing that it’s probably the same reason why he didn’t call you after not finding you in your apartment yesterday.
There’s too much to say that can’t be said over the phone. You’ll probably be tongue tied once he picks up.
You decide to call Mr. Ri, the possibility of Jungkook having left swimming in your mind after thinking of how long he would’ve been socializing. It’s been hours since the opening; it’s possible that he’s gotten tired from it all.
“___? Everything okay?”
“Do you know where he is?” You ask, desperate now. “Is he still in—”
“I just dropped him off at the office,” the older man answers. “I don’t know why he wanted to be there but I’m on the way back to the Arts Center. Do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”
“I’m here right now and I just saw what he made. I need to see him.”
“You can wait for me and—”
“It’s okay. I’ll find my way there. Thank you.”
You drop the call and start heading towards the exit, with Yoongi on your tails, offering to drive you.
“You’ve done so much already. And you’re needed here,” you say. “It’s okay.”
“True, I have. It sucked witnessing you two constantly going in circles when you both clearly can’t get enough of each other,” he chuckles. “So go, find him. You can both stop being such idiots now.”
“Rude,” you laugh. “But thank you, Yoongi.”
He smiles, and it’s a sight that’s gotten you through some of the toughest days. He tells you again to leave now, and you rush out as you book a cab, slowly getting impatient as you want nothing more than to be with Jungkook already.
You get inside the car and watch the city pass you by. So many nights you’d done this, wondering about your life and where it was headed, hoping that one day you’d find the strength within you to go for what you’ve always wanted, whatever it was. A smile paints your face as you do it again now. One day is today, and with another act of bravery, you’re heading towards that other piece of happiness, and you’re finally claiming it for yourself.
The office isn’t far, and with the traffic having eased despite the hour, you make it to the building in no time.
You’re suddenly nervous once you enter the lobby. You’re used to late nights but it’s different this time. The security personnel assigned tonight still remembers you, and he doesn’t ask questions when you say you want to head to the VP’s floor.
It’s a little nostalgic walking down the hallway, even if you were here just last week. It’s knowing that you’ll be seeing Jungkook at the end of it that makes you emotional, your heart beating fast as the seconds tick by. You quietly make it to his room, and with the door opened, you wonder if he expected you to be here.
You stand at the entrance and see him standing by the window, looking out into the city below. His sleeves are rolled up, and he has one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. You spot the bottle on the edge of the table and not far from it, the mess of folders and blueprints piled on the desk.
“Why are you out here celebrating on your own?” You say, your voice soft despite the yearning you’re feeling.
He hears you though, as the swirling of his drink stops and he slowly turns around to look at you. He looks tired, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up. You wish he notices the way yours do, too.
“The Arts Center is beautiful, Jungkook. You should be enjoying it with everyone else.”
“It didn’t feel right without you,” he answers, walking towards his table where he places the glass next to the bottle. “It felt incomplete without you around. You… you were a big part of that.”
“Why did you leave, then? That’s where you said I’d find you.”
“Is that what your mother said?”
“It’s what I heard,” you say. He doesn’t look surprised, and maybe a part of you knew that he knew you were there, but still, he asks.
“Why didn’t you see me? Why didn’t you want to talk to me?”
You start to walk closer and see the sadness in his eyes. It brings you back to this room weeks ago, how those same eyes looked at you in dejection, in guilt. You hate hurting him, and you don’t ever want to do that again.
“I realized that I easily accept it when I’m told that I’m being selfish and that I don’t deserve happiness. But when it comes to someone’s genuine feelings, I cower,” you respond. “Your sincerity scared me and maybe that’s why I doubted it the first time and I’m sorry that I did.”
Your voice starts to shake now as the emotions intensify with every word you say, and with every inch of distance you eliminate.
“I’m sorry that I pushed you away, that I left, that I kept my past from you. I’m sorry that I was so scared about everything, especially about the way I felt, only because it was all so new. It was all so much; wanting you became too much, I didn’t know how to stop. But I…” you blink away the tears, not realizing they’ve been waiting to fall. “I realized I was more scared to lose you. I was foolish to think that I could just move on and forget about what I feel for you. I thought it’s what you wanted to do, too, and—”
He shakes his head, and it’s the most reaction you’ve gotten since you started speaking.
“All I’ve done since that night you left me here was think about you,” he says, now able to say what he’s been meaning to. “I didn’t know how to stop that either. Wanting you was no longer enough and I wanted to be with you but I didn’t think I could, not when I thought you didn’t want me. You left and I… I didn’t know what to do.”
“I knew it’s what I needed,” you admit. “I… I reached a point where if you asked me to stay, I probably would and I didn’t want to. I wanted to know myself outside of all this and I didn’t want you to be the reason why I’d stop myself from doing that, from searching for whatever would make me happy but I realized that it’s you.”
You take another step, your body aching for him as your heart beats faster. “I felt free but it didn’t feel like I thought it would be. I didn’t want to be here but I wanted to be with you. And I’m sorry it took so long.”
“I didn’t find you right away,” he whispers, as if he still carries that guilt with him. “I was so caught up with everything else, with dealing with the fact that I lost you.”
“The library,” you say. “You were caught up creating something for me.”
“I… uh, I didn’t know how to say everything that I wanted to say,” he sighs. “And I’ll probably always struggle with that but… I just thought that as you go about your new life, I could build you a place where you’ll always feel safe and free, and that if I can’t be that person to comfort you, you’ll have a place that can do that. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to forget me. But I also just wanted you to know that I was always going to think about you.”
“Doesn’t it feel a bit grand?” You ask now, inching closer once again as he takes another step forward. “Building a library for someone is a pretty big deal.”
“You would’ve been my biggest what if. I probably deserve something grand to remind me of how stupid I was that I let you go.”
“You’re not gonna do that again, are you?” You teasingly smile. “Because I won’t.”
“No,” he says a little seriously. “I put you through so much, ___. I just… I just want to be someone who would care for you and would make you happy.”
His words are simple but they carry so much. You suppose at one point, that’s all what’s started to matter. All he wants is to be part of that happiness you’ve been searching for. Maybe it’s what’s been missing in his life, too, and all you want now is to be a part of it.
Another tear falls down your cheek, and you appease the worried look on his face by saying that it’s a happy tear.
He softly smiles, wiping it off with his thumb before cupping your face in his hand. He’s gentle as he caresses you, and you learn everyday just how capable he is of giving warmth, that there’s such tenderness within him that he’s unable to fully show.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admits. “So many times that I’ve seen you cry and I’ve just been… so powerless to do anything.”
“Now you aren’t,” you breathe out as you eye his lips, knowing they’re what you need at this moment. “Now you can—”
His proximity stops you, as he bends down and closes the distance. His mouth presses against yours, the hint of alcohol intoxicating you a little but it’s the feel of him that makes your mind hazy. With his hand still cupping your cheek, he pulls you towards him, his tongue merely licking your own when he slides inside as if to tease.
“Do that,” he finishes, pulling away only a little bit to allow you to answer.
“Yes,” you heave, wanting so much more now that you’ve had a taste of him again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
“Good,” he pants, grazing the tip of his nose on yours. “I don’t plan to.”
You’re unable to take a breath before his mouth crashes against yours, but you don’t mind, not when you immediately lose yourself to the way he feels. The kiss is desperate, with his tongue seeking entrance right away and then entangling with yours. Yet it still feels gentle with how he holds you, as his one hand continues to caress your face while the other glides down your side torso, settling on your hip to pull you closer.
Your fingers grip his dress shirt, needing that anchor to ground you as you feel yourself drifting, getting lost in what you’re feeling - pure desire, an insatiable need, a sense of relief that there’s finally nothing holding you back. He angles your head, allowing him to go even deeper, and you let him take control, you let him breathe you in, let his tongue explore your depths before he pulls back and nibbles your lower lip.
But he doesn’t stop just like he said, as he makes his way to your neck. You moan once you feel him lick the shell of your ear, the sound urging him to do more. He finds spots that have you grunting in pleasure, sucking and licking and pressing soft kisses on them, leaving you a pleading mess. You chant his name, grind against him for that friction you badly need, and pull on his shirt, as if wanting that barrier gone.
“Fuck,” he groans, meeting your hips. “Fuck, you sound good.”
Jungkook feels the shiver of your skin, as his mouth slides up and down your neck while he grabs your waist. He loses himself in the sounds of your moans - constant and yearning - just as heavenly as he remembers. You’re pliant, moving your head to give him access, letting him explore whatever’s exposed for him to do as he pleases, to taste whatever you can offer right now.
He pulls you for a kiss once again, and there seems to be more desperation now, as you try to dominate, to taste him, to keep him there. Your hand finds his, guiding it to map your body, to let him know where you want him, to tell him where he can go. He curses under his breath when he feels your breast, fondling it for the brief moment it’s there before you direct it further down. You know exactly what you want and he’ll give it to you.
The front slit of your dress makes it easy, and when his finger grazes your clothed cunt, you let out a sound that rings in his ear, and he wants more of it.
“You like that?” He huffs in your ear. “You want me to touch you like that?”
“Ye—yes,” you mumble, unable to say anything more.
Jungkook hears your desire. He feels it, too, but he teases a little, gliding down the wet patch before slowly pressing on your clit. You jerk a little, briefly pulling away from him so you can take in a long breath. You bite your lip and he knows that you’re holding yourself back.
But he wants more and he can tell that so do you. He doesn’t care where you are right now; all he wants is to taste you, to feel you pulsate against his tongue, to make you feel good and let you know what he can give.
He looks down where his fingers have slipped past your underwear then back at you, the lick of his lips his way of seeking permission. You seem to know what he means, and you nod, granting it to him. He pulls you again for a kiss, much rougher this time, before he pushes you against the desk and lifts you so you could sit on the edge, just like that first time. But like you said, you won’t stop him anymore. And he truly doesn’t have an intention to.
His mouth moves down actively, kissing every clothed and exposed part of you it passes while slowly lifting up your dress. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs open, aching to taste even more of you. But he glances up and sees the anticipation on your face, his mind hypnotized even with just this view alone.
Holding your gaze, he teases, with his tongue merely grazing your throbbing cunt.
You tense up but it’s what gets you pleading.
“Please,” you whimper, the sight of him from below leaving you in a daze. “Jung—want—plea—I—”
You’re unable to form proper words so he finally gives in, pulling your underwear to the side. He grunts, as the sight of your wet lips has his dick getting even harder. Your desire matches his, and all he wants is to fulfill your need.
With the barrier gone, he presses his tongue flatly over your clit, warming it up first before he starts moving around. He alternates fervent licks on it with slow movements everywhere else - on your lips, on the sides of your thighs, and inside your hole. It’s messy and absolutely mind numbing, as your scent and and the way you taste divine have him burying himself even deeper into you, losing himself even more when he feels your hand in his hair, pushing him towards you as if you don’t want him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t mind. He’d live here if he could.
You start to give in, your legs slowly closing on him but he pushes them apart, keeping them open so he could do more. With his movements, he pulls you closer to the edge - of the table, of your orgasm - and he buries his face there again, licking and sucking and moaning like a man starved.
The sounds you make drive him crazy, and that's with you still holding back. You’re still in his office, doing something you both definitely shouldn’t, and he supposes you don’t want your obscene sounds to echo throughout the floor despite it being empty. He can’t wait to hear you without anything stopping you.
You start to shake and that’s how he knows you’re close. He feels your uneven breathing, hears your broken chants of his name, and sees your grip on the table getting tighter. He wants to take you there, and with one final nip of your clit, you crash, the low, long-winded sound satisfying his need to pleasure you.
You try to catch your breath while he laps up your juices. You’re still sensitive, as your legs jerk with every movement of his. He takes a peak and sees your half-lidded eyes and parted mouth, but you eventually return to your senses and meet his gaze. You’ve had enough, it seems, as you pull him up and meet his lips.
Jungkook tastes of you, and you kiss him languidly, still out of breath and definitely in a daze. You want more of him, though; you want to bury yourself in him and elicit hypnotizing sounds that’ll have him chant your name, too, so you start to palm his hard length in return. But he goes soft on you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist before he cups your cheeks again while he returns your kisses.
“This feels quite familiar,” you hum against his lips.
“Really? I don’t remember you pushing my head between your thighs the last time,” he teases.
“Oh, shush,” you frown, quickly realizing exactly what you’d done. “I can’t believe I had you eat me out on your desk. In your office. On a work night, too. And while you have an event going on. Your father will be so angry.”
“Good thing he won’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, clearly unbothered.
But you aren’t, so you pout at him. “What was I thinking?”
“Maybe you missed me too much, and I can’t blame you, since you know, I did, too,” he reasons, his shy smile turning cheeky in a second. “Or maybe you wanted to leave me with a gift or something,” he smirks.
“True. When you’re stressed at work you can just remember what you did to me here and then you’ll feel better, I guess.”
“Actually, that’ll probably frustrate me,” he chuckles, pulling you closer again and wrapping his arms around you. “Thinking about how good you sound and how amazing you taste without you around… Yeah, I’d be angry.”
His praise flusters you, and you briefly turn away. But he assures you again that his father won’t know, and that you’re in the clear despite the indecency you both committed.
“And it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “That is worth whatever trouble I’ll be in, if it happens. I… I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted you right away.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks again, and you giggle and bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting, the way he giggles back but hugs you tighter. He smells just as you remember, and you think that this is how you want your days to go from now on - flushed against his chest, cradled in his arms, with his soft lips giving you shivers as he kisses your forehead.
It’s just your joint breaths that you hear now, and you turn to him, your soft smile making his heart skip a beat, and he knows that this is how he wants his days to go from now on - safe in your embrace, with your soft lips tracing his jaw and leaving teasing pecks on his cheeks. He captures them in his, basking in the taste of you, and it’s not long after when the kiss intensifies, leaving him wanting more again.
But just as you return his desire, it’s at that moment when the phone rings, catching both of you off guard and in surprise. He appeases you, as your eyes look at him in worry. He picks up the call, and he hums in confirmation before putting the phone down.
“The building is scheduled for sanitation in half an hour,” he says. “We have to go.”
“Oh right. I remember putting that in our calendars,” you hum, getting off the table and feeling the dampness of your underwear.
You fix your dress, trying to make it less uncomfortable. You turn to him who looks at you shyly.
“Can I take you home with me?” He asks. “Maybe we could, uh, continue this and you know, make up for the time we spent apart?”
“Yes,” you respond, feeling your heart race at the possibilities of tonight. “I’d like that.”
He nods, unable to control his own smile. He motions towards the door and you walk out side-by-side, knowing enough that there are security cameras around. There’s at least that unspoken agreement that neither of you want the attention that could come from having this exposed, whatever this is. But you suppose you have time to figure it out. You’ve both expressed enough that you want each other; you’ll just have to talk about how to move forward and make up for all that’s happened.
It’s cheeky glances from the elevator down to the car. But once he drives out of the building, he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He smiles when you tighten your hold, as if to say that you don’t want to let go of him, too.
You explain that you woke up late and had to buy a dress that’s why you didn’t get to him earlier. You share how you met the team and then his father, and the anticipation you felt on the way to the office to see him.
Jungkook narrates how his day went, saying that the interview and press conference were successful, and that he received so much praise from the artists for how the Arts Center turned out. You compliment him, too, saying how everything looks grand but that each individual space feels intimate, personal, and that you can’t wait to explore it further.
The conversation is a good distraction, as the moment from earlier still has you reeling internally. His taste is addictive, and there’s just so much more of him you want to see, to feel, to immerse yourself in. He seems a bit impatient, too. He’s driving close to the speed limit, perhaps wanting to get to his place as soon as he can to continue what you both started. With everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t mind doing it all night.
You finally make it to his building, and he constantly pulls you close as you make your way up, with his hand snaking around your waist while you smile at him. But when he opens his door and you enter his penthouse, he keeps his distance, letting you walk through his hallway and into his kitchen as he looks on.
He walks slowly towards you and his heart starts to beat faster, knowing he’s got you alone now, and that there’s no limit to what both of you could do. But though he wants to just take you in his arms, feel you against him again, and kiss you until you both run out of air, he decides to savor this first - the sight of you back in his apartment.
It’s been so long. And with you looking as beautiful as you do in your pink dress, he wants to ingrain this image of you in his mind - happy and content, with a tender smile that’s already healing the parts of him that once hurt.
“Your place looks the same as the last time I was here,” you say, looking around.
“Well, I haven’t really been spending time here,” he shrugs. “I was too busy being an idiot and making this children’s library for this girl that I’m really, really into to make up for it. And well, she’s here with me now. I feel like this place is going to start feeling like home.”
“Plants would help. And maybe some personal photos,” you tease, but you reach out your hand that he takes and you pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and grazing your nose against his. “But I’m also here. And I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I just happen to really, really be into you, too.”
He laughs, and it’s a sound you once said you want to hear all the time. You think from now on, you will.
“Good. I’d like to keep you for as long as I can.”
His eyes turn serious and it makes you feel hot all over. It’s hard not to use his playboy lifestyle as a basis for how he’d be, and you can’t help but think just how good he’s going to make you feel. There’s always been so much tension with him that in hindsight, you’ve always tried to quell or overlook, but there’s no need for that anymore. You’ll let your desire take over, release all that lust and yearning until he knows just how much you want him in ways words could never express.
But just as he closes the distance between you, the doorbell rings, and his groan of frustration makes you laugh. It’s as if the universe is edging both of you with these distractions.
Jungkook looks at you in apology and agony. “That might be Mr. Ri. Or Lucas,” he says, remembering that they’d said that they’ll drop off some of the gifts he received in celebration of today. If he doesn’t answer, they’ll probably enter on their own, since he’s given them permission to.
So he lets you go and heads towards the door while you scurry to the left towards the hallway.
You doubt whoever it is would come all the way inside so you don’t really attempt to hide, but you do lean by the wall and listen in. You’re appeased to know it’s Mr. Ri, as you see him enter with several gifts and packages.
“These are from the artists and the Board. There are art pieces in the cart outside so just bring them in,” he instructs, oblivious to you standing not far away. “They gave you lots of alcohol, too. I thought to bring them here already for whatever reason you might need them.”
The older man chuckles and finally looks up and sees you.
“And I assume that reason is to celebrate,” he smiles now, and you don’t miss the smug look on his face that makes you feel flustered. “I was just gonna say that ___ was looking for you,” he turns to Jungkook. “Looks like she’s found you.”
“She… she did,” Jungkook smiles back.
“Good. It’s about time you kids made up,” he teasingly rolls his eyes. Heavens know how much he had to deal with, with you and Jungkook being such hard-headed idiots.
“We were in the middle of it but then we got disrupted,” Jungkook frowns, to the amusement of the older man.
“Oh, I wonder who did that,” Mr. Ri teases. “I better get going then.”
He sets aside the boxes and turns to both of you.
“But before I leave, I just… I just want to congratulate you, Jungkook. The Arts Center is a beautiful piece of artwork. And that… that last-minute thing you did… I’m telling you now that it drove your father crazy. But he… he told me how proud he is of you,” he continues, his look softening as he recalls their recent conversations, including the one just before he drove here. “To do all that for someone you care about, that takes a lot of heart. I think that you, finding it and using it is what he’s happiest about.”
His words are followed by Jungkook’s nod, perhaps in appreciation, and silence, as you’re unsure what else could be said after that. Mr. Ri excuses himself after bringing in the last set of gifts and there’s still that soft smile on his face before he leaves.
It’s happening, he thinks, and despite all the time it took for you and Jungkook to get here, he supposes it was the only way. It would’ve been easier if he or even Yoongi or Hoseok went ahead and spoke to both of you, perhaps to say it was all a misunderstanding or that there was nothing to be afraid of, not when you both undeniably felt the same way.
But he also knew that you both had to come to that realization on your own, that life without each other isn’t something neither of you wanted. You also had to make that decision for yourselves - to be vulnerable, to be brave, to take risks, and to find out that it would all be worth it if you’re just honest about how you feel. It seems you’ve both figured it out now, and he can finally feel at ease that two of the most important people in his life can now take care of each other, and that the love he gave helped both of you to get here.
Jungkook leads him out the door then returns to you, and as he walks to where you are, you’re finally able to appreciate how he looks. It’s just like the other times when he had an event to go to - hair slicked back, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dress shirt accentuating his toned chest, and the fit of his trousers showing off the rest of his figure. You eye him up and down and he smirks at you in response.
“So… you exposed yourself, Mr. Jeon,” you say, pulling the neck of his tie to bring him closer to you. “Who taught you how to use your heart like that?”
“Who knew I even had one in the first place?”
“I did.”
“Not at the start though,” he says, with a hint of guilt in his eyes.
“It was there, you were just hiding it. But I saw it. And I got used to it. Then I couldn’t get enough of it, of you,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And now I just… I want more of it, Jungkook. I want all of you.”
Having you be so bold about what you want does something to him. It already got him weak in the knees when you directed his hand where you wanted it earlier and when you looked at him to grant permission about having a taste of you. Hearing you say you want all of him causes his mind to short circuit, but he recovers quickly, as he nods and releases a breath before cupping your face in his hands then crashing his mouth into yours again.
It’s sloppier this time, as you both try to take in as much of each other as you can. Your tongues battle for dominance, you nibble and lick each other’s lips, and you moan with every breath as he’s got you caged against the wall, your hands gripping on his shirt to pull him even closer.
You feel Jungkook’s length hardening as he’s flushed against you, and you grind against him, needing that friction badly. He meets your hips and releases your face from his hold, supporting your back that now arches as you chase him, as he finds purchase on your neck, licking and sucking to elicit the most obscene sounds from you. He kneads your ass while you moan his name and plead for more, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure with just this, and you can’t wait for what comes after.
“Please,” you beg, as you feel your cunt throb in pain.
Jungkook doesn’t need you to say anything else, as he has the same desire to feel your body. There’s so much he wants to do to you, so much more he wants to touch and feel. He wants to know how else you sound like, what makes you lose your breath, what makes you quiver and shake. He wants to know how else his mouth could make you come and how his fingers can drive you wild. He wants to know how your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, how much of him you can take, and how it’s like to be buried deep inside your warm walls as your essence coats him.
He wants you right now, so he heads towards the closest room, guiding you backwards as he unzips your dress and removes your bra. His hands immediately map your bare body, feeling the shiver in your skin with every movement. You whimper when he fondles your breast, and the thought of you being sensitive to his touch makes him even harder.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he guides you to lie down. He trails downward, nibbling as he goes and memorizing your body this way. His mouth reaches your waist, and from here, he finds himself intoxicated from your scent. He slowly removes your soaked underwear and the sight of your went cunt makes him throb in pain.
You’re so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He can’t believe he waited so long to have you like this.
He thumbs your clit, and your continuous moans and calls of his name make him give in. He stands up and smirks at you and, taking your hand, he replaces his fingers with yours, his eyes ordering you to touch yourself.
You follow, and though it doesn’t feel as good as how he does it, the pleasure hits differently when you watch him loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. All those months of doing your morning routine comes back to you - now you get to see all that’s underneath the clothes you prepare, and when he pulls down his trousers, your mouth drops the same time it does. He’s thick and veiny, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you.
His eyes are on your sopping cunt while yours are on his fingers as they stroke his length, getting himself ready for you. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, and while there’s the tiniest bit of disappointment, you don’t mind. It’s something you’ll eventually talk about. Right now, you just want him inside of you and you call out for him another time, prompting him to smirk once again and walk towards you.
He replaces your hand with his fingers this time, and when he returns to touching you, he climbs on the bed and hovers over you, lowering himself for a searing kiss.
“Good girl,” he hums against your lips.
You lose it, as if you hadn’t lost yourself already, but his deep voice and the way he grunts against your skin do something to you. You feel his cock not long after, and no amount of yearning for him could prepare you for how good he feels. He fills you up just right, and the gradual way he enters you while his eyes bore into yours has your stomach in knots and your heart beating out of your chest.
“Fuck, fuck,” he mouths as he goes deeper. “Fuck, baby, you feel so, so good.”
He hits the edge and he settles for a while, letting you get used to the feel of him, but when you start to grind against him, he decides to do the same.
He moves his hips, pushing then pulling out then pushing harder. He raises himself and intently watches your face distort in pleasure - your breath hitching, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded as you moan his name, as if it’s the only word you’ll remember after all this. He starts to increase the pace, loving the way your breasts bounce in response. Then he slows down, only so he could capture one of them in his mouth to suck and the other, in his hand to touch.
The feeling of ecstasy overtakes you. He doesn’t go rough all the way, as you initially expected he would. Instead, he paces himself, going fast for a period of time and then slowing down to let both of you bask in the feel of each other. He doesn’t seem to want either of you to come right away, you can tell, by the way he moves and the way he looks at you - with a kind of longing and desire that feels so intimate.
He gets back on his knees after and spreads your legs, giving him more space to pound into you, and with his hands gripping your hips, he pulls it towards him to meet his. You feel him deeper inside, and it has you holding onto your breasts, pleasuring yourself there, too, as he starts fondling your clit once again.
You’re feeling everything everywhere, and your mind starts to go hazy when he lifts your leg and places it over his shoulder, allowing him to enter you from an angle that has you mewling in intense pleasure. You feel your eyes rolling out, but somehow they land on him, and the way his head tilts back while he grunts in pleasure as he caresses your thigh is a sight that you want to keep seeing. That image of his clenched jaw and strained neck will be ingrained in your mind from now on.
You continue with this pace for a while until he lowers himself and kisses you, hard and deep the same way he thrusts into your hole. With his chest flushed against yours, his mouth sucking and licking your neck, and his hand flicking your pert nipples, you come, the deep inhale and the exhale of moans echoing inside the bedroom.
Jungkook feels your essence despite the barrier, and it’s a kind of euphoria that pushes him to reach his peak. He hovers over you again, pinning your hands to your side for that anchor he needs. He meets your tongue with his, and then he pounds hard, wanting that high as you come down from yours. But you don’t hold back, as you meet his hips and curse and tell him how good he feels
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you seethe. “You fuck me so good. Fuck, fuck, yes. Keep going, please baby. Keep going.”
Your words push him over the edge, and he crashes before he knows it. He grunts as he catches a breath, a way to express the intense pleasure he just experienced. But he sees you still panting. You may have already come but another one won’t hurt, so he nibbles on your breasts again, knowing it won’t take long. You’re already close, and with a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, he feels you quiver again.
“Come for me again, baby,” he mumbles. “I wanna hear your pretty sounds again.”
It doesn’t take long. There’s a tone of your moan that lets him know you’ve reached your peak, and he keeps that in mind for everyday that he plans on doing this to you.
You catch your breath, feeling as if you’re in a daze with what you just experienced. As you come down again, you meet his eyes. They were intense and lustful earlier but they’re soft now, just as his smile is. There’s contentment on his face and adoration. He kisses your lips, and that’s soft, too, before he turns to your side and lies on his back.
Jungkook feels the exhilaration from that ride with you, and he definitely wants to do it again. But he knows he’ll have to recover. He turns to you and thinks that you’ll need some time, too, but he can’t help himself. He presses soft kisses on your torso, up until he reaches your cheek, and that causes you to smile.
He finally stands up and tells you he’ll clean up, and you nod, somehow needing a moment alone to wrap your mind around what just happened.
It’s different, you think, when sex is with someone you actually feel really strongly for. All the ones before don’t compare. Sure, you were attracted to the men you dated, but they never made you feel anything close to this. Perhaps it’s Jungkook, but maybe it’s also you - for the first time, you’re giving more than just your time and your energy. For the first time, you’re giving your heart, too. All of it.
The thought makes you giddy. It also makes you shy because it all feels new. And it suddenly makes you hyper aware of where you are.
You look around. This is a new room. Other than Jungkook’s bedroom, you’ve only been to his study; this door was always closed and you never had a reason to see what’s behind it. You know he doesn’t really have people over but you assume an extra bedroom is always good to have.
You start to feel cold without Jungkook’s warmth, so you shift on the end and pull the covers, burying yourself under it. You don’t remember where your dress is, and you’re suddenly too shy to just head out the room and get it. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits the bathroom with his boxers on, and even that has you feeling all kinds of things.
“Hey,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold?”
“A bit,” you respond.
He looks around and spots his dress shirt on the foot of the bed. He takes it and pulls away the blanket so he can make you wear it. He buttons it and fixes your hair, parting the damp strands and tucking them behind your ear. He helps you stand then you scurry towards the bathroom to clean yourself up.
You don’t take long as you don’t want to make him wait, and when you open the door, you see him with his trousers back on, fixing the bed. On top of it are your folded dress and underwear. Between that and the shirt you’re wearing, something inside you stirs as you’re reminded again of how thoughtful Jungkook is. You like him for so many reasons, and now that you get to be with him like this, you’ll get to know him even more.
You don’t realize you’re staring at him as he moves about until he starts walking towards you.
“I’ll get your clothes dry cleaned. Is that okay?”
You nod, giddy again and unable to speak.
“I was also, uh, thinking. Do you want to spend the night with me? And maybe the one after, too?” He asks.
“I’d like that,” you smile.
“Good,” he smiles back, kissing you deeply. “I was really hoping we get to do more of that.”
You laugh in response even if deep inside, you’re screaming in excitement. You’re still overwhelmed by all this, but you know that spending the evening and then waking up next to him will let you ease into this new life that you have.
He laughs, too, when your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten anything since you left your mother’s house, and that was almost 12 hours ago.
“I actually don’t have anything in my fridge so let’s just order out.”
You nod, and shortly after, you find yourself sitting on the couch with him, your legs laying over his lap while his fingers caress your thigh. He’s got his arm around you and you sit there, just talking, while you wait for your dinner to arrive.
You stay on the dining table when it does, and you remain there after you’ve both wiped out all the food. You both clean up, liking the domesticity that feels more real now, even more when he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom.
“I don’t have any makeup remover or anything like that,” he says from inside his bathroom. “Just cleanser. Is that okay?”
“Uh, yeah, that should be fine,” you say, following him inside.
He places some skincare items on the counter and says that he’ll buy your brand this weekend. He grabs a towel and places it on the stool next to the shower before he turns to you.
There’s a look of desire in your eyes, and though he’d initially thought that maybe you’d want to wash up on your own, the way you’re biting your lips makes him think that maybe you don’t.
He walks towards you and, with his fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt you have on, he looks at you in question as a way to seek permission. You nod, and it’s his confirmation. There’s something about you speaking to him with your eyes that has him nervous, but every approval you give stirs something in him. There’s your shyness but there’s also that desire to have him close.
He undoes the shirt, and though he’s already seen your bare body earlier, it still takes his breath away, as if it’s the first time he’s being graced with this, only because he’s been craving it for weeks.
Not much is said when he undresses after you, but you don’t really need words. Right as he turns on the warm shower, your lips are already on his. It’s sensual this time, as you both seem to want to savor this now that you have more time to spare. There’s still so much he wants to know and to feel, and he supposes there’ll be more days to learn all that.
But then again, that could also be today, as you kneel on the floor and take his hardening dick in your mouth. You’re just as heavenly as he imagined, even more when you let him come on your chest and he’s dazed with how turned on you look. He finishes you off with you caged against the wall, your breasts in his mouth and his fingers inside your hole. It’s more languid kisses once you decide to actually take a shower, and going slow as you caress each other’s bodies is another feeling that he wants to keep having.
He gives you one of his shirts to wear before you both head to his bed. It’s past midnight and the day has started to catch up to him. He’s been tired since midday, and he would’ve crashed on his couch after finishing a bottle of whiskey if you hadn’t come.
But you did, and the past few hours have been nothing short of amazing, as if it’s a dream he doesn’t believe is really happening. You lay next to his side, looking warm and comfortable with the softest smile on your face, a contrast to how you looked when you took him so deep in your mouth and moaned curses while you pulled on his hair as you came on his fingers.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask him.
“A lot of things. Also nothing,” he says. “So much has happened today and I just… I just wanna sleep but I also want to stay awake with you a bit longer.”
“We’ll have more time together though,” you assure him. “We can talk about them tomorrow.”
He hums, knowing that his weekends from now on will no longer be boring like they used to be.
“What about you, what are you thinking about?”
“That your bed is so soft and your pillows smell so nice,” you respond, earning you a laugh. “Better than the one earlier. Although come to think of it, I didn’t even know you had a guest room.”
“It’s, well, uh… I wouldn’t really call it a guest room. I don’t really make people sleep there. Unless, they, uh, stay the night even if I told them not to.”
With his embarrassed face, the thought dawns on you.
“You have a room specifically for your hookups?” You gasp. “You fucked me in your hookup room!”
You don’t seem angry but still, he supposes it doesn’t sound good when you say it like that.
“That… that was the closest room with something to lie on and I just wanted you so badly,” he explains, truly looking like he feels bad about it. “I only have that because I don’t let people in my room and well, you’re here now, aren’t you? I don’t like people being inside my space but you… I want you here. I’m sorry.”
He looks at you with apologetic eyes and you suddenly feel bad for reacting the way you did. It’s not a big deal. Maybe it isn’t ideal when you look back on it but then again, he fucked you so good, it doesn’t really matter. It also doesn’t matter where he does it. But maybe claiming other parts of his penthouse isn’t so bad.
“It’s okay, you made up for it,” you say, kissing his pouty lips to let him know it’s fine.
There’s really nothing you can complain about, not when you’re next to him and feeling the safety and warmth of being by his side. There’s that comfort of being able to say and do what you want to, including expressing your desire without holding back anymore. That itself feels like freedom, and you get to live that out with him.
“We should probably skip that room for next time,” you add. “I mean, you have a nice bathtub and a spacious closet and a large couch and a wide dining table.., you have a study, a gym…” you smirk, something he does, too. “We have so many options.”
“We do,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you now. “We also have my bed, in case you forgot.”
“I was just about to say,” you giggle, sitting up and motioning for him to lie on his back. His smile is replaced with a lustful look once you start grinding against his clothed dick. “So, uhm, shall we?”
He grabs your hips and aids your movements, immediately feeling pleasure that he fortunately isn’t too tired to build on. He sits up and catches your lips in his.
“I can do this all night,” he whispers.
And with languid kisses and curious hands mapping each other’s bodies, you feel the beginnings of learning what your heart could do. Right now, it’s racing, as it feels the desire to be one with him, to share in intimacy and vulnerability as you bare parts of yourself to him with no reservations.
You know that starting today, there’ll be more that your heart will learn to do, like understand and forgive. One day, it will heal. And as it soars and finds a home in Jungkook’s arms, you know that one day, it will learn how to love, too.
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Do You Get It Yet?
hi guys!! this is one day late, but i literally fell asleep trying to proof read last night, so… you win some you lose some.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer Reid is your professor and you really, really need help. If only he wasn’t so distracting.
warnings: smut, little bit of fluff, professor/student relationship, unprotected sex w/ talk of contraceptives, age gap (both parties of age), breeding kink, choking, and some light degradation
this is a fun one guys! let me know what you think!
You swear you aren’t stupid. Really, honestly you aren’t. You’ve done well in school your whole life, not always outstanding, but you’ve always done well.
Right now however, you feel completely dumb. You’re in you third year of university, and up to this point, you’ve done good. Your classes are challenging but rewarding, and you have a wonderful group of people in your life. You have a cat and an apartment to yourself. You have wonderful friends, Lena and Eden, who’ve been with you since your freshman year and who you loved like sisters. Everything in your life was going right, except for your stupid, stupid criminal psychology class.
You should love it. You’ve taken classes like it before and they really weren’t a problem for you, but for whatever reason, you can’t wrap your head around the subject matter at all. Everything you learn seems to morph together and you can’t get it to sort itself out. Your teacher, Dr. Reid, is incredible. He is a genuine genius, member of the BAU (your dream job), and to top it off, he is incredibly attractive. Not just to you either! Half the class is auditing, which probably contributes to your troubles. It’s hard to focus when everyone around you is constantly whispering about how fucking hot the teacher is.
You try to avoid it. You sit at the front of the room, not the first row, but still front and center. Even so, right behind you are two or three girls who will not stop talking about him. Sure, they’re saying what you’re thinking, but good god does it get annoying. You’ve tried pointed looks, a few aggressive hair flips and humphs, and even a few well timed shushings, but they will not let up. You’d move seats but the class is full and everyone has seemed to have already found a place.
So, really, your lack of understanding was not only on you. Dr. Reid us distractingly hot, the girls behind you will not shut up, and the subject matter is just plain tricky. All of this leads you to spend a big chunk of your free time in your professors office hours, which always seem to be full.
You get it. Girls, and some boys, show up looking their best and asking all sorts of questions, and honestly if you were in a different position you’d probably do the same thing. But, you aren’t, and you really need help. You go to his room completely disheveled with a notebook full of questions that for the most part stayed unanswered. You’re lucky to get five minutes of his undivided attention. Again, you get it, those minutes are the highlights of you week, but, your grade is starting to slip.
Finally, it gets to be too much, and you find yourself spending nearly the whole class building up the courage to ask to speak with him privately. Right when he concludes his lecture you spring up out of your seat and go straight to him, surely annoying some of your other classmates.
“Dr. Reid?”
He looks up from his desk, “Hi! Ms.?”
“Y/n. Or Y/l/n, I guess. I was hoping to talk to you privately if you had time?”
“Oh! Um, sure, of course. Let me just wrap up here. You can wait in the seats.”
This has already gone better than you thought it would. Half of you expected the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be gibberish.
“Thank you so much.”
You hurry off to take a seat and wait, and wait, and wait. Around five other people stay around to try and speak with him, and while you catch him anxiously glancing over at you, each conversation still seems to stretch on and on. Finally, after close to 15 minutes, the final student leaves and it’s just you and Dr. Reid left in the room.
He looks over at you and motions for you to join him at his desk, “I’m so sorry that took so long. People tend to have a lot of questions after my lectures.”
You take a seat in front of him, “It’s no worries. That was actually part of what I wanted to speak to you about.”
You pause, wondering how you should word what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to go on, but he doesn’t seem impatient.
“I’ve come to all your office hours, and it helps, I’m just still struggling and I, uh, I just feel like it’s not enough time to get my questions answered, I guess?”
You’re looking at anything but him at this point, “I’m sorry I’m just kinda out of my element. I love this subject and normally it clicks for me, but it’s just won’t. I have a notebook full of questions and I’m worried I won’t be able to figure anything out. Sorry, I think I’m just rambling at this point.”
“No, don’t apologize, I understand. This class is challenging, and a lot of the subject matter is hard to research.”
He stops to laugh, “My office hours do tend to be pretty full. I’m, well to be honest I’m not sure why. A lot of the questions people have tend to be things I explained in my lectures.”
Without thinking, you cut him off, “I think people just want to be around you.”
He looks surprised at your words, and you are as well. You didn’t mean to say that at all.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry. It’s just with a teacher that looks like you, god, no. I mean with a teacher like you-“
Your cheeks grow hotter by the second, “You know what, I think I can figure this out on my own! I’m sorry for-“
He stops you before you can finish, “Y/n, I’ve taught this class before. Half the people are auditing. I’ve gathered what that means.”
He cracks a smile at that and you feel your heart flutter.
“I meant I’m not sure why people would waste their time trying to, uh, impress me at office hours. They’re meant for students like you.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do on that front. My hours are open to anyone.”
Your shoulders deflate a bit at that, worrying you’ve wasted your time and his for nothing. He doesn’t let you stay like that for long though.
“I want to help you though. Truly. I know reaching out for help is hard and I’m glad you did.”
You look up at him then, “I can set aside some time for you once a week if you’re comfortable? We can review everything you’re not sure on until you’re up to speed.”
You were not expecting that. You thought he’d look over your questions and give you some articles and journals to review at best.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t. I’m offering, Y/n.”
“Then I think yes, I’d like that a lot.”
“Great! Email me some times that work for you and we’ll get started.”
~
This is all, admittedly, a bit above your pay grade.
Despite your best efforts, you are not a chill girl. You’re not very cool. There’s nothing wrong with that usually! You’re shy, but still manage to talk people’s ear off. It’s normally a non-issue: that’s just how you are. Today however, you are meeting with Dr. Reid and you are so not chill about it.
You had his class yesterday, and while you feel better knowing you’ll finally have help, you couldn’t focus on anything but today, so you retained nothing. All you can think about is saying something stupid or off putting and having him start to despise you.
You know you shouldn’t worry this much. He’s a professional, you’re trying to be, it should all go smoothly. They’re just the issue of the colony of butterflies who have taken up residence in your stomach. You’re nervous, so nervous, and you are not the type to get this crazy over some guy. Yes, Dr. Reid is probably the hottest person you’ve ever met, but he’s still human! You think… the fact that he’s some sort of super genius with multiple (multiple!) phds does not help to calm you.
Your entire walk to Dr. Reid’s office is spent worrying over all of this. In fact, you’re so caught in your head you find yourself barreling into someone’s back as you walk through the door of the psychology department.
You rush to squeak out an apology while picking up your notebook, but are stopped short when you look up. It’s Dr. Reid. Of course it’s Dr. Reid. You seem unable to be in the same vicinity of him without making a fool of yourself, so why would today be any different. You’d hoped to be able to manage yourself for the better part of an hour, but your professors unbelievably solid back has literally knocked you on your ass.
You do notice a ghost of a smile on his face when you look up, and you’d like to think he’s admiring you clumsiness, but it’s not likely.
“Hi,” you manage to say after a near excruciatingly long silence.
“I’m really sorry, I clearly wasn’t looking at where I was walking.”
He laughs a bit, “It’s no problem honestly. You were the one knocked off your feet, so I really can’t be upset aside from the fact you may have hurt yourself.”
This makes you breath hitch a bit. Maybe you are incredibly starved for attention from the male gender, but the slight affection of his words made you blush.
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
If you were any more articulate you’d be a public speaker, but at least you always seem to make the man in front of you laugh.
“I was on my way to my office to meet with you, but since I already have, you can walk with me.”
You nod, pushing yourself off the ground, then blush again when you realize you had this entire conversation on the ground.
The walk is silent, and you’re sure it’s more uncomfortable for you than it is for him. Any question you had has completely exited your mind, and all you can think about is how good he looks in a suit, and how much staring you can reasonably get away with.
Your first session is sweet. You manage to hold it together in Dr. Reid’s presence. He is incredibly helpful one on one, and you feel more confident about the class than you have in weeks. Before you finish, he asks if you’d like to meet again.
“Yeah, if that’s alright. This helped so much, but I think I still probably need to do some more catch up work.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Y/n, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
He pauses for a moment, like he’s considering something, before going on.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to give you my cell. I want you to be able to reach me if you need to reschedule, especially if we continue meeting, and it’s a bit easier than email.”
You’re a bit stunned but manage to reply, “Of course! But, um, is that allowed? I don’t want to over step.”
He looks away from you for a moment before replying, “I’m honestly not sure. Maybe we just don’t tell anyone?”
You have to bite back a grin, but you nod nonetheless and exchange numbers.
Although you know you shouldn’t be, you’re giddy the entire walk home.
~
So far, you’ve met with Dr. Reid three times and haven’t had to use his number once. Not that you’d been looking for an opportunity to though! It just hasn’t come up at all until today.
It’s been raining all morning, which normally you wouldn’t mind, but you’re slightly under the weather and the thought of walking to campus and risking getting more sick doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest. Though it’s not normally an issue, moments like this make you really wish you had a car.
You’ve asked everyone you knew for a ride, but they were all busy.
Currently, you were on the phone with Lena, listening as she tries to calm you down.
“He gave you his number, Y/n. Just text him and say you’re sick and can’t make it.”
“It’s the day of though! I don’t want to come off as unprofessional.”
“Babe, again, you have his number. Your relationship isn’t exactly the most profesh in the first place.”
“It’s not like that, Lena.”
“Just text him. Over explain everything like you know you want to. He’ll probably think it’s cute, maybe he’ll even offer to come take care of you.”
You can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, but, still, you rush to defend him.
“You know it’s not like that.”
“Whatever you say, babe. I gotta go, but text him. It’ll be fine.”
You say your goodbyes, and deep down you know she’s right. About texting him, not the shy sort of seduction act she thinks you have.
After contemplating for a few more minutes, you type out your message and hit send.
You: Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Y/n from your criminal psych class. I know we’re supposed to meet today, but I’m feeling like I have a bit of a cold coming on and don’t want to risk walking in the rain.
You: I’m sorry it’s late notice, if I could get there I would, scout’s honor.
You were never in girl scouts. You don’t actually know why you said that at all, but it’s too late to take it back now.
As much as you try not to, you watch your phone screen, waiting for a response.
Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. You see a typing bubble pop up, then disappear, then pop up again, before finally two messages come through.
Dr. Reid: I completely understand. Don’t worry.
Dr. Reid: I could come to you? If you’re comfortable.
When you read that, you feel your stomach drop to your ass. You decidedly not expect him to offer anything like that. A few things fly through your mind, but mainly that Lena may have been right, and having your professor come to your apartment is, at least, frowned up by admin. Still, the image of him in front of you, in your home, with your cat, is too much to resist.
With shaking fingers, you text him back.
You: That would be wonderful if you’re sure you’re okay with it.
You: Friendly warning, I have a very affectionate cat.
Dr. Reid: Good to know. Is 4 still alright?
You shoot him back a quick yes and your address, and then get to cleaning every square inch of your apartment.
~
Dr. Reid is an angel on Earth.
When you hear a knock at your door, you have to stop before answering to regulate your breathing. When you finally do, you see your professor in front of you in a cardigan (a fucking cardigan) and togo cup of tea that he immediately hands to you.
It’s all like a hopeless romantics wet dream. Hot professor, in the rain, at your house, who clearly cares about you in some way? It’s like he’s trying to kill you.
You step aside to let him in and move to your couch, “You really didn’t have to do this.”
He stands for a moment before sitting at the opposite end and saying through a laugh,“The tea or coming over?”
“Both, I guess? I just feel bad that Ive take up so much of your time. I feel like a bit of an inconvenience.”
“Y/n, please stop worrying so much over this. I want to help you learn, it’s not an inconvenience or a both or unnecessary.”
You really look at him then, trying to read whether or not he’s being genuinely. He just seems too good to be true, like he’s a fiction character made just for you. Well, not just for you, but in your fantasies that’s how you’ll think about it.
The next couple hours are spent reviewing material you are sure he taught weeks ago and stealing glancing at his mouth when you are sure he is not looking. Your kitty makes a few appearances too, and seems to have formed an instant attachment to the doctor. You are not as sly with your staring as you’d like to think, and get caught a few too many times. Honestly, you are trying desperately not to think about anything but academia, but he makes it so unbelievably hard. Not to put the blame on him for your insatiability, but jesus fuck. Intelligence has always been incredibly sexy to you, and it oozes from him
Despite the distraction, you’ve been doing good in terms of building your understanding. Now however, you are on the verge of tears, chocking down a knot in your throat as you try to make sense of anything coming out of Dr. Reid’s mouth. This has to be the third time he’d tried to explain it to you, and while this is the entire point of these meetings, you feel like a failure.
The doctor is lost in his own world, trying desperately to explain the concept in a digestible way, so he doesn’t notice your state. That is, until you sniffle, just slightly, and immediately avert your gaze.
He cuts himself off, “Y/n? Are, are you okay? What’s wrong.”
It’s too much, so too much. What kind of dick asks something like that, with that much care in his voice. You can’t help the tears starting to fall.
“I’m so sorry. I just, I can’t understand it.”
He looks at you with his beautiful eyes and says, “Y/n, it’s okay-“
“No. God, you must think I’m a fucking idiot. No, not fucking, I didn’t mean to say fuck in front of you. God this is terrible.”
You’re fully crying at this point, and you can’t bear to look at Dr. Reid.
He stays silent for a moment, before you feel movement on the couch and look up to see he is much closer to you.
“You’re incredibly intelligent, Y/n. I, I would never judge you for needing help.”
You bury your face in your palms, and, very eloquently, try to speak through them.
“Sir, you really don’t need to say that. I know I should have been able to grasp this weeks ago, all of this.”
“Spencer.”
You look up, “What?”
“My name is Spencer. You don’t have to call me sir or Dr. Reid. I’d like for you to call me Spencer.”
“Well, Spencer then. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I really don’t know why I thought any of this would help, clearly there’s something seriously wrong with-“
You’re cut off by a hand on your jaw, guiding you to look up. Dr. Reid’s hand. Spencer’s hand, and it’s gentle and he’s staring at you, and you feel like your skin is on fire underneath his palm.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/n. You’re one of the most capable, intelligent people I’ve ever met. I’m breaking nearly 20 different codes of contact by being here, but I can’t help it.”
You feel all your words caught in your throat, and all you can fucking think about is his hand and his eyes and his lips. You don’t know what else to do, so, in an act of unusual bravery, you push forward and press your lips to his.
The response is immediate. All thoughts in your head are gone and replaced by a mantra of Spencer’s name. You feel his hands move to the nape of your neck, holding you to him, and his lips pressing yours open so he can glide his tongue over yours. You’re breathless and ruined, and when he pulls back you’re too struck by him to speak.
“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before”
Your forehead is pressed to his and you breath out, “Show me.”
The hand on you tightens its grip, but the man before you pulls back a bit, and it becomes your only point of contact.
“I, I can’t. I’m your teacher, I’m nearly 20 years older than you. I shouldn’t have even kissed you.”
“I kissed you. I want you, this. I want whatever you’ll give me.”
“It’s wrong, Y/n.”
“I don’t care. I want you, Spencer.”
Hearing you say his name must break his resolve, because in a moment his lips find yours again, and he’s pulling you into his lap.
To recap, you’re in your home, on your couch, straddling the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and his lips are trailing down your neck and over your clavicle. You put your arms around his neck, threading your hands through his hair and experimentally rolling your hips against his.
His hands grab your hips, stilling your movement, and breaks from his assault on your neck to say, “I won’t be able to control myself if you do that, Y/n. I need to know what you want.”
“I want all of it, doctor.”
The honorific must do something for him, because he growls low in his throat before once again connecting with your lips. The same hands that just stilled your movement now guide your hips to press into him harder. You feel his length beneath you and moan into his mouth.
You’d fantasized about this for months, but now it’s actually happening and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined. You feel him every where, and he knows exactly what to do and whisper in your ear to drive you fucking crazy.
You move your hands from his hair and break from his lips to pull your shirt off. You make eye contact with him and then reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving that part of yourself entirely exposed to him.
“Fuck, Y/n.”
The expletive takes you by surprise for a moment, but you snap out of it quickly, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your chest. He moves quickly from that point, cupping your breast in his hand and toying with your nipple. Your lips find his again, and you feel him move to flip you, but you stop him before he can.
“Bedroom, Spencer. Please.”
He nods and you climb from his lap. On your way to the room, he discards his shirt. You can’t help but ogle his frame. He’s slender and sinewy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. The angles and curves of his frame fit
together to create the perfect portrait of a man. He has scars littered over his arms and torso, but they don’t phase you.
You’re under him on the bed now, your core raising to meet his desperately.
“You’re so beautiful. So beautiful, I’m so lucky.”
His words cause a blush to form on your cheeks, which you can barely focus on as his hands are in the process of pulling your shorts and panties down your legs.
“God, Y/n, you’re soaked.”
You whine as his fingers make contact with where you need him most.
“Is this all for me, Y/n? Tell me.”
“You. Only you.”
“Jesus, Y/n.”
If someone had asked hours ago you what you thought your professor would be like in bed, this was the last thing you would’ve said. Not that anyone would ask… but still. He’s nerdy and adorable, and while his looks are literally to die for, he doesn’t scream ‘I’m gonna fuck your brains out’.
His fingers pick up their pace on your clit as you find yourself trying to undo his belt. You’re desperate to see him as bare as you are. He stops to help you get his pants down, and when you see him in his full glory you feel a little faint.
“You’re so big.”
He lets a little whine slip through, “Yeah? Biggest you’ve had?”
You blush a little at his tone. As much as you’re trying to fake it, you don’t have as much experience in this field as one might expect for a girl your age.
“I’ve only been with one other person, so yeah.”
Your candor is decidedly not sexy, and you really have no clue why you would say that right now. The man above you does not seem deterred though, if anything it spurs him on.
“Fuck, Y/n. Didn’t know you were so innocent.”
You blush again, but reach to grab him, trying to prove how good you can be. He’s heavy in your hand, and part of you worries how he’ll fit. You know you’re programmed to accommodate, but the thought is daunting.
He must sense your concern when he says, “Don’t worry, love. Gonna stretch you out for me.”
With that, his fingers resume their previous task, and he slowly moves down to trace your entrance with his middle finger. The sensation has you spinning, and let breathless moans leave your body he slowly starts to open you up. His fingers are long and precise in their movements. Every time he thrusts into you, they graze a spot that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
“You’re doing so good for me, Y/n. So, so good for me.”
You can barely breathe, and your climax comes closer with every passing second. When his thumb moves to press over your clit and his other hand presses firmly on your lower stomach, you’re done for.
“Good girl, Y/n. Coming so pretty on my hand.”
Your orgasm is stupefying, and all you can think or say is Spencer’s name. You grab at him, desperate to find something to ground you, and you hear him moan as your nails dig into his back. He doesn’t stop for a moment, continuing to press into you and riding you through your high.
Once you come down, though you can still feel your legs shaking, you want more. You want all of him. You take him in your hand again, pumping up and down his shaft at a lazy pace.
“Spencer, I need you to fuck me.”
He laughs, his hand still on your core, “Ask nicely, Y/n. You come on my fingers and all of a sudden your manners disappear?“
You didn’t want to admit it, but he’s right.
“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me, I need it.”
“Good girl,” he takes your wrist and leads your hand to your mouth. “Spit.”
You aren’t exactly sure what he’s doing. You think he might be teasing you more, letting you work him over until you beg, but he answers all your questions quickly.
He guide your hand back to grab him, helping you jerk him off before he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance.
In his first Dr. Reid like moment in the last hour he stops and asks, “Fuck do you have a condom? I obviously didn’t think we’d do this, so I don’t have anything on me.”
You’re panting with anticipation at this point, but still manage to get out, “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I trust you.”
His eyes go soft for a moment, before he continues his previous mission. He lines up again with you, before teasing your slit with the head of his cock. If you didn’t want him so bad, you could’ve come like this, but you are desperate. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the point, and he does.
“I could play with you all day if you’d let me, Y/n.”
You want to protest, and tell him to get on with it, but you don’t have to. You feel his tip
slowly pushing into you as he lets out a groan.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
He’s slow and careful, and you can’t remember sex ever feeling this good. You know he isn’t all the way in, but you already feel so full. When he does reach the hilt, you let out a low moan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you, filling you in a way that is unbelievably good. He stays still for a moment before slowly pulling back and thrusting into you.
You can tell he’s being gentle, but hard enough and fast enough to have your legs start shaking more heavily again. You already feel a pit in your stomach, and you know you’re going to come, for a second time, embarrassingly fast.
“Fuck yes. So good for me, Y/n.”
The way your name sounds in his mouth drives you crazy. The only thing you can think about is how badly you want this moment to go on forever. Everything about him is perfect. Even now, while fucking your brains out (literally, you could make yourself say a word even if you wanted to), he’s cupping your head in his hand and telling you how beautiful you are.
Now that you’re more accustomed to the size of him, he takes your thigh, pushing it up to your chest, and starts too fuck into you faster and harder. His pelvis rubs over your clit with every thrust, driving you crazy. Your hands are in his hair and down his back, grabbing and clawing at him.
“You love taking this cock, huh baby? Can’t even talk, huh?”
His words go straight to your core, but you know what you need to come again. You guide his hand up near your sternum and manage to cry out a few words.
“Please, need it. Need you.”
He takes your request to heart and moves his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides. You feel yourself get light headed in the most incredible way. Tears are forming in your eyes. The feeling is so intense.
“So perfect for me. Such a smart girl and you’re just gonna let me fuck you dumb?”
You’re close, and you can feel the pit in your stomach start to spread and take over. Spencer’s hand on your throat tightens slightly, and it only take a few more thrusts before you’re coming on him.
“Coming. Fuck, Spence you’re making me come.”
“That’s right. Come all over me. Show me how good I make you feel.”
Your vision is going white at the edges and you feel like your whole body is shaking.
“Fuck, gonna come just watching you. Gotta pull out, baby.”
You grab him before he can, “No! Want it inside me.”
He groans above you and you feel his hips stutter.
“Fucking Jesus. Want me to fill you? Make this you mine?”
You nod, the tears now falling down the sides of your face.
“Gonna come, baby.”
You can feel when he does. His dick is pulsing in you, filling you completely, just like he said he would.
When he comes down, he pushes his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. For a while, he just lays there, kissing you.
“Gonna pull out now. Gotta clean you up.”
You whine, but nod regardless. You feel empty at the loss of him, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you feel a warm towel wipe around your centre.
“You gotta go pee, Y/n. Don’t want to develop a UTI.”
Five minutes ago this man was coming inside of you, and now he’s back to being the man who came to your house in the rain with tea. You do know he’s right though, so you pull yourself out of your bed on shaking legs and make your way to your bathroom.
When you come back in, you find Spencer with his pants back on. Your heart breaks a little.
In a small voice you ask, “Are you leaving?”
He looks up at you then, “Do you want me to stay?”
You don’t know why you wouldn’t.
“If you don’t want to you don’t have to.”
You can feel tears welling up again, but these are different from before; he notices immediately.
“Baby, baby don’t worry. I don’t want to go, I just didn’t want to over step.”
You laugh a little at that, wiping your eyes, “I think we’ve gotten over all the steps, Spencer. I, I want - Just please stay.”
He nods and moves to take off his pants before sliding into place next to you. His arm wraps around your waist and you feel a tingle in the spots where he touches you.
“I don’t want to have this be a one time thing,” you blurt out.
You feel him hold you a little tighter then.
“I was never planning that, Y/n. Now, sleep. We can talk about how much I’ve come to adore you tomorrow.”
END!! i hope you all love it!
tag list! (leave me comment if you want to join and i’ll add you): @sabage101
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Natural Breeding Clinic - Prologue
warnings: MDNI, breeding kinks, general sex, mention of infertility and insemination methods
a/n: It's here. Finally.
Teaser - Prologue - Patient 1
You take a deep breath and sit down in front of the laptop, waiting for the other person to join the call. Never in your life had you heard about such a unique reproductive center but lately, you’d been feeling the pull to start your own family. You’d discussed this with relevant people in your life. Everyone had said if you really wanted a child, then you should go with the options you thought were right for you.
You’d done the research, looking into different doctors and fertility clinics, but this one just stood out. There were testimonials from several happy families, saying their methods, though unconventional, were effective, and the doctors showcased on the website were all incredibly striking, each one handsome in their own way. But it was the success rate that caught your eye. A 98% guaranteed rate that you would be pregnant, and that pregnancy would be healthy. The site didn’t go into too much detail on their method, but the wording caught your eye.
“A natural breeding clinic” they’d called themselves. You’d finally bitten the bullet and called, requesting an information session. The screen suddenly lightens and you focus your attention as an attractive woman with shoulder-length brown hair comes into view. She smiles in a welcoming way before speaking.
“Hello. Am I speaking with Mrs. L/n?” You nod and smile back, trying not to look awkward or uncomfortable.
“Perfect! My name is Shoko Ieiri, I’m the main coordinating nurse here at Jujutsu Fertility. Thank you for scheduling an information session with us.”
“Yes, of course. I just needed more details before I booked an appointment.”
“Indeed.” Shoko claps her hands together before continuing. “Let me start by telling you a little bit about ourselves. We’ve been around for almost 6 years now. What sets us apart is that we focus more on women’s comfort than most other clinics. And we are sought out by people who are willing to use a sperm donor. We do not perform insemination services with sperm that are not from our own stock.”
“Your own stock? Are you associated with a sperm bank? And screen all the donors yourself?”
“Not a sperm bank in the conventional sense. We have 5 doctors who keep excellent health and their sperm is regularly screened to ensure quality. They are the only stock we allow for insemination.”
You blink to make sure you haven’t misheard. “The…doctors? Are you saying the fertility doctor I’d be meeting with will also be my sperm donor?”
“That is correct.” Shoko nods her head to confirm. “You will be meeting with the doctor of your choosing for at least 5 sessions. They will need to be at least once a week. Some women take the week off and come in 5 days straight.”
“5…sessions?” you ask, confused by the wording.
“Yes. It’s to ensure the insemination process has occurred an optimal number of times.”
“Wait…so…I’m going to be inseminated multiple times? How much downtime do I need in between each insemination?”
“Hardly any. Our method isn’t like a typical clinic. Most women leave feeling very normal and a lot more satisfied than when they came in.”
“Not like a typical clinic? So…you don’t use the catheter method?”
“We use minimal medical equipment in our inseminations.”
“Minimal…so what does the procedure entail?”
Shoko clears her throat and continues. “So it begins with you choosing one of our doctors. We highly recommend spending some time on this part. It’s essential that you feel attraction towards your doctor. Once you make a choice, they will reach out to discuss how your insemination experience can be optimized for you. You will receive a biodata on their sexual profile, their preferred methods of arousal, and other relevant details.”
“I’m sorry, but what?” You are at the edge of your seat wondering if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. Surely, this was all being made up? “Arousal, sexual profile- why would I need all these details? I thought sperm donors only gave information like height, weight, medical history and stuff like that.”
“Why wouldn’t they? You’re choosing to be bred by them. They would have to make sure their patient is satisfied with the experience.”
“Bred?” You bleat the word stupidly.
“Yes. We are a natural breeding clinic. We use the method nature has provided to us to ensure a pregnancy.”
The gears in your brain start turning and something finally clicks.
“Are-are you saying…I would be having sex with my doctor?”
“That is correct.” Shoko smiles gently at you, pleased that you have finally caught on.
“The human body doesn’t necessarily enjoy having medical equipment inserted into it. All that cold plastic, and the mechanical methods of insertion. It puts the body in a state of stress. Not good for implantation. So our doctors will inseminate you through the process of intercourse.”
Her words fall like a fog around you. You can feel your heart racing, a flush creeping into your cheeks. It was…insane. The doctor of your choosing was essentially going to fuck a baby into you. As your mind starts pulling up the images of their doctors, each one impossibly handsome and striking, you feel a familiar throb starting between your legs. Wetting your lips, you try to talk to continue with the information session.
“I see. And…there are benefits to this?”
“Yes. Intercourse allows the body to relax, releasing happy hormones. In this stress-free state, in addition to the knowledge that your doctor is someone you’re attracted to and trust, the chance of an implantation doubles.”
You gape at Shoko, your mind reeling from all the information.
“And…when you say the insemination process will be optimized for my best experience…?”
“The doctor you choose will ask you extensive questions about your preferences. What turns you on, positions, dislikes, toys. It’s to determine if they will satisfy your breeding experience. If they feel they might not be a good fit, they’ll recommend another one of our doctors.”
You swallow, your mouth going dry. “I see. And…what else do I need to know?”
“We will start by collecting your medical history and run some blood work to make sure your body is ready for an insemination process. Women who have a domestic partner will need to get both a waiver and a consent form signed by their partner that they have been informed what happens for the insemination.”
“Of course. Makes sense.”
“You will be assigned an emotional support companion during this process. It will either be myself or Mr. Ijichi Kiyotaka. We are there to help ease your nerves and ensure you enjoy the process. And all patients must think of a unique safeword to use during the insemination process.”
“Safeword?” you parrot back, still processing.
“Yes. At any point during the process, should you feel uncomfortable, your safeword ensures all actions cease and your doctor will give you some space to breathe and reassess the situation.”
All you can do is nod along. Shoko gives you a look of reassurance. “I can guarantee that most women are pleased with the results. And our doctors are quite skilled in what they do. It’s natural to feel a little shy and embarrassed but at the end of the day, we all share a common goal- a healthy baby.”
Despite your initial shock, you feel some of your trepidation fade away. Shoko continues.
“If you are ok with all of this, I can send you the forms to get the process started. Once those are filled, you can take some time to decide on your doctor. Then we’ll set up a call with them.”
“Thank you.” You make a split-second decision. “Please go ahead and send the forms.”
“Excellent. I’ll send them to the email you put in your inquiry. Was there anything else?”
You shake your head no. “I think I have all I need.”
“Great! I look forward to assisting you again.” Shoko ends the call and you immediately go the the website again to look at the doctors, one of which will end up fathering your child. Such a hard decision. How will you ever make the choice?
@thesunxwentblack @kentocalls @actuallysaiyan
@belle-oftheball34 @jesssicapaniagua
@figmentforms
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hello~! i’d like to request a scenario/hc for the l&ds men wherein they attend their toddler!daughter’s first ballet dance recital? i had this idea in my head and i thought it would be cute to see how supporitve and proud they’ll be~ thank you and have a great day ahead!!
Attending Your Daughter's Recital- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
a/n: hi anonnie! this was a cute idea they would be such cute dads im literally sobbing at the idea ;-; i hope you enjoy and have a great day too! <3
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
Xavier:
Your husband is always sleepy but the big day for your daughter's performance he was up and early. He would try to help with your daughter's hair but eventually it got tangled and messy so you had to excuse him and let you do all the work. Before you went to recital area, he would take you both to your daughter's favorite restaurant before she performs so she's full.
Your daughter would be really nervous performing but Xavier was always there to reassure her. His gentle words and encouragements helped calm any nerves and made the moment and their bond extra special. He would also bring her favorite plushie since birth to help calm her down before they went to the stage. He would also remind her that if they truly didn't want to perform then she didn't have too.
When your daughter does perform, he would have the biggest smile ever as he watches her gracefully dance across the stage. He would have his camera ready and only zoomed in on her.
After the performance, when your child runs to you both, he’ll lift them up into a warm, celebratory hug, showering them with compliments and expressing how incredibly proud he is of them for performing so bravely, despite their nerves.
Zayne:
He would cancel and move any appointments with his patients on the following day of his child's performance. Any checkups or surgeries would have to wait so he could be watch his little baby perform.
He would settle into the seat right next to you and chat while waiting for the curtains to open. When your child steps onto the stage, she'll scan the audience. When she sees you and Zayne, she'll be beaming with a smile. You and your child know how often Zayne would be busy due to his schedule but he always tries to find the time for you and your child. If he couldn't, he would always try to make up for it.
As he watches your child performs, he would be flooded with so much nostalgic memories. From the early days of ultrasound pictures to their first steps, first words, and now performing on a stage, each milestone has been a cherished memory for you both. His pride in your child is so profound that his usually stoic expression melts into a wide smile.
When the performance is over, your child would run up to you both giving you each a big hug. He would shower compliments to your daughter telling them they did so well and the outfit that you made for them is amazing. Would also have a bouquet of flowers ready for your child after the performance. When you guys get home, you both would prepare a dinner that your child's favorite to celebrate their beautiful performance.
Rafayel:
He could not be more excited to watch your little baby perform on the stage. He was the type of dad that would go to their practice and watch them perform. If he didn't get a chance to attend their practice then he would ask what new moves or what they learned at home. He would also learn the new moves with them just in case they forgot or so they don't feel embarrassed.
You and Rafayel would design their outfits and your daughter would literally have the most prettiest outfits compared to all the other girls.
You both would be front row and center so your child can see you both. He would have the biggest smile as you both watched your child dance across the stage. He would enthusiastically dance along in his seat, ready to offer a reassuring nod or subtle guidance if his child happened to forget any moves during their recital.
When the performance ended and your child ran to you both, he would scoop them up, spin them around, and shower them with kisses, all while expressing how incredibly proud he was of them. He would also take a million photos and videos before, during, and after the show.
Sylus:
The feared Onychinus leader appearing at his children's recital. He wouldn't dare to miss it! Yes he may be a leader but that can all be put aside for now because he will try to be there for his child whenever he can.
You and Sylus would be wearing matching outfits that your daughter has chosen for the both of you as a 'good luck' charm. Obviously how can he say no to you or your little baby? Whether that outfit is ridiculous or not, he'll still proudly show it off.
He would bring his daughter's uncles, Luke and Kieran to the recital. Luke, Kieran, and your daughter begged you both if they could come. They're the second biggest fans of your child, you and Sylus being the first. They both would cheer and clap the loudest to let them know that your child was the best one there.
When your child was finished performing, your child would run up to you both giving you a big hug and then her uncles a big hug. He would twirl your child around telling them how wonderful they look and how wonderful they performed before giving them a bouquet of flowers.
You all would go to your child's favorite restaurant, letting them order whatever they wanted. When you all go home you all watch the recorded videos that Sylus recorded so they can see how well they did and maybe they'll even perform an encore.
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace scenarios#lads x reader#lads x you#love and deepspace x you
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Movie Night with Diavolo and Barbatos
A self-indulgent fic (under the read more) inspired by the The Brothers' Hobbies Devilgram story.
SFW fluff, gender neutral reader, it's like 1.5k words long? I just threw together whatever because I wanted to imagine a cozy movie night.
Very few beings in either of the three realms ever got to witness Diavolo or Barbatos in their pajamas. You were the lucky soul who got to see both as they guided you through the castle for a special movie marathon night. Sweatpants and a loose robe were a nice change of pace from the usual stiff-collared uniforms Diavolo typically wore. He excited donned the dragon slippers you gifted him once. Barbatos had his matching owl slippers on under a slimmer, flowier set of pajamas with matching button-up top and bottoms. The fabric looked incredibly smooth, with not a single wrinkle.
The room they led you to was dimly lit. The curtains were drawn so that starlight couldn’t shine through the windows, in front of which were various stacks of DVDs as tall as you. A plush three-person couch had been placed right in the room’s center, squarely in front of a projector that took up an entire wall. In the back of the room closest to where you all entered was a table piled high with treats. Most of it was an approximation of human world movie snacks, but Barbatos had clearly done his best.
"Are those nachos?" You asked. "Pretzels and popcorn... That's so many toppings... M&Ms!? Really? Are those real?"
Barbatos chuckled. "Indeed. Seeing your face light up was worth all the effort to procure them. Please, take as much as you'd like."
Barbatos and Diavolo went to claim their seats on either side of the couch, but encouraged you to take your time with the food. Diavolo clutched a half dozen blockbuster movies in his hand.
“Will you get a plate for me too? I can’t decide what we should start with.” He hummed and hawed, turning each package over to read their summaries.
By the time you were ready, Diavolo had made a choice and loaded up the movie’s main menu. You carried the heaping plates over with enough food for everyone. They each offered to hold them while you sat down.
There was not a lot of room to sit. Despite seating three, Diavolo could have taken up half of the couch by himself and Barbatos was being unusually liberal with how much space he took up. They happily motioned for you to take a seat, Diavolo grinning like a kid.
You sandwiched yourself between them as best you could, wiggling until your back touched cushions. It felt awkward basically distributing your weight over the side of their laps, but neither one made any outward signs of acknowledgement. It was very warm between the two demons. With your thighs brushing those on either side of you, you could confirm their pajamas really were soft. It was incredibly cozy. They both smelled like a recent shower.
“Ready?” DIavolo asked once you were settled in with your plate. “I thought we’d start with an action film to really kick things off on a high note. Let’s begin!”
The bright film cast a gentle light over the three of you. Every time something exploded or a twist occurred, Diavolo would whoop and laugh. He was a very expressive movie watcher.
“This is rather delicious,” he commented in a low voice after cleaning his plate. Diavolo leaned into your ear, bumping your shoulder with his own.“Mind if I try some of yours?”
“Feel free. Barbatos, you too.” There was plenty left, not to mention the entire table of food. Every few minutes his highness would pluck a chip or handful of chocolates off your plate. You realized shortly before the credits that it should have run out already with the two of you constantly snacking. Was it refilling itself?
You turned to Barbatos. His eyes were already transfixed on you instead of the projector, as if you were the night’s main event. “Is something wrong?”
You pointed to the magic plate. “Are you doing this?”
He merely smiled, neither confirming or denying. You softly nudged him in the side in appreciation as he whispered, “if there’s anything you need, just ask.”
As the action flick finally ended, Diavolo leaned forward to browse through the other movies. “What shall we watch next? Romance? Comedy?” He asked as you took advantage of the extra space to stretch.
“I believe romance and comedy often go together, so we could watch both genres at once,” Barbatos said.
“Oh! What about this? It’s very famous, right?” Diavolo thrust an old horror movie at you. You’d heard the name before and vaguely knew its plot, but never actually saw it.
”Yeah, everyone in the human world knows that movie.”
“Then we’ll go with this!”
He loaded it up, while Barbatos sifted through the pile and pulled out a disk. “Let us put this romance comedy on standby.”
The horror movie was way scarier than you thought. Weren’t old films supposed to have cheesy graphics and a now-overdone plot? This was gory and dark. Barbatos and Diavolo were actually laughing at the chainsaw-wielding maniac on screen. “Hilarious! I thought the comedy was after this?” Diavolo exclaimed. You realized once again that demons were not normal.
You put on a brave face and powered through the movie, intent on not ruining their good time. But a particular jumpscare caught you off-guard, prompting a shriek as you shakily turned away from the movie. That turned all the attention on to you. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t mind me, just surprised me,” you stammered.
“Do you find this scary?” Diavolo asked. “This silly thing?”
Barbatos apologized, saying “I hadn’t considered this could be distressing for you. I’ll turn it off immediately.”
“No, it’s fine! We can keep watching,” you insisted while diverting your eyes from the scene on the screen.
Diavolo grabbed your hand. “Nothing could possibly hurt you when we’re here. Isn’t that right, Barbatos? Why, I dare say you’re with the two strongest men in the whole Devildom. We could stop a thousand of these murderous humans.” His lighthearted smile was reassuring as always as he belted out another laugh.
“Would it help if we held your hands?” Barbatos suggested. It was a childish recommendation, but tempting nonetheless. “We could even lock arms, and if the film becomes too much, you can rely on one of us to block it out for you.”
That sounded agreeable, and you approved of it just to get their attention back to the movie. You were thankful the two self-professed strongest demons in the realm would be so accommodating for you. Though embarrassing at first, it did help to bury your head in one of their sides any time things got too horrific.
Any time you jumped towards Diavolo, he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you in closer for a comforting side hug. He’d make small comments, “this actor is very good, does he have any other famous works? I wonder if they filmed this on a set,” so you could focus on the sound of his voice instead of the televised screams.
Any time you jumped towards Barbatos, he would cover your ears and bring your forehead against his chest. It helped to focus on the calm, steady beating of his heart until the scene ended. One hand would gently brush through your hair and down your back until you were composed again.
This film was thankfully shorter than the first one. As you excused yourself to the restroom, you heard Diavolo comment about how it was “too short,” with Barbatos agreeing it was “more fun than expected.” You hoped they really meant the movie, and not the way you acted.
Upon returning, Barbatos had prepared a large fluffy blanket.
“It’s getting quite late, and as you know the Devildom gets rather cold at night.”
You doubted you could get cold while wedged between these two on a sofa. Though, It did add to the movie viewing experience.
The third movie was, as expected, much lighter and more enjoyable. You could laugh along with them and at times explain aspects of human culture important to the plot.
“If she doesn’t want her ex to show up, why doesn’t she just cast a warding spell? Such an easy solution.”
“Humans usually can’t cast magic. Until I got here, I didn’t even know magic was real.”
”Oh! Right.”
Maybe it was all the food, or the addition of the blanket, or the overall coziness of the situation. Your eyelids were starting to get heavy and interest in the film was waning. “Hey, I know we’re only on the third movie, but how many of these are we watching tonight?”
Diavolo stared at you. “As many as we can! We have all those.” He gestured to the massive collection by the windows.
”My lord, some will have to wait until next week.”
“Right, but the night is still young!”
You were at a loss for words. It had been five hours so far. “I don’t… Uh… I’ll try my best, but like, I don’t know if I can stay up that long,” you admitted. Did these two ever even sleep? They were in pajamas, so maybe?
“That is a problem.” Barbatos seemed troubled, unable to think of a solution that didn’t involve delaying their schedule.
“Well, let’s just keep going,” Diavolo offered. “It can’t be helped if you’re tired, but we can still get through what we can. I greatly enjoy having you here! Both as a friend and to clarify what’s happening.” He ruffled your hair before turning his eyes back to the screen.
Before you realized it, you were waking up from a snug slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep, only that you guys had finished the romantic comedy and started on something sci-fi with robots.
On the screen now was a documentary about birds.
“Oh, awake now? This movie’s getting really good, I think you’ll like it.” You were more focused on how nonchalant Lord Diavolo was acting about being your pillow. You quickly and apologetically lifted your head from his lap.
Barbatos had apparently moved you into a more comfortable position while you slept, as the lower half of your body was in his lap as well. He helped you sit up, “careful not to fall now. But yes, this film is most fascinating. Can I get you anything? Some water?”
There were half a dozen questions running through your mind, but the first one out was “what time is it?”
“6:15am, nearly time for the Young Master to begin his day.”
DIavolo huffed. He couldn’t fight the looming workload he had to deal with, so he popped a potato chip into his mouth instead. Despite your insistence that you would sit normally, the two of them equally insisted you lay down and stay comfortable for the remainder of the documentary. It was peaceful.
When all was done, Barbatos procured everyone a change of clothes and started wrapping up the food table. First pick of leftovers went to you. “Would you like to take it all?” he asked.
“Don’t think I can finish all that, but Beel can help me.”
Diavolo went to change in the other room, but called out, “There's still so much we have to watch, and I'd like to go back over the ones you missed! What do you say, same plans for next week? Same day, same time?”
That sounded good to you.
---
(Thanks for reading!) (bonus pic I wanted to put in the text but didn't want to interrupt the story)
#obey me#obey me!#obey me x mc#obey me fanfic#omswd#omswd fanfic#obey me nightbringer#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me diavolo x you#diavolo x reader#barbatos x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#obey me barbatos x mc#obey me diavolo x mc#obey me fluff#obey me x reader#omswd diavolo#omswd barbatos#om! diavolo#om! barbatos#obey me fanfiction#obey me scenarios
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1987 Buick GNX
1987 Buick GNX: A Rare Muscle car That Showed How Awesome GM Could Still Be
Let's talk about one of the most iconic cars from the 1980s – the Buick GNX. This car wasn't just a vehicle; it was a statement, a powerhouse, and a collector's dream even when it was new.
Here's What Made It Special
Ultimate Performance: In 1987, the GNX stood at the pinnacle of Buick’s turbocharged lineup. Its 3.8L V6 engine, enhanced with a Garrett T3 turbocharger and a larger intercooler, produced a formidable 276 horsepower and 360 lb-ft of torque. Those were BIG numbers for the time.
Limited Edition: Buick produced only 547 GNX units, each transformed by ASC McLaren Performance Technologies.
It Wasn't Just a Hopped-Up Engine: The GNX included numerous performance upgrades like a reprogrammed engine management system, a performance suspension with a torque bar, and a unique GNX rear differential cover.
It Was Lightning Fast: This car could rocket from 0 to 60 MPH in under five seconds and complete a quarter-mile in just over 13 seconds, making it one of the fastest cars of its time, and capable of running with the Big Block Muscle cars of the late 60's.
It Looked Cool: The GNX had a menacing exterior with vented fenders, a lack of hood and fender emblems, and 16-inch aluminum mesh wheels with blacked-out faces and GNX center caps.
The Car Pictured Here is an Unrestored Gem: GNX number 155 of the 547 built remains unrestored with an incredibly low 12 miles on its odometer, showcasing its pristine condition. Still, too bad nobody has ever really got to enjoy driving it.
Luxurious Interior: This GNX featured a six-way power adjustable driver's seat, GNX-badged front carpet savers, and a special instrumentation package, making the interior as impressive as its performance.
Rare Documentation: It includes the ASC McLaren GNX window sticker, listing all the unique features that made it a Grand National Experimental.
It's a Sought-After Collector Car: With its unmatched performance, limited production, and unique features, the GNX has become a highly sought-after collectible in the classic car world.
The Buick GNX wasn't just another car; it was a high-performance marvel that left a lasting legacy in automotive history.
When it comes to the grand national the GNX is the holy grail
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could you write something about attending Caitlins game and sitting courtside and her dedicating each shot to you
All For You . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: caitlin dedicates all her shots to you <3
you’ve always attended your girlfriends games, only missing a rare few. watching her out on the court in her element made you feel so proud, you wouldn’t miss that feeling for the world. you constantly reminded her how amazing she was, on and off the court. that she was the most amazing player you’ve ever seen.
and she’d blush, hiding her face in your neck all while thanking you for coming to the game. ‘as if i’d voluntarily miss it’ you’d reply. she would tell you how much it actually meant to her, that you’d show up every time. just for her.
“i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you” is what she’d say, pressed up against you in bed after each game, running her fingers up and down your supple skin. “i hope you know that”
you’d shake your head, telling her no. because, to you, it was all her. the endless practices, the meltdowns of frustration that motivated her to keep going. that was all her doing, you were just here to support her.
caitlin understood that, yes, she’s put in a lot of hard work. but she couldn’t figure out why you would think you didn’t play a part in all this. if you weren’t there court-side every night, if you didn’t calm her down when she was frustrated, if you didn’t clean her up and nurse her back to health when she pushed it too far? she wouldn’t have all these titles and awards nor all the praise and attention.
so she took it upon herself to make you understand how much you truly have done for her.
she pledged to herself that every shot she took from this point forward, was devoted to you. caitlin had always kept you in mind when she scored, but every shot to her was just to get ahead. in reality, she discovered, she was really shooting for you. and she needed to show you that. you needed to understand that you were always on her mind, whether that be outside of the court or not.
it was a friday night, iowa was playing against lsu, and you were getting ready to leave the apartment. caitlin had left earlier in the afternoon for practice and warmups, and you let her know you’d be rooting for her somewhere in the crowd, just like you always did.
before you could make it to your front door, hands not even on the handle, your phone vibrated. pulling the phone out of your back pocket, a text from caitlin caught your eye.
cait <3: keep your eyes on me tonight, ok? want you to see something.
your brows furrowed slightly in confusion. what was she planning?
you: i always do, what are you up to this time?
cait <3: just trust me ;)
you chuckled to yourself, she was trouble.
you quickly realized you were late after being momentarily distracted by your girlfriend. snatching your bag and shoving your phone back into its pocket, you were out the door and headed to the arena.
they were just beginning introductions for the teams as you made your way to your seat. close enough to the floor that you could be easily spotted by your girl, but enough back that you weren’t front and center. the lights to the arena dimmed, colorful lights flashing and speakers booming as they called your girlfriends name. you watched as she stood from her seat and waltzed out onto the floor. she was glowing, hearing how her fans chanted her name as she hyped up the crowd. it warmed your heart to see her this happy.
before you knew it, the game was starting up. sneakers squeaked against polished wood as the girls defended the ball against lsu. they attempted a shot, missing it as caitlin rebounded the ball. she was slick on the court, gliding right past the opponents, dribbling the ball with ease. your eyes never left her figure like you were told.
you watched as she made it across the court. an lsu player, you have to admit, was doing an incredible job guarding her. but caitlin did what she does best. taking a large step back, almost to half court, caitlin took a deep shot against her defender. the entire crowd watched as the ball flew in the air, swishing straight through the net effortlessly. everyone erupted with chanting and applause, she was remarkable.
after her shot drained into the hoop, she turned to where you sat in the audience. you watched her closely, still clapping for her. she found you in an instant, locking eyes with you. she smiled and raised her hands, forming a heart with her fingers. she held in close to her chest then pointed to you, indicating that she made the shot for you. she mouthed a quick ‘for you’ to you up in the stands before catching up to her team on the other side of the arena. a flustered smile spread across your face as you watched her.
just when you thought she couldn’t get any better as a girlfriend or an athlete in general, here she was, dedicating shots to you.
as the game progressed and as iowa held onto a massive lead, caitlin kept blowing everyone away with her incredible shots. and each time, when the ball went through the net, caitlin isolated you from the crowd to make the same heart gesture. it was like clockwork and you’ll be honest, you never got tired of it. it made your heart swell to think that she was making those shots just for you.
once the clock buzzed and the game ended, you waited for the crowd to fizzle out before making your way down to the locker room. after each game you would wait on a small bench in the hall just outside and wait for caitlin to meet you. this night was no exception. you were perched on the bench, legs bouncing with anticipation to see your girl.
minutes went by until you heard the doors open with a click. your head snapped in its direction to see caitlin meandering over to you, an exhausted smile on her face.
“baby!” you cheered, running over to her and hugging her tightly “you were amazing as always, i’m so so so proud of you, cait!”
you pulled away from the hug and looked up to take in her appearance. she always looked so beautiful to you, no matter the sweat or grime or exhaustion. she was a work of art.
“thanks, babe” she leaned down to place a sweet kiss upon your lips.
“always” you pulled her in deeper as your arms draped around the back of her neck.
“how’d you like my new signature move?” you could feel her smile as she mumbled against your lips.
“oh my god” you laughed “i loved it, cait you definitely don’t have to do that for me!”
“the hell i don’t” she teased “i say it time and time again, you’re the reason i’m where i’m at today. the least i could do is dedicate my shots to you. it’s all for you.”
you could probably cry right there. the fact that she thought so highly of you, just for being her support, made you feel so special. caitlin had to be the most selfless person you’d ever met.
“i’m so lucky to have you” you said, hands falling down to her biceps where they gave a gentle squeeze “i love you so much, cait”
“i love you too” she replied “thank you for being with me through all this, i’m the one who’s lucky”
that night, you followed tradition. caitlin pressed up against you, the warmth of her skin soaking into your bare back. sheets draped over the two of you and your legs intertwined. her fingers skimmed over your arm, making you shiver. she whispered against the shell of your ear how much she loved you and reminding you once again that she wouldn’t be here without you. and while you still believed she didn’t give herself enough credit, you couldn’t help but smile when she reminded you just how much she loves you.
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okay i need an lando x reader now after p3 in qatar where he is finally happy again and the reader is the first who is there for him after the race.
Me when i have requests dating back all the way to last September! 😟
Look How Amazing You Are (LN4)
Summary: After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.
Warnings: references to q*t*r qual*fy*ng l*ndo (i sobbed for him that weekend), language, references to lando beating himself up (verbally not physically lol), talks of a marriage proposal
“AND IN COMES LANDO NORRIS! THE MAN STARTING AT P10 ONLY TO FINISH THIS RACE IN P3, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL RACE FOR NORRIS!” The man screamed into the microphone as Lando zipped by in his favorite papaya car.
Y/n, tears in her eyes, flashed back to the night before as she stared at the TV in the McLaren Garage, her boyfriend finishing better than he had anticipated. He had cried in her arms as they sat on the hotel bed as she tried to remind him of all the accomplishments he had made so far in the 2023 season. He had argued with her, telling her none of that meant shit if he continued to screw up as he did in qualifying and she had countered back, fighting against the verbal abuse he was putting himself through.
To say the least, she was scared for this race. She knew if he finished poorly, he would’ve been destroyed. It was concerning slightly when she genuinely took a look at how much Lando put his self-worth into racing, knowing one wrong move and he was so incredibly heartbroken. She hated to see him get angry with himself over something so minuscule in the grand scheme of things. So, as she watched him rise above everything he had gone through the day before and finish on a podium, she was on the verge of crying.
Jon pushed through the people in the garage, making his way to Y/n and smiling widely at her, giddy over the boy’s achievement.
“Come on, Y/n! You can see him when he pulls up at the podium if we leave right now!” He grabbed her hand, dragging her out to the outside and down the pitlane to reach the big podium.
“Jon! I never go to the gates!” She laughed as he continued pulling her throughout the masses.
All he did was look back at her with a dismissive glance, “He’s going to want you to be there after everything that’s happened this weekend!”
They reached the mass of papaya colored engineers and Jon pulled her throughout them, pushing them and apologizing, before shoving her in the front and center of the group. Just as he got his phone out, hitting record on his camera and knowing he was about to capture something that would have fangirls swooning, Lando began slipping out of the seat in his car.
A flash of green helmet invaded her vision as Lando began sprinting toward the group, his visor up and eyes wrinkled with a smile hiding beneath the protective gear.
“I DID IT, Y/N!” He screamed over all the whooping and hollering, falling into her arms as he giggled with joy.
She smiled back just as excited for him, “YOU DID, LAN! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”
Hands and arms from the engineers surrounded them, patting Lando’s back and congratulating him on his finish. Jon stood next to the couple, still recording and elated for Lando.
When the boy pulled back, his eyes bore into his girlfriend’s as she grabbed ahold of his helmet and said, “Before you go up there, can you please repeat after me?”
He cocked his head, nodding nonetheless.
She shook his head lightly, “You are amazing and no bad qualifying defines how amazing you are.”
She could see the blush that riddled his cheeks as he continued to nod at her.
“That’s not repeating!” She exclaimed, looking at him sternly but both knowing how much of her love was held in the moment.
“I’m amazing and no qualifying defines how amazing I am.” He said begrudgingly, still smiling at her from behind his green helmet.
She grabbed ahold of their interlocked hands and kissed the back of his, “Thank you. I love you so much.”
He hugged her once more, “I love you too. Thank you.”
Jon ended the video just as Lando skipped off to the podium, leaning towards Y/n and showing her his phone.
“Aww, Jon, can you send that to me?” She asked, hearing Lando’s voice played back as he repeated her words back to her.
He nodded, “Already done.”
—
“Thank you.” Lando whispered into the quietness of the night as Y/n laid on his chest, her hair sprawled out on the pillow on the side she was supposed to be one. Although, Lando had pulled her into him the moment they hit the mattress, telling her she would not be sleeping on her side of the bed at all that night.
Y/n turned her head, her chin propped against his chest so she could look at him, “For what?”
He stared at the ceiling, “For being there for me through it all. I was a mess last night and you still sat with me, tried to talk me out of everything I was feeling. Then, today you celebrated the podium with me, reminding me of how wrong my words were last night. I just-” He peered down at her, “I love you so much and I’m so grateful to have you.”
She smiled, “Lan, you’re so sweet. I love you too and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what it’s for.”
He nodded, “I know. Doesn’t mean I still can’t tell you how rare it is to have what I have, which is you.”
The darkness of the room masked her red cheeks, “Well, that’s very nice of you.”
She rested her head back down, hearing his heart beat faster than usual, “Why’s your heart going crazy?”
He laughed, “I think because I just realized I’m ready to start planning a proposal.”
Her mouth fell open and she sat up, “For marriage?!”
He got up, sitting next to her and nodding, “Yes, is that too soon for you?”
“No,” She said without hesitation.
“Good,” He gave, lying back down and pulling her with him.
His heart still beat quite quickly as she listened to it, and her body filled with warmth. Maybe that was because Lando was just warm or the fact that he just told her they would be getting engaged soon, she didn’t know. A mix of both, she thought.
“You’re about to make so many young girls mad.” Y/n joked, eyeing her left ring finger and imaging a band around it.
Lando just chuckled and shook his head, “As long as I make you happy, I think I’m good. Happy wife, happy life, and all that.”
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris fic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris edit#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris x you
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If I may request for gooey wan:
After reading the snippet about Rex' reaction, I'm just curious how different groups of people react to the craziness of Obi-Wan's powers and how unfazed the 212th is.
How does his powers act when they're on shore leave and he and Cody go to Dex's for lunch.
Anyway keep up the amazing writing, can't wait for the next part of the loud!au it's so good ❤️
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a child-like voice sings and Fives tries to become one with the wall immediately.
“You cannot run! You cannot hide!” The following giggling turns up the goosebumps on his arms to the max, and he indulges in a shiver.
“I hate horror holos,” he whispers to himself before switching on internal comms. “Weren’t we supposed to be inconspicuous about this?”
“Change of plans,” Rex tells him from somewhere on the northern side of the command center. “He’s stopping them from calling reinforcements.”
The child-voice suddenly shrieks in glee and Fives’ goosebumps reach new heights. “Found you!”
“Squad Esk, change position to point 5-7-Krenth,” Commander Cody orders over comms, and, naturally, they haul ass.
Squatting down on the gangway opens up quite the view in the bubble of disturbing silence that apparently surrounds General Kenobi when he does his thing.
It’s a void of nothingness. Not actually harmful to living beings, though the sparking droids let Fives theorize that some electronics don’t have much to buffer against whatever the General… exudes. Pardon his Coruscanti.
The enemy commander scrambles against the wall, trying to get away from Kenobi who’s standing still in front of them. The black smoke is thick, covering the entire floor and crawling up the corners nearby.
The enemy is caught up in the General’s look, the Galaxy black holes that are rumored to hide behind the pleasant smile.
Fives clicks his knee guard against the gangway just to break the suffocating silence but no sound rises up.
The enemy collapses to their knees and Kenobi steps back. Not physically but his sheer presence seems to decrease in intensity. Fives clicks his kneeguard again and this time, the sound is allowed to reach his ears.
“Cody,” Kenobi says quietly, “the hostages are about to be transported off planet. I don’t know from which port.”
“On it,” Commander Cody answers and immediately barks orders over comms to shut down all spaceports.
“Do you surrender,” Kenobi asks, still quiet. Tired.
Fives feels his brow furrow involuntarily.
“Yes,” the enemy replies, pale and shaking under the General’s gaze. “Please…”
And that’s how Fives’ first joint mission ends. Not with a bang but goosebumps that fail to disappear for a few good hours afterwards.
.
“It’s been rough for him,” Cody admits, absently swirling the straw through the milkshake Dex put in front of him the moment he fell into a seat at the counter like all his strings had been cut. “He’s overcompensating for the time he hid from me— us who he is.”
Dex mulls over that for a moment. Long enough the Commander glances up at him. “He’s a dumbass,” he settles on, the diplomatic route. “Always has been.”
Cody snorts, takes a sip. “I talked to him, of course,” he says, flaps his hand before scratching at the prominent scar on his forehead. “He competently ignored me to the point I benched him.” Cody shakes his head, wide eyes on the milkshake. “That was incredibly stressful.”
The diner is empty at this time of night. Quiet and reserved for all types of encounters; from distressed clone commanders to their smokey nightmare Jedi.
Dex studies Cody for a moment, weighing the possibilities what a man like that could need the most at the moment. “Grab the mop. We’re cleaning the kitchen.”
.
“—and then he looks at you with those big eyes and you’re supposed to say no? How?” Cody hauls the bucket out of the sink, black sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “While he tells you once again about boundaries and all the important aspects of choice, and due diligence of command.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” Dex says drily, scrubbing at a medium stubborn stain on the durasteel work counter.
“I am aware, thanks,” Cody sneers and Dex hides his laugh in the spritz of grease remover. “I want to be unaware of that but that stage has passed right to anger.” He wrings out the mop with what Dex would describe as thirst for vengeance. “Maybe I can un-love him,” he murmurs to himself like on the verge of epiphany. “What stage is that?”
“Bargaining,” Dex replies, crosses two of his arms while another still scrubs at the stain. “Those are the five stages of grief by the way. You’re falling in love.”
“Isn’t that the same in the end?” Cody mutters which is certainly food for thought.
“The first time I met Obi-Wan,” Dex starts and the Commander’s incredible attention is focused on him like a laser. It’s intimidating even for someone like Dex. “He got stuck in the darkness in the back alley.”
“Sounds just like him.”
It had been right out of a horror holo.
:
The alley behind the diner had always been a quiet place on Coruscant.
Dex let the trash bag fall into the dumpster but no sound came forward.
It had never been this quiet and dark.
He tapped on the ground with a foot. Nothing. Flicked his fingers against a drainpipe.
Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” a young voice said from the dark, right behind his shoulder, and Dex jumped. “I don’t know how to stop it.”
He spun around, squinted into the unnatural dark.
A soft sniffle from above and he looked up and into blue glowing eyes. “I’m sorry.”
.
Smoke rushed past him, howling and shrieking in the distance. Two of his hands were clamped around a small waist while the child and he tried their best to separate smoke from the darkness.
“I really am trying to corporeal my sense of self,” the child defended himself and Dex could only imagine the kinds of accusations thrown his way.
“Don’t worry about.” They’d been trying to untangle the child from the side of the building for close to twenty minutes with no progress at all. “You’re like a sticky womp rat,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
The offense taken was a bit too hilarious. Dex grinned up at the kid. “You don’t know what a sticky womp rat is? The slime toy? You throw it to the ceiling and it sticks.”
“A slime—!”
And just like that they both fell to the ground. Dex’s back would never forgive him.
.
“I trapped someone in their nightmares,” the young Jedi confessed, shoulders hunched up.
“Did you do it on purpose?” Dex asked, whisking hot milk into the custard.
“At first,” was the murmured reply, and Dex was surprised. The child didn’t seem the type. “I was so angry with Bruck.”
“You let them go?”
“As soon as I could.”
Dex turned around, watched Obi-Wan wipe at his eyes with the smoky sleeves. “Which wasn’t fast enough, I’m guessing,” he said, placed with custard bowl in front of the child.
“There’s no one like me at the Order,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I want to help, not be the cause for pain.”
:
“He took it to the extreme,” Dex says, remembers the instances too close in time where Obi-Wan visited him, looking more and more human and less and less like himself. “He put his nature into a box and forgot about it.”
“His compartmentalization is top tier,” Cody murmurs, close to awe.
Dex facepalms. “Not the point.”
Cody takes another dozen plates to the designated cupboard. “After the incident,” and Dex can hear the suppressed capitalization of the word, “he was like a newborn. Stumbling and helpless.”
“Must’ve been a nightmare.” He remembers the chill, the feeling of being hunted.
“No one slept a wink the first week,” Cody laughs, sobers. “It was like the ship was haunted by ourselves. He apologized so much. Wasn’t easy.”
Dex can only imagine.
Cody looks up, makes sure of the eye contact, and Dex doesn’t do him the disservice of looking away. “He had helped us so much. So we stepped up and helped him.”
Obi-Wan is one unlucky son of a blaster but he earns the loyalty given to him.
.
“Thank you, Dex,” Obi-Wan said, eyes glowing blue. Small claws clinked against the empty bowl.
Dex nodded, ruffled ginger hair. “Anytime, young Jedi. Your ride is here.”
I know, was whispered into his ear and he shivered.
Obi-Wan blushed. “Sorry.” Hopped down from the seat and into the care of the Jedi, visibly sagging with relief, coming through the diner door.
There was a small black blob on the floor. Dex wiped it away without second thought.
Cold, cold, alone. Strangling suffocating he knows—
“I know what you did and your victims will be more forgiving that I am.”
Cold. He runs. Runs runs runs—
.
“You two should come in together next time,” Dex suggests, shakes off the memory.
Cody smiles at him.
:
“I am the hungry.” Obi-Wan’s eyes rush into black. He takes a step forward, flickers. “I am the anyone. I am the everywhere.” The void spreads, consumes. “I hunt your nightmares until I become them.”
“See,” a voice whispers into Cody’s head, “deep down, deep down, they’re all like that.”
Cody nods, stands up straight. “Blast him.”
The 212th turns as one, fires. Fires and fires until the smoke screams.
“Good soldier,” the voice says.
Cody wakes.
.
The next day ARC trooper Fives is declared a traitor.
#goo! on the negotiator#star wars#codywan#obi wan kenobi#commander cody#creature!obi wan#obi-wan’s eyes are inspired by husky eyes#my art#frostbitebakery art#thank you Nonny!! sorry that it took a bit
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE PRE-SEASON TESTING
fandom. formula one & mcu
about. it's pre-season testing time!
content warnings. smau & written parts, written in 3rd person & lowercase, not edited & proofread
word count. 1.1k
notes. we're dipping into the season, slowly but surely... this took me some time to finish, i literally didn't know what to write for testing ://
"we are here in bahrain, pre-season testing for all teams in 2025, welcome everyone!" croft greets the whole world, as live footage is shown across the devices. the camera spans over the whole track, to each individual paddock until stopping at the final one, in blinding white.
"the season is starting with a bang, for the first time in formula one, we will see a stark owned team on the track! in white and chrome they are, an iconic design and everyone is eager to see what the stark manufactured cars can do!"
"how right you are, david! welcome, i'm will buxton and i have someone of interest with me here. right here, in front of the stark racing garage- y/n stark, number 95, one of the drivers for stark racing. so, y/n, tell me, how are you feeling? are you ready for the first time in the car?"
"hello will, thank you for having me. well, it's not quite the first time in the car, we had a testing back in miami at the end of january, but it's something different to be officially here now. but i'm feeling confident- we have our data, the predicted numbers and we think we'll be able to achieve them."
"so, no major upgrades or changes planned?" y/n shakes her head with a grin.
"do you really think i'm going to answer that question? ask me again, when we're done." will laughs at that, nodding his head in understanding.
"understandable, but i will hold you onto that! gonna knock on the garage doors three days later." y/n laughs again, head thrown back. "but, y/n, how does it feel to be on the paddock? have you met the rest of the drivers yet? made any new friendships?"
"well..."
"can you turn that off?", carlos gruffly asks his teammate, who just waves his hand at him as answer. with a groan, he stares at the tv, showing the first driver interview of the day, y/n stark. her voice washes over him, empty answers of being excited to properly meet everyone and maybe even bond with a few drivers.
"i don't know why you're so obsessed, perceval." charles immediatly splutters, waving his hands to deny the accusation.
"i'm not! but it's so interesting! tony stark is literally here, aren't you at least a bit excited? arthur said that y/n is like him!"
"what, arrogant? self-centered?"
"carlos! stop being so negative! i meant like- a genius! someone who raced with her back in f3 is friends with arthur, i forgot his name, but apparently y/n constantly does calculations while she drives. that's why she's so good overtaking." carlos just sighs and leaves charles to whatever he's doing right now. he has no interest in this circus.
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—
kevin watches the interviews from the sideline, completely satisfied with how everyone is hounding y/n and leaving him in peace. of course he had his fair amount of questions and interviews, but much less than his teammate.
it has been a whirlwind, ever since he joined the team. strange, for a while, everything seeming so futuristic, but now his glasses feel like a another part of his race suit he's putting on every day.
the team has been welcoming, open to his input, but it's very clear to him that y/n is their star driver and he's the support. and he's alright with it. of course, winning a championship would mean everything, but he knows he's not going to continue this forever. especially not when he has a kid, he's missing so much... something he dislikes, because family means everything to him.
this is why his contract is only for two years. if he wishes to continue and his results at the end of the season are steady, tony promised him a seat as long he wishes for. he is incredibly thankful for this offer, fully knowing that this kind of support doesn't exist in formula one.
"ready to go?", he asks, after y/n's press officer ushers her out of the mob called journalists.
"so ready to go", she grins. but they're not alone, the netflix camera's immediately surround them and capture their walk to the garage. people part from them, staring openly at the drivers. one of the most iconic footage later shown in the drive to survive documentary.
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—
"so, here he goes, kevin magnussen for stark racing, leaving his side of the garage. the car is looking incredible, i really like the color!", comments crofty and the other men immediately begin to chatter as well. throwing in rumors and hearsay about the team, they expertly fill the silence of kevin doing his first lap on the track.
"last to leave the garage and on the track, all eyes are on stark racing- oh and there he goes, picking up the speed!"
"his tyres seem to have warmed up- woah! look at the smoothness! kevin seems to be home in his car, his struggles from the last season are nowhere to be seen", adds jenson, while the cameras continue to follow the white car with the number 20.
"and there he goes! on medium tyres, setting the third fastest lap already, this looks definitely promising." will shares his own thoughts, reminding the viewers that there is definitely a possibility of stark racing going at least one or two seconds faster.
"by the looks of it, the stark racing team seems to be satisfied- honestly can't tell much, the glasses are hiding too much", jokes another man and all of them laugh. "bloody starks, am i right?"
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—
the testing days are filled with endless laps and data, followed by long hours of debrief. they've already proven that they're fast, slotting themselves on the upper half of the grid, sticking close to the more experienced teams.
speculations are thrown around, is stark racing sandbagging? of course they must be, while others think that this is the best they can do. neither of the drivers or the team principal lose a word on it, instead they repeat always the same statements.
"we delivered what we predicted."
"we tested our theories, confirmed or debunked them, so the past three days have been very productive."
"we're exactly there where we want to be and we know our next steps."
empty words and yet the journalists pounce on them as if they're the next headlines. the whole world watches with eagerness as stark racing finishes up their debut in formula one and they impatiently await the first race of the season.
taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!
ARKHAM MAID 2024
#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 female driver#female driver#fem!driver#f1 fanfic#kevin magnussen x reader#— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track#— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations
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we will never go back
final chapter of the great war:)
ona x reader? alessia x reader? who knows.
"Less?" You asked, dumbfounded.
"Hi." She responded, looking so unsure, so broken that you weren't quite sure what to do. All you knew was that you couldn't stand it when Alessia looked like that, no matter what had happened. Your brain was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out why Alessia was at your front door.
"Alessia... what are you doing here?"
"I- I really need to talk to you lov- y/n." Less flinched at the slip up, hoping you'd missed it. You hadn't. You felt like you were being torn in two- the part of you that loved Alessia, that would probably always love her, wanted to hear her out. The other part, the hurt part, was screaming at you to slam the door in her face. You'd always been weak when it came to her; you should have told her to go home. That would have probably been the healthy choice.
Someone cleared their throat behind you. It sounded like Mapi, but you remembered exactly who was sitting in your living room. Ona. Until this very moment, you could have sworn you were over Alessia, truly. Now, though, you stood in the doorway, physically stuck in between two people that you were suddenly sure you loved.
You forced yourself to turn, to look into Ona's warm eyes. They were blinking at you, terrified. The second you looked at Ona, it was clear what you needed to do. There wasn't a choice. How could there be?
"Let me get my keys. We can go for a drive." You said, turning back to the blonde. Relief washed over her face, and she nodded. "Just give me a sec?"
You unlocked the car, and Less headed over to it, as you briefly shut the door, turning back to the room full of your completely stunned friends. Ona was sitting on the couch next to Alexia, who was staring at you like she might hit you. Mapi's face looked similar, and you wished that this was not happening in front of them.
You walked to Ona, briskly, leaning down and grabbing her face in between your hands. She looked startled, but you pressed your lips to hers, intending to leave her with no doubt in her mind of what you were leaving to do. You only pulled back slightly when you broke the kiss, looking intently into her eyes.
"I'll be right back, okay?"
'Okay," she responded breathlessly. Mapi wolf whistled as you walked back towards the front door, and you paused just long enough to flip her off. You weren't quite sure what to expect walking opening the door and sliding into the drivers seat. Alessia didn't look like herself, and you could see her hands shaking in her lap. Starting the car, you turned to her, giving her a reassuring smile.
"It's just me, Less. Relax." With that, you pulled back out of the parking space, driving off into the foggy night air.
-----
You decided to let Alessia talk first; there was clearly a lot on her mind. So, even as the silence killed you, you allowed it to fill the car. It was suffocating, and you only felt relief when you pulled the car into a spot by the beach, overlooking the ocean.
"I'm so, so sorry." Alessia started. Her voice was already choked up, and she wiped roughly at her eyes. "Fuck, I said I wasn't going to cry."
Wordlessly, you handed her a tissue from the center console. She tried her eyes, taking a shuddery breath, before turning back to you.
"I can't express how sorry I am for what I did. There is no excuse, y/n. I know that. I just... I think you deserve an explanation. If you want one." The blonde looked at you hopefully. You nodded for her to proceed.
"I wasn't doing well. Moving to Arsenal, to London was so much harder than I expected. It's incredible and I love the team and the girls, it was just... change. And it was really hard. I was having a really hard time. Especially coming back from losing the world cup final, I was really just a complete mess. And you were here, in Barcelona, and you seemed like you were doing well. Really well, honestly. I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I should have just talked to you, but I didn't."
Alessia took a sip of water, her hands still shaking as she held the bottle. You'd never seen her look so nervous before.
"I missed you. I missed being with you and getting to spend those months together in Australia got me so used to just having you nearby. And then you weren't, and I was so lonely. I know that I could have called you, I know. Instead, I got really drunk. And went home with this random girl. I don't know why I did it, y/n. I just- I remember feeling so empty, so completely alone. I asked her to come back with me. I think about that sentence leaving my mouth every day, and I wish I could take it back."
Alessia is crying now, tears falling freely down her face. You're crying to, but not for the reason Alessia thinks. Seeing her in such pain, even now, felt like getting stabbed.
"I woke up the next morning, and I was so completely horrified with myself. I couldn't believe what I'd done. It wasn't fair of me. You are so good, y/n, you were always so good to me. Even now, when I have no right to ask you to listen, you listen anyway, and you hand me tissues, and I just. I never deserved you. And you deserved better than what I gave you. I'll be sorry for the rest of my life."
You watched her cry into her hands for a minute, and searched within yourself for the hurt that had lodged itself directly in your heart when Alessia had told you what she'd done, all those months ago. You couldn't find it. It was gone, you realized. Replaced with the feeling of falling in love. It was like snow melting, flower buds sprouting from the ground; the emergence of spring from winter. You knew you'd survived the worst of it, and you felt peace. Hope.
"I forgive you, Alessia." You said the words quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped up to stare at you, eyes red and puffy, mouth gaping open.
"What?" She asked incredulously.
"I forgive you. I know you. I know your heart. You're a good person." Alessia shook her head at this, looking miserable. "No, Less, you are a good person. One mistake doesn't change that. What you did... obviously it really hurt me. I knew that you wouldn't ever do what you did if you weren't really in a dark place. The past months I've been hurt, and angry, yes. I'm not anymore. All I feel now- I just want you to be okay."
"How can you say that I'm a good person?" Alessia asked, her voice cracking over the last word.
"Because you are. I forgive you, Alessia. You need to forgive yourself."
"I don't know if I can."
"Look what you did today. You came here, flew to Barcelona on your one weekend off, to apologize to me. That is something that a bad person wouldn't bother with. The feeling of guilt inside of you, Less, that's what makes you good. And I'm sure it's suffocating. You don't need to hold it over yourself anymore. I'm okay, Less. You don't need to feel guilty anymore."
At this, Alessia broke completely, caving in on herself as sobs racked her body. You leaned across the center console, pulling her into you as best you could. She cried for a while, letting out sounds that sounded like she was breaking. You knew this was healing, though. Sometimes, you need to fall apart all the way, or you'll never get put back together correctly.
After a couple minutes, she pulled away, wiping at her face once again. Her touch was more gentle, though. You hoped it was an unconscious sign that she was forgiving herself. The blonde turned to look at you. Her blue eyes were watery, her blonde hair slighly mussed from where it had been pressed against your sweatshirt. She looked beautiful, something you knew objectively.
Looking into her eyes, you didn't feel anything romantic for her. The urge to kiss her, to wipe her tears gently off her face, to cradle her in your arms, wasn't there. You loved her, but not in the way you had before. You wanted Alessia to heal, to stay your friend. At that moment, though, all you wanted to was to go home to Ona. Your Ona.
"Do you think, if I hadn't done what I did, we could have lasted?"
"No." You said gently, despite the harshness of your answer. "I don't think we were meant to be, Less. We weren't working before you slept with her." You noticed the way she slumped at that, just a little, and you knew that her motivations for coming to Spain weren't completely innocent.
"You're going to find someone who makes you feel like you're on fire, Alessia. Like your whole being is just completely filled with love for them. You'll know when you do. And you'll deserve all of the love they'll give you."
"You sound like you know what you're talking about." She commented, smiling softly at you in the way she always did when she joked. It was a relief, to see her look happy.
"I do." You told her, a matching grin tugging at your lips.
"Ona?" She asked, taking you by surprise.
"How did you know?" You questioned, eyebrows raising comically high on your forehead.
"They streamed your match on the plane and I watched you turn into the Hulk when that girl touched her. I didn't know if you were together, but I figured you would be, at some point." Alessia admitted.
"I'm sorry, Less. I know that isn't what you wanted to hear."
Alessia shook her head. "No, you're right. We weren't working. We wouldn't have worked. It was comfortable, and safe, but it wouldn't have worked. I had to try, though."
Alessia paused, eyes searching yours. "Ona is good for you. A good match. She's always kind. She'll remind you to be kind to yourself. You forget, sometimes."
"Thank you, Lessi."
You exchanged smiles, then, the first that were completely unweighted, completely genuine. You were glad Alessia had come, that you could have this conversation with her. Your body longed for Ona, though, your arms desperate to wrap her in a hug, squash any lingering anxiety she was feeling.
-----
You pulled back into your driveway, alone. You'd dropped Alessia at Keira and Lucy's instructing her to rest there, before flying back to London. You knew they'd take good care of her, and you had other priorities. You noticed as you walked into the house, that Alexia's car was gone, which was odd.
You continued on, slipping in through the door, sliding your shoes off, and turning to the living room. Only Ingrid and Mapi sat in there; Mapi with an expression of extreme guilt on her face. Ona was gone, as was Alexia.
"Where is she?" You asked frantically, eyes searching the room like you were going to find your girlfriend hidden behind a couch cushion.
"She left. A little after you did. I don't really know, she just asked Alexia to take her home, and we tried to talk to her, but she just kept saying she wanted to go home."
"Why, why didn't you stop her?"
"We tried, but..."
"But what, León?" You shouted. Ingrid looked between the two of you nervously, but stayed silent.
"I- I asked Ona if she thought you were going to get back together with Alessia. I guess, after you kissed her, she wasn't nervous, but then I asked, and she realized it could have been a goodbye kiss or something, and she just freaked out."
You stood frozen, body trembling with anger. Mapi stood, moving closer to you. "Amiga, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-" she began.
You lurched forward, hands connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards. She simply let you, not raising a single hand in her own defense. Ingrid stood from the couch, moving to get in between the two of you, but Mapi shook her head at her girlfriend.
"Mapi what the fuck? Why would you say that to her?" You were yelling now, right in your teammate's face. She looked distraught; you knew how much she cared for you, and for Ona. She was probably just trying to prepare her, be a good friend. You didn't care about any of that now. You shoved her once more, ignoring Ingrid's hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you away from her girlfriend.
You whipped around, charging towards the door, but Ingrid was faster, ripping your keys out of your hand. You rounded on her, but her calm expression made you pause.
"Breathe. I'll drive you. You're in no state to get behind the wheel. Come on." Ingrid said reasonably. You looked down at your trembling hands, feeling the unsteadiness in your legs, and realized she was right. You agreed, and Ingrid led you out the door towards her car. After a minute, you heard the front door shut, and saw Mapi standing awkwardly on the porch. You felt a pang of guilt for how you'd acted.
"Get in." You called, as you threw yourself into the passenger seat. Mapi practically bounded towards the car, eyes wide as she slid into the backseat.
"Amiga,"
"We'll talk about it later." Mapi fell silent, as did you. The car remained uneasily quiet as you drove to Ona's place. You called her, more than once, and got no answer. You were flying out of the car the minute Ingrid pulled up, racing towards your girlfriend's door. You probably should have knocked, but you couldn't stand another minute without Ona knowing, being completely sure, that you loved her. You wanted her.
You threw open the door, and marched inside. Alexia and Ona were frozen on the couch. Ona was practically collapsed into Alexia's arms, tears streaming down her face, as Alexia looked helplessly at you. if you had to take a wild guess, it would be that Alexia was trying to convince Ona that you weren't going to break up with her and take Alessia back, and that it wasn't working very well.
"Oni," you said softly, feeling an indescribable pain ripple through you at the sigh of tears on her face. You closed the gap between the two of you, taking Ale's spot on the couch. She moved towards the door, stopping when she was next to Mapi and Ingrid, who were watching on. You wanted to tell them to fuck off, and go somewhere else, but your attention was completely focused on Ona's agonized face in front of yours.
"Oni, baby," you whispered, tilting her chin up, and forcing her to make eye contact with you. You couldn't help but lean in, lightly kissing her cheek. She pushed you away, though, moving far away from you on the couch.
"No, stop. Stop kissing me when you are going to break up with me," she cried.
"I am not breaking up with you, Ona. Not today, not ever. Come here, please." You begged. Tentatively, Ona moved back over, until she was just close enough for you to grip her hand in yours. "Oni, I love you. I spoke with Alessia for closure, for both of us. I was not ever, ever going to get back together with her. I love Alessia, as a friend. What I feel for her, what I felt for her, does not compare to what I feel for you. Ona, you are it for me. It's been a few months, and I know that already. You are the only one I want."
Ona blinked at you, bottom lip trembling. "You are not getting back together with her?" She asked, almost in disbelief.
"No."
"You- you are not.. going to..." Ona stumbled over her words, her deep voice so unsure, so vulnerable.
"The only place I'm going, Ona, is wherever you go. I love you." You figured if you said it enough times, it would have to sink in. Evidently, you were right, because Ona surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around you as she cried into your neck. "I've got you, my love. I'm yours." You whispered.
"Te amo más que a nada," the brunette responded, words a warm exhale on your neck. They were just for you, not for the girls watching from the doorway, where Ingrid was discreetly trying to wipe a tear away. Your skin was wet with her tears, and she clung to you so tightly it almost hurt. You didn't care. If this was what she needed, you'd stay here forever.
-----
It was hours later, both of you curled up in Ona's bed, when you asked Ona something that had been on your mind.
"Why did you think I would get back with her?" You asked, the words mumbled into her hair.
"When I saw you guys together in Manchester, you seemed so happy. I just thought you would want that again, if you could have it."
"I am one hundred times happier now than I was then, Oni. I've never been as happy as I am when I'm with you."
"That is what Alexia said. And Ingrid. And Mapi, but she was following up on her question of whether I thought you were going to take Alessia back, so I did not really believe her." Ona laughed.
You chuckled. "I almost hit her when she told me what she said."
Ona turned her head on your chest to look up at you. "Two in one day? What stopped you?"
"I knew she was just trying to look out for you." You replied, not meeting Ona's eyes.
"I mean, she was. But I do not believe you. You were scared of Ingrid, yes?"
You threw your head back on the pillow sighing loudly. "Fine! She was mad at Mapi too, but she never would have let me punching her girlfriend go unpunished." You both laughed. Ingrid could be stern, and scary, but the thought of her retaliating was comical.
Your phone rang, then, and you picked it up, seeing Alexia's name and contact picture on your screen. You rolled your eyes. "They're obsessed with us. Cannot leave us along."
"Always have to be in our business, hearing our sickening love confessions," Ona agreed, smirking at you.
You picked up anyway. "Hola, Ale."
"Have you seen twitter?" She asked.
"No. Do you even have twitter, Capi?"
"No, Olga does. You fighting with that girl who fouled Ona is everywhere. You two are the new rumor. It's everywhere, I don't know how you missed it."
"We've been busy." Ona called, and you stifled a laugh as Alexia made retching noise over the phone.
"No! Por favor, no. You are my children, seeing you kiss is bad enough, I do not need to hear this." Alexia complained.
You and Ona cracked up. "Thanks for calling and telling us, Ale."
"Of course. I'll see you guys tomorrow for recovery."
"We'll try to make it, we might still be busy." You teased, seeing Ona blush next to you.
"NO! Basta! I do not want to hear this. You will be at recovery on time, and if I see one mark on either of you, I will throw up."
You laughed your way through goodbyes, before hanging up and opening twitter. Your timeline was covered in different videos and angles of you losing it on the girl that had tackled Ona. People had, clearly, figured out what was going on.
"I feel bad for the Luna stans." You said.
"I feel bad for the ones that think I am in a throuple with Keira and Lucy." Ona replied.
You pulled Ona back on top to straddle you, pressing your lips to hers in a sweet kiss. "Everyone knows now. Any regrets?"
"None. You look hot with a black eye, anyway. You should get them more often."
"Keep calling me hot, and I'll punch myself in the face every morning." Ona dropped her head on your chest, laughing into your skin.
"I love you." She said, leaning up to press her forehead to yours. The mood wasn't joking anymore, it was suddenly intimate, emotional.
"I love you too. Más que nada." You whispered against her lips.
"Más que nada." Ona agreed.
More than anything; anything and anyone that could get in the way. You loved Ona more than all of it.
-----
fin :)
hope the ending was what everyone was hoping for!
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"Shooting for the Stars, Falling for You"
ONE SHOT
Reader × Kim Mingyu
Genre : fluff , Romence
You stood in front of your closet, carefully selecting a cute white casual dress. Today was special, and you wanted everything to be perfect. The dress was simple yet elegant, with delicate lace detailing and a soft flow that accentuated your movements. You put in a little extra effort, adding a touch of makeup to highlight your features and pulling your hair back into a loose, effortless style.
As you gave yourself one last look in the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile. “This is it,” you whispered to your reflection, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. “Today is going to be amazing.”
Stepping out of your house, the morning sun greeted you warmly. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers, adding to the sense of anticipation that filled you. The short walk to the college campus felt different today, every step echoing the excitement of the day ahead.
As you entered the campus, the familiar sights and sounds of college life surrounded you. Groups of students chatted animatedly, while others hurried to their classes, the air buzzing with energy. But today, all you could think about was Mingyu and the basketball ball match.
You made your way through the bustling courtyard, feeling the occasional gaze of passersby. You caught a few appreciative glances, which made your cheeks flush slightly, but you kept your focus. Today was all about Mingyu.
Just as you reached the center of the courtyard, you heard a familiar voice call your name. Turning around, you saw one of your friends waving at you with a curious look on her face. “Wow, you look amazing! What’s the occasion?”
You laughed softly, feeling a bit shy. “Thanks! I’m actually going to watch Mingyu’s basketball ball match later today. He invited me.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “No way! That’s so exciting! Mingyu, the senior? You two are dating now?”
You nodded, your smile growing. “Yeah, we just started. Today is our first official day as a couple.”
She beamed at you, her excitement infectious. “That’s so cute! You two are going to be great together. Have fun at the match, and cheer him on for all of us!”
“Thanks, I will!” you replied, waving goodbye as you continued on your way.
As you approached the gymnasium, the noise level rose, the sounds of excited chatter and cheers filling the air. You felt a surge of nervous excitement. The basketball ball court was already full, with students eager to watch the match. You scanned the crowd, hoping to find a good spot when you noticed someone waving at you.
It was one of Mingyu's friends, a tall guy with a friendly smile. He waved you over enthusiastically. “Hey, over here! Sister-in-law, this way!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the teasing tone in his voice. As you made your way through the crowd, he continued to gesture, making sure you found your way to the reserved seat. “We saved this seat just for you. Hope you enjoy the match!”
“Thank you so much!” you replied, feeling grateful and a bit shy. You took your seat, settling in as the anticipation in the gym grew.
You glanced around and noticed the sea of spectators. There were quite a few girls holding posters with Mingyu’s name and picture on them, cheering enthusiastically. The realization struck you with a jolt – Mingyu was not just any senior; he was immensely popular. And yet, he had chosen to pursue you.
You looked down at your hands, feeling a mix of pride and amazement. The fact that someone as admired as Mingyu had gone out of his way to win your heart made you feel incredibly special.
The anticipation in the air was palpable as the final moments before the game ticked away. The players began to enter the court one by one, the crowd's cheers growing louder with each new arrival.Your heart raced as you waited for Mingyu to make his entrance.
And then, there he was. Mingyu stepped onto the court, his presence instantly commanding attention. His eyes scanned the crowd, and the moment he spotted you, his entire face lit up. His gaze was intense, those glittery eyes locked onto yours, unable to look away. You felt a rush of warmth and pride. His bright smile was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
He waved at you, a gesture full of joy and excitement. You waved back, your heart swelling with happiness. Seeing him so happy made you feel even more confident about being there for him.
The referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. The players took their positions, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. The ball was tossed into the air, and the match began with a flurry of movement.
From the very first play, Mingyu's skill and athleticism were evident. He moved with a combination of speed and grace, effortlessly dodging defenders and making quick passes to his teammates. His movements were fluid and precise, each action showcasing his deep understanding of the game.
As the point guard, Mingyu had a commanding presence on the court. He dribbled the ball with ease, his eyes always scanning for opportunities. In one swift move, he faked out an opposing player, spun around, and made a perfect pass to a teammate, who scored a clean three-pointer. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you felt a surge of pride.
“Mingyu’s on fire today!” one of his friends shouted, clapping enthusiastically.
You nodded in agreement, your eyes never leaving him. “He really is amazing.”
Throughout the game, Mingyu’s leadership shone brightly. He orchestrated plays with precision, directing his teammates with confident gestures and shouts. When he had the ball, he was unstoppable. At one point, he made a daring drive to the basket, weaving through defenders and finishing with a powerful dunk that left the crowd roaring in approval.
His defense was just as impressive. He blocked shots with perfect timing, his height and athleticism giving him an edge over his opponents. He intercepted passes, turning defense into offense in the blink of an eye.
Every play he made seemed to energize his team and the crowd.You watched in awe as he continued to dominate the game. Each time he scored or made a brilliant play, he would glance your way, his eyes seeking your approval.
The final whistle blew, marking the end of an exhilarating game. Mingyu's team had won, and the gymnasium erupted in applause and cheers. You stood up, clapping enthusiastically, your heart swelling with pride and joy. Mingyu’s eyes found yours amidst the crowd, and you locked gazes. With a beaming smile, you mouthed, “Congratulations.”
From across the court, Mingyu smiled back, his expression softening with a blend of happiness and gratitude. “Thank you,” he mouthed, his eyes sparkling.
The court quickly filled with teammates and students, all eager to congratulate the players. Mingyu was at the center of it all, receiving pats on the back and enthusiastic handshakes. Despite the chaos around him, you could tell he was looking for an escape.
Just then, one of his friends approached him, puzzled. “Where are you going, Mingyu? Aren’t you waiting for the trophy ceremony?”
Mingyu glanced at his friend, then looked over at you, standing a bit apart from the crowd. With a mischievous grin, he pointed in your direction. “Oh, the trophy? My trophy is right over there.”
His friend followed his gaze and chuckled, clapping Mingyu on the back. “Go get her, champ.”
Mingyu didn’t need any more encouragement. He made his way through the throng of well-wishers, his eyes never leaving yours. As he approached, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade, and it felt like it was just the two of you in that moment. “Congratulations, Mingyu,” you said warmly, your voice filled with pride.“Thanks,”
he replied, his smile lighting up his face. “ ummm I guess you are my lucky charm , I’m so glad you were here. It meant a lot to me.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you said, feeling a rush of affection for him.
Before either of you could say anything more, the announcement for the trophy ceremony came over the loudspeaker, reminding everyone of the official celebrations still to come. Mingyu glanced towards the stage, then back at you.
“I guess I should go get the trophy,” he said reluctantly. “But stay close, okay? I want to share this moment with you.”
“I’ll be right here,” you assured him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.With a final smile, Mingyu made his way to the stage with his team, who were eagerly awaiting the presentation. The ceremony was a blur of applause, speeches, and flashing cameras, but through it all, Mingyu kept looking your way, his smile never fading.
When he finally received the trophy, he held it up triumphantly, the crowd cheering loudly. But as he descended from the stage, trophy in hand, he headed straight for you. He stopped in front of you, holding out the trophy.
“This is for us,” he said softly, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch the trophy. “I’m so proud of you, Mingyu. You were incredible.”
He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you. “No, we’re incredible. Together.”
As the celebrations started to wind down and the crowd began to disperse, Mingyu turned to you with a playful glint in his eye.
“So, how about we go on that date now?”You giggled, feeling a wave of excitement wash over you. “I’d love that.”
“Great! Let’s get out of here,” he said, taking your hand and leading you away from the bustling gymnasium.
As you both made your way out of the gymnasium, the cool evening air greeted you, a welcome contrast to the heated energy of the court. You and Mingyu walked hand in hand, the world around you seeming to fade as you focused on each other.
The campus, usually bustling with students, was quieter now, the only sounds being your soft footsteps and the occasional distant chatter. Mingyu squeezed your hand gently, drawing your attention.
“I feel like I’ve won two trophies today,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “One for winning the game, and another for winning your heart.”
His words made your heart skip a beat. He brought your hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss on it. The simple, affectionate gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt your cheeks flush.
“Mingyu,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “you’re making me blush.”
He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Good, because I’m blushing too.”
For extra feel do listen to song ! Hehe
Author note Idea just pop up in my mind so thought of writing it. Hope you guys like it ! if you like it please do repost and drop your review ✨
Thank you ! 💘
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hi! i saw you were opening your requests so here i am :) i was wondering if you write an emily/reader smut with reader having a hand/glove kink and getting turned on everytime emily puts on gloves at a crime scene
feel free to throw any other kinks you want in there, we love a dom emily in this house :)
no pressure or anything, have a good time ^^
Indulged Imprints || Emily Prentiss x reader
CW: Emily Prentiss x reader, sexual tension in places where there shouldn’t be, god this woman is so hot, smut, oral sex, choking, hand/glove kink,
Climbing out of the passenger seat of one of the team’s black SUVs, you followed Emily into the crime lab. She had already assigned the team to different locations—the station,the victim’s house, etc.—opting to keep you by her side. You walked a few steps behind her, standing with your hands stiff in front of you. It was a common sign of your nerves around your girlfriend whenever you saw her acting as unit chief. The intimidating woman introducing herself as SSA Prentiss to one of the lab examiners with a stern glance appeared as an imposter to the same woman that you spent weekends watching rom-coms with.
The examiner pointed Emily down the hallway toward the lab with the correct evidence she was looking for and turned to leave, leaving her to do her job in peace. She had fallen into a laser focus ever since you got on the jet. Over at the sink, she slid stacks of silver rings off her fingers, leaving them on the steel counter, and she scrubbed her hands and slid on a pair of gloves.
As soon as you were both ready, you nudged open the door, holding it open as Emily slid past you and headed straight for the boxes of processed evidence. She delicately removed the contaminated household items first, then removed the folders of pictures and laid them out across the table. She had become incredibly efficient in her methods over the years, taking in the entire crime in a matter of minutes and then going back to catch crucial things that others often missed.
You went straight to work on your job, removing all the collected papers that had been considered possibly relevant for their handwriting and, one by one, sliding them under a lens. SInking into your own work, you had tuned out Emily’s soft shuffling around the room and shallow breathing until she cleared her throat. You looked up to find her still crouched over a pile of images, but she curled her finger, silently calling you over.
“There’s something off. The guy’s got a glock, a quick weapon, efficient, no need to get up close and personal with his victims… So why take the risk to go all the way up to them?” She paused, adjusting your shoulders and taking a few steps away to put herself in the unsub’s shoes. “And wrap their hands around her throat, if they already had a simple way to get in and out.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Emily brought her hands up to your neck while her eyes ran down your body. You tried to focus on the fact that she was simply trying to do her job and not the way her flexed lines in her hands stretched through her gloves as her fingers curled around your throat. Emily caught onto your horrifically obvious flushed face and momentarily forgot the task at hand. A smirk spread across her face, and she slid her hands higher up, brushing her knuckle across the skin just below your ear. You remained still, trying to remain calm, but your shaky breaths gave you away, clear to Emily, who was inches away from you. You could see the center of her eye dilating at your flustered state before she reluctantly dropped her hands. As she returned them to her side, they brushed ever so slightly against the curve of your breast and down the side of your waist that you could’ve brushed it off as a mistake if you didn’t know your girlfriend as well as you did.
She popped her lips, quickly breaking the thick silence between you, and hurriedly began to clean up the lab space. “Come on, we’re down for the day. Let’s head back to the hotel.” She was quick to rush out of there, and you blindly followed. Stopping at the sink, she shoved her rings in her purse. You were going to comment, as it was out of character for her. She wore her rings everywhere, no matter what kind of rush she was usually in.
Climbing back into the car, Emily naturally took the driver’s seat. She was unable to keep her hands off you for the duration of the three-minute car ride back to the hotel. Her hand rested dangerously high on your inner thigh, rubbing circles into your skin through the fabric of your pants. It became clear then why she had been so impatient and left her rings off her fingers on the way out; she was desperate to have them inside you.
You crashed into the thin hotel wall by Emily’s hand before the door even clicked shut behind the two of you. Her hands ravenously roamed your body. She tugged you forward by the loop of your belt, slipping her hands underneath the hem of your pants. Her hot breath blew across your skin as she pressed desperate kisses along your collarbones. You could feel a devilish smirk form on her lips against the skin of her neck as she expertly maneuvered her fingers, undoing your buttons. She slid your clothes down to your ankles, dragging her hands down your thighs as she did so. You kicked them onto the floor while undoing her blouse.
She always wore her necklaces tucked under the collar of her blouse, and your eyes trailed down the chains to where pendants had nestled themselves into her breasts, cupped in a lacy black bra. One strap rested off her shoulder and you had no trouble tugging it the rest of the way off. You pressed the tip of your tongue to your teeth, admiringly taking in your beautiful girlfriend as she slowly led you to the bed before pressing you back onto the mattress.
Climbing over you, she straddled her legs, pinning your hips between her thighs. She swiped her tongue with a smile, wetting her lips, and combed her hair out of her face with her hands. Placing her hands on either side of your head, she tipped her chin, attaching her lips to your neck. She was painting your neck a mix of colors, from the harsh desperation of her lips to the light nip of her teeth, with marks that would only reveal themselves tomorrow morning. When your mouths fused together, you were met with a faint, familiar taste of coffee and fruit.
Emily took her hands, attentively brushing or groping every space of exposed skin on her prolonged dip down to between your legs. She arched her back, the curve of her spine appearing to you from behind her head of mused raven black hair. Grasping your ankles, she lifted them over her shoulders, crossing them behind her neck. Her nails scraped down the sides of your back. She unexpectedly grabbed at the flesh of your ass, causing your hips to jolt upwards. She has landed you right where she wanted, and with a soft tip of her head, she ravenously dove into your cunt. All the exhaustion from the day's work floated from her body and mind as she lapped at your arousal like she was starving. Her fingers drew crescents into your hips, and, in succession, the soft whimpers falling from your mouth were fuel that went straight to her head. Spurred on, she flattened her tongue against your clit, overwhelming the bundle of nerves that displayed itself as a breathy moan. Your hands flew up off the mattress, tangling themselves in Emily’s hair.
With her mouth expertly enough to pleasure you on its own, Emily’s hands were free to slide up toward your neck. Your legs quivered ever so slightly, but were still, of course, something Emily quickly picked up on. She vigorously continued her actions, drawing you nearer to the edge.
Distracted by the rising feeling of an upcoming orgasm, you were dazedly surprised when Emily’s fingers lightly drummed against your neck before she closed them around. Naturally, you attempted to inhale with a gasp, only to be met with constriction by her flexed hands. Your head rushed with warmth, and your body grew tense. Small stars dotted your vision, and the smell of Emily’s perfume became suddenly prominent as bliss engulfed your body.
With a deep breath, your vision and clear head started to return, and you felt the carefully positioned weight of Emily on your torso. Looking down, you brushed a fallen piece of hair off her forehead, revealing her glossy and softly gazing eyes. Her pupils were dilated as she looked up at you with a slightly silly smile on her lips. Rolling off you, she crawled up to the top of the bed, pressing herself into you as you both breathed steadily slower into the silence.
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Who is your OC that is the most fleshed out? Anything you care to share about them? What is a small detail about them that you rarely think about?
*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.*
YOU TRICKED ME INTO WRITING AGAIN
BÁTARD!
There is an old rotting seat in the middle of the woods where a young man appears to lay dead. His face is pale, his skin is tinted with mildew, his old wool coat is moth-eaten and moldy. A layer of topsoil covers his lap. His hair, slowly greening, has been plucked at by birds.
A long time ago, a man won a single wish, and knowing that wealth was fleeting and power brought danger, wished for incredible knowledge.
The wish granted him understanding of machinery, of magics, of medicine and physics, and insight into endless possibility. So much information that he cannot stop thinking, making connections, processing it all, struggling to grasp it.
Always thinking, he found soon that he could not fall asleep. Medicines helped for a short while, but he was never truly rested, and through desperation or happenstance he found with some horror that he also could not die.
The story is that a point came where he brought upon himself some sort of curse, to sleep, and to dream, and to never be disturbed.
Excepting, of course, under very specific circumstance.
Not everyone can see him, but those who do have affectionately named him "Alexander".
(He is more or less a landmark, like an oddly-shaped rock by the side of the road.)
Nevaeh is The Daedalus. She has no idea what that means. She has never gotten lost, no matter how far she's wandered.
Her bus always arrives at the stop shortly after she does. When she rides her bike, there is never a roadblock or construction in the way. She isn't always on schedule, but even when she's late, she seems to arrive on time.
She loves her parents. She likes to bake. Her sister is a dork, but they get along fine. Life is good- things are normal.
(Things are not normal.)
Jessie's name is not Jessie.
Probably.
Jessie gives different people different names.
Nobody's quite sure if they're human or a fairy of some kind, but they seem to show up everywhere and never seem particularly fazed by what's going on.
They always seem to be upbeat and unconcerned, but not in an uncaring sort of way- it's more like they just have this unshakeable confidence that everything is always going to end up fine.
Jessie is at the party, holding the host's cat. Nobody knows who invited them. Nobody knows anyone who knows them that well. Jessie offers you a corn chip.
Jessie is at the town hall meeting, sitting in the back row with their feet resting on the chair in front of them. They don't ask questions or interject, but seem interested as they snack on rainbow kettle corn.
Jessie is at the sacrificial ceremony, deep in the bowels of the community rec center. As candles flicker around you and the sound of chanting voices grow closer, they tuck a hard candy into your pocket and tell you not to worry so much.
(Jessie does not untie you from the dias.)
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None of these guys are my main character, but they're probably my favorites!!! Thank you so much for asking, I need to get back to work on this! ♡♡♡♡♡ oh, I'm all excited again!!! Aadfgghhfjgdgsggffk ❤
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BABYGIRL, jake 'hangman' seresin
summary: in which hangman and his babygirl go on a wild ride with an unplanned pregnancy and finally admitting their feelings for each other and figuring out life in general as new parents
warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness, christmas themed even though it's march!, ex boyfriend meets new boyfriend and it's not pretty. rooster becomes a cowboy, babygirl gets hurt.
okay so this isn't incredibly long but it's the final part of the christmas trip! the next few parts will be getting ready or baby and maybe a wedding??
series masterlist here, series playlist here
PART FIVE: technicalities
The drive back to the ranch was a quiet affair, the cab of the truck filled with a tension that had tears welling in your eyes. You don’t say a word, unsure of what would even help calm the situation down, your mind reeling as your eyes locked on the busted knuckles of Jake’s right hand clenching the steering wheel so tightly that the skin around the abrasion was turning white. Dalton had gotten mouthy toward you in the presence of Jake, Bradley was telling him what he had called you right before he told him to leave. He didn’t take kindly to anyone disrespecting a woman in general, but when it came to you it was even worse. He had lost his composure. He punched him full force right in front of you, your hands had flown to your face in shock as Bradley jumped in to separate them once he realized Dalton was stupid enough to get up off the floor and square up, getting right in Jake’s face.
You pout as you feel a flutter in your belly, your hand going to it almost protectively as Jake turns down the bumpy driveway of the ranch, going faster than he probably ought too. You bite your lip anxiously as he pulls to a stop in the driveway, noticing your Daddy’s truck parked off to the side.
“Stay, please..” His voice is soft, his hand gentle as he puts it over yours to stop you from opening the door. When you turn to look at him his face is pensive, something you’re not used to. “Just for a moment.”
“I’ll just..” Rooster doesn’t even finish what he’s saying, jumping out of the truck before Jake can stop him too and rushing inside, rubbing his shoulder as he goes. It had given a loud pop as he practically body checked Jake backwards from Dalton, trying to keep them from all out brawling in the middle of the living room.
The truck is silent once more, and for a moment you don’t even look at him, unsure of what to even say, or do. Part of you wonders if he’s upset with you, part of you is upset with him.. But a bigger part is worried about his damn hand. You turn in your seat having unbuckled your seatbelt and are about to ask him if it’s okay when he beats you to it.
“I’m so sorry you saw me like that, babygirl..” He says, his eyes watery as he looks at you and it nearly breaks your damn heart. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of you..I shouldn’t have lost it like that..you could have gotten hurt..” His hand shakily rests on your belly, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb.
“Jake, baby..” You sigh, climbing over the center console as best as you can with a round belly, and settling into his lap, damning the steering wheel pressing into your back. “I should be the one that’s apologizing..it’s my fault that he was acting like that..I should have figured he would have shown up..s’my fault your hand is all busted..” You pull it off of your belly and bring it to your lips, giving a gentle kiss to the wound as the man gives you a stern look.
“Y/N Y/M/N, do not ever apologize to me for things that you cannot control, do you hear me?” Your eyes widen, he hadn’t called you by your real name in so long that you honestly weren’t even sure that he knew it..tears well in your eyes at his words, your lips quivering as you nod.
“Okay.” You say, fighting back the tears.
“Oh, honey, no, no babygirl, don’t cry-” You see the panic in his eyes now as he brings a hand up to wipe the tears. You shake your head, a hand gripping his wrist as you lean into his touch. “I didn’t mean to-”
“S’just the hormones.” You sniffle, your quivering lips turning into a smile. It must look a sight because he lets out a chuckle. “It was kind of hot watching you defend my honor though.”
He laughs this time, that smile that makes your knees wobbly on his face.. “Babygirl, I will defend your honor any damn time you need.” He says, his tumb rubbing against the skin of your cheek as your smile becomes less emotional. “Ready to go inside?”
You nod. “I’m hungry.” The mexican food had gotten scattered across the floor in the scuffle, the biggest loss of the whole encounter in your opinion. You could care less about being called a whore, your damn food was on the floor!
Your father has an absolute field day at the dinner table after everyone had said grace, when Jake tells him that he’d gotten into a fight with Dalton. Telling him that he had called you a whore, your father’s face turned red with rage and you thought he was going to go hunt down the man and give a good whats what.
“It’s okay, Daddy..” You say, squeezing his weathered hand. He squeezes it back and seems to relax as you bring a forkful of mashed potatoes to your mouth. “Honestly, I’m not even upset about that..it’s not like he hasn’t called me the name before..” You shovel another bite of mashed potatoes in. “What i’m mad about is that he called her a Bastard.” Both men beside you stiffen, and the entire dinner table goes silent, though you don’t particularly notice, you’re completely enraptured by the damn mashed potatoes. They were the best thing you’d eaten in months.
Someone clears their throat from across the table. “Technically, she is.” Jake’s chair clatters to the floor along with a couple of his mama’s nice dinner plates as he launches himself across the table at his brother. Nash scoots himself backwards just in time to miss his hands, just as their Daddy comes front he head of the table and pulls Jake to the floor by his belt loops, walloping him on the side of the head.
“The hell is wrong with you, son?!” He bellows, causing his adult son to look up in fear, food smattered across his shirt. “Acting like a damn heathen, breaking your mama’s dishes! Go on and get to your room! I don’t want to see ya until tomorrow!” And with a swift kick to the behind Jake leaves the dining room. It was a scene straight out of your teenage years with him, it was as if you were reliving one of his sibling rivalries with him.
He turns to you next, his features softening. “You okay, honey?” He asks as he crouches down next to your father to help pick up some of the broken glass pieces. You’re not sure where Mama has gone off to, but you can hear her ranting about her dinner table.
“I’m okay, sir..” You say, scooping a heaping pile of the mashed potatoes onto your plate unashamedly as you glare at Nash across from you.
“I’m sorry, Babygirl.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean for anyone to take offense..i just meant that..you know..with you not being with her actual daddy, she is a bastard..you know?” You weren’t surprised that the rest of the family knew. No secret was safe in the Seresin family. “Especially with her not being able to have our name legally..”
“I hadn���t thought about that..” You say quietly. “But, as far as Jake is concerned, he is her actual daddy, even if he didn’t.. you know..help create her. He’s been there for all of the appointments…he’s been there for me through sickness..he felt her move for the first time! He talks to her all the time..”
Nash nods, as if agreeing with you. “That won’t matter to a court though, if the rat bastard that did help create her decides to go for custody.” He takes a long drink out of his sweating beer bottle. “That’s all I was trying to say..didn’t realize he was gonna get all pissypants on me and break mama’s plates..”
“He’s right,” Bradley says from down the way, and you turn to look at him just as Mama ushers you out of your chair, broom in hand. “Dalton could absolutely take you to court over the baby, especially after today. If Jake wants his name attached to her..you guys need to have him sign over parental rights..”
You go around the table and give both men a kiss on their cheeks, thanking them before heading off to the bedroom, your plate of mashed potatoes clutched in your hands. Jake is sat on the end of the bed, his head in his hands and his smattering of chest hair on full display (just how you liked it). He looks up when the door opens, watching you close it behind you before holding out an arm for you, pulling you into his grasp once you’re close enough.
“I fucked up.” He mumbles, face in your chest (right between your boobs, just how he liked) as he wrapped his muscular arms around your waist. Your legs were on either side of his, sitting comfortably as you shoveled another forkful of potatoes in. “I just..I don’t want anyone to bad mouth our little girl, you know?”
You hum. “He’s right though.” His head snaps up so fast you swear his neck breaks, eyebrows furrowed. He’s looked at you as if you have three heads. You stare at your plate of mashed potatoes, wondering if mama will come home with you to make them daily. “She is a bastard.”
A choked sound leaves the back of his throat, and you wince. “How could you say that?” He asks, one of his hands going to your belly, rubbing it as if to soothe the baby.
You look at him, setting the plate down just beside him. “Nash didn’t mean any harm, baby, honest..” You say, hands winding behind his neck, playing with the hair at his nape as he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Dalton will always have a legal claim over her, even though i’m not with him, that doesn’t change that fact that by blood, he is her biological father.” His jaw clenches at your words and you place a gentle kiss on it, hoping to relax him. “I know you already think of her as yours, and I do too..I couldn’t see her calling anyone else Daddy, you know?” He nods. “All Nash was trying to get at was that, if we want her to always only call you daddy, if we want her to legally be yours then we need to legally have him give up his parental rights to her..”
Jake groans, head dropping to your chest again as you pick up your plate of mashed potatoes. “I hate it when he makes sense.” He rests his chin your chest, looking up at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you eating mashed potatoes?”
Getting termination of parental rights paperwork drawn up was surprisingly not hard, the next day was spent in a lawyers office getting multiple copies of the papers drawn up. You signed where you needed to sign, before taking the copies to be signed by Dalton. Bradley and Jake go with you, acting as your body guards as you go through town trying to figure out where the jackass is. According to a mutual friend, he’s day drinking in a local bar that has barely any patrons, and it takes no time to get there.
Jake and Bradley accompany you to the doors, where you pause, fingers grasping the handles. “Babygirl?” It was Bradley who asks, confusion lacing his tone.
You look up at the two men, both of them who clearly cared so much for you. “It’s probably better if he doesn’t see either of you.” You say, looking more pointedly at Jake. “Might make him hostile, you know?” He purses his lips, looking over to Bradley. They seem to have a silent conversation before he finally gives a single nod. He leans down slightly as you reach up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Be back out with four sets of signatures.”
The bar is dark when you first step in, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the lighting. There’s a couple of older patrons hanging around a pool table in the back, who stop what they’re doing to look at you, and another patron sitting at the bar top, on an overstuffed stool. He turns to look slowly at you as the bartender welcomes you. He smirks. “Get tired of your precious little Jakey already?” He taunts, taking a drink of some dark liquor. “Decided to come back to a real man?”
You decide to hold your tongue about what a real man is, and how one of them is waiting right outside those doors for you because you feel like it will make your situation worse. “Actually, i’m here for something else.” You say, climbing up onto the stool next to him as gracefully as you can, nose crinkling as you smell the foul odor coming from his glass. He doesn’t even bother to help you up despite watching you struggle. You set the papers down in front of him, along with a pen.
“What’s this?” He asks, tilting his head at you. You see the bruise on his mouth where Jake’s fist must’ve connected. You can’t help but be proud that your ‘real’ man put it there. “Hm?”
“I want you to legally give up your parental rights to the baby.” You say, looking him in the eye. He laughs. “Did I say something funny?”
“You want me to sign away rights to something that ain’t fuckin’ mine?” He asks, grin on his face as if you’d just said the funniest damn thing in the world. “Thought you were supposed to be smart there, babygirl..” It sounds so wrong coming from his lips that it makes you want to hurl.
“Dalton, you and I both know that she’s yours.” You say sternly, getting in his face. He narrows his eyes at you. “I never slept with anyone else while we were together, you were the only whore in the-” Your ear rings where he had boxed you, closed fisted on it. He was drunker than you thought.
“Alright-that’s enough!” The bartender says, smacking his hand on the counter top. “Little miss, i think it’s best you get on out of here.” You glare at the man who just hit you. He grins like a kid on christmas morning, as if he couldn’t believe that he had shocked you into silence.
“Fine.” You say, grabbing the papers before hopping off the bar stool. “Play it that way.” You face throbs where he had hit you and you hold your hand to it as you make your way to the door, trying not to let tears spill over as you walk out of it, the sunlight practically blinding you.
“Woah!” Jake says, catching you as you barrel into him, holding you by the shoulders. “What’s wrong with your face?!”
Hot, angry tears flow down your cheeks as you look up at him. “He hit me!” You stomp your foot. “He closed fisted boxed me!” You watch your boyfriends face change entirely. “I told him i wanted him to sign the papers, and he told me he wouldn’t sign because the baby isn’t his and i told him he was the only whore in the relationship and he fucking hit me jake!”
He kiss your forehead, taking the tan stetson off his head before placing it down on your own, taking the papers from your hand gently. “I’ll go handle this, babygirl..go wait in the truck.” You open your mouth to protest but he gives you a stern look that shuts you the hell up. “Go wait in the fucking truck.”
You turn to Bradley, who looks just as upset as Jake. He nods towards the truck, his undone hawaiian shirt blowing in the slight breeze as he hands you his own stetson. “Go.” He says, and you pout, your one ally when it came to Jake was siding with him. You take his hat, wanting to poke fun at him for wearing it with a damn hawaiian shirt but stalk off silently to the truck, taking the keys from Jake’s outstretched hand.
You sulk in the truck, angrily talking with yourself for god only knows how long while Jake and Bradley are inside the bar. You’re more than tempted to go poke your head in and find out what the hell is going on, but are afraid of upsetting Jake, so you don’t, opting to stay in the passenger seat as you nurse your slowing oncoming headache from your still throbbing face. He didn’t hit incredibly hard, but you were pretty sure it was going to bruise in such a sensitive area. You’re not one for violence, but you hope Jake knocks him around good for you.
Just as you’re uncomfortable enough to start searching the center console and glove box for spare tylenol, the drivers side and rear doors open, scaring the hell out of you to the point that you jump.
Jake hands you the papers, an awfully happy look on his face. “All done, babygirl.” He says, winking at you as you grin, taking the papers from him.
“What the hell did you see in that punk, anyway?” Bradley asks from the backseat, leaning his head between the middle to look at you. He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his skin was tinted red,as if he had been straining.
“What the hell did you guys do?” You asks, looking between both of them. Jake was equally as flushed as sweaty as Bradley. You hand the latter back his hat, and he smiles gleefully. Jake just smirks at you and shakes his head, putting his hand on the top of his hat to keep it on your head.
“Don’t worry about it, babygirl..we got it done, that’s all that matters.” He says, putting his keys in the ignition.
You smile. “Okay, take these to the courthouse then, get them filed.”
“First, we’re gonna stop by the jewelry store..” Jake says, pulling out of the parking lot, in the opposite direction of the courthouse. “Want to put a ring on that pretty ass finger of yours before they close..”
taglist:
@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891 @stepheewdgirlie @roosteraloha @emma8895eb @itzmadimae @darksparklesficrecs @hookslove1592
#top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fic#top gun jake#jake hangman fic#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader
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