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#he has ANXIETY and just wants to go HOME and SLEEP
stevie-petey · 18 hours
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episode four: the sauna test
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 
Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!
-
Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 
He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 
Especially Steve. 
Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.
Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 
Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.
Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”
You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.
Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”
“It’s fun for me.”
You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.
Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”
Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”
The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”
“Well, do we need a code blue?”
You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”
Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”
“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”
Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”
“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”
Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”
“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”
Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.
It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”
“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.
“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.
“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.
“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.
You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 
When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 
“Hello?”
You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”
There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”
“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 
“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 
“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”
You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”
He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”
– 
Your day only gets worse from there.
After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 
Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”
She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”
“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 
“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”
“The hospital?” 
Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”
You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”
“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”
You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 
Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”
“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”
The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”
You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 
“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”
You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 
Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 
This was supposed to be a good summer. 
Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 
“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”
“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.
You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”
“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.
Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”
Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”
“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”
“Listen, that doesn’t count.”
“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”
He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”
“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 
“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.
Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”
You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”
“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.
As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”
He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”
“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.
“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.
“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”
You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”
Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 
As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”
Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”
“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 
“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”
He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.
It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 
As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 
Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”
You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”
“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”
Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 
Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”
“Sure did, angel.”
You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 
“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.
Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”
“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”
“Did something else happen?” 
You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”
Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”
“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”
“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”
You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”
“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.
“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”
“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”
“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 
It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 
And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.
Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”
Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 
“Nancy?”
“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”
“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”
You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”
She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 
“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”
There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”
“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”
You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”
“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.
“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”
Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”
Well, fuck. 
“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”
Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 
“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”
You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”
“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”
Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”
The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 
Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.
Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 
“I’m sorry, angel.”
Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 
So much for an easy summer.
– 
“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 
Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”
She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”
“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 
“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”
You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”
“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.
“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”
Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”
The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 
Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 
“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”
“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”
Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”
“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”
“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.
“No you will not.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 
“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.
Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”
“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”
“But–”
Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”
You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”
The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”
“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”
“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 
“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.
Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 
The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”
All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 
They look ridiculous. 
“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”
You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 
“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”
Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”
“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”
“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 
You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 
But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 
You stand below her, helpless. 
“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 
“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 
Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”
“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 
You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”
Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.
Once again, you’re the odd man out. 
None of this is what you want.
“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”
Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 
“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.
Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”
He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”
You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”
Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 
“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”
“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”
Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”
“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 
“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”
“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.
You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 
“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 
Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”
After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 
“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”
Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 
“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 
– 
It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 
“This is excessive, even for you.”
You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”
After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”
Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”
“Ask questions later.”
Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.
“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.
“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”
You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”
Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 
“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 
“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”
You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”
Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”
“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.
The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 
If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 
“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”
“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 
“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 
“Any guards?”
Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”
You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 
However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”
“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”
You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”
“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 
You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”
Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 
That beats Demodogs any day. 
You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”
Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 
While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”
“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”
Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”
She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”
You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.
When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”
“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.
“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.
“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.
Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”
Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”
“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 
Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 
He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 
“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 
You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”
Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”
Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”
As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 
Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.
Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”
“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.
A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”
“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 
“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.
“Just press the damn button, nerd.”
You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”
“Press ‘open door’.”
Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 
Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”
You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”
Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.
Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 
Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.
-
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messedupfan · 2 days
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The Hope of a Free World: The Mentor
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Summary: After confronting Finnick about the rebellion, you are given the task of mentoring him in the 75th Hunger Games.
A/n: So a little explanation here. You do not have to read both "The Mentor" and "The Tribute" but you do have to read "Prologue." This is sort of my version of a Choose Your Own Adventure because I saw this going both ways when the request was made. You are absolutely welcome to read both versions of the story, but thought I'd let y'all know that you don't have to. I also forgot to warn y'all before but I'm a huge Everlark fan. If you stan Everthorne, not the fic for you.
Warnings: Violence, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, drug abuse, mentions of forced prostitution, rebellion, mentions of torture.
Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | The Prologue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell declared that the tributes would be pulled from the existing pool of victors, you were itching for a drink. No, you were itching for the drug you take when you have to entertain a client you don’t like. You wanted to feel numb. You didn’t want to think about having to experience the anxiety of a reaping once again. 
You don’t alter your mind to escape the harsh reality. As much as you want to. It still plays with your mind even though you knew this was going to happen. Finnick warned you that this is what their meeting in the Capitol was about. As soon as the broadcast is over, Finnick storms into your house and pulls you out. It needed to look real since your house was most likely bugged. You can hear Annie’s cries from the house they shared as he walks you over. She doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s for the best. According to Finnick, this was the only home in the Victor’s Village that had all of its recording devices removed. He made sure of it. 
He threw you on the couch as he began to pull on his hair and mutter to himself. He was really good at putting on a performance. “Mags,” he left and returned with the older woman a few minutes later. That was everyone Annie knew that he could trust in the district. 
Finnick doesn’t say anything coherent, mostly muttering to himself. He gives Annie a heavy dose of sleep syrup and he carries her to bed when it kicks in. “Okay,” he starts as he sits in front of you and Mags. No longer putting on the panicked act for Annie. Now she knows he’s talking to you and to Mags. That’s all she needs to know. “Here’s the plan, we’re going to train with each other to fight. But I’m going to need you to stop being anti-social. You haven’t mentored a winning tribute yet and I’m going to need your help in there.”
You nodded even though you hated that your contribution to the rebellion had to be talking to other people. “Well, I thought Mags was going to be there with me,” you remind them nervously as you fiddle with your medallion. 
Mags and Finnick exchange a look and your eyes bounce between the two as they both shake their heads. “Sable can’t be trusted. We tried to recruit her without her knowing but she is stuck in her ways. The Capitol hasn’t hurt her the way it has us. She wasn’t ever… desirable in their eyes so she doesn’t know what Snow does to us.” You scowl and shake your head. Even without being prostituted, you’d hoped that a fellow survivor of the Hunger Games would see that this wasn’t a way of life. “Annie… she isn’t an option. Mags is going to have to volunteer in order for this to work,” Finnick concludes. You nod. 
“Looks like we have a lot of work to do,” you say with a sigh.   
It was more than just combative training and learning how to charm sponsors. It was also learning about your escape out of the Capitol. Wanda even paid a heavy price to be allowed to see you one last time before the reaping just to show you the way the two of you, and anyone else you need to rescue, are going to make it out of there when the arena gets shut down. You couldn’t believe it when you found out that she was part of the resistance. But when she revealed that her motivations were the same as yours, it all made your heart flutter. Neither of you have felt free enough to say the words. Even without hearing her say those three words, you could hear it in the silence. You could feel it on the way home. You didn’t need much more than that for the time being.   
At the reaping your heart jumps with anxiety as your name is called. You stand forward as you wait for the process. Volunteers only occur after the reaping winner is introduced to the audience. You make sure to hold your head up high and only drop it when Finnick inevitably volunteers in your place. 
There is no time allotted for goodbyes. Which Finnick would have been okay with had they not denied Annie to join. She wasn’t mentally fit to take on the role of a mentor and according to the head Peacekeeper that escorted you, Finnick, and Mags to the train; it was an order given by the President that this year, they only needed one mentor for the tributes. You were still meant to mentor because you hadn’t successfully found your replacement. 
Finnick was nervous the entire ride to the Capitol. He knew that it was possible that Annie wouldn’t be allowed to mentor. She was exempt in the past since she was more unstable than others. They developed a system to give her the best life possible but she still held a reputation for not being all there mentally. He hoped that his allies in District 4 would be able to get her out of there. But there was no guarantee. 
You tried your best to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do that wouldn’t give away the mission. That wouldn’t give away their private relationship. You didn’t want to risk exposing them, even if there’s a possibility that President Snow already knows. You weren’t going to do anything that will haunt you to believe it was you who confirmed his suspicions. 
Through the training period you are constantly meeting with Haymitch to gauge whether or not he’s been able to convince the Mockingjay and her boy with the bread to team up with your tributes. The three of you nearly jumped for joy when Haymitch informed you that the young woman chose Mags. None of you expected her to want to team with Finnick. His job was to focus on gaining Peeta’s trust. She wasn’t going to team up with anyone without his approval. 
Next came the time to shmooze the people in the Capitol placing bets and offering their support as soon as the Hunger Games started. You put every donation into your communicuff so you could eventually afford a gift to send. You pretended to accept many drinks and because you had been drunk plenty of times in the past, you knew how to play the part. Not as well as Haymitch of course. With Haymitch’s help, the two of you were able to get a few parachutes with supplies here and there but the prices are much higher this year since it’s a Quarter Quell and everyone wants to help their favorite former victors. You get lost in the act of cheering on your tributes on the screen and manipulating people into placing their money into your pockets. 
On the day that Beetee tells his remaining allies in the arena that he has a plan, you are promptly reminded why you're there to begin with. That’s when you started to get nervous. Knowing that you had to escape without being seen. If you failed, it could mean the end of you and you weren’t ready to sacrifice yourself for the cause yet. The whole reason you joined was to safeguard a future with the woman you loved. It was hard for you to focus, you were so on edge. You jumped every time someone approached you to hand you money to help your team. Any movement had your eyes scanning the crowd for a white suite with a black tinted shield on their helmets with guns pointed at you. There never were any. They remained on the other side of the doors that surrounded the room. The paranoia was eating you alive as if you were in the arena once again. 
When they started wrapping the tree with the wire, Wanda finally appeared from the sea of Capitolites. You didn’t know if she was ever in the room before that day but you were more than relieved to see her. “We have to go,” she whispered urgently as she grabbed your hand. You didn’t process fast enough to move so Haymitch tossed a drink in your face.
“I am so sorry, I can be such a clutz,” he grabbed you by your bicep. “Move,” he muttered as he smiled in the direction of the curious eyes that landed on the pair of us. “Nothin’ t’see here folks!” He slurred with a sloppy grin. He was drunk for so long that everyone bought the act. 
You began to move and follow Haymitch and Wanda. Haymitch was staggering so the two of you walked out of the area with him leaning on the both of you. The Peacekeepers almost didn’t pay the three of you any mind. 
Effie Trinket, the escort for District 12, trailed behind the two of you and she almost spoiled the escape as the Peacekeepers stopped her then asked the three of you to stop as well. “Excuse me, I am the only one with the key to the District 12 penthouse!” The Peacekeeper then asked why she couldn’t take Wanda’s spot in carrying Haymitch to his room and before you could stutter on a response, Effie was quick on her feet. “And risk flattening my feathers,” she scoffed as she clutched her pearls, “I think not!” The Peacekeeper apologized and let all four of you go.
At the first checkpoint, you and Haymitch discard your communicuffs so they can’t track you anymore. But that meant that the four of you had to move faster. They were made to alert authorities when prematurely removed. 
There was a little bit of a hiccup in the plan when a man approached Wanda, appearing out of nowhere. Stalling the four of you while he pulled her to the side to talk to her. You send Haymith and Effie off to continue to the rendezvous point as you stay back to ensure that Wanda gets there as well. The man's name was Vision, you overheard her when she asked him to let her go. There seemed to be some sort of history there. He looked like a government official. You couldn’t really tell what his significance was. But when he grabbed Wanda again and threatened to expose her, you did what life in the academy at District 4 raised you to do. He didn’t hear or see you coming when you came up behind him and snapped his neck. 
Wanda’s eyes widened but she shook her head and got back into focus. “Let’s go, we have to get out of here now.” You nodded and followed. When you got to the tunnel you were surprised to see a few of the other mentors there as well. You figured that they were on the side of the Capitol since their tributes were but each of them revealed their crackers with the mockingjay symbol on them. You did as well. There was a head count before every person could eat them to get rid of them. 
In the small gathering of people with a mix of mentors, camera crew, and what appeared to be Avoxes, Wanda recognized another man and this time she ran into his arms with tears in her eyes. You almost began to think that she had fooled you into believing that you were more than a purchase for her until she pulled away from him and you could get a good look at him. 
There was a small conversation once about him. Wanda had pictures of him all over her home and you once asked if she was married. She laughed at first but her expression fell as she realized you were holding a picture frame in your hand. She took the frame and placed it face down on the shelf as she muttered, “He was my twin before he became a traitor.” That was the last time you ever asked about him.  
Seeing her beam at him through her tears told you all you needed to know. Even if you were the reason she continued to be part of the rebellion, he was the reason she first sought them out. You couldn’t wait to be able to talk freely with her in District 13. You knew that there were many sides of her that you had yet to explore and you couldn’t wait to get to know her on a much deeper level. 
Once everyone boarded the stolen hovercraft you took a deep breath as you hoped that the plan in the arena went down as smoothly. But even if it didn’t, you knew that this was just the beginning of the new world. 
District 13 was strict. Each day you had a schedule tattooed on your forearm and you'd face harsh consequences if you didn't obey it. The meals were tasteless and the portions were less than you had gotten used to since becoming a victor. The training regimen was beyond what you were used to but it was the only thing about the district that you enjoyed because it was the easiest adjustment. Not to mention the times you got to spar with Wanda were some of the best foreplay the two of you got to experience. 
Unfortunately the two of you didn't get nearly as much time together as either of you hoped. Since you weren't married, they wouldn't let the two of you share a living space together. So she lived with Pietro, while you lived on your own. It was frustrating but you weren't willing to marry her over a distaste for the living arrangement. You wanted to wait until the country was free and so did she. 
The schedule allotted thirty minutes for family time. A decent break between the education and training for most of the citizens of District 13. You suppose it gave time to remind those who forget, what they are fighting for exactly. You and Wanda used that time to learn the sign language that the Avoxes use as communication. Wanda felt so disconnected from her twin because she couldn’t communicate with him the way she used to. Pietro was very patient and helpful when it came to the private lessons between the three of you. 
“I’m happy to have him back but,” Wanda sighed as she laid in your arms. “I wish I had done something to protect him.” 
You frowned as you lightly caressed her arm. You looked at her for a moment and admired her natural beauty. In District 13 appearance wasn't a priority the way that it is in the Capitol and certain districts. Wanda didn't need the wigs or the heavy makeup in order to fit in here. She finally got to be her true self. “There was nothing you could have done for him. If you had tried, you would have ended up just like him. You might not have even gotten here,” you tried to comfort her. 
Wanda sat up and faced you, “I um,” she looked down as she started to trace patterns on your chest. “I'm the reason he got in trouble in the first place.” 
You made a face, “How so?” 
“Vision,” she started and looked at the wall beside her. “The man you killed during our escape. He, uh, we were engaged. He worked in the government and he knew powerful people.” You nodded to show that you were following along when she did finally look at you. “And he witnessed Pietro committing an act of treason. He wasn't going to turn my brother in while we were engaged. I didn't know that he had seen Pietro do something illegal.” You rubbed Wanda's back as she spoke. It was clearly a difficult topic for her. “Vision never did anything out of the kindness of his heart. And he had a bit of a darkside to him that at a certain point, I couldn't handle anymore. So I broke off the engagement. He didn't even ask me to reconsider. He just showed up at my apartment the next day with a warrant and several Peacekeepers.” She closed her eyes as tears started to slip out. 
You shook your head as you wiped her tears. “If you had agreed to marry Vision, do you think you'd have been alive today?” Wanda thought for a second before she shook her head. “I think Pietro would tell you that you made the right decision. In fact, I'd put my money on that being the first thing he tells you when you can understand him. I mean, he was so incredibly happy to see you again. If he didn't care about you, he would have held a grudge.” 
“I suppose you're right,” she sighed as she rested against you again. The two of you fell asleep shortly after. And you were right. 
Pietro was eventually given a communication tablet because during a strategy meeting, he had written down brilliant ideas. President Coin and commander Boggs both agreed that Pietro needed to be able to speak up in a way that everyone could understand. Beetee developed a chip that was implanted in Pietro’s head. So the words appear on the tablet as fast as he can think them. He was even given options to either have it turned off completely or partially. Like if he wanted to have a private conversation, he could turn the voice option off and hand the tablet to the other person. And if he wanted to keep his thoughts private, he could turn the tablet off completely and not worry about a single thought being recorded or heard. 
The first thing he told Wanda was that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to him and that he is proud to see her as a happy and free woman. She sobbed and held onto him for the duration of the family time break.  
Finnick wasn't successful in retrieving both assets from the arena which made the progression of the rebellion slow down. He was able to get the girl out but not the boy. Johanna claimed that the girl was annoying before, but without Peeta she was insufferable. You couldn't imagine what she was going through. You were grateful that you weren't in her shoes. That you had Wanda with you. 
You tried to stay out of everything that concerned the Mockingjay and being a face of the revolution. You figured that the girl would snap out of it and realize that it was bigger than her. But eventually they started to look at you and Johanna. Finnick was willing to participate until the night that Annie was executed on live television at the District 4 Justice Building with four other confirmed rebels. The ones that were meant to help her escape the district. He tried to join her in the after life but you found him in time and got him to the infirmary.
You cried in Wanda's arms that night for the loss of your friends. You knew that Finnick won't ever be the same. 
So the responsibility of the propos fell onto you and Johanna. She was great at acting for the camera. You remember that’s how she was able to win her first games. No one thought the shy dainty girl from District 7 stood a chance in the arena until she got her hands on an axe. 
Most of her propos were filmed on a soundstage. She had a blue baton and fought against the soldiers dressed in Peacekeeper uniforms. Then she'd recite the lines perfectly. But there was something missing. You couldn't put your finger on it. But she wasn't inspiring. She was impressive. But she didn't have what Katniss had. And neither did you. 
You were a little more clumsy in your propo performances. You'd miss your marks and fumble on your lines. Luckily, with enough takes they were able to scramble something together. But it didn't have the fire it needed. It wasn't enough to inspire people to risk their lives for a cause that started to feel like it was dying. 
“It's not dying, it's just,” Wanda fails to come up with another term after you've expressed your concerns with her. She holds your face in her hands as she climbs onto your lap. Her eyes traveled along your face. She was searching for something. You didn't know what. “I can help you with your lines. Just, get me clearance to be with you during the day. You can do it. You can keep this revolution alive. I've seen that fire in you. You just need to have the right motivations.” 
You smirk, “I’m assuming that you believe that's you?” Wanda smacks your shoulder and you laugh as you kiss her cheek and trap her as she tries to escape your arms. “I'm kidding. I love you,” you said as you gazed into her eyes. Wanda froze in your arms. It was the first time you'd said the words out loud. She didn't know what she expected to feel when she finally heard those words from you, but she didn't expect to feel so much at once. She felt joy, she felt love, she also felt a deep fear. 
With tearful eyes, she leaned in and kissed your lips. “I love you too,” she whispered against your lips. The two of you made slow and passionate love that night. Telling each other how much you'd felt for each other. 
Wanda was right, with her as your director, you had the proper motivations for your filming. Plutarch was ecstatic with the new footage and things in the districts started to get rowdy again. People began to get motivated again. 
Things in District 13 started to feel a little more claustrophobic with the successes of your propos. Strangers would thank you and request autographs. Women would invade your personal space. Wanda would step in their way whenever she was around but she couldn't be by your side twenty-four seven. 
One of the times that a girl tried to kiss you, you were able to slip away and ran into an open vent to hide from her. That's where you found Katniss curled in a ball muttering to herself. “Sorry,” you said when she was startled by your presence. “I didn't mean to scare you, I just…” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your medallion. “I thought people here in Thirteen would have more boundaries than those in the Capitol but I guess horniness is a universal problem.” You tried to joke and you only got met with her glare. 
You nodded once and took a deep breath as you braced yourself for what you might face when you climbed out. But then a nurse started to call for Katniss. The girl curled up further and you instinctively blocked the nurse's view of Katniss with your body. “Sergeant, you shouldn't be in here,” the nurse grumbled. “Is Ms. Everdeen in there with you?” 
“I'm offended by that question. She is a married woman, and way too young for me,” you acted out dramatically. “I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I prefer someone a tad older than me. Don't tell her I said that though. She likes to keep her age a secret. But I mean come on simple math-” 
“What are you doing in there?” The nurse asked sharply as she interrupted your rambling. 
You hold up your medallion and the light of her flashlight bounces off of it. “I tripped walking and had to look for this,” you explained. “It's one of a kind. Couldn't risk losing it.” 
“Well since you've found it, you can leave. This is a favorite spot for the Mockingjay to hide. No one has seen her for hours,” the nurse explained. 
“Well, you're going to have to look somewhere else because she's not here,” you stressed as you stayed in your position. You were afraid if you moved, you would risk exposing that Katniss was also inside. 
The nurse turns off the flashlight and leaves. You listened to her heavy footsteps and waited until you couldn't hear her. “Why did you do that?” Katniss startled you. 
You yelped and held your hand to your chest as you dropped your coin. “Shit, Everdeen. Warn a person,” you patted the ground and your heart didn't stop racing until your fingers wrapped around the familiar metal. “I did it because I get needing a breather from all of the chaos out there. Besides, since you're out of commission, the rest of us have had to fill in for you. Let me tell you, I do not envy you. But I do sympathize with you.” 
“What are you talking about?” Katniss scowled at you. 
“They need a face of the revolution. Panem needs your face but they've been settling for mine and Jo’s,” you elaborated with a small laugh. “Let me tell you, I think I'm steering people in the wrong direction. I've had people approach me for a good time more than thanking me for trying to keep this revolution alive,” you shook your head as you stared at your medallion. 
“I have had to endure listening to the nurses gush about you,” Katniss muttered. You snorted. “I almost wished I could go back into the arena. It wasn't as painful.” 
“Believe me, no one wishes they could return to the arena more than I do,” you said quietly. “If I could've warned my younger self, I probably would have told him to not win,” you admit. Then you sigh. “But then I wouldn't have gotten to experience all of the good things I've managed to experience in my life.” 
“Ah, I've heard that you were quite popular with the citizens of the Capitol. I'm sure there's no regrets there when everyone wants to sleep with you, and has,” Katniss replied sarcastically. You're sure that she thought it was a harmless remark. She had no idea the weight of her words. So you gave her some grace. 
“Trust me Katniss, there's plenty of regrets there,” you said as you looked at her. “You're lucky to be ignorant to the true life of a victor. Especially someone as desirable as you.” 
Katniss rolled her eyes, “I'm far from desirable.” 
“A lot of my buyers would disagree,” you scoffed. 
“Buyers?” Katniss questioned but you couldn't explain it. So you shook your head. 
“Let's get you back to the infirmary,” you said as you offered her your hand. “You need to get better,” you said with a soft tone. 
Katniss stared at your hand as the red emergency light shined on it, then looked at you with tears in her eyes. She shook her head. “I don't deserve to. Not when Peeta…” she couldn't finish her sentence and you nodded. 
“You can't save him if you don't get better,” you tried to encourage her. “If you want them to arrange a rescue mission, you have to give Coin what she wants.” 
“Coin?” She squeaked out in confusion. 
The corner of your lips stretched up slightly. “She's the president of this district. Alma Coin is her full name,” you inform her. 
“Oh,” Katniss nodded. Then she accepted your hand and the two of you left the space. But once the two of you were in the hallway, Katniss wouldn't move. “I can't go back. I… the hallucinations… I can't.” 
“Hallucinations?” You frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The drugs, I don't know. Whatever they use to sedate me. It's,” Katniss failed to continue then was interrupted when Gale Hawthorne spotted the two of you. 
“Katniss, there you are,” he said as he jogged down the corridor. As he got closer he slowed down and scowled at you. “I knew you weren't picky but I didn't think you were a predator,” he glared at you as he pulled Katniss away from you. 
“Gale,” Katniss snapped at him as he stood between the two of you. “Leave Y/n alone. We weren't doing anything. Let's go.” 
“Stay away from her,” Gale nearly growled at you. At the moment you refrained from laughing but later that night, you and Wanda couldn't stop laughing about it. 
A couple of days after that, while you were sitting with Wanda and Pietro in the mess hall, a blonde girl in her early teens dressed as one of the nurses tapped your shoulder. It took you a moment to recognize Primrose Everdeen but after she claimed that her sister requested to see you after lunch, you were able to put the pieces together. Wanda encouraged you to go so you did. 
When you met with Katniss, she wanted you to catch her up to speed with everything that had been going on. She didn't know who she could trust but she didn't think you'd lie to her. Gale treated her like she could break at any second. She didn't care to see her mentor or her district escort. Prim would go on and on about her day whenever she tended to Katniss, she didn't have any important information. The girl was in medical training. You seemed to be the best option. 
And you proved to be. You would sit by her side for thirty minutes each day, catching her up on any information that you thought she should know. She appreciated the honesty. 
She eventually got discharged from the infirmary. At her first meeting with Coin and Plutarch she requested that you were nearby. She was in there for about five minutes before she stormed out of the room. A week later, she was being dropped off in her home district. Plutarch's way of reminding the Mockingjay what's at stake. You were left behind to train, not that you minded. You weren't ever good at being a mentor. You don't know why you had the misfortune of being the one to find her that day. But the teenager seemed to have attached herself to you like a lost puppy. 
When she returned from District 12, she asked you to help her with a list of demands. She said her sister suggested it and that was the first time you wished that you were in her position. During the lunch hour, she sat with you and Wanda and Pietro. Wanda was hoping that Katniss wouldn't recognize her since she's almost positive she offended the girl while doing her job when she had a job in the Capitol. Luckily, Katniss never put it together. Pietro would chime in with a suggestion or two and Katniss was grateful for the input. After her meeting with President Coin she confirmed that she accepted her role as the Mockingjay.
Eventually Katniss began to rely a lot more on others. She developed a closer relationship with Johanna to the point that she requested to be roommates with her. You laughed when Johanna told you that Katniss wasn't as bad as she originally made her out to be. With Katniss needing you less, you were able to allocate time for Finnick. He was in horrible shape from losing the love of his life in such a horrific way. 
“I'm kind of glad she's dead,” he'd said one day as he focused his attention on his rope. “At least she's not being tortured. At least it's all over for her. She suffered for a long time. She's not in pain anymore.” It hurt you to hear the lifeless tone from the man that brought life to so much. He was the one to remind so many that through tragedy, there was still so much good. He's the one that snapped you out of your darkness. He had suffered so much for so long and he never let it show until Annie was executed. His words hurt for many reasons. That Annie was also your friend who could be quite funny and lively when she was stable. That she was someone anyone with a heart wanted to protect whenever she wasn't. 
At the mention of how she suffered, you recall a day at the market. It was just you and Annie. She was rattling on and on about some recipe she was trying to remember. She was slightly frustrated because she couldn't remember a certain ingredient. When you began to list off any ingredients that you could think of, a fake spear nearly hit Annie in the face. It would have made contact had you not caught it in time. The kids that were messing with the toy were very apologetic until Annie started screaming. People around began to panic as Annie had a melt down and all you could think to do was to shield her away from everyone. Others who were sympathetic to her condition helped you get through the crowded market while you carried her. It took her a month to snap out of it. You stopped by to check on her each day and Finnick allowed an hour visit each time. She would sit in her bed and stare blankly at the wall. She wouldn't speak. She'd hardly blink. You then knew that there was no such thing as a victor. There were only survivors. 
Sitting with Finnick was a lot like that. He wouldn't talk much and when he did speak, you almost wished you hadn't been there to hear it. 
On the day that Peeta was finally broadcast in an interview with Caesar Flickerman, Katniss rose up from her table where she was sitting with her mom and sister. She had a look you'd seen many times from Finnick and Annie and you felt that same protectiveness. She shouldn't have had to experience that moment so publicly. You pulled her out of the cafeteria and took her to a private area to watch Peeta's interview.
There weren't a lot of areas with private television access but you were able to shoo people out of a control room to allow Katniss the privacy. You stood outside the door to prevent anyone from going inside. You didn't run inside until you heard her screams. You wrapped your body around her and taught her how to breathe again until she calmed down. 
Shortly after that, Katniss started to do her propos. You asked Wanda to help direct her because she was so helpful with you. But when Effie caught wind of the possibility of a replacement, she swooped in. Unfortunately for her, Katniss wasn't an actor. She gave terrible delivery of her lines and her body language was too stiff. Even with Wanda’s notes, Katniss's performances were silly. Then they tested adding you and Johanna to help carry the weight. The two of you read the lines and Katniss was only meant to be seen and not heard. But it still wasn't enough. 
It wasn't until Haymitch walked in with his sarcastic claps that the team was able to put together what gave the Mockingjay her flare. She had to be in action. Her emotions had to be raw and real. Not with silly weapons and pretend fighting. Coin was resistant to letting the stars out into the front lines but Commander Boggs and Plutarch were able to convince her. 
Wanda wasn't too thrilled about you going out to fight either. The last thing she wanted to do was risk losing you. “I know that it's important but,” Wanda stands in the corner of your living quarters. “You have to swear to me that you're coming back here in one piece.” 
“Wanda, it's going to be safe,” you said as you crossed the room and took her face in your hands with a light touch. “You heard the details of the mission. They're only sending us to a refuge hospital in District Eight. We won't encounter a battle. We’ll be far from it. Besides, I hear Beetee has whipped up some badass weapons that aren't just for show.” She cracked a smile and you kissed her. The two of you leaned your foreheads against one another with your eyes shut for a moment as you held each other's hands. 
“Come back to me,” she whispered. 
“I promise, I always will.”
The following day Beetee invited you, Katniss, Gale, and Johanna to his laboratory where he presented the new weapons for each of you. For Katniss he had a sleek black bow that hummed with life whenever she held it in position. She used a normal arrow to practice and according to her, the bow helped her with accuracy. Not that she had a problem with that according to Gale. He was given a crossbow that seemed to have similar features to Katniss's bow. The bows came equipped with two types of special arrows. One had explosives and the other had fire. 
Johanna was given an especially sharp axe with nanotechnology that reshapes itself in order to stay that way. She was given a special glove with it. If she threw it too far, she was able to call it back to her no matter what it was stuck in or how far away it was. She thought it was a dumb idea at first and she was scared to even test it out since she couldn't trust that the axe wouldn't land in her hand the wrong way. But after a couple of run throughs, she couldn't wait to be given the chance to use the weapon. 
Next you were given a special trident. There was a second one made just like it for Finnick and it hurt you that he wasn't healthy enough to be doing this with you. After all, he was part of this long before you were. 
“The metal used for your trident and Johanna’s axe aren't of this planet. There isn't a metal stronger than this,” Beetee explained as you questioned why the trident was so light. You'd never wielded a trident so light since you were a child. You'd believed you were duped until you cut a test dummy's head clean off with barely a motion. 
“Why aren't our arrowheads made with the same material?” Gale asked with a scowl.
“It's the rarest metal on earth, bigfoot,” a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere as he tapped away on a tablet. “Explosives aren't enough for you?” He shakes his head. “We only had enough material for the Mockingjay suit, the axe, and the tridents.” 
“Wait, you mean to tell me that Katniss gets a special suit and the rest of us are vulnerable?” Johanna asked next. It wasn't fair.
“Take it up with Cinna. Oh wait, you can't,” the man said in reference to the designer's death. 
“What does Cinna have to do with this metal?” Katniss asked. 
“It came from his ancestors. He said the metal was called vibranium. He only had a limited supply of the pure metal and he had enough of its fabric to make the Mockingjay armor. I only fulfilled his dying wishes,” the man said. 
“Meet Tony Stark, everyone,” Beetee introduces the man. “He is almost as intelligent as I am.” 
“Charming,” Tony rolled his eyes at the man. “If you don't mind, some of us have real work to do.” He took the trident from your hands. “May I?” He said as he walked away without a response from you. He walked around the lab and took apart the rod. You figured that whatever he was up to with the weapon was only going to benefit you. 
The trident ended up being very useful in District 8 when the Peacekeepers attacked the hospital. 
Arriving at District 8, the group was brought inside a formerly abandoned warehouse. The entrance hall of the building was lined with stacks of casualties. You nearly threw up at the smell. Gale did have to step aside to vomit. Paylor commented that everyone will get used to the smell. You couldn't believe these were the conditions for those that couldn't make it to District 13. You had no idea how good you'd had it in that district until you walked into the main area of the warehouse. 
It was full of sick and injured and dying men, women, and children. Those who weren't at risk of losing their lives were tending to those that were. It was eye opening. This was the cost of war. It made you queasy again. You nearly fainted. But you didn't want them to waste any of their supplies on you. So you continued to stand tall. 
The first sighting of Katniss had the people stunned. They hadn't seen her until that point. No one outside of Thirteen had. An elderly woman asked her about her baby after she agreed that she was going to fight. You hadn't thought about the fact that Peeta had shocked everyone on the night of the interviews with the news of their private nuptials and baby announcement. It appeared that Katniss might've forgotten about that as well but she recovered quickly. She stated that she lost the baby. 
Shortly after that Cressida, a director from the Capitol, was raving about the footage she got of Katniss and of the rest of you meeting refugees and handing them supplies they needed. Plutarch thought it would be more effective if the team was sent with gifts and not just gifting the injured with the presence of the Mockingjay. You and Johanna were whispering inside jokes to each other about how Gale didn't look at Katniss like they were related. Then the jokes turned into claims that the rumors of their home districts incest problems might not be rumors. Gale heard that one and turned around to say something. That's when the first bomb hit. The team sprung into action to get out of the building and that's when everyone saw the hovercrafts with the Capitol emblems on them. Katniss and Gale moved to get higher in order to shoot them down with their special arrows. You tried to shoot them down with the standard issue machine gun they provided you in case something like this happened but it was just a waste of bullets once an arrow took one of the crafts down. 
A squad of Peacekeepers appeared and were firing their weapons. As you dove for cover, Johanna threw her axe. The weapon cut off three heads of Peacekeepers before it got stuck in a cement wall. On your hip, your trident was closed into a simple rod. You pulled it out and clicked a button that allowed it to expand out and reveal its sharp metal. You accidentally tapped another button and the blades became electrified. 
“Cool,” Johanna muttered as she watched your weapon become even deadlier. She caught her axe in her hand and together the two of you charged at the Peacekeepers. Taking multiple down at a time. Not stopping until the last one was gone. Unfortunately, even with all of the effort to stop the attack, the makeshift hospital was gone. 
You were devastated by the sight. As was Katniss. She gave a harrowing speech into the camera as a Capitol ship burned behind her. She pointed to it and shouted, “If we burn! You burn with us!” 
Wanda ran into your arms as soon as you stepped out of the hovercraft.
“I heard there was a attack in Eight. I thought, I thought,” she shook as she failed to finish her sentence. 
“It's okay,” you whispered as you held her just as tight. “I'm okay.” 
Katniss watched you and Wanda. She remembered having a similar feeling in her first games when she heard the cannon go off and she couldn't find Peeta. Again when his heart stopped in the second games. She felt it recently when she saw Peeta on television for the first time since they'd been separated. She looked at Gale and wondered if she'd feel that kind of fear if his life was at stake. She knows she'd be afraid to lose him. But would she feel the same desperation she felt for Peeta? She didn't know. She did know that she the first impressions of you that she had before were completely wrong. She thought that, much like Finnick, you were just another victor that used their fame and riches to sleep with everyone and anyone. There was a lot of coverage of it in the years since you'd won. But watching the way you were with Wanda. She realized there was something a lot more to you than that. 
“When you said your buyers would disagree,” Katniss started as the two of you walked around the woods. She was in an argument with Gale because of what Peeta was being forced to say on television. Katniss still wanted to hunt but she wasn't allowed to without at least one other person with her. She invited Johanna but she said she'd rather be burned alive because at least that torture ended in death. So she asked you and you didn't feel up to dancing in front of another camera so you agreed. “What did you mean by that?”
“I shouldn't have said that to you,” you said as you kept on walking. 
“Well you did and I want to know what that meant,” Katniss pressed on as she followed. 
“Why? It's not important,” you tried to move on from the subject and when she asked again you stopped walking. You turned to her and sighed. “Katniss, what I'm about to tell you isn't… It's not something you'll be able to easily forget. Are you sure that you want to know?” 
Katniss nodded her head, “Yes, I need to know. I can't stop thinking about it. Why would you have buyers?” 
“Because of Snow,” you stated with a shrug. “I wasn't the only one. There are, sorry, were other victors that were auctioned off to the highest bidders. Those that were found to be… desirable in the eyes of Capitol citizens or officials were forced to comply. Snow allowed us access to certain drugs that took the edge off, made the meetings bearable. But if we ever resisted, he would kill someone that we cared about. It happened to Finnick. It happened to Johanna. It happened to me. So, Katniss, when I say that you are lucky. I mean that you are lucky,” you stated before turning and walking on. 
“I don't get it. Why would he do that?” Katniss eventually asked after a while. She had gone silent after your speech and you felt bad for your snarky comment. You hardly knew what she had to endure, she was from a poor district. She'd been in the Hunger Games twice. It wasn't a fair statement. 
You shrugged at her question, “To remind us that we're still just as powerless as we were before we won? I don't know.”
Katniss stopped you from walking further and turned you to face her. She scanned your face with her eyes then she hugged you. “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” she said against your chest. You responded to the hug by wrapping your arms around her and rubbing her back.
“It's over now,” you stated before pulling away. 
“How did you manage to find someone to love through all of that? How did you allow yourself to open up to someone that way?” Katniss asked. 
You smiled as you thought about the first time you met Wanda. “Love isn't something that you find or that you decide whether or not to accept. Not when it's true. The kind of love that I have with Wanda, it snuck up on me. I never expected it and I don't think she did either. I tried to fight it, of course. She did as well, I mean I might've been a victor but I was still from the districts. Falling for me was a giant risk for her. Not just career wise but her life was at stake as well. But eventually neither of us could deny it,” you shook your head. 
“Wanda isn't from District Four?” Katniss asked dumbly. 
You laughed, “She's going to kill me when I tell you this because she thinks she might've offended you when she was doing her job but no, she isn't from Four. She's from the Capitol. She used to do the gossip segment for Capitol TV.” 
Katniss's eyes widened in recognition. “Now I remember her. Wow, I cannot believe I didn't recognize her. She's so human now.”
You nodded, “Yeah, she hated her job but it's what more than paid the bills.” 
“It must’ve been difficult to protect that love,” she sympathized. “Talk about star-crossed lovers,” she muttered. 
You stared at her for a moment as you considered asking all of the questions that had been swarming your mind long before you even met her. “You and your cousin?”
Katniss sighed through her nose as she looked at you, “He’s not my cousin. He – I don’t quite know what he is to me right now.”
 You nodded and bit your lips. “You and Peeta,” you started and Katniss’s eyes darted to the ground, “What, uh, was any of that real?” 
Katniss shook her head then she nodded then she shook her head more. “I don’t know. I’ve told myself a dozen times that it was just about survival but… I don’t know.” You nodded. You understood how complicated feelings could be. “Snow didn’t make it any easier.”
You frowned as your eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”
Katniss took a deep breath, “He told me that if I couldn’t convince him and the rest of the country that my moment with berries was an act of love and not an act of defiance… he’d well, he made it seem like he’d kill everyone I cared about but instead he just sent us back into the games.” She looked off to the distance. “He wanted to avoid all of this.” She shook her head again. “I thought he was crazy. I didn’t think that my decision to save the person that saved my family and I when we were preteens would cause all of this.” 
“Katniss,” you started, you wanted to tell her that there was so much more to this. But it wouldn’t be much comfort to know that every person has just been a pawn in these games. “Let’s just focus on hunting. That’s something that does a lot more good than bad, right?”
Katniss nodded as she started walking again. 
After that the two of you were able to kill two giant elks. It took a lot to carry down to the kitchen but somehow the two of you managed. The two of you were sharing a laugh when a broadcast of Peeta came onto the screens in the cafeteria. He looked worse than the first time they showed him. Katniss covered her mouth at the sight. You shut your eyes as you tried to push away the thoughts of what they could be doing to the poor boy. It wasn't fair. 
He was once again calling for a cease fire. Well the first time he was asking for one. This time he was begging for Katniss to stop. You shook your head at his words. You have no idea what you would do in his position. 
The next propo recorded was Katniss's idea. She wanted to show Peeta what happened to their district. So the film crew went out to District 12 to film Katniss and Gale. You and Johanna were forced to go just in case there was another attack. It would look good for the cameras. 
Katniss and Gale walked around what was left of their home district, which was nothing but ashes. Bodies were melted together and you could imagine their despair as they tried to run out of the district. Katniss told the cameras what building used to be where in what used to be the town square. She stood on what once was Peeta Mellark's childhood home. Gale then told the cameras how the bombing went down. He claimed that the Mellark's had no chance to get out of there as some of the first bombs hit around the bakery. 
The footage ended up saving many lives. They intercepted another interview with Peeta and he looked much worse than before. He heard Katniss's song as Beetee and Tony disrupted the broadcast and warned her that everyone would be dead by the morning. The footage ended with Peeta being knocked out with the butt of a rifle. The camera fell as his blood splattered on the floor. 
The district had to evacuate even further into the Earth. They had a bunker just in case the Capitol tried to bomb the already underground district again. You stayed with Wanda and Pietro as the bombs shook the planet. It was hours before the walls stopped shaking. It might've been all night but without any way to track the time, it didn't really matter. People just wanted it to stop. 
Once the hovercrafts were cleared, a team of volunteers were sent to rescue Peeta. Gale was the first to volunteer, you were the second. Despite Wanda’s protests, you had to go. You had to help especially after Katniss had a meltdown. She was just like Annie. You couldn't save but maybe you could save Peeta. You couldn’t help Finnick, but you hoped you could help Katniss.
The mission wasn’t easy. You knew it wouldn’t be. Peacekeepers were everywhere. If you hadn’t had a weapon so special, you don’t think you’d have made it out alive. Getting out of the Capitol was nearly impossible but somehow the team managed to get out with only a couple casualties. When you returned, you had to face the wives and husbands of those that didn’t make it back. You don’t think you’ll ever forget their screams for those they lost. Just another reason to wake up in the middle of the night. 
Wanda wouldn’t open the door when you went to visit her. At breakfast the next morning she wouldn’t look at you. At lunch she sat close to you but still refused to address your presence. By dinner, she decided to forgive you for volunteering to go on the possible suicide mission. She hugged your bruised and cut up body and glared at you when you winced. 
“You wouldn’t be in pain if you’d of stayed,” she said and you smiled as you kissed her scowl. 
“I love you too.” She rolled her eyes as she continued to lean against you. “I told you that I’d always come back.” 
Wanda sighed deeply, “I hate that I fell in love with someone that’d risk their life to save the world. But I can’t ask you to stop.” She moved your overgrown hair behind your ear. “That hope in your heart is what made me fall in the first place.”
“You really set yourself up for failure didn’t you?” You asked with a grin as you also moved locks of her hair behind her ear. 
“Gag, I’m trying to eat here,” Pietro’s tablet went off and he quickly fumbled with trying to turn it off as you and Wanda laughed. 
With Peeta in the infirmary, Katniss began to ignore her schedule. She spent her training hours in his room. She didn’t want him to feel alone since none of his family made it out. A friend of his, Delly Cartwright, did make it to District 13. She was visiting when Katniss wasn’t. Peeta was in terrible shape when he was rescued. It was months before he was well enough to be released and in that time more districts became free from the ruling of the Capitol. 
You were only sent to other districts when they wanted to film supplies being distributed to them. To show that District 13 cared. You felt off about it but it kept you off of the frontlines where you could be safe. And since the Mockingjay was refusing to do much outside of helping Peeta back to health, there wasn’t much else expected of the Star Squad. The nickname for the squad of victors that always had the cameras on them. 
You would visit Finnick when you could in order to get him to eat after he’d nearly starved himself to death. You were kind and paitient with him until one day you unleashed your frustration with him. 
“I’m so sick of your pity party Finnick!” You shouted after he just went on and on about wanting to be dead. “Do you know how much medical supplies they’ve wasted to keep you alive? You’re not even grateful!” You started to pace the room.
“I never asked them to -” he began to shout back.
“Well too damn bad! They did! I promised Annie that I would always be there for you and I’ll be damned if you make me break that promise!”
“She’s dead! What she wanted doesn’t matter anymore!” 
“Of course it matters!” You shouted back just as desperate. “Finnick, she loved you. And you loved her! She's gone and you're still here. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. But if you were out there, you would see how selfish you've been! If you had a conversation with ten people here, you'd find out that more than half of them have lost the loves of their lives and they are still fighting!” You shook your head at him. “I've been patient with you but you're pathetic. And I can't keep doing this anymore,” you left the room. 
You didn't see him again until a few months later when he walked into the training room. He looked healthier than the last time you'd seen him. Finnick wouldn't go near you but you didn't mind. You preferred that he hated you. It meant he was alive. 
“We need something to celebrate,” Plutarch said as he eyed Katniss and Peeta. The two were always seen together. If you spotted one alone, the other wasn't too far behind. You teased her about it during training once and she jabbed you in the ribs with a baton. You stopped teasing her whenever there was a weapon around. “We were thinking of a wedding…” he kept moving his eyes towards the clueless teens. 
Katniss shrugged when she felt his eyes on her, “That's not a terrible idea. Who's getting married?” You shook your head as you failed to hide your amusement. 
“You're not serious?” You look at Plutarch and Coin. “You're going to force those kids to fake their marriage a second time?” 
“Well, seeing as they already claimed-” 
“Wait us?” Katniss finally caught up. 
“I don't know guys,” Peeta started. 
“Hear us out-” Plutarch tried to explain again. 
“Ugh, please stop,” Johanna cut in with a roll of her eyes. “It's already been done. We can't keep spinning this broken record. I'd sooner gouge my eyes out than attend their wedding.” 
“That's not-” Katniss frowned. 
“No one was asking you, Johanna,” Plutarch finally got a full sentence in. 
You looked over at Wanda as you considered volunteering. She met your eyes and subtly shook her head. You sighed and turned to the table. “What about Johanna and…” your eyes scanned the room. You smirked as they landed on the glowering raven haired grey eyed man sitting across from Katniss and Peeta. “Gale,” you grinned. “Cressida has said that he has a face for the camera. And come on, what’s more unifying than a miner from Twelve marrying a lumberjack from Seven?” You could have sworn that you saw smoke coming out of Gale's ears. “Shows that we're all the same.” 
“That's not a bad idea,” Finnick chimed in. 
“Screw you, where'd you come from anyway?” Johanna snapped at her friend. 
“I'm just saying, no one would expect it,” Finnick shrugged. 
President Coin leaned forward on the table. She looked at each face then she said, “No. It has to be the Mockingjay.” 
“Why?” You challenged her. 
“Excuse me?” Coin stared at you directly. 
“Why does it have to be her? She's a kid,” you doubled down. “If you make them get married, you're no better than Snow.” The room went silent. No one has challenged the president so openly before. They weren't sure what they were supposed to do. 
“We'll do it,” Katniss said. “Don't punish Y/n. I've confided in them a lot and they're only trying to protect me.” She defended you. “Which I appreciate,” she turns to address you directly, “but it's not necessary. Besides, what's another fake wedding?” She looked at Peeta who appeared to be very displeased by the news. 
“Excuse me,” Peeta rose from his seat and left the room. Katniss stood up and Haymitch stopped her. 
“Let him be,” the older man said gruffly. She sat back down as she watched the door. 
“Perfect!” Plutarch clapped his hands. “Perfect! We'll get a move on. We only have a couple of weeks to pull this off!” He gathered his notes and walked off with his team. 
You didn’t want any part of the fake wedding because it made you uncomfortable. The thought of making the two teenagers continue to put on a show when they still didn't know what they wanted. It also made you look at the president of District 13 differently. When you first arrived, you thought she wanted true change. As you got to work under her for an extended period of time you began to question if she was just as power hungry as Snow was. 
Unfortunately, you couldn't stay away from the wedding party. Since District 12’s traditions weren't something that were celebratory or entertaining enough. They are private and intimate. And there isn’t enough in District 13 to spare for a Captiol type wedding. It was too risky to hold it in the woods which is something that comes from the District 7 traditions. Finnick offered up District 4 traditions which are a little more extravagant than District 12 but were doable compared to District 7 and Capitol traditions. That brought on your involvement in the whole endeavor. You kept trying to pass responsibilities off to Finnick but he was having to catch up on training since it’d been close to a year since he was rotting away in the infirmary. 
Wanda thought your wedding planning persona was cute. She’d never seen you throw yourself into something so much before. Considering that before the rebellion she only saw you for a few hours every few months, she was happy to learn about any side of you. She kissed your cheek when you were doing a seating chart that made the most sense visually.
“Is this how you'll be when we get married?” Wanda asked as she leaned her head against your shoulder. 
“Oh, we're going to get married, are we?” You retorted as you erased a name from the chart and wrote it somewhere else. 
Wanda rubbed your other shoulder as she smiled. “Of course we are,” she kisses your cheek again. “I don't join rebellions for just anyone, you know?”
You made a face. “I thought you did this for Pietro.” She walked in front of you and sat on your lap as she wrapped her arms around your neck. 
“What happened to him made me realize how unfair the system is and I wished I could do something to change it.” She held your face in her hands and played with your hair as she held your eye contact. You loved getting lost in those enchanting hazel green eyes. “I didn't get involved until the night I realized I loved you. I remember it so vividly, I nearly thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.” She grabbed your hand and held it over her chest. She shook her head. “You were fast asleep but for a moment I couldn't tell if you were breathing. Then I imagined that you died and just the mere thought,” her eyes teared up and you reached up with your free hand to cradle her face. “I never thought I was capable of loving someone as much as I love you.” 
You felt yourself getting choked up by her confession of love. “I, wow,” you reacted with tears on the brim of your eyes. “I had no idea you felt so deeply about me.” You pressed your hand against her chest. “I am lucky that you trust me with your heart.” You leaned your head against hers and closed your eyes. “I hope I'm worth all of this death and destruction to you.” 
Wanda nuzzled against you and pulled you closer to her at your words. “You are worth the hope of a brighter future. That's what I'm fighting for.” The two of you held onto each other for a long time. You got lost in the moment with her. You felt your  heart beat in time with hers. Even though she didn't want to marry you at the time, you felt as though your souls connected that day as a promise of forever. 
At the wedding, everyone read from scripts that Effie and Plutarch wrote together. It was a cheesy and silly wedding. There were moments that made the event feel real. Like when Peeta teared up as Katniss was walked down the aisle by her sister, Primrose. Or when Katniss got choked up and went off script at the start. Not a single word she said was fabricated. Peeta didn't read his lines either.
The unifying kiss lasted a bit longer than it should have. It made you happy to see that Katniss was making a complicated situation a little less complicated. She looked happy. So did Peeta. So did everyone else. The celebration after felt real. People danced and sang. You and Wanda got to have a moment on the dance floor as well. You held her so close as the two of you swayed together at a slow song. You moved with her as the dance became a little more elaborate and the music became upbeat. There was laughter where there used to be quiet whispers. It was a bright occasion. 
Which was nice to have the memory of the celebration when the war began to take a turn. The Capitol had yet to be overturned. They began to draft as many able bodied men and women to become Peacekeepers in order to infiltrate the more radicalized districts. Attacking when they least expected. 
In Thirteen, they began to release soldiers that passed their final exams to districts the second they passed. At a certain point it began to feel like they rigged the system in order to send the troops out as fast as possible. There were, however, certain soldiers that couldn't leave for a reason or another. Like Pietro was an asset to the war room which they kept him locked away in for the majority of his days. Or if a soldier had a certain medical condition that prevented them from leaving. 
You didn't feel that you were ready when you finished your exam but you sat in your living quarters as you stared at your assignment. Wanda walked in after her exam and sat on the bed with you. She laid her head on your shoulder as she frowned down at your papers. “That's what one of those looks like,” she muttered. You made a face as you noticed she was empty handed. 
“You're not going on a mission?” You asked as you moved your arm to set your hand on her hip. 
“No,” she said as she nuzzled into your side more. “I didn't pass. I, um, I guess they found… something,” she shook her head and pulled away from you. “I have a medical condition that prevents me from going.” 
Your eyes widened with fear. “What’s wrong, Wanda? Are you going to be okay?” 
Wanda smiled with tears in her eyes, “I'm going to be just fine. Don't you worry about me. I-” She was interrupted by a knock. 
Commander Boggs stood at the door with two other soldiers. “I'm here to personally retrieve you. It seems as though the Mockingjay made plans of her own yesterday. We leave in a half hour. Say your goodbyes now.” He stepped away and shut the door as a courtesy. 
You turned to Wanda with a pounding heart. You didn't want to leave without knowing that you would be coming back to her. “Wanda, I love you. I can't lose you. Please tell me, this medical condition isn't serious.” 
Wanda held both of your hands in hers. “Y/n. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I will tell you everything when you come back to me. Because you will come back to me, right?” 
You nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. Then you kissed her lips and memorized the way her soft lips felt against yours. With your eyes closed, you leaned your forehead against hers and whispered, “I will always come back to you.” You promised just as Boggs knocked on the door to signal that it was time. You pulled your medallion out of your pocket and handed it to Wanda. “This has always been my good luck charm. I want you to have it.” Wanda shook her head but you put it in her hand and closed her fingers into a fist as you stood up to leave. You reminded her that you loved her. She told you that she loved you as tears streamed down her face. 
The Star Squad was assembled and meant to be safe from any combat. The group was meant to be filmed not to engage in real battle. The team wasn't even supposed to exist but with Katniss cutting her honeymoon short and sneaking off to the Capitol on her own, Coin was forced to make it look like that was her idea. You couldn't be mad, Katniss wanted Snow dead. Everyone did. But you were a little upset that she didn't include you in the plan once you found out that Peeta and Johanna helped her escape. 
The team moved through the rundown Capitol with precaution, using a device nicknamed the Holo. It mapped out and scanned for PODs, which were unpredictable traps planted throughout the streets. You couldn't believe what had become of the once vibrant city. You knew where Wanda’s home was from where you stood, no matter where you were. You remember taking long walks with her through the city during your time with her. The two of you were always in some ridiculous disguise to allow for privacy. 
She would race you when she was in a playful mood. The two of you would accidentally knock into others with childish snickers. Other times, you would spot a cheesy gift at one of the many stands at the market. You would buy her something that you knew she'd hate in order to share a laugh then surprise her with something she'd love. You eventually found out that she kept both types of gifts in a box under a floorboard under her bed. 
It was one of the signs that let you know she loved you. 
You think about her when Homes and Mitchell are blown up. The explosion was loud and had your ears ringing. Gale had to grab you by your vest to get you running as guns were firing. The team ran to hide in three different buildings. Katniss and Gale used their explosive arrows to blow up the Peacekeepers vehicles before they could use their explosives against the Star Squad. 
Boggs and Jackson were able to get everyone directed into a single building and reconvene. They agreed that the best course of action was to retreat back to base but Katniss cut in with her personal mission, claiming it was Coin's assignment. “I was sent here to kill Snow. Coin wants us to broadcast the entire thing in order to get the Peacekeepers to surrender,” she wasn't convincing but no one was in a position to argue when the team was closer to the Presidential Mansion than they were to safety. 
Boggs didn't challenge her. He agreed to follow her lead. He projected the map of the city to show that the number of PODs had grown. The best chance was underground. Pollux, a former avox turned rebel cameraman and soldier, volunteered his knowledge from the years of experience he had working in the sewer system of the Capitol.
You had to pretend that the water that you sloshed through was the ocean that you once played in as a child. “Thinking about home?” Finnick asked you as he nudged your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you responded, “you?” 
He nodded his head, “although this smell isn't making it easy. I miss that sea salt smell. I didn't mind tasting that air.” 
“Aw man,” you shook your head as you remembered the crystal blue sea. “When all of this is over, the first thing I'm doing is taking Wanda to Four. She deserves a nice beach day after everything she's been through.” 
“I think we all do,” Finnick added. “But don't worry, I won't be too needy when I come along. Not like you were.” His joke hit you harder than it was meant to. It felt like a different life. You invaded Finnick and Annie's home because you couldn't be alone. You joined them on their dates whenever you needed the company. Annie took care of you whenever she was capable of doing so. She was such a great person. She didn't deserve to go the way she did.
“It's okay, I deserve it,” you patted his back. He hugged you from the side while the both of you continued to walk through the sewers. You missed him so much while he was lost. You were happy to have him back. You hoped that one day he would move on because that's what Annie would have wanted. 
The team eventually found a dry space to rest for a few hours. You were the first on the watch rotation. You were jumpy. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that warned you. In the moment, you ignored it. When you fell asleep after you woke up Boggs, you continued to ignore the feeling. 
Then you woke up to screams and being shoved. Katniss was shoving you awake. Everyone ran out of the dry space and ran through the tunnels as they were chased by mutts. You tried to shoot at the mutts but you couldn't slow down enough to aim. Directions were being shouted out and in the hysteria the team members that weren't being mauled by the faceless creatures ran into an area that was meant for maintenance workers. Several of them ran up a ladder to escape. Just as Katniss was about to climb, a creature took her down which sent you and Peeta running to her rescue. Finnick was shouting from the opening for everyone to hurry. 
With your trident you were able to fend off the creatures in front of you but it was Johanna that managed to protect you from behind. Katniss and Peeta managed to get the creatures away from them with Gale's help as well as yours and Johanna's. Katniss ran up the ladder first, followed by Peeta, then Johanna. It was you and Gale that were next when another wave of mutts came rushing through. You tried to climb up as fast as you could to allow Gale the time to climb but both of you were caught by the wave. Just as you were being pulled up by Peeta, your legs were caught by a mutt and had you dragged back down. 
If it hadn't been for your special trident, you wouldn't have made it out of the sewers alive. You managed to save what was left of Gale. His right leg was shredded and gushing blood. The two of you crawled through the tunnels together and managed to catch up with what was left of the team. Katniss looked relieved but the feeling didn't last long as a bullet fired and hit Gale in the head. You had been the one holding him up as it happened. His blood and his brains painted your face. 
“Run!” You shouted as more Peacekeepers appeared. Katniss was in shock, you had to grab her as you ran through the parking garage. Deadly light beams flashed from the ceiling at random. The first one took down Messalla. He turned to dust as fast as the light touched him. “Run!” You screeched at the top of your lungs again as the floor shredded behind the Leeg sisters. Leeg 2 tripped over herself and fell into the blades. Leeg 1 turned as she heard her sister's cries, that split second of hesitation took her life. 
Finally, the lights stopped as did the blades and the remaining members of the Star Squad were running out of the death trap and into the dark streets of the Capitol. There were digital and physical posters everywhere of the rebels' faces, including yours and the other former victors. There didn't seem to be a place to hide. The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you jumping at every sound as you tried to think of where to hide. 
“I know where we are,” Cressida said breathlessly, “I know where to go.” She guided the team to a clothing shop. A woman with tiger-like features answered the door and rushed everyone inside. She brought the team of rebels into the basement. You took careful steps as you observed the space with your weapon drawn. Cressida, Castor, and Pollux were already standing around the basement. When you deduced that it was safe, you collapsed on the last step. 
You woke up with a gasp of air, startled by the delicate touch of the woman that was hosting you. She had been stitching a gash on your bicep when you woke up. You frowned as she retreated. You knew her but you couldn't remember how before you slipped back into unconsciousness. The adrenaline had deserted your body, leaving it exhausted without an ounce of energy. 
“Wanda,” you muttered as you felt someone cradling your face in their hands. You leaned into the touch and forced your eyes open, anxious to see the love of your life. It was Johanna that you saw instead. She was wiping your face with a wet cloth. “Oh, it's you,” you muttered as you shut your eyes again. 
“Shut up, you know you're happy to see me,” she said softly as she continued to clean your face. “Finnick made it. So did the two love birds. Cressida and her bugs are alive too,” she quietly informed you.
You tried to swallow a lump forming in your throat but the emotions hit you too hard to hide them. “I couldn't save him,” you said through your tears. Johanna nodded as she continued to clean Gale's blood from your face with a frown as tears built up in her eyes. She cared about you a lot and it hurt her to see you fall apart like that. You stopped crying and sat up as you felt guilty for the display of emotion when everyone in the room had lost people. You weren't even close with Gale. It just sucked with how hard you fought to keep him alive and just when you thought you had, he was gone before you or anyone could do anything. 
You looked around the room and saw Finnick cleaning the blades of his trident. Cressida, Pollux, and Castor were tinkering with an old model of a Capitol television. Katniss and Peeta were holding each other as they slept. Her nose was red and her cheeks were stained with tears. You were certain were shed for the loss of her former hunting partner and best friend. 
“When do you think we'll continue?” You asked Johanna with a mouth full of a sandwich she'd handed you. 
She took a slow breath as she considered her answer. “When the next opportunity presents itself. We're in too deep to turn back now.” You nodded as you chewed. 
Pollux cheered as he managed to repair the television. A mandatory broadcast that invited all Capitol citizens to Snow's mansion gave the opportunity to infiltrate the mansion. But it was only safe for two people to go. You were the first to volunteer. Katniss was the second. Peeta protested but Katniss was able to convince him that it had to be her. His prosthetic leg was broken, he couldn't take your place even if Katniss wasn't able to talk him down.  Finnick almost talked you out of going but he didn't see the point.
“When Wanda asks, I tried to take your place,” Finnick said as he helped you get dressed up. 
“Oh if I ever tell her this story, you did take my place,” you joked. He patted your shoulder as he agreed with a grin. He adjusted the holster with the trident inside so that it was still hidden but gave you easy access. Then he handed you a stolen Peacekeeper rifle and helped you hide it under the heavy coat. “If this goes south, tell her I'm sorry and that I love her,” you told Finnick with fear in your eyes. 
Finnick sighed, “Things will go south if you think like that.”
“Promise me that you'll tell her,” you stated firmly. He agreed to deliver the message. “And make sure that when all of this is over and we come out on top that she is taken care of. If they still give us our winnings, make sure she gets mine. And that she can have my place in Four. Make sure that you disable all of the bugs,” you speak urgently as if you don't tell him these things now, no one will ever know your last wishes. 
“Y/n,” Finnick looked you in the eye with worry, “Should I take your place? You have a life to start after this. I don't. Maybe I should-” 
“There's no time,” Tigris warned as she rushed away from the windows. “You and Katniss have to leave now.” 
You nodded and turned back to Finnick, “I'll be fine I just want to make sure that Wanda is taken care of just in case.” Finnick nodded as he agreed to ensure that Wanda was taken care of. 
“But you're going to come back, and you're going to take care of her yourself, okay?” Finnick encouraged as he hugged you. You closed your eyes as you stood in his arms before you stepped away and turned to see Katniss and Peeta saying their goodbyes. They shared a kiss and you looked away as you felt like you were imposing in a private moment. 
“Katniss, we better go,” you said as you put your hood over your head. She nodded as she stepped away from her twice faux husband. 
Together, the two of you walked out into the crowded street. You kept your head down enough to not get noticed but not so much to have your view obstructed. You and Katniss got pretty close to the gates, it made your heart pound so hard that you could hardly hear anything. But with each step closer, you grew more confident that you'd be able to pull this off. Then you saw Peacekeepers were pulling hoods down. In a panic, you and Katniss turned around only to find more soldiers pulling hoods down. So you both turned back towards the pit before the gate where they were separating children from their parents. 
You lost your confidence as you couldn't figure out where to go from there. You were both trapped. Then guns started firing. “It's the rebels!” Someone shouted and you pushed Katniss ahead of you to get her closer to the gates. Your hood fell and Peacekeepers charged towards you. With all of the innocent civilians around, you didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire so you dropped the rifle and pulled out the trident. 
You fought off the Peacekeepers as you saw rebel trucks rolling through the crowd. A small boy ran up to you and kicked you in the knee as you fought off Peacekeepers. The small distraction allowed a Peacekeeper to get the upper hand on you as he took your trident from you and tried to stab you through the chest with it. But because of the programming that Tony and Beetee did to the weapon, the blade disappeared before it could harm you and the part of the staff that he was holding heated until he dropped the weapon. You caught the trident as it fell and stabbed him through the chest. 
You pulled it out and rushed to find Katniss when everyone stopped as Capitol hovercrafts loomed over the pit of children and dropped parachutes as if they were gifts from sponsors. The children reached out to them in excitement. You had just found Katniss when the parachutes exploded. 
The two of you fell back and you hit your head hard on a broken piece of concrete. Everything went to black as you heard nothing but screams. 
When you woke up, you were in a hospital. It was white and bright. You'd been in there before but not in District 13. This was the hospital in the Capitol. Your heart picked up with fear until you realized that your hand was being held by Wanda as she slept in a chair by your bedside. 
Your heart rate on the monitor slowed down as you calmed. You wiggled your fingers to try and bring circulation back to them. As you did, you felt the familiar shape of your medallion pressing against the palm of your hand. Wanda sat up as she felt you move. “Oh thank goodness!” She cheered as she finally saw your eyes open. She leaned in and kissed on the mouth then she leaned her forehead against yours with closed eyes. “You came back to me,” she whispered. 
“I promised, didn't I?” You replied with a raspy voice. 
She laughed through the tears that started to fall in her relief. “You can't make that promise again because you're never leaving my side again. Do you hear me? Never,” she demanded as she pulled back to look at you. Her eyes danced as they scanned your features. “Our child needs you almost as much as I do,” she said in a broken whisper. 
“Our what?” Your eyes widened at the news and then it clicked for you. That's the condition she was in that she couldn't leave Thirteen on assignment for. Wanda nodded as she wiped her tears. 
“We can talk more after the doctor sees you,” she said as she hit a button on the wall. You couldn't believe the news. You couldn't believe that the rebels had won. You had no idea that when you were knocked out by the concrete that you would be waking up in a new and free world. It was not how you saw the war ending, but you didn't mind. You were happy it was over.
The rebels won but President Coin didn't. She wanted to implement a version of the Hunger Games with only Capitol children. Any child born in the Capitol or from a female Capitol citizen would be eligible in the first reaping. First. That word led you to believe that there would be future games. That made your future child eligible. You voted against it. But unfortunately, the votes for it outweighed those against. You hadn't realized that Katniss was angry about the loss of her sister until you heard about Prim’s death. 
Then at the ceremony where she was supposed to shoot President Snow with an arrow, her aim went a bit higher and instead pierced President Coin in the heart with her arrow. A rush of people fled towards the stage to aid Coin as she fell to the front of it. Snow laughed himself to death as he choked on his own blood. Katniss was about to eat a nightlock pill before Peeta took it from her. She was then taken into custody. You couldn't see her for days while a committee discussed her fate. 
You did speak to her character when the committee brought you in for questioning. In the footage of the day, they caught a moment between the two of you when she looked at you and you looked away with a disappointed expression. They used that to accuse you of knowing that she planned on killing the president. You revealed Coin’s shocking plans for the future Capitol Games. You didn't go into the details of the disagreement, you only revealed that there was one. 
She was sent to District 12 on conditions that you weren't clear on because they were highly confidential. But there were rumors. When you got the chance, you visited her to find out what she was thinking when she voted to have a new version of the Hunger Games and what she was thinking when she shot Coin instead of Snow. You had so many questions for her. But, when you found her in her home you decided that it didn't matter what her motivations were. She was lost in her grief. Peeta lived in the home he was awarded after their games and he said that he checked on her when she allowed it but there wasn't much else he could do for her other than keep her alive until she was ready to live again. 
You thanked him and offered your support whenever he or she needed it. Then you returned to District 4. There, you and Wanda were helping the district rebuild. She loved it in the district more than either of you thought she would. She was able to bond with the community better than she did when she was in the Capitol. Even her twin brother, Pietro, found a life for himself in District 4. 
The two of you didn't marry until after the baby was born. Well, babies. Wanda gave birth to Tommy and Billy in the new District 4 hospital that you helped build with a team of men and women and other non-gender conforming persons. They were the first boys to be born in the new world. The first baby to be born after the war was over was a girl. She was born a couple of months before the twins were born. 
You cried as you held your sons in your arms. Not only because there were so many close calls that almost prevented you from experiencing the moment. But because without the war, without the games, without all of the hardships, those boys wouldn't exist.  You never thought that you'd ever be grateful for the suffering you endure until you held your boys and thought of them as the reward. 
For the wedding Pietro and Johanna each carried one of the babies. Johanna was your best woman and Pietro was Wanda’s man of honor. Each baby had a ring that was attached to a pillow. Finnick officiated the ceremony. Many were in attendance, including a much healthier Katniss and Peeta. You attended their own private wedding ceremony a few years later. Surprisingly, a sober Haymitch Abernathy with a ring on his marital finger and a smile as he sat next to his wife, Effie Trinket. She didn't think Effie Abernathy had the same ring to it. Your wedding wasn't televised and you were grateful for the privacy as you and Wanda celebrated the union with the people that mattered in your lives. It wasn't a show for strangers to tune into or to be inspired by. It was just a fun night that celebrated love. 
Life was good.
But life wasn't good throughout the entire country. There were still people that weren't entirely happy with the changes that were being implemented. People were losing jobs. Not everyone had a home to return to and those that did had expected an upgrade for their troubles. Things weren't moving at the pace that everyone wanted. You carried a guilt for having such a peaceful life that you chose to get involved in anyway that you could.
“I have to go to the Capitol next week,” you sighed as you told Wanda with a frown while you laid with her in bed. 
“What for?” She asked as she sat up. 
“I have to meet with the head of the housing department to discuss a few things and offer my help,” you stated vaguely, you were tired and comfortable. You hardly had the energy to go into detail. 
“You have to be careful when you're there, I've heard that crime rates are high right now,” Wanda warned as she settled back against you. “Apparently there’s a group of former Peacekeepers that weren't too happy about losing their positions of power. They've been targeting people from the districts that live in or even visit the Capitol.”
“Please, I've survived an arena and a rebellion. I can handle a bunch of bigots,” you muttered. “But I hear you,” you kissed her cheek. “I'll be careful,” you promised with your eyes closed. “I love you,” you whispered as you started to fall asleep. 
Visiting the Capitol opened your eyes to how bad things had gotten there. It wasn’t the lively city it once was. It looked like any other district before the rebellion and before the rebuilds and renovations. You only saw so much from the back window of the vehicle you were being driven in. But it was more than enough to get your guard up. Your meeting went well with the woman in charge of the housing and other restorations throughout the districts. She was very receptive to your idea’s on the kinds of houses that people should be living in as well as the kinds of fundraising efforts that can be done and the jobs that could be made in each district. She loved the proposal you had put together and when the meeting was over, she invited you out to celebrate. You should have declined but you knew how important networking was for the project. She brought you to one of the more high end bars in the Capitol. The buildings that surrounded the bar were covered in tags and there were tents for the homeless across the street. You couldn't believe it had gotten so bad. 
As you celebrated with the woman, she introduced you to prospective investors. You chatted with many people throughout the night until you were ready to leave. But when you stepped out, the car you called for wasn't there. You looked around confused and that's when someone snuck behind you and pulled a sack over your head. 
You fought against them but more people came along. You couldn't see which made it difficult to tell how many people there were as you tried to fight them off without a weapon. Which one of them had. They hit the front of your knee hard enough to have you collapse to the ground. You were almost certain that they had shattered your kneecap. The group of them kicked and hit you from every direction until you stopped moving. 
Two of them lifted you up by your arms and dragged you to a truck. They drove you to the center of the city and strapped your wrists against the new Mockingjay statue. They burned the old Capitol emblem into your abdomen, then they left you to be found in the morning. 
By the time they brought you down from the statue, there was no saving you. 
Finnick found out from the news that morning. He ran over to your house to try and stop Wanda from turning on the television but he was too late. He walked into the home and found her screaming on the floor as her brother held her. The image of you hanging on the Mockingjay statue was still on the screen. Finnick dropped to his knees and cried into his hands. 
Johanna found out in the home of a woman she'd met the night before. She ran out and got on the first train to Four to find out if the broadcast was just a scare tactic. It was the only thing the news showed all day. But she kept telling herself that it didn't even look like you. That it had to be a fake doll or something. But when she got to Four and found the home of distraught loved ones, she had to accept what she refused to believe. You were gone for good. Your six-year-old boys ran up to her with scared and confused expressions. They didn't know yet. She took them to their room to distract them until she could find out what Wanda was planning to do. 
Peeta was in the hospital when he found out. He asked the nurse to shut off the broadcast while Katniss slept. He shed silent tears as he held their daughter. He was supposed to call you the day before to tell you the news but he thought it couldn't hurt to wait a day. He didn't inform Katniss of your brutal passing until she was discharged from the hospital the next day. She was furious about the delay. 
Haymitch read about the incident in the newspaper. He sat up in his lounge chair, getting ready to tell Effie but she walked into the living room with a tear streaked face and fell into his lap. The older couple held each other tight as they mourned the tragic loss of their friend. 
President Paylor wasn't putting up with the violence in the country from that point. It wasn't the way you imagined making a difference, but your death was not in vain. It opened the eyes to the public and to the government how society was failing. How things hadn't changed enough. Harsh laws were implemented to put a stop to the hate crimes that were being done throughout the country. Rewards were given to those that turned in the murders that committed the acts. It was a sort of witch hunt but the end result was a peaceful Panem. 
When it came to finding the group of people that murdered you, it took a couple years longer than your wife liked. There was a trial. And when they were appointed guilty, Wanda put in the request to be the one to take their lives. It was denied. She wasn't allowed to attend their execution. Finnick did, for her. She needed to hear that they were gone for good from someone she trusted. 
When he returned to Four that night, he confirmed that each of the people had been executed. Wanda broke down and cried in his arms because it didn't change anything for her. You were still gone. She was still angry. 
“You should have promised to come back to me,” she whispered to your grave stone as she kneeled in front of it. “You always came back when you made that promise.” She weaved your medallion between her fingers as she spoke. The action made her feel close to you. She watched you do it for many years. She thought she'd watch you do it for the rest of her life. Although you would have loved to have more time with her, you were grateful for the time that you did have with her. Because your death made a safer Panem for her and your loved ones. 
Though significant sacrifices were made, in the end, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing. 
Or would you?
The Tribute
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jrow · 16 hours
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May Prompt (22)
Day 21 here. Start from the beginning here.
Night
The night has always been his saviour.
No matter how bad things are, he’s always known he’ll survive if he makes it to the night.
As a child, the night provided refuge from the people he didn’t understand and expectations he could never meet.
By university he knew the language of the masses, but also knew they would never understand his. The nights alone—away from the judgment and ridicule of his peers—were the main reason he survived.
As an adult, nights are where he’s done his best thinking, the dark and quiet acting as a catalyst for creative thinking and snowballing of ideas. Most people lose their grasp of reality at night, with anxiety and self doubt taking over. It’s the opposite for him—the answers, the truth, often become clear when the rest of the world is asleep.
When he was on the run, the nights kept him sane. It was only under dark skies that he allowed himself to think of home. To think of John. To imagine fairytales of what might await his return. He always knew they were just fantasies, but they kept him going.
These past few days, night has served as his North Star, his goal. God, he loves Rosie, but …. well, after dealing with the chaos that is a toddler, it’s nice to love her when she’s quieting and sleeping like an angel.
This evening has been … a challenge. There is a ten step process for bedtime. Each step is absolutely essential—as he learned the hard way that time he tried to skip step six, walking the dirty clothes the hamper. Tonight, Rosie fought every step of the routine and it took nearly an hour and a half.
He understands why. It was a day of “big feelings” for the both of them. The three of them, actually. Because John is home.
John was discharged in the late afternoon and Rosie had been a ball of excited nervous energy since then. Lots of jumping. Lots of falling. Lots of smiles. Lots of tears. Lots of everything.
Lots.
He had insisted on doing bedtime. It was better for him everyone. Rosie has gotten used to him over the past few days and John is still … well … fragile in a way. John had put up a cursory argument but was tired himself and quickly acquiesced.
And now, Rosie is asleep and she is safe. When she wakes, she will be precocious and funny and perfect. That he has had some hand in that may be his greatest achievement.
He closes the door to her room and makes his way to John’s. Now that Rosie is sleeping—now that it is night—he has time to work on the case.
It’s funny in a way how things change. If something like this had happened when he first met John, he would have left him alone in the hospital and been off working on the case immediately. Wouldn’t even have heard about the assassination attempt. If this had happened after knowing John for a year, he would have kidnapped John from the hospital so they could work on the case together, health consequences be damned. If this had happened around the time John got married, he would have spent every second focused on finding the man who attempted to murder John. Then he would have killed him. Then he would have solved the case. Then he would have visited John.
But now … well, solving the case is important but it’s hardly the priority. At least not during the day when the world is awake. But now it’s night.
John should be going to sleep—the man is clearly exhausted. But the fool wants to help. So they struck a deal. They would work together in John’s room, with John lying in bed. He is sure John will fall asleep in no time.
“I thought I’d start going through the pile of new surveillance footage,” John says through a yawn.
Yes, John will be asleep in within 5 minutes.
“Good idea, I’ll go through the case files. Something connects these stores, I just need to find out what,” he says, plopping down in the chair at the foot of the bed.
He had thought the thefts were random—crimes of opportunity—but now he sees everything was planned to a t. Which means the stores, and the order they were targeted, were picked for a reason.
Ten minutes later, John drops the tablet he’s been watching before startling awake.
“Go to bed, John,” he says quietly, picking up the tablet and gently moving it to the side table.
“Mmmkay,” says John, laying his head on his pillow before mumbling, “big plans tomorrow.”
“What’s that?” he asks quietly, not expecting an answer.
But he gets one, mumbled as it is. “We should go for cake. Three of us. Is the weekend. Cake then gift.”
He freezes. The gift. He’d almost forgotten. It seems like so long ago. It seems like it just happened.
“We don’t need to…” he starts, but stops as he sees John is asleep.
God damn it, Mycroft is right. He hates when Mycroft is right. He needs to tell John the truth about the chase. About John’s fall. He needs a do over or whatever the hell the term is. If he tells John, then maybe he can open that damn gift without his guilt eating him alive.
He picks up the tablet to move it to the sitting room. The screen wakes up, revealing the final image John was looking at. A young couple at the counter in New Cavendish, looking at rings, presumably. A uniformed constable is leaving.
His eyes go wide and he drops the tablet, diving to get the case notes he was just reading. Yes, there it is. The owner of Cox and Power explaining the store had been visited by a friendly unnamed constable the day the store was robbed.
He drops to the floor and crosses his legs, arranging all the notes so they are laid out in front of him. The sound of John snoring softly acting as his soundtrack.
It’s time to work.
@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty
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bullet-prooflove · 2 hours
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Beachside: Travis Wheatley x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow
Companion piece to:
The Circuit - You're the first person Travis tells about his condition.
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Travis doesn’t plan the trip to the beach, it’s just something that happens while the two of you are travelling through Georgia. You’ve been driving along the coast for almost a week now and it occurs to Travis that he can’t remember the last time he actually felt sand underneath his feet.
It’s five in the morning when he pulls up into the vacant car lot. He tells the other guys to take the trailer and carry on without, he’ll catch up with them later. He leaves you sleeping in the passenger seat, his lips brushing over your temple before he shuts the door quietly behind him. The sun is just starting to rise in the distance, he can see the streaks of orange in the sky as the light plays along the soothing waves.
He strips off his boots and then his socks, smiling at the sensation of his feet sinking into the sand. There’s something so cathartic about being near water, he’s always thought that. He doesn’t get much of a chance at home, there’s a couple of lakes a few hours away from his ranch but nothing like this.
The rest of his clothes come off then, his jeans, his shirt, his underwear. He leaves a trail of them across the sand before he steps into the cool water, immersing himself. The sensation it’s bracing, it sends a spike of exhilaration through his muscles as he swims out a few meters before ducking his head under the water.
There’s silence underneath the surface, the noise in his head vanishes and there’s nothing but vastness in that moment. He doesn’t think about his diagnosis, that he barely has a year left in him.
When he comes up for air, it’s the most alive he’s felt in months.
You’re waiting for him on the beach when he finally decides to return to the shore, with a fresh set of clothes and a clean towel. He takes it appreciatively, wrapping it around his waist before he sits down along side of you, the droplets of water still running down his bare chest.
“You didn’t want to join me?” He asks you, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he stares out across the ocean.
“I thought you may need a little time for yourself.” You tell him, your thumb playing over the worry bracelet on your wrist, the one that he gave you a couple of years back when you’re ex-husband had come back on the scene and was causing all sorts of mischief.
You’ve been playing with it a lot lately, every time he falters, or you hear him vomiting in the bathroom. He hates that he’s doing this to you, that he’s the reason behind your anxiety. When the time comes, when he gets too sick to function, he’s going to disappear, take himself off somewhere private so you don’t have to watch him die.
“Yea. It’s been hard to make peace with it.” He says quietly before he tilts his head towards you. “I don’t want to leave this earth with any regrets but I don’t feel like there’s enough time to rectify all the stupid shit I’ve done over the years.”
“You need to let it go.” You tell him as you nudge his shoulder lightly with your own. “What you did in the past it doesn’t matter, you have to focus on the time you have left.”
The edges of his mouth tip up into a smile as he looks at you. You are everything to him, the sun, the moon, the stars. He’d give you everything if he could, every single part of him.
“Let’s skip the rodeo today.” He says quietly, his fingers interlacing with yours. “Let’s just spend the rest of the day here instead.”
Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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rashoumon-homo · 4 months
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I feel like we as a fandom don’t talk about this scene enough
*sobbing* HE WAS MAKING HIM A BALLOON DOG 😭😭😭
HE JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH Q 😭💔
AND HE WAS TRYING THE ONLY WAY HE KNEW HOW 💔😭🥺
*louder sobbing*
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da-proti-toku-grem · 20 days
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how do you know the difference between a huge anxiety attack and a panic attack?
#i think i had a panic attack yesterday but idk......#god it felt so awful and it went on for like 3 hours#but i also had like a hundred things going on so idk if it was like the accumulation of everything or if it was really a panic attack yk#i was at the fair with my family waiting for my best friend to arrive bc i was going to hang out with her#and yk it's a place full of people and we were standing right next to a huge speaker hearing a man talk#and also each place in the fair has different music playing super loud and you can hear all of them at the same time (+ the flashing lights#all that causes me anxiety every since i was little (even if i didn't know it was anxiety back then)#so i *knew* i was going to have the greatest time and i didn't really want to go there in the first place#but even with that i wasn't really haven't a bad time (yet)#we were just stading there and i was waiting for my friend to call me so we could go somewhere else#she called me to tell me she was coming and right when i hung up the phone i felt a really strong pang on my belly#and idk at first i thought it was period cramps but it was weird bc my period had actually stopped that same morning#also i had taken a painkiller right before going there bc all that i mentioned earlier also gives me migraines so there's that too#so yeah the pangs kept getting stronger and it hurt so fucking bad to the point my legs started trembeling#my vision blured and every sound around me seemed to almost fade away#there wasn't any place i could sit down so i gad to cling to my dad and he had to hold me so i didn't fall to the ground#i think i almost (?) fainted in his arms too#after a while the dizzines went away and my dad went to get me smth to drink and i mostly got my hearing and vision back to normal#all that was like 10 minutes max but then the pangs kept hitting every minute or so for the next 3 hours#we found a place to sit and find smth to eat but i couldn't eat anything without wanting to throw up#my legs wouldn't stop shaking like fucking crazy and i kept going from feeling like i was freezing to sweating from how hot i felt#idk i've had smth like this (w/o the pangs) happen to me before a bunch of times but never That strong and it usually lasted 5-10min max#we ended up having to go home and i had to take some more painkillers and my sleeping pills to be able to calm down a little#i'm pretty sure i fell asleep from exhaustion after everything and i'm still feeling a bit weird after almost 24 hours since it happened#anyways. the thing is idk if all that was caused bc of my anxiety#or if it was smth completely unrelated and i just had such a bad tummy ache that it made me feel bad enough to cause All That yknow#i think it felt pretty much like how i've heard people describe a panic attack but again i'm not sure#yeah.........#maca speaks
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puhpandas · 9 months
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Take Me Home 1, 2
(to see new chapters release, sub on ao3 :))
(3227 words)
When Cassie wakes for the second time, it's not with a pounding head and limbs as heavy as iron. No. This time, her awareness of the world rolls in smoothly, and all she feels when she wakes fully is faint buzzing throughout her body.
She revels in it; the fact that theres no pain. She doesn't think too hard about why, she just shifts, moving to stretch her limbs, but hisses when going to move her arm sends a wave of soreness pain up her arm.
She grits her teeth, yelping and suddenly re-entering the world fully when the pain throws her into alertness.
Her eyes shoot open, and she moves to sit up in bed, heart racing when all she can remember is last being in the dark, dingy, falling apart Pizzaplex, but she calms when all she can see is someone's bedroom.
"...Huh?" She mumbles, her mind still not having fully caught up to her yet. She glances around the room, painted a pale blue, with furniture tucked against the neighboring walls and flowing curtains covering most of the sunlight filtering through the window, a light breeze ruffling them.
Movement catches her attention in the corner of her eye, and she glances over just in time for Gregory to snort awake, eyes trailing across her, not really seeing her, until they blow wide in recognition.
"Cassie!" Gregory exclaims, rushing to stand up from the position he was in where he had been sitting in a chair, laying his head in his arms, hunched over on the bed. "You're finally awake!"
Cassie feels her heart warm when she realizes that Gregory had been waiting for her to wake up by her bedside, never leaving her prescence. Long enough for him to fall asleep. Her heart slows to a normal rate when she sets eyes on him, immediately feeling at ease, and she breaths a deep breath, shifting to sit up more and allowing Gregory to help her when he rushes over.
She hisses when the movement jostles her leg and arm, and she finally takes a good look at them, realizing that at some point, in her sleep, her cardigan had been taken off, leaving her in her button-up, and her shoes and socks had been discarded, leaving her in her dark purple tights and shorts.
Gregory notices her staring at her foot, which is propped up on a pillow, peeking out from under the thick comforter, with some sort of makeshift splint made from cloth wrapped around the ankle.
"We had to improvise." He informs her, that lopsided grin Cassie'd always see in her dreams and on her homemade missing posters stretched on his face. "Ness cant exactly take the chance of getting involved with authority."
Cassie furrows her brows, her mind still kind of foggy from her -what she guesses- long sleep. "Ness?"
Gregory perks up. "Oh. It's a nickname we use for Vanessa a lot. Y'know, that blonde girl that was with us in the pizzeria?"
Cassie nods in recognition, remembering her blonde ponytail with rainbow streaks. "Yeah, um... how exactly did--"
She gets cut off when the door clicks open, and speak of the devil. "Oh, you're awake." Vanessa peeks her head in the room, a smile on her face when she sees Cassie sitting up and awake. "We were just making dinner, and I wanted to see if you were up."
"Um..." Cassie trails off. "Dinner?" She settles on.
Gregory senses her uncertainty, and settles a hand on her shoulder. "Vanessa's makin' chicken alfredo. And since you're awake, now you can finally eat."
Her stomach rumbles as if on queue, and her cheeks redden. Gregory has no problem laughing at her. "How long has it been?"
Cassie tries to think. "A few hours before you came and got me, since I ran to the Pizzaplex as soon as I got the message. So... that plus however long I slept for."
"Eighteen hours." Vanessa supplies helpfully.
Cassies eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Eighteen hours?!" She exclaims.
Gregory laughs, and Vanessa just looks at her with a crooked smile that reminds her of Gregory's. "Yup. You were exhausted physically and emotionally, and were injured, kiddo. The fact that you slept for so long checks out."
Gregory giggles. "Remember when we first got back, you slept for twenty-one."
Vanessa rolls her eyes. "I think I had a perfectly good reason to sleep the whole day away. Unlike you." She points two fingers from her eyes to Gregory. "Its not my fault you have the same amount of energy as a hyperactive dog."
"You mentioned a dog! So is the dog talk working?" Gregory asks, smugly. "Come on, Ness. Just concede. Its only a matter of time before you cave."
Cassie just watches, unsure of what to do when Gregory and Vanessa talk. Theres a grin on Gregory's face, not one she's used to. Not like the mischievous, pointed ones when Gregory was brewing something up, or the slight, hopeful ones, when Cassie would talk about when they got older, and she and Gregory could work towards getting a car and finally being able to give Gregory a life where he doesnt have to worry, and they can just live. Just a few more years, they'd always say.
This one is easy. Its gentle, with no kind of edge to be detected, and it looks so right on his face. It doesn't look forced, it doesnt look rare. Cassie can tell just by looking that Gregory has smiled like this often, and hes been allowed to be used to it. To smile without the quirk of worry.
It warms Cassies heart, to see that theres been change. But it also hurts.
Because he'd been away for so long, and although Cassie is so, so glad to have him back, she can't help but wonder why he never reached out to her. If he'd been able to smile so easily like this, while she couldn't muster one at times, too empty from his absence.
"I can barely take care of you and Freddy, kid." Vanessa points out, and Cassie is thrown back into reality. "And now I got another destroyed animatronic to fix and another kid. Not even mentioning a dog."
Cassie gasps, big and sudden at Vanessa's words. "Roxy!" She exclaims, and she winces when her voice rasps, and her dry throat burns from dehydration. "Roxy! Where is she? Is--Is she okay?!"
When Cassie starts to shift, arms moving to roll the comforter off of herself and somehow leave the bed, Gregory and Vanessa both rush to gently push her back down.
"Its okay, Cassie." Gregory says in that soft voice of his where it feels like it's only reserved for Cassie. "Shes in parts and service. While you were asleep, we wanted to fix her up a little, so we took turns watching you and fixing Roxy up."
Cassie feels the tension melt off of her body when she hears that Roxy is here, and has been fixed a little, but she still furrows her brows in confusion at 'parts and service', because are they not in a house right now?
Cassie can see Vanessa roll her eyes and go to explain. "He means that shes in one of the spare rooms we use to work on animatronics." Vanessa tells her. "We used it to build Freddy a body, and once Freddy started calling it parts and service, Gregory jumped on it, and it just stuck."
Cassie nods slowly, taking in the influx of information that she cant fully sort through right now. "So thats why Freddy didnt have a head."
"Do you want to see her?" Gregory asks. "Roxy, I mean. I'm suprised she hasnt barged in here already. I had to fight her to get her to trust me and Ness enough to work on her and watch you."
Cassie smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Because Roxy is so worried about her, and Cassie is happy that she cares, but shes upset that Roxy and Gregory are so hostile towards eachother. "Yeah. Um. I would like to see her."
Gregory nods, and smiles. "Kay. She wont look the exact same, since I tried my best to restore her some, but at least she isnt about to fall apart."
Vanessa leaves the room with a curse, and Cassie ignores the slight burning smell coming from outside the door. "...Okay. Just... when you get her, can we have some alone time?"
Gregory nods, halfway out the door. "Okay. Sure. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay." She says, and then Gregory is gone.
Cassie breathes deep, playing with the frayed edges of the comforter when theres nothing else to do. She can hear the clattering of kitchen utensils from further in the house, and hushed voices.
The silence stretches further in her room, and when Gregory doesnt return, not right away, Cassie can feel her chest tighten, and something grip her lungs.
She breathes harshly through her nose, and notices how her hands begin to shake slightly.
Something grabs at her chest, something akin to panic, feeling like a giant hand and squeezing.
Gregory. Is all she can think about. He said he'd be right back. Where is he? He shouldn't have been gone this long, right?
Have I lost him again?
She squeezes her eyes shut, trying really hard to keep still, to keep calm, but her brain is jumbled, like its tied itself in knots, and all she can think about is how Gregory isn't here with her.
She has half the mind to get up, to tear through the house to search for him, to make sure she hasnt lost him again, that she wont have to look for him again. But one look at her ankle thats wrapped in cloth and she knows it isnt possible.
She makes a pitiful noise, breaths huffing out of her mouth now, short and heavy, and Gregory hasnt come back yet, and she cant do a thing about it.
It's only when Gregory pops his head back through the door, nudging it open with a creak that Cassie is ripped away from her thoughts and actually realizes how much shes panicking.
Gregory steps inside, a smile on his face, mouth open ready to speak, but it drops right off as soon as he sees Cassie.
Cassie cant find it in her to speak when Gregory rushes over to her, asking if shes okay. Her brain feels like its fogged over, or like its signal is blocked, and she cant think enough to respond to his questions.
All she can do is reach out to him when relief overwhelms her, enough for tears to slip past her lashes, and Gregory pauses in his rapid fire questions, seeming to understand something.
"I'm here, Cassie." He tells her, getting on the bed with her. He let's her wrap her arms around him and squeeze him as much as she needs when she moves to. "I'm not leaving again, okay? I'll be here with you. Nothings going to take me away from you. You arent going to lose me."
Cassie relishes in the reassurance. It reaches past all of the fog into some part of her brain, and it's like hosing down a wildfire. Her breathing slows down as she soaks up the feeling of Gregory right here, with her, and not going anywhere.
The panic that gripped her heart loosens some, and shes finally able to breathe, breathing deep breaths when Gregory does too.
"Sorry." She says after a moment, wiping at her eyes. "I dont... I dont know why that happened. I, um..."
"Separation anxiety." Gregory says, and Cassie startles. When shes finally able to unfuse herself with Gregory enough to look at his face, he has a knowing, serious expression on his face. "I had my rodeo with it, too... me and Freddy didnt have too good of a time with it."
Cassie furrows her brows, and it feels like she has ten thousand more questions added to the pile to ask, but Gregory stops her before she can speak.
"I'll tell you another time, okay?" He says, gesturing to the door where Roxy stands, waiting patiently for someone who was, when she last checked, willing to rip apart the guy Cassie just hugged to death. "Just... I promise I'll help you with it, okay? I dont think I'll be too different from you, after trying to reach you all night, and also..."
His eyes glaze over some, looking like a thousand different memories are playing over them, but he shakes it off, offering one more smile. "Itll be fine, okay? I'm gonna go make you a plate, cuz I think dinners ready, and you can talk to Roxy. Sound good?"
Cassie doesnt know what's wrong with her, because she almost tears up again at Gregory's words, because hes being so kind, and so understanding. She shouldn't be surpised, she guesses, Gregory had always found a way to catch her off guard with kindness when she'd been so used to being brushed off or disliked.
She nods, smiling back ag him, and he offers a thumbs up, moving past Roxy and shutting the door behind him.
It's only now that Cassies able to fully pay attention to Roxy, and she gasps, almost not recognizing her.
Before, she hadn't had anything resembling a face. Just her endoskeleton skull exposed due to broken casing. But now, she somehow has her face casing back. The colors are a little off, and it looks dusty and unused, but she looks like herself. Her last remaining strands of hair are fuller now, some new strands added. They've been shifted, too, styled to look adjacent to her old style, just shorter.
Her body isnt much different, one of her arms has its forearms back, a bright, clean purple compared to her filthy leg warmers, and she has her other foot back, just a larger size and different color.
But the most prominent change are definitely the eyeballs, glowing blue LED's, stuck securely in their sockets.
Cassie laughs disbelievingly, joyously, putting her hands up to her mouth with a wide smile.
"Roxy!" She exclaims. "You have eyes again!"
It's only now, when Roxy laughs along with her, that Cassie realizes her voice box has been replaced, too. Cassie laughs even more when Roxys voice filters through, sounding happy, instead of angry, no warbling or static to be found.
Roxy heads to her bedside, and shes walking much more surely, now. Not like her long, wide strides, always careful to not collide with something. She sways from side to side, ever confident in her looks.
"How do I look?" Roxy asks, fluttering her eyelashes now that she has some again and fluffing her new hairdo up with her hand. "The brat gave me a makeover."
Cassie giggles. "You look beautiful, Roxy."
"I know." Roxy says, but then turns her attention towards Cassie. "How are you doing, Speed racer?" Roxy asks, voice soft. "That elevator couldnt have felt good."
Cassie shakes her head, gesturing to her splinted arm and ankle. "Nope, but... Gregory and Vanessa fixed me up pretty good. I'm not hurting that much."
"I'm glad." Roxy smiles, because she can now.
It's just Cassie and Roxy, now. And like with Gregory, everything she'd been feeling, all the thoughts she'd been having all bubble up to the surface, and now that everyones here, and safe, she just wants to get it all out.
So Cassie furrows her brows, and goes to tell Roxy I'm sorry, I didnt want to, I shut you down and you still saved me, why? But before she can, the door clicks back open, and Gregory steps inside her room, balancing two plates on his hands.
"Dinners ready." He tells her, smiling, and Cassie doesn't know why shes suprised when after Gregory hands her her own plate, he crawls up on the bed with her.
So she doesnt voice it. She just smiles, a big, wide one, but still small and soft.
Vanessa walks inside the room with her own plate, and Freddy, looking everything like the home-built animatronic he is, follows behind her, extra pillows and blankets in his arms.
"I was thinking we have a movie night." Vanessa says, sitting in the same chair Gregory was when she first woke up. "Better than you having to sit in here bored, right, kid?"
Cassie nods, and her mouth waters when she catches a whiff of the chicken alfredo sitting in her lap.
Gregory snatches the remote from Vanessa, holding it away from her arms when she tries to take it back. The TV in front of them that she just now notices is in the room comes to life, Disney+ appearing on screen.
Gregory hands the remote to Cassie when Vanessa finally gives up, and shes able to pick the movie, putting on a happy, animated movie, where all the characters have their happy endings and nothing bad really ever happens.
The chicken alfredo was delicious, and they sat in her makeshift room, pillows and blankets built up like jenga around her to make her as comfortable as possible for hours, laughing together.
Cassies cheeks hurt by the end, and although shes so thrilled after hanging out with Gregory again, just having fun together like they used to, she cant help but notice that Roxy was really quiet the whole time. Really quiet.
Cassie doesnt think shes very good at reading animatronics yet, not like Vanessa and Gregory seem to be able to with Freddy, but Cassie cant help but feel like Roxy wasnt really able to relax this whole time, and shes surrounded with people she feels unsafe with.
By the end of it all, when the suns long set and Cassie feels tiredness drag her eyelids down, she cant rest, even when Vanessa's retired to her room, Gregory's left, and Roxy and Freddy went to parts and service.
She feels the same panic as earlier grip her heart. It's not like a panic attack; she's had a few of those, it's more like any chance of relaxation has left her body, and all that's left is feeling tense, on edge, and like something bad is going to happen. Like Gregory isnt going to be there when she wakes up.
But she needn't have worried, because it isnt too long until Gregory re-enters her room, wearing pajamas and Roxy and Freddy plushies clutched in one hand, with a night light in the other.
"This helped me and Freddy when it'd get bad, too." Gregory explains, tucking the Roxy plushie into her own arm as he lays down with her, clicking the night light shaped like Sundrop on. "That way, you can see me if you get scared that I'm gone."
Cassie can't put into words how grateful she is, or how glad she is that Gregory's back, and that she finally has him again, so she just doesn't, even though she wants to. Instead, she just clicks the lamp off, and when she lays down, wraps her arms around his middle.
Once Gregory is pressed up against her, with her forehead against his collarbone, and she can feel his slow, calm breaths, she feels relaxed. She finally feels herself slip into dreamland, and has no nightmares.
2nd ao3 link
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arthur-r · 1 year
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(vent cw sorry i ran out of room in the tags to say that. it’s illness-related anger as usual. content warning for medical everything)
im so fucking sick though. just in general
#and i am so tired of people acting like they know my experiences better than i do#stayed home from school today falling behind in everything couldn’t fcuking get out of bed and my dad said that yesterday my energy was up#so i’m obviously faking it today. like yeah yesterday i laid in bed for hours then came to your house and sat in a chair. saw me for 30min#you don’t get to tell me that yesterday i was feeling well because i fucking wasn’t and you have never noticed or cared#when i fucking passed out got a black eye from hitting my head on the way down. he didn’t fucking bat an eye#now i’m stuck awake because i have stomach pain and my heart has been pounding so loud for hours#and i’m trying to sleep and i need to make it to school tomorrow but i can’t#and i’ve been trying and i’ve been lying awake. and at this point i don’t know how to deal with this anymore#i get sick three times a month you’re supposed to be sick three times a year. this isn’t even counting days where i can’t stand#when i say i’m sick i mean i have sore throat congestion and sometimes fever. and it’s almost always a direct result of trying to live life#like i went to the mall thursday prom shopping. walked a few hours. woke up next morning sore throat runny nose couldnt focus on school from#all the pain in so many places and all of my regular symptoms just being escalated so badly. cant think can’t see cant stand#and that is messed up!!!! that is messed up!!!! and my mother tells me she finally agrees i need anxiety medicine#like hey thanks!! that’s helpful!! however!! why do you only endorse mental when it’s the only alternative to physical#why has my mom always denied viewing my anxiety as anything i shouldn’t just push aside. until it becomes a way to tell me that my physical#problems should also just be pushed aside. why is it so hard to get an audience with a doctor#ANYWAYS i have my stupid follow up appointment. this friday. i dont know how it’s gonna go down#i’m just going to tell the doctor how much it fucking sucks. i guess i’m going to ask for a referral to a neurology specialist in the cities#which will drive my family insane they don’t want to enter the cities to help me. but our clinic doesn’t have what i need#i might get the doctor to do a stress test on friday though if they can do that. but i want specific autonomic testing#and like yeah. i get that anxiety is in the autonomic system. part of fight flight freeze and what EVER i’m not trying to say it’s not!!!!#but does it occur to anyone that my heightened anxiety is one of several symptoms. rather than somehow being the cause#heart rate in panic attack sitting down is 120bpm. heart rate in normal brain walking down the hallway is 140bpm. it’s not my fucking brain#anyway i just need a doctor to actually fucking look at me. actually do the tests actually monitor. because it’s there if you look#but nobody cares enough to look and i just have to sit here falling behind in all my classes and not able to do my job that i love#and just wait for it to somehow get better when i’ve been like this as long as i can remember and maybe it’s worse now but it’s always been#there and everybody writes it off as me being lazy or not putting in enough work and maybe i would have been in sports as a kid if i could!!#people act like my fitness now is because of choices i made as a child but i have ALWAYS had worse reaction to exercise than my friends#and anyway i just. idk. sore throat and stuff is gone now but overall discomfort and disability is not. but i’m going to school cause i cant#keep missing it for health reasons just have to watch my heart go insane and do nothing. out of tags i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.
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milo-is-rambling · 2 days
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Weight talk tw I guess idk how to describe the post sorry im a little high
It’s so weird being around people who talk about weight problems (IOP) and like idk it brings up weird shit in my brain almost anxiety that I should feel bad about myself somehow like I’m doing this wrong being confident idk. Weird self doubt thing that happens when you’ve loved yourself (hmm. Rephrase. I don’t care about being fat. let’s say that.) and then you’re in a room full of people having a group discussion about how they avoid living their life in happy ways because they don’t want to become like you. But you love yourself. But everyone in your life since you were little has been dieting and talking about weight and specific numbers (someone was anxious about gaining seven pounds! SEVEN. If they saw my scale they would shit themselves. I put on seven pounds taking a big bong rip Jesus fucking Christ seven pounds. I wanted to rip my hair out.)
Next time weight issues come up in IOP I’m stepping out of the room. Like idk how to explain it cause it’s like not a trigger but I guess it is ? But it’s just so weird like the way I’m triggered makes me want to cry why does the world hate me for being fat what the fuck !!!!
#me when I gain weight issues through thinking about my own body in a group setting#ughhh#whatever fuck it#taking an anxiety med chavas at work Levi’s on a train (EXCITED!!!!) I’m gonna take my little sedative friend and try to take a nap bc six#and a half hours after the last two days I’ve had is fucking nothing. going to nap city will fix me.#also taking my morning med. I haven’t done that yet I need to eat *stares into camera* to take my meds gahhhh I hate having a human form an#intestines just take the med with one cracker and not get sick what the fuck body I’m so sick of heart burn I want to burn down the world#and now that I’ve had a med increase I get fucking withdrawal symptoms if I miss a morning dose which I found out bc I left my meds at home#accidentally on Monday when I was so overtired and forgot to put them back in my bag for IOP (cause they have food at IOP so I take them#there once I’ve eaten) and then I had a headache for like half of the day and I was so overtired I was crying on the drive home cause I#wanted to sleep so bad and then I got home and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up even on the sleep meds until I talked to kath and she#calmed me down just existing the little sweetheart god I love her okay anyways babble over I’m very overtired and a little cranky and my#brother has been in a very bitchy mood recently idk what’s got him on edge but everything is setting him off into little fights like not#just with me he was fighting with mom this morning he’s just kick to getting worked up recently which leads to me being angry wanting to be#rude which means do the opposite which means show extra compassion woohoo coping skills 🗣️🗣️#anyways. post panic attack sedative nap (my beloved) or perhaps work on editing my vlog#I’m high ​ I forgot you can’t hit comma on tags. edit my vlog. vacuum. (I always spell vacuum with two c’s and not two u’s and I think#autocorrect should not correct me on that one bc I think I am right in my soul idk why#there’s another word I’m like that with but I forget what it is . okay bye thank you for listening to my type words goodbye goodnight mwah#it’s ​nap time babyyyyyy#idk if I have to trigger tag this ? someone let me know if I do please
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xxlelaxx · 27 days
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Anxiety makes enjoying good things so hard
#ignore me#my life has been too good lately and I'm starring to go insane from everything working#i hate myself so much#I've been trying ao be more social and be a good mom and be someone that my daughter can look up to and my husband can love#but it always ends up with me hating myself so fucking much#I've been eating too many sweets which already is setting a bad example qhen it comes to a healthy diet and my media consumption has been#worse lately and my anxiety is now making me unabke to sleep and I've stopped going on daily walks cause the pain is back#it was so nice not having it around for a while and it is makibg everything so much harder#the sleep makes me more irritable and i feel like all i do is fail my baby#my husbans said he doesnt feel loved by me anymore and I've been trying so hard to manage household baby and everything else but its not#enough i always feel like I'm never enough#I've been a horrible friend like always so i guess that is a constant thing in my life#as if that isnt the worst when my mental health gets worse i start getting flashbacks to remind me of everything that went wrong with me#and that just fuels my anxiety around my daughter living through everything i did as a child and i just cant do this#i just wish i could sleeo again#i think all of this is sleep deprivation but i don't know how to do everything without losing sleep or something#i just wanna rest and sleep for more then four hours without veing woken up#god what i would give for eight hours of continuous sleep#but my husbands shifts are so shit that i cant do that to him... also now that I'm at home he's the only one working and I'm terrified of#loosing him so i dont want him to be at work without sleeping well cause it could actually kill him#worst of all I'm just too stupid to ask for help or bother anyone with my stupid problems#and every time I'm away from her she just screams and i just can't take her screams anyo#anymore#i just want to pee and ahit and eat in peace
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satansappendix · 10 months
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Oh my god
#how to explain to mt neurotypical and abled sister that at the end of the day i dont have the mental energy to answer questions#like none#i have had a very long day of waking up early which (my intenstines make very clear is bad) and then being incredibly stressed at work#cause our fucking cash machine that handles all the cash in the store is broken and i have to balance the store and somehow fix thefuckedne#during which i didnt get time to eat anything till i got home at 2 (i wrnt in at 7 am)#then i get home and have an anxiety attack about my cat who has bladder problems and who could be obstructed again#cause we are rearranging our house for construction and he doesnt have his normal food to help reduce the likely hood#and then my mom is asking me to rearrange the furniture to make room for the window replacements tomorrow#i literally have no more mental capacity to make any decisions or wnswer anymote questions#it is just too hard to think about if im going to the beach with them on Friday#im overwhelmed and like anymore decisions or input is too much even like well meaning input#hhhhhhh#and i like dont have the ability explain this with worss cause when im overstimulated or having an attack i lose my ability to use my words#and i dtutter a dhit ton and it just stops being worth it to communicate that way#so no i want to sleep#also the way my mom is like its fine to be concerned about Lageos but you shouldnt 'let it ruin your ehole day' as if i have control over it#and dont have an unmedicated anxiety disorder and i cant just stop feeling emotikns also im autistic so like thats literally not an option#i litrrqlly cant stop being ancious about it no matter how much i understand it makes no snese
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peachesofteal · 22 days
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Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous
The sunrise stabs under your eyelids with malicious intent.
You don’t have much of a hangover, but your face is still puffy, under eyes swollen. You’ve been crying all night, and it’s painfully obvious.
Not to mention the lack of sleep. The vomit induced by your overwhelming anxiety, the bile still scorching your throat. You haven’t slept more than an hour. You look like the walking dead.
You tried to have a serious talk with yourself around two o’clock in the morning. You told- no you promised- yourself you’d leave well enough alone. You’d put them out of your mind. You’d move on.
They never wanted you. So why are you so insulted that they did exactly what they said they would? You weren’t theirs. You’d never be theirs.
Good enough to keep in bed. Good enough to keep out of sight. But not someone they’d consider theirs.
You’re no one’s. You’re just… yours.
Which is fine. It’s more than fine. You’re cool. You don’t need them, or anyone.
Your hand won’t stop shaking though. It shakes when you turn on the water for the shower, shakes as you try to shave. It shakes through your first cup of tea and then your second, shakes when you curl up the couch and huddle under your blankets, staring blankly at reruns of some laugh tracked sitcom. It’s because you haven’t slept or you’re hungover or something-
And it only stops when your doorbell rings.
You slam your eyes shut. You’re not expecting anyone, and that alone makes you feel like there’s probably someone on the other side of the door that you decidedly do not want to see.
The glance through your peephole confirms your suspicions.
It’s Johnny. He’s standing squarely in front of your door, bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Your head starts to pound, and he knocks on the door.
“I know ye’re home, bonnie. I saw yer car in the garage.” You’re frozen on the other side, separated by a piece of metal and wood that suddenly feels less substantial than it ever has before.
When the lock doesn’t click, he knocks again. “‘m not leavin’ until I see ye.” You groan.
“Stalking me now?” You spit when you open the door and he grins sheepishly.
“Naw...” He doesn’t elaborate and you stand in the frame of the door, trying to block him from peering over you- though it’s no use. You watch his critical gaze take inventory of what he can in your flat, and then he returns his attention to you, holding out the flowers.
They’re tulips. Maybe twenty, twenty five stems, all in a spectacle of color. They’re beautiful, and your favorite.
It surprises you. That they even know that about you. That they would remember a comment you must have made in passing.
It gives you pause. It’s confusing.
“Got these for ye.” He’s… such a boy. A grown man, a decorated military man, a strong man but still… such a boy. He’s never looked more like a boy than he does now, eyes wide and nervous, shifting his weight from leg to leg. He blinks, eyelashes feathery and dark, and you’re left to wonder if he gets it from his mom or his dad. Does he have sisters? Brothers? Nieces or nephews? You ached for those pieces of them, before.
Now, the lingering questions fill you with embarrassment.
He steps forward, and you shrink back. His gaze flickers, and then clears, holding the overflowing bundle of colors towards you.
“Thanks.” You say stiffly, careful to avoid his fingers when you pull it free.
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He chews on his lip.
“Ye look tired, love. Did ye get any sleep?” You sniff, hand resting on your hip.
“I’m fine.”
“Ye dinnae look fine.”
“Why are you here?” You’re cracking with exasperation, legs going weak. You’re not strong enough to stand here and survive an onslaught.
“Need to talk with ye, like we said last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, like I said last night.” You parrot with a irritated exhale.
“Ye know that’s jus’ not true. We need to talk about what ye saw, what ye think ye saw-“
“What did I see? Since apparently you know what I’m thinking now.” You’re too tired for this. You don’t want to do this. You want to crawl back into bed and hide under your blankets.
“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“
“I saw your hands on another woman. I saw her smiling at you like-“ you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I saw,” he swallows, mouth pressing into an uncomfortable line, “I always knew this wasn’t real, that it didn’t mean anything but-“
“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.” He reminds you sharply, and you nearly swallow your tongue.
“Yeah, I didn’t, so.” The lie is foul on your tongue, rancid and spoiled, but you give it life regardless. Fuck them. You’re fine.
“But yer mad ye saw us with another woman.” He raises an eyebrow, and you never wanted to punch someone so badly.
But instead of a rising tide of anger, you get an overwhelming wave of despair, and tears prick at the corner of your eyes.
“Ah, no, love. Please, please dinnae cry. ‘m sorry, this is such a mess. We never meant for any of this.” Your hand starts shaking again, trembling against the plastic wrapped around the stems, and Johnny’s expression changes from sad to worried. “What’s this?” He tries to reach, fingers grazing the back of your arm.
“N-nothing, I’m just tired.”
“Love-“
“Just… go away.” Your patience snaps, shatters, and his face falls. It almost makes your feel bad.
Almost.
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dante-mightdie · 23 days
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just a thought that i thought of after reading the angst fics 😖:
Pretend the guy who took her home was some rando she became close with at the bar, and that she told him about all her troubles and issues that she encountered with 141 recently. He comforted her and then they drank together yadayadayada he takes her home, the boys tuck her in despite them being mad, the cute “princess” moment, then morning.
When morning comes, they all talk it out, only catch is that now they’re back at square one when getting Reader to open up, and get intimate. Let alone even hug them.
Another catch is that they seemed more comfortable with literally anyone else BUT them. They all went out? Reader brings the guy friend to come along, then falls asleep on his shoulder accidentally, even though Gaz offered his shoulder first instead. They all are gonna cuddle and sleep in the same bed together and want Reader to join in? Reader opts for a plushed animal (The big plushies— Like a giant bear or shark) instead. It was like getting Ghost to let down his walls, just a little harder since instead of short answer “no’s” and grunts, they’d feel like they’re bullying Reader even though all they asked was want they want for breakfast.
Ex: *They all are talking, then Price turns to Reader* “Where do you wanna go out tonight, sweets?”
Reader: *literally sweating and looking at every other place thats not any of them, fiddling with their fingers as they mutter out a soft,* “Dunno.”
here’s a lil something something i’ve been thinking about
c/w: reader has trust issues, boys attempt to make amends, not a happy ending really but still more to come, panic, anxiety
it had been a stressful few weeks for you after that night at the bar
when the morning came, you woke up to find yourself in the centre of their bed. sheets all tangled with up in the knot of limbs made up by you and your lovers. heavy arms slung over your waist and sleeping faces smushed into the side of your neck
this may have been the norm for you a few weeks ago but with recent events, this makes you feel trapped. especially since you can’t recall the events of the previous night. your brain had switched off after your fourth daiquiri
you must have gotten hammered and crawled into the bed after hours, you think to yourself. must have gotten so lonely and desperate that you crawled into their bed. you have to get up and leave before they find you
you carefully pull their arms from you, untangling your legs with a painfully slow pace. no risky movements. when you think you’re just about to make it, you feel a strong arm snaking its way back around your waist and pulling you straight back into the flesh pile
“where’re you goin’, darlin’?” price grumbles in your ear, his prickly bread tickling your skin when he pushes his face back into the side of your neck. your eyes widen at the situation you’ve found yourself in
price perks up a bit, lifting his head when he feels you push at this arm wrapped around you like you want it off. he lifts his arm slightly for you. you twist and turn to get out of his grip, scrambling to your feet and watching him with a nervous expression
“woah, calm down. please don’t act like i’m going to hurt you, you know I’d never do that.” price says with a soft tone, hands out in surrender as you step away from the bed. he frowns at your skittery nature
“what happened last night? why am I in your room?” you ask, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. your hands feel soft cotton rather than the black silk you wore the night before and you look down to see one of soaps old band t-shirts, “did I put this on?”
the boys begin to stir awake at the sound of hushed voices. soft groans and joints clicking filling the room but you don’t take your eyes off of john’s. he seems sad, like you’ve just subtly devastated him
��you came home in a bit of a state so we bought you to bed. why’d you look so nervous, honey?” john coos, the rest of the boys are fully awake now, sat up and watching this scene unfold in front of them
feeling all those sets of eyes on you makes you close up, looking down at the floor and not saying a word. like you’re trying to make yourself small, hard to see and perceive
john climbs out of bed next, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head. “let’s go get something to eat, yeah? we all have a lot to talk about today.”
all you can do is stand rigid and stare at them with shock splattered on your face as they all climb out of bed, walk over to you and plant a kiss on your forehead before following john downstairs
you stare at the empty doorway for a few minutes before creeping downstairs, brow furrowed the whole time as you watch them move around in the kitchen. john grips your tense shoulders and nudges you into a seat before placing a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of you
johnny and kyle are setting the table, smiling at you and asking how you slept. playfully scolding you for drinking too much before popping a few painkillers in front of you. you feel like you’ve been placed in the middle of a tv sketch. like at any moment someone with a camera is gonna run out and tell you that you’re being punked
“how was your night out, darling? we see you made a new friend.” john gives you his classic close lipped smile, the one you used to tell him made him look like a quokka. you jerk away when you feel simon walk over, ruffle your hair and place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you wordlessly
“uh… it was… fine.” you mumble, staring down at the ceramic bowl. kyle connects his phone to the speaker, letting the kitchen become filled with morning news reports and music as they cook breakfast. you barely touch the food they put in front of you, your paranoid brain telling you that something bad was about to happen
they fill the tables with plates full of food, all the fixings for me a full-english and more. fruit and pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed juice, courtesy of kyle and that ridiculously expensive juicer that he asked john to buy him. they start helping themselves to the food, piling their plates high whilst you just sit there anxiously, hands kept firmly in your lap
your coffee has since gone cold, only taking one sip to help you wash down the painkillers. you can’t take it anymore. you don’t like how normal they’re acting, as if they haven’t spent the past few weeks putting you through hell at home,
“need to do the food shop today. why don’t you come with me, princess? we’ll pick up some lunch and sit in the garden. the weather is-“ john begins talking but you just cut him off
“what the actual fuck are you talking about, john?” you blurt out, hand coming up to silence him. everyone stops eating and turns to look at you. “have you lost the plot? why are you acting like everything is just normal?”
“I ken it’s been a difficult few weeks for ye, hen but we just want-“ johnny begins to speak, a frown tugging at his lips as he reaches his hand across the table to grab yours. you snatch it away, looking at him like he was insane
“I don’t give a fuck what you want!” you scoff, snatching your hand away before he can touch you, “I don’t know what joke you lot are playing on me but it’s not funny. I can’t- I don’t- just fucking stop, okay!?”
you struggled to find your words for a moment before bursting out, your lip wobbling and eyes welling up before you stand from the table abruptly. you turn on your feet and storm upstairs, going straight to your room and slamming the door
the second the it’s closed you slide down the wooden door, tears falling from your eyes as you bury your face in your hand. meanwhile, downstairs the kitchen is silent. cutlery placed firmly on the table, untouched as all the boys comprehend the situation they’re in
“we fucked up.”
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ahundredtimesover · 1 month
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I Want You to Stay (11) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (making out - I know, finally) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 23.5k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii so this was quite the wait! We have come to the climax of the story and I'm both excited and terrified to share this with you. I have nothing more to say other than see you on the other side! 🤭🤭
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Whenever Jungkook creates some distance between you and him, you often understand it. It’s his default, you think, and after learning about the pain he harbors from his childhood, you’ve come to accept it. You expect it, even. 
Recently though, he hasn’t been doing much of it. He often moves closer; sometimes, he lets you do it. Tonight, it’s both - he stands near you, he holds you, and he lets you slowly close the distance until you’re just a breath away. And for a brief moment, you think that he’d eliminate it altogether. 
But you’re not in some fantasy world, so when he pulls away, you’re reminded of who you are and who he is and that sliver of hope goes up in flames. 
“I—” he mumbles. 
“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”
You grab your bag then rush outside, exhaling the breath you were holding in and letting the shame fill you up as fast as the elevator reaches the first floor. You want to run to rid yourself of the embarrassment, maybe be irresponsible for once and get drunk just to forget. Maybe when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find out it was all a dream - you didn’t actually want to kiss your boss, you didn’t actually think he’d kiss you back, and he didn’t actually pull away, as if it stung him to touch you, as if it hurt him to try. 
But the thought doesn’t last long.
You get on a bus and convince yourself that staying sober tonight is a better option than reporting hungover to work tomorrow. You’ll feel embarrassed either way, but might as well be more professional about it, considering that what you’d almost done - and all the things you thought about - was nothing but that. You settle for just cup noodles for dinner; you don’t deserve anything nicer than that tonight. 
Sleep doesn’t come until past one later in the evening. You spend much of your time tossing and turning, trying hard to erase the image of Jungkook so close to you. 
But nothing works. All you see are his lips. All you can hear is his breathing. All you can smell is him. 
You wake up four hours later, exhausted and incredibly anxious for the day. You want it to be over already, and you half think of calling in sick but you know that’ll be too obvious. It could set off alarm bells to Jungkook and he might call and ask how you are, and that’s something you can’t deal with either. So you power through and nap in the car, not wanting to converse with Mr. Ri because you might tell him everything should he ask the right questions.
Your plan of action is to engage with Jungkook as little as you can, in any way that’s possible. You play around with things in his kitchen and make sure you have your back turned when he exits from his gym. The energy drink and glass of water are on the counter and you sense him lingering before he finally walks to his bedroom. You let some time pass before going to his closet to prepare his accessories for the day, then head back out, cooking his omelet as slowly as you can.
The clearing of his throat lets you know he’s done, and you glance at him before placing the dishes on the table. 
This isn’t the routine. You always fix his necktie once he shows up. It’s reflex for you, and you know that’s what he’s come to expect as well. 
But you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. It’s basically like re-enacting what happened last night and you can’t promise yourself that you won’t want to kiss him again when he’s that close. You can’t look him in the eyes, you can’t take in his scent, you can’t hear his breathing without remembering how he felt like. You know you can’t have it again, so you won’t even torture yourself even more than you already are.
His tie is slightly off and it disturbs you. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t ask you to fix it. 
You sigh to yourself. He’ll live. 
You eat quickly and it’s a contrast to him picking on his food. You’re tempted to ask if the dish isn’t to his liking, but you told yourself not to start conversations or engage in anything outside of work matters, and you’ll stick to that for as long as possible. 
“___.”
“Mr. Jeon, I’ve prepared your notes for today’s meetings,” you state before he could say anything more. “And I’m meeting with the marketing team about the additional promotional materials you wanted. Is there anything else you wish to add to the ones we talked about?”
“None for now. They can go ahead with my initial request,” he responds, his voice too soft than what you’re used to, but you don’t dare look up and meet his eyes.
You ask a few more questions and he responds accordingly. The silence is deafening and though you miss the playful banter that has become part of your mornings, you know you can’t get into that right now. Somehow, this is when you can’t act like everything’s normal. Your stupid mistake and foolish assumption is where you draw the line. You just hope the day ends quickly enough before you give in. 
Both of you head down to the car. Before going inside, you hear Jungkook ask Mr. Ri how he looks and if his tie is fixed, and you internally smack your head for being so petty about this. You didn’t think that something seemingly trivial about your daily routine with him would affect you this much, as if it somehow threw things off-balance just because you were so afraid to be close. You realize now that you would look forward to those few seconds because that was the only time you had a reason to touch him. 
But he’s everything you can’t desire and given that you almost crossed a line, you know you’re gonna have to slowly pull back. Not just with regards to your feelings but in everything, as you take a peek of your personal phone and see an email notification about an upcoming book launch from Rkive Publishing. You subscribed to their mailing list right after you met their director, and you’ve been sitting on his email address and the application letter you have yet to submit. 
Since that encounter, you’ve been occasionally looking at other job opportunities in different fields. You realize that nothing much excites you. There’s not much you think is worth slaving your way for in this corporate jungle, and that while you’re currently part of that machine, the only thing that got you going these past eight years was the debt you had to pay. 
You had your reasons to stay but being at this point when you’re ready to let that go, you’re realizing that there wasn’t much else about the job that got you truly excited. Sure, it was also the people, but they’re why you couldn’t leave. It wasn’t until the planning for the Arts Center that you felt you could truly be invested in a project and have impact on it, too; it just so happens that the man behind it is the reason why you have to step away. You know it’s the only way you could finally choose yourself and pursue what you want. At 31, you owe it to yourself to do that. 
Your thoughts are disrupted when the familiar building comes into view, and you exit the car and head to your floor, trailing Jungkook this time instead of walking by his side as what you’ve come to do. You can tell that he notices the distance but you don’t want to address it. Being terrible at any form of confrontation, you don’t really want to acknowledge anything that happened. You’ll deal with him if he brings it up, and for all the times that you screwed up, you wish to the heavens that Jungkook lets this one go. 
You head to your desk while he heads to his. You make him his coffee then ask him to sign some documents. You focus on his hands as he flips through the pages, preferring to look at those instead of his face. But it’s those fingers that pressed against you last night, and you shake your head at the memory, even if all you want is to feel them again.
You retrieve the papers, your heart stopping when he doesn’t let them go right away. Your eyes widen and you still don’t look at him, even as you anticipate him to say something.
“___.”
“Mr. Min asked to meet with you after lunch,” you cut him off again before he could say more.
“I know. That email was sent to you and me.”
“Yes, sir. I was just making sure.”
He lets go of the papers now and you bow before quickly heading out. You just know he had his eyebrows scrunched at you. He’s probably trying to make sense of how jittery you seem and though he may know why, you’re not sure if he knows why.
You get through the morning in one piece. You attend your meeting while Jungkook attends his own with his father. You grab a quick lunch with Do-hyun, whose narration of her love life takes up the whole half hour, then you return to your tasks once you finish.
Hyper-focused on the file you’re reviewing, Yoongi’s usually unenthusiastic greeting catches you off guard, causing your lips to miss the hot tea that you’re about to drink. You jerk, spilling all of it on you. You subsequently hit the saucer that’s on the edge of the table; it falls on the floor and breaks.
“Fuck!” You whisper yell, as you feel the drink pool on your skirt.
“Shit, is it burning?” Yoongi asks worriedly. 
He immediately rushes to your side and grabs some paper towels from the cabinet, placing them on your lap and on the floor.
“Don’t move so you don’t spread the broken pieces,” he instructs. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m just uncomfortable,” you groan, with your knees awkwardly touching each other and your thighs squeezed to keep the liquid from spreading. 
You’re at least in a black skirt but you know the stain will still be visible. That’s the least of your problems though, as Jungkook arrives from his meeting and heads to you with a folder, only to find Yoongi kneeling on the floor next to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen, seemingly scandalized at what this looks like, and they flit from you to his friend, whose calm face quickly turns into one of panic. 
“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi explains, raising the soiled paper towels as evidence. He tells you to move back so he can place them over the shards while Jungkook looks on intently. “Are you good? Do you have spare clothes?” Yoongi asks you.
“Uh, ye-yeah,” you manage to say, hating how frozen you seem to be. With the tea having been absorbed, you grab your bag from your cabinet, the one you’ve started to keep and bring with you during trips in case you get stranded again, then throw the towels in the trash bin. “I’ll just go get changed.”
You scurry towards the washroom and leave the men alone, knowing that Yoongi will hold the fort for both of you. 
Back inside, Jungkook eyes Yoongi as he calls for maintenance to clean up the mess.
“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi says again. “She couldn’t move and I just cleaned up.”
“I heard you the first time,” Jungkook states.
“Just making sure, so your mind doesn’t think of whatever it thinks about,” Yoongi shrugs. “But is she okay? She seems a bit out of it.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook looks away. “Don’t you usually know those things?”
“Well, I assume that since you’ve gotten closer, you would know. Unless it’s about you… Were you mean to her again?”
Yoongi’s unusual scowl is one that Jungkook is secretly terrified of but he acts unaffected, merely shaking his head in response and to dismiss the assumption. He’ll admit that his friend’s statement is quite bittersweet, though. Yes, you and Jungkook have both gotten closer and there hasn’t been an incident in months where you could’ve had a reason to be down because of him. 
Unless last night counts, which is something he’s still wrapping his head around. 
He thinks back to that moment right by your desk. You were so close. And he was so close to doing something more than just holding onto your waist. He saw you eye his lips and he did the same but the realization of where you both were - in a semi-open space in the office - reminded him of his limits. Sure, it was after-hours and no one would have any reason to be on the floor at that time, but it still felt too exposed and he didn’t want either of you to be put in such a compromising position, even if every part of his body was aching to kiss you. 
He wouldn’t have known you were talking about him if it weren’t for the way you held him close and that unfamiliar look of yearning in your eyes. At that moment, he let himself hope that he’s who you wanted, even if he’s also the same man you believed wouldn’t cross his boundaries for you.
Even then, you had been so bold, so honest. He wished he was as brave and as capable to express his desires as you were. He never thought you’d feel anything for him - him, the one who made your life miserable for weeks, the one who treated you unfairly because you made him feel - and want - things he couldn’t understand and control. Your calm and warm nature made him think he wasn’t anyone special. He dismissed whatever part of him that thought otherwise because he couldn’t hope for something he couldn’t have.
But last night, the way you looked at him also made him feel like all he desired was within reach, like you were within his grasp. Your lips were everything he wanted all over him. Your soft breaths were what he wanted to take in. You were all he wanted to taste and touch and hear, and he’d been so, so close to crossing a line that he said he wouldn’t because he was afraid it would push you away and that’s the last thing he wants to do.
He was overwhelmed but he was just as scared, believing that there’s no turning back if something had happened. He almost stepped over the line but pulled back just as quickly, and now it seems that that’s what’s keeping you at a distance. Because as you return to your desk, you merely bow at him then go through the folder of documents he’d given you.
“Yoongi and I will just meet for an hour,” he says. “Please be ready with the Arts Center opening event budget that I’ll go through with Hoseok later.”
“That’s noted, sir.”
Jungkook sighs in disappointment as you don’t spare him a glance. He just wants to see those eyes again, the ones that yearned for him last night, the ones that asked him - almost challenged him - to get closer. But he’d been the coward who let you go, and now he doesn’t know how to turn back from this.
He enters his room then turns around to face Yoongi.
“I feel so much and I don’t know what to do.”
“I know,” his friend hums, feeling relieved that Jungkook can now acknowledge something he’d known for a while now. But Yoongi also knows that it’s not that simple, and while he knows of the possibility that you feel the same, reciprocated feelings don’t always mean happy endings. “Just don’t… just don’t hurt her,” he adds.
“Why do I feel like whatever I do, it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway?”
“She’ll know when you mean it and when you don’t. And you know what helps?”
“What?”
“Letting her know that hurting her isn’t what you want to do. You’ve got a lot to say, Jungkook, I know it,” Yoongi remarks. “Just be brave enough to say them.”
Yoongi’s words linger in Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the day, especially during the times that he peeks through the window to get a glimpse of you. You seem determined not to look his way, as you don’t even attempt to look at his direction all afternoon. There is a lot he’s got to say, he just doesn’t know what they are or how to say them. It’s always been that way when it comes to you - he feels so much, but he's unable to let you know.
Despite your avoidance all day, he feels your absence even more when you leave at 6PM, on the dot, without sparing him a glance. He could run after you and ask to talk. He wouldn’t know how to start that conversation though, but if it would bring you to finally look at him or say his name, then it would be enough. 
He just wants to know what last night meant for you. And if it means what he hopes it does, then maybe it isn’t about turning back but moving forward. He knows it will be complicated, but he wants to figure it out with you. He’ll choose the path where he gets to be around you, close to you. Always.
Jungkook pulls out the bottle of whiskey he keeps in his drawer to momentarily drown out these thoughts. For some, liquor gives them courage. For him, he drinks it because he’s afraid to be brave.
As he replays the way you looked at him last night, he wonders to himself what he’s more scared of - never having you close enough, or losing you completely. 
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The three films you watch in the cinema that Saturday afternoon are a good distraction to all the thoughts in your head. You occasionally do this because watching other people’s lives play out in film gives you something to ponder about. Sometimes, you let it inspire you to live differently. Other times, it allows you a peek into a life much more exciting than the one you have. In some instances, it gives you a sense of relief that yours is uneventful, lacking in drama and intrigue.
At this moment, you’re not quite sure what you want out of it other than to forget. What exactly, you’re not sure. Is it the way you felt when Jungkook held you? Is it the way he seemed to want more and then nothing at all? Or is it the hope you had that you’d found someone you were willing to give a bit of yourself to, only for the glass to shatter because that’s not what you do - you don’t desire for things not meant for you; you don’t open yourself to heartbreak like that. 
Jungkook has always made you feel a lot of things. This time is no different. But this time it also means more. You could lose him completely or have something with him that could be beautiful. One would hurt right away and the other could hurt you down the road. You don’t know which one you’re willing to suffer through. 
Suddenly you wish you didn’t get to this point at all. You could’ve left when you had the chance. You could’ve let him not mean to you this much. 
You continue to wallow in the sadness. You eat dinner at a ramen place before going home and settling in bed with your best friends on video call. You tell them about the past two days and narrate your moments with Jungkook during the team building that you left out when you spoke to them about it. Looking at them through the screen, you see a mix of understanding and frustration on their faces. 
“Why are you avoiding him, hun?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and comforting.
“Because I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, burying your face on the pillow. “I was so… shameless. I don’t even know what got into me. He just looked at me and I… lost all sense. Who was I to assume that moment would end well? That he’d reciprocate that honesty?”
“And you think not talking about it will rid you of that embarrassment?” She wonders.
“No. But it’s at least better than facing it,” you frown. “I’m not good with words nor feelings. And I’m sure that neither is he. I’m just trying to be professional now because I obviously wasn’t.”
You leave out your fears about meeting his eyes and hearing what he has to say. Even if he returns whatever you feel, there’s so much burden tied to that and you don’t think you’re ready for it. You don’t think you’re ready for any of this.
“It doesn’t seem sustainable though,” Soomin points out. “You’re together all the time. You’ve created a routine and a dynamic that you’ve gotten so used to. It takes more effort to avoid the whole thing, don’t you think?”
“I guess but… we’re all busy with the Arts Center opening. And I plan on tending my resignation right after,” you explain. “There’s no time to talk about feelings. I’ll just let it die down. It’s stupid to have them in the first place.” 
The prolonged silence prompts you to turn towards her. “You don’t agree with me, do you?”
“I just don’t think it’s stupid to be feeling what you’re feeling,” Soomin replies. “You spend so much time together. You’re bound to form some attachment and develop affection for him, regardless of how things started. I mean, through all the late-nights and early mornings and stresses and comfort in between, there’s something only two of you share and understand. That’s not stupid. That’s how connections are formed, hun.”
Attachment. Connection. They terrify you but they’re things that you desire as well. You don’t know how deep they are when it comes to Jungkook and you don’t know if they’re something he feels towards you, too.
“Maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that it isn’t that serious,” she adds. “Maybe it’s because you know that it is, and you don’t know if it’s worth pursuing, if it’s worth finding out if he returns it and if being with him is something that can happen.”
You look away, knowing the truth in her words. You turn to Jimin, who’s been unusually quiet all evening.
“What do you think Jimin?” You ask him. “I mean, it’s one thing to feel something and another to act on it and risk everything for it, right?”
“There’s always something you risk once you acknowledge what you feel for another person,” he says after pondering about it. “For me, acting on it just depends on two things. Is it good for me, and is it good for them? In your case, it’s something to really think about. You’re you and he’s him. And you know what I mean. You’ve been wanting to walk away from this company for years, ___. You wanna be something outside of it. How does being with your boss help with that?”
Jimin’s words remind you of something else you’ve been yearning for - that search for who you are outside of your work, outside of all the years you spent working for this family that have become a core part of who you are. For people like you who have to work extra hard for the things you have, it becomes natural for your job to define you as a means of survival. It doesn’t give you power nor influence; it just gives you a means to get to the next day and to give back to the one person who sacrificed everything for you. 
As the years went by, it became more difficult to pull away. This family trusts you, and your confidence has only ever increased as an employee of this company, but not as a professional. You’ve been wanting to learn who you are without the burdens you carry, without the need to constantly prove yourself to the people who helped make you, and Jungkook ties you to all this. Whether it’s pursuing him or working for him, you’re afraid you’ll never be brave enough to do things on your own.
You weren’t supposed to be this attached. You weren’t supposed to be this invested. You weren’t supposed to want to be wanted back. 
But Jungkook made you care. He made you feel. He made you be brave. And he’s now the one you have to pull away from.
“You’re right,” you sigh. “Maybe in a way, I needed this to happen. I needed this… moment to remind me that I have to leave and I can’t let him be another reason for me to stay, not when I feel what I feel, and not when I don’t know if he feels the same way.”
“What if he does, though?” Soomin asks. “And what if he asks you to stay?”
“Thinking about it now, I hope he doesn’t,” you say. “It’d be much easier for me if he just lets me go. I can finally walk away from all this. And I can get over what I feel.”
“Is that what you really want?” Soomin adds.
You nod in response. “At least I know I’ll be happy outside of working for the company. Who knows what having him in my life would bring me?”
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The book cafe in Mapo district boasts of an elegant yet comfortable design. It has three levels that consist of a library and working spaces, but it’s on the first floor that you find yourself in, tucked in one of the corner tables at the back with your iced coffee and fruit tart. 
You listen in awe as the author reads excerpts from her newly released book, which she narrates with vigor and emotion. She answers questions about her purpose for writing this specific story, the inspiration for the characters, and interesting things like who she’d cast if it were to become a movie and what the playlist would sound like. It’s the first book launch you’ve ever been to, and despite not being an avid reader, you have a feeling that it won’t be your last. 
There’s something about the storytelling and the process of creating something that captivates you. There’s not much of that in your world. It’s all numbers and profits. It’s soulless, if you’re being honest. It doesn’t give you time to feel or live in the moment or actually bask in the work that you do. You’re there to support, to assist, and while that used to be something you were proud of, the past year has made you think that it’s truly time to move on from it. It’s made you desensitized to things like joy and hope and love, which prompts you to realize that those are what have been missing. Working on the Arts Center gave you a taste of it. You’ve come to the point where you want to know how those truly feel like, and the job has hindered you from fully finding it out.
All your emotions for Jungkook take a backseat the more you think about what your life could be, especially while you watch Namjoon gather what seems to be his team, as he congratulates them for a successful launch. They’re all in casual clothes, looking relaxed, relieved, and fulfilled as the event comes to a close and several people approach the author and ask her to sign their books. You can imagine the stress leading up to all this, but there’s satisfaction in putting together something this intimate and meaningful. 
“You made it,” the man with the soft smile says, the child-like innocence of his face, a contrast to his very masculine build. “I’m glad those newsletters and email invites work.”
“I think they’re the only ones I actually read,” you say, earning you a brighter smile from him. “But honestly though, it helps that a book cafe is something I wouldn’t mind being in on a Sunday morning.”
“Exactly!” Namjoon beams. “It’s easy to make it a part of your weekend. Whether it translates to immediate sales isn’t the whole point, although that’s great, don’t get me wrong. But as long as there’s foot traffic and increased interest, then it’s a success. Our launches have been gaining traction on social media. And the—shit, sorry. I’m rambling again,” he chuckles. “I doubt you came here with the intention of listening to me talk about what we do and stuff.”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you assure him. “I don’t actually go to things like this but I thought it might be a good way to have a feel of what it’s like working for your company without inconveniencing you. I mean, I haven’t applied yet but I just wanted to see if this is something I’d enjoy doing.”
“And?” He asks in anticipation.
“It kind of is,” you admit. “I don’t know. There’s just something so personal about it.”
“There really is,” Namjoon nods.
His face turns serious now, something that happens when he’s about to go on a speech about whatever it is he feels strongly about. He’s expressive and it’s quite captivating, which is refreshing in a colleague, you realize. 
Sitting across from you in your little nook in the cafe, he talks about the journey of this whole process, how he reached out to the author who turned out was trying to contact him as well. He was hoping to publish one of her manuscripts that was shared to him by a friend, but she offered this one instead, a very personal story that she trusted his company would do justice. 
“I sat the whole team down and told them what this means for her as an author and as a person, and what that in turn could mean to the readers,” he continues. “There’s so much responsibility but the return is worth more than you could imagine. Of course, it’s not always easy. We have a relatively small team for the amount of things that we have to do but it works. Communication is smooth, accountability is shared, and we build our trust and respect in each other that way. I think that makes it even more worth it in the end.”
“You’re really trying to lure me in, aren’t you?” You laugh.
“Pretty much,” he chuckles. “I just think our meetings are serendipitous. There were two people who were supposed to take on the role but they backed out last minute - on both cases, I see you the next day. The universe probably has plans.”
“It probably does,” you nod, slowly believing him. “The only reason why I haven’t applied yet is because this is all so new to me and I may not be what you’re looking for.”
“But it could be that we’re what you’re looking for,” he counters. “Even if the industry is new to you, if it’s a place you’re comfortable in and that you think will help you grow professionally, then you become what we need. It’s give and take, really. Your approach to the work impacts how you do it. Yes, it’s still a job but it also means a lot more.”
“You’re very good at this,” you say, feeling more at ease as you speak with him, a stranger who has no idea what you’re going through but is somehow saying the exact things you need to hear. “I just have a timeline I’m working around. My company has an important thing coming up in several weeks and I don’t want to leave before then. It’s also why I’ve been delaying applying.”
“Hey, if we see that we’re a good fit for each other, then we can work around your timeline,” he says. “To help with that, maybe we can chat more casually to relieve you of the pressure. I have some things to return to the office not far from here and you can tell me a bit about the work that you do. What do you think?”
It’s a suggestion you take up, so you both start walking a few streets down to a mid-rise building, a structure that sits amidst cozy cafes and small parks. 
The Rkive Publishing office is spacious. Instead of solo desks, there are large tables so there are more opportunities for collaborations, but there are small meeting rooms and private spaces as well. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves that are lined with hundreds of books, and quirky art pieces that give the place a unique yet personal touch. It’s leagues different from what you’re used to, and as you appreciate the way the sunlight makes the whole place glow, you start to think that Namjoon may be right - this might just be what you’re looking for. 
You disclose who you work for then tell him your functions, narrate how a usual day looks like, and mention the types of people you usually engage with. But you share how you’ve felt lost in the chaos of everything and that you’ve been trying to find purpose in it but have been unable to. 
Namjoon purses his lips, attempting to hide a smile, but you call him out on it.
“I’m just trying not to get too excited,” he reasons, giving in and chuckling now. “We need organization, a sense of urgency, a kind of professionalism that someone of your caliber could bring. I don’t want to get my hopes up and yes, there’s a process, but I hope you give us a chance.”
It’s easy to think that this man has no idea what he’s saying, but he’s been talking about going with his gut feeling all morning - he’s said as much that following his heart and doing what feels right for him allowed him to turn the company into what it is right now. Maybe meeting the first time was just a coincidence, but the pull of the universe - of you to this environment and him to you - is just too strong that you can’t help but think that maybe this is the next step for you. For all the challenges you went through all these years, maybe you deserve something a little more smooth sailing this time. 
You don’t make any promises but you do assure him that you’ll send him an email. There are obviously other pressing matters that you have to deal with but this has been a good distraction, one that you allow to preoccupy you for the rest of the day. 
After saying goodbye, you walk around the neighborhood and spend the afternoon by the river where you wonder about the people surrounding you. 
What dilemmas are they facing? What heartbreaks are they trying to move on from? What new adventure are they preparing for? Or maybe, who are they trying to forget? Who’s waiting at home for them? Are they watching the sunset because they know it’s beautiful or because they’ve forgotten that it is? 
You let out a breath once the sun has dipped and the sky has turned a dark shade of blue. You feel a mix of awe at its beauty and disappointment because the day has come to an end. You once more have to face the person you’ve been trying not to think about all weekend.
Giving yourself a pep talk, you go to bed that night with the plan of continuing what you did last Friday, which is avoiding any moments and any chances of talking about what happened. If Jungkook brings it up, then you’ll just have to face it and ask him to forget about that night and then deal with the consequences after. But there’s no way that you’ll say anything first; you’ll ride this out for as long as you can.
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Avoiding talking to Jungkook about non-work matters - which is really what you only intended to do - is much more difficult when you have to pretend you don’t care about him. 
That Monday morning, you stop yourself from asking how he’s doing after spotting the empty whiskey bottle and beer cans in his kitchen bin. While you give him the usual hangover remedy, you stop short of suggesting that he get some rest or buying him his favorite lunch dish. 
During the meeting that you accompany him to in the afternoon, you watch him helplessly as his father hounds him with questions about the other projects, adding even more pressure than what he’s currently under, and you look away when he tries to meet your eyes. You used to send him encouragement through your gentle nods and soft smiles but you’re scared you’ll fall into your feelings once again if you do them, knowing that any sign of him needing you is all it would take for you to give in and talk to him, maybe comfort him. 
You’ve become so weak for him, you realize that now. His detachment used to put you off and frustrate you, but knowing him the way you do, it’s what makes you want to be there for him; it’s what makes you want to assure him that you’re just there. 
But you aren’t, because you’re pushing him away. You’re making him go through his confusion and stress and exhaustion all on his own because you’re a coward, too. You’re scared of your own feelings. You’re scared of them being rejected and you’re scared of them being returned. You didn’t realize just how much you are because you never actually felt something this deeply for anyone, and that terrifies you even more. 
Watching him from your desk as he pores through documents on his laptop is hard, too. You’re done for the day but he’s said earlier that he’ll be staying late to finish a few things because there are many distractions at his place. You want to tell him they can wait, that he’ll need to rest and regain his energy for the week ahead, or that some fresh air could help clear his mind. 
But you don’t. Instead, you pack your things and head out, knowing that much as it’s your decision to force this distance between both of you, it’s still something you wish you didn’t have to do. You don’t know how long you can sustain it, but somehow you know that once he gives in, so will you, and so all this might as well just be useless or even worse for you. 
Mr. Ri picks up on the change the next morning, as he asks if you and Jungkook had an argument on the way to his penthouse. 
“There was no argument, ” you answer. “There’s just a lot on my mind and he’s a big part of that. I just… I just don't know how to deal with things, you know?”
“Things like what?” Mr. Ri asks. 
“Feelings,” you sigh. “I mean, you said they can’t be helped. And you’re right, I can’t. That’s my big problem right now.”
“Oh, ___,” he says, softly smiling through the rear view mirror. 
You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, something he’s told you before he’s unsure how to do. You brush him off, saying you’ll figure it out, and he assures you that you could talk to him and that maybe, you need to just let it out to someone who knows what you’re battling against. You express your appreciation then inhale deeply once you arrive at Jungkook’s building. 
The clanking sound of plates surprises you when you enter the penthouse. You walk cautiously towards the kitchen and find Jungkook already dressed in his work attire, placing the basket of toasted bread in the middle of the dining table where you spot the two plates with eggs in each. You wonder if you’re late, given that he’d gone ahead and made breakfast for both of you already. 
“You’re on time,” he says after seeing you check your watch. “I was just up early. I couldn’t really sleep. I think I have too much on my mind.”
“I still could have made this for you,” you say so softly, Jungkook almost misses it.
“I didn’t mind,” he answers, wanting to say more, like that he thought it would be nice to make something for you for a change, or that he hopes you could see the effort.
But he keeps them to himself, just like the many other things that he doesn’t feel ready to verbalize. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since Thursday night, and he thinks that the distance you’re creating has made his desire even stronger, but so has the fear. 
He spent the weekend downing alcohol and then boxing for hours to get rid of the hangover. The lemon ginger tea he made didn’t really work. He placed the bandage on his beat-up knuckles incorrectly, not like how perfectly you’d done it once. And the chicken noodle soup he ordered when he wasn’t feeling well last night didn’t taste as good as yours. 
His mornings aren’t the same without the briefest touch from you from fixing his tie, or from the casual conversations during breakfast or in the car. There’s not much of your voice or your laughter that he hears, and definitely none of your smile that always encouraged him, that always assured him. This continues for the rest of the day, as he barely feels your presence unless he asks for it. And even then, it almost feels like you’re not there at all. 
He feels so lost without you, unable to focus and function properly without your guidance and your care. He doesn’t know how or when he’s allowed himself to need you this much but it all feels so new yet familiar. All he wants is to be near you again but he admits that seeing you consistently pull away hurts him more than anything. 
It’s why that Wednesday, he settles for only minimal glances at you in the car, why he conducts his morning meeting in a cafe instead, why he has the blinds on in his room all afternoon, and why he stays to work late and informs you that he’ll go straight to the Arts Center the next day so he’ll just meet you in the office.
He does all those so he’s forced to be around you less, so he doesn’t look up from his desk to find out that you don’t look his way anymore, so that it’s less difficult when you don’t do your usual routine with him. He at least won’t feel as bad when you don’t ask how he’s feeling if you don’t see him look terrible in the morning after not being able to sleep, or when you don’t fix his necktie for the fifth time this past week if he’s not around you in the first place. 
You’ve been going out of your way to avoid him and if he had a bit more courage, he’d probably be able to ask what Thursday night was about and if you’d really wanted to kiss him like he did. 
But he’s afraid of two things - that you’d ask him to forget all of it, or that you’d both have to figure out how to move forward if the feelings are indeed mutual. There are so many things that could go wrong but just as many that could go right - he’s scared to hurt you either way. And like he’s always said, he doesn’t know how to handle all of this; he doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels.
Thursday morning comes and while you’re relieved that you don’t have to tiptoe around Jungkook again in his own apartment and feel suffocated by the tension, you won’t lie and say that you deeply felt his absence. You also won’t deny that seeing him walk towards his office without sparing you a glance hurt you a little. You know him enough that he’s probably giving you the space that you’ve insisted on, but still, a part of you wonders if he’s just accepted it, too. 
And when you hand him his notes for his late afternoon meeting then when he leaves for the CEO’s office without a look of acknowledgment, you worry that he’s become impatient, that he’ll keep pulling away for as long as you are, and that you’ll be so far apart that you’ll start to wonder if you’d come close to him at all. 
But you did this, you remind yourself. You’d been the one to get close, to expect, and then to detach because you were so afraid of what would happen next, and what that would mean for you. He’s probably the last thread you’re holding onto, connecting you to this world that you’ve been planning on leaving for so long. Maybe you’re also scared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and the last thing you want is for him to be the reason why you can’t let go, and then resent him for it. 
You sigh in your seat as the various thoughts plague your mind. You decide to go to the pantry for a cup of tea, knowing you have some time before Jungkook’s meeting with his father is scheduled to end. 
The support team’s office is unnervingly quiet at 7PM with only Mr. Ri around, shaking his leg against the chair while browsing on his desktop. He greets you when you enter and then joins you to make his cup of coffee - his fourth for the day, he says - before you both head out the pantry and sit by the meeting table. 
There aren’t any words said as you both blow away the steam from your respective hot drinks, merely letting the tranquility of the evening envelop the two of you. A few minutes pass and Mr. Ri finally looks up and asks why you’re still here, to which you reply that you wanted to be around when Jungkook’s meeting finishes in case he needs you to do something.
“There’s no need to drop me home,” you tell him. “I can manage on my own.”
“You know Jungkook won’t like that,” Mr. Ri responds. “He has strict instructions to drive for you whenever you stay out late. I can’t and won’t disobey those orders.”
You know this, which is why you sit in silence with your hands on your lap as if you’re being scolded, and you nod. 
“Okay,” you say softly.  
“He’s worried, you know?” Mr. Ri says after a while. “He’s been asking me how you’re doing, as if you’re not at the point in your relationship where he can directly talk to you. But I’ve actually been worried about him this past week. He stays up late to work, then goes home to work out. He’s not himself lately, always out of it and just… sad.”
“Did he… did he say anything else? About us, specifically?”
“He didn’t tell me if anything happened but I’m guessing something did, something serious enough that you’d avoid him for days and personal enough that he won’t confront you about it.”
Your face falls, guilt painting it, something Mr. Ri picks up.
“It’s about your feelings, isn’t it?” He asks. “You like him and you can no longer deny it.”
You nod in confirmation, unable to verbalize the words that your heart has been screaming for weeks. 
“Is it so hard to admit? Is it so hard to talk about?” The older man asks. “I mean, he doesn’t tell me anything but I’ve known that man his whole life, ___. I’ll bet a lot and say that he feels the same way about you. Why are you both putting all your effort into avoiding each other instead of talking it out?”
“Because you know us, Mr. Ri. We’re the worst at these things,” you shake your head, choosing to disregard his statement that Jungkook may be reciprocating the feelings, knowing you’re not ready to think about it. “And you know this, too. It’s not just about what I feel. It’s about who he is and who I am and what those imply. It’s this complicated situation that I wouldn’t even be in if I just… if I was just strong enough to leave the first time. Or the second time.”
“Hey, you know it wasn’t about that,” he says. “You were always strong. You held on even when things were difficult—”
“Yeah, I just held on and now I’m here, caught in between liking my boss and wanting to stay away from him, from his family,” you groan in frustration. 
But you utter the thoughts that you only rarely entertain, only because they’re what held you back all those years ago.
“Am I being selfish, for wanting to leave after everything?” You ask. “They’ve been so good to me. And now that I crossed the line and fell for their son, I want to let everything go.”
“Is that really why you want to resign? Because you like Jungkook?”
“No… it isn’t just about that,” you sigh. “Or it is. A big part of it, but also not. I… you know I’ve been thinking about this since the whole thing with Mrs. Byun happened, and that was six years ago. But then CEO Jeon asked me to help Hoseok and I stayed. And it was even more important for him that I be there for Jungkook. And I am but now what? How can I continue knowing that I like him? And how can I find myself and learn who I am outside of this when I’m here, when this is all I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever given myself to? They’ll always be good to me. I feel selfish by staying, but I also feel that way if I leave.”
“None of that makes you selfish, ___. You always had a reason to leave and you could have, but there was also always gonna be a reason for you to stay,” he says. “But they were their reasons, not yours. Whether you stay despite what you feel for Jungkook or leave to find yourself and seek the happiness you deserve, you’re not being selfish.”
You look at the man whom you’ve known for years and he sees in your eyes a woman who’s just asking for any kind of comfort, of any kind of assurance because no else is around to do that.
“We do what we can at every moment, and we can live with our choices if we know they’re the best one we can make at that time,” he continues. “Whatever it is you decide to do, I hope you do it for you. You’re the only person you have to look out for.”
Right outside the door, Jungkook remains unmoving as he processes everything he’d heard, while you continue to talk inside, completely oblivious to how you’ve rendered him paralyzed. 
Jungkook’s meeting with his father ended much sooner than he expected. They merely discussed some happenings with the Board and the lunch that they’ll be hosting on Saturday to welcome some of their family’s long-time friends who are flying in from Europe. 
He headed to the support office immediately to tell Mr. Ri that he plans to go home soon but hadn’t known you were there as well. But then again, you and their trusted aide - who’s been his father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and personal assistant for decades - spend a lot of time together, so it didn’t feel off to Jungkook that you’d both be talking. He’s asked the older man to look out for you, too, especially with regards to things that he feels isn’t really his place. 
Jungkook didn’t hear much at first, initially deciding to just walk back to his office and call, but once he heard Mr. Ri asking you about resigning, he stopped in his tracks. He felt foolish to be listening in on a conversation he’s not a part of, especially since it’s also because of him.
It should’ve delighted him to hear you say that you like him. Jungkook could’ve only dreamt up that reality and it still feels surreal. You didn’t have a reason to lie and the fact that he isn’t the only one seemingly overwhelmed by his own feelings should be a good thing. 
But that also seems to be your reason for wanting to leave, and the thought breaks his heart in ways he can’t explain. You’ve apparently been planning on leaving for years but never got around to do so. If you stayed when his father asked you to, would you do the same if he asked? And he believes that up until last week, your relationship had become the most comfortable it’s ever been. You seem happy here, but why did it also seem like you just wanted to get away? 
The thoughts make his head hurt, and while a part of him wishes he hadn’t heard anything, he at least knows you plan on leaving. And that’s something he absolutely cannot bear.
The sounds of the chairs being fixed disrupt his thoughts. When he hears Mr. Ri suggest that you should start packing up, Jungkook quietly walks back to his office and nonchalantly calls the older man to inform him that he plans on staying up late and that he should drop you home already. If Mr. Ri notices the odd tone of his voice, he doesn’t say anything. He merely expresses his confirmation and not long after, Jungkook hears some shuffling outside his closed door.
“Is there anything you need from me before I leave, Mr. Jeon?” You call out, the walls in between both of you feeling higher and thicker than ever before.
He knows that you know that he no longer asks you to do anything at this hour, and he comforts himself by thinking that it’s your way of letting him know that you’re still there. But the thought is short-lived, as he once again plays the conversation he’d overheard in his mind.
“There’s none,” he says pointedly. “You may leave.”
It takes a while but he eventually hears you walk out. Jungkook feels himself breathe for the first time in the last 15 minutes, before he feels suffocated once again. 
Maybe pulling away last week when he’d been so close gave you the idea that he didn’t want you at all, and maybe that had affected you more than he expected. Maybe him, creating more distance that you’d initiated, made you think that that’s what he wanted after all that. Perhaps his being a coward in facing his own feelings had pushed you away, too, and if you’re scared of what you feel for him, maybe letting you know that he feels the same way is what will make you stay. He could be the happiness you’re searching for, Jungkook convinces himself. He could be what you want and need.
And he already knows that you’re all that for him. Whatever rules he created for himself and the limits he imposed are all pointless if he doesn’t have you around at the end of it. If his life after all this doesn’t have you in it, there’s no happiness for him. A new job for you could take you anywhere, maybe far away from where he is; it could lead you to someone, someone who isn’t him.
He hates that an overheard conversation about you resigning is what will take for him to finally be honest about what he feels for you. And that potentially losing you by his side is the push he needs to let you know that he wants you, that he wants everything with you, and that he hopes you want the same. 
It’s 9:30 PM by the time he enters the car, his head hazy from the two glasses of whiskey he had. Mr. Ri calls him out on another night of him drinking in the office and orders him to get straight to bed like he’d done a few times before when Jungkook had been too stressed and too stubborn to rest. He merely nods though but he follows through, skipping dinner then mindlessly taking a shower before falling asleep in bed after finishing a bottle of beer.
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The ringing of the alarm causes Jungkook to grunt and turn off his phone for the peace and quiet that he needs, given the throbbing of his head. But in the silence, he hears the soft knocks on his door, so consistent that he decides to just open it and ask the person on the other side to stop.
But of course, it’s you, and the way you quickly turn your head away reminds him that he’s got nothing but his sweatpants on and he’s too sleepy for anything else to register.
“It’s 7AM, Mr. Jeon. You have an executive meeting at 8,” you tell him, voice so soft and so far away. 
“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his temples to massage the pain away. “I’ll just take a shower. Don’t make breakfast anymore. We leave in 20 minutes.”
“Noted, sir,” you say, then walk back towards the kitchen.
It’s 15 minutes later when his bedroom door opens and he nervously walks over to you. Unable to still remove the image of his half-naked form in your mind, you focus your gaze elsewhere, but he forces it on him when he asks you to fix his necktie, the first time he’d ever done so.
“I was rushing,” he explains. 
You nod and head to him, hating how your hands slightly shake at feeling so close to him again. You can feel his breath as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. He probably feels as anxious as you, perhaps no longer used to this routine after you stopped it days ago. But you manage without sparing him a glance, keeping your distance and your eyes focused on anything else but him from the walk down to the car and throughout the ride to work. 
It’s difficult for you to look at him, not only because you’re ashamed but because you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Maybe his eyes will tell of his acceptance of this new dynamic. Maybe they’ll reflect anger and frustration at how you’ve disrupted his routine. Or maybe they’ll show sadness - which is what you’re most terrified of - because that’s your weakness. Any time he looks like he needs comfort or he needs you, you know you’d give in, you know you’d want to be there even if you’ve spent the past week staying as far away as possible. 
You know you don’t have much time left here. The Arts Center opens over a month from now and you’ve decided to tender your resignation soon after. You know you should be savoring whatever moments you have with him and perhaps that’s what saddens you the most because you don’t know what will come after. 
Your happiness isn’t here, and staying to find out if it’s with him isn’t worth it, not when there’s baggage you carry; not when your own past and insecurities weigh you down.
Arriving in the office, you rush to your desk then walk to his room to give him the notes he needs for the meeting. You turn towards him slowly when he calls you, your name in his voice suddenly sounding foreign.
“Can you prepare me lemon ginger tea? Please?” 
His voice is soft, as if he feels burdensome for making such a request. You want to give in so badly and ask how he’s feeling. But you stop yourself. It’s not the place nor time.
You accompany his tea with pastries, your own request for him to have breakfast, and you get your own, in response to him instructing you to do so. You see from your periphery that he’s trying to catch your attention as the meeting starts, but with this, you hold back. You don’t want to see what you now know would be sadness in his eyes.
Jungkook has entered the deepest nook of your heart, you realize. You don’t know how you let him get there, and you don’t know how to push him out. 
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“Another night of drinking, huh?” Hoseok’s unusually somber voice disrupts Jungkook’s thoughts as he zones out during lunch. “The Arts Center getting you that stressed and anxious?”
Jungkook looks at his cousin questioningly.
“I know how you look when you’re tired and this isn’t it,” Hoseok responds. “You’re hungover.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs, not wanting to get into this with a man who would know when he’s lying.
“You should be, Kook. There’s a lot going on these next few weeks and we need you at your best. Your team has worked so hard for the Arts Center,” Hoseok reminds him. “So trust them. And don’t let them down.”
As always, his words hit Jungkook where they should. Whatever’s going on in his personal life - even if it involves you, his assistant - he has to be professional first, and that means making sure that everything is ready for the launch in six weeks. There’s a lot he has to meet and prepare for, and he doesn’t know how you’re able to do it. You may be distancing yourself from him but you’re still able to focus and carry out your tasks accordingly. You’ll be fine without him, he thinks. But if you’ll go on thinking that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, he knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll regret it even more if he doesn’t ask you to stay. 
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jungkook assures his cousin. “I’ve been out of it but I’ll get my shit together.”
“Good. I don’t have to remind you that there’s a lot riding on this. But ___ is there to help. I’m here, too. You’ve got people who believe in you, okay?” Hoseok smiles, a slice of comfort that Jungkook didn’t know he needed. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Jungkook nods and heads back to his office after a full morning has passed, tricking himself into thinking that things will indeed be okay. He just needs to find the courage to face you, finally talk to you, ask you about that night, and tell you what he feels.
But even getting you alone proves to be difficult, as you have your own lunch plans that he didn’t want to interfere with, and your own deadlines that he set that he knows you’ll make sure to meet.
Jungkook gets caught up in the afternoon in another meeting with some of the Board members who came to visit. Biting his lip in frustration, he manages to not lose his mind as he sits through it, merely hoping to the heavens that you haven’t left yet despite the late hour. 
He speed walks down the hallway once he gets to his floor and almost panics when he sees your work space empty. But he spots your unfinished cup of coffee and he knows you won’t leave without cleaning up. He briefly sighs in relief when he hears shuffling from inside his room, walking closer to find you standing by his desk, with your back facing the door. You place a folder on his tray for signatures and a bound manual for review, then turn around and jerk in surprise when you see him standing there.
“I didn’t know your meeting had ended, sir,” you say, the formality grating his ears. All he wants is to hear you speak to him casually again, for you to call him by his name once more.
“It just did,” he hums. “I didn’t know if you were still here. I wanted to see you before you could leave.”
His words catch you off-guard but you try to look unaffected. 
“Is there anything else you need me to do, sir?” You ask, knowing that he’s past giving you work at this hour on a Friday, but you’re too nervous to think of what else he needs you for.
“No. I…” he stutters. “You, uh, you’ve been avoiding me,” he manages to say, his eyes pleading for you to look at him. 
But still, you don’t.
“I’m with you everyday, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your tone cold. “I can’t possibly be avoiding you.”
“You haven’t looked at me all week.”
As if in reflex, you glance at him, then shift your eyes on the couch to your left.
“That doesn’t count,” he says, his voice oozing in desperation for you to just spare him some time, something you’ve never heard before.
So you give in, as you slowly meet his eyes, and you’re reminded why you didn’t want to do it in the first place. They’re so sullen. Tired, it seems, but just lacking in light. They were always so expressive, even when they’re angry, and even more when they’re sad. 
“I just…” you start, knowing that with all that’s happened and with all the stress and pressure he has to endure, you can’t be another one in his list to have to try to figure out. You at least owe it to him to be honest.
You look at the door, suddenly conscious of who might wander in your area, and Jungkook takes your cue, closing it once you nod. 
“So, why have you been avoiding me?” He asks again, his voice gaining a bit of life now that you’ve given him a chance to talk.
“I was just ashamed,” you admit, looking away as the scene from last week plays in your mind again. “I said things I shouldn’t have and they made you uncomfortable and—”
“How do you know that?” He interjects.
“Because you pulled away!” You say too loudly, lowering your head in embarrassment at the clear frustration you’re expressing. “I thought you wanted to… uh…”
“Kiss you,” he finishes, earning him the slightest of nods from you. 
“But you didn’t and I just felt so embarrassed,” you say, your lips quivering now at how much you’re saying, at how much you’re baring yourself to him, unsure if he’ll do the same. “That was completely out of line.”
“You weren’t wrong though,” he almost whispers as he slowly walks towards you. “About what I wanted to do. You seemed to want that, too, but we were out there and I… I was scared that if I’d done anything you weren’t ready for, then I’d push you away. I still did anyway. Because you’ve spent the entire week avoiding me, talking to me formally, not fixing my tie…”
You stop the giggle that you almost let out, but you can’t help your tiny smile as he whines about what you’ve been purposely doing. 
“I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you after that,” you explain, knowing there’s so much more to say but that you’ll start with this. “But you avoided me, too,” you suddenly pout. 
“What did you expect me to do?” He exclaims. “You did it first! You know I’m not good with these things.”
“Neither am I.”
Jungkook controls himself from kissing the frown off your face and instead, he walks closer. He gets to appreciate you now as he shamelessly eyes your form, the pastel-colored long sleeved blouse tucked inside your white skirt making his heart race. 
He spots your shy smile as you try to turn away, and he steps closer, wanting to see more. 
“You still aren’t gonna look at me?” He asks, the soft desperation in his voice prompting you to be bold again.
“I can’t. I might lose my mind,” you admit, groaning right after at your own honesty. 
“I’d quite like that,” he hums. “I… I was actually losing my mind all week. It didn’t feel right to have you feel so far away. I wanted to fix things but I didn’t know how.”
“That makes both of us,” you sigh, allowing yourself to finally gaze at him in his black suit, the classic look taking your breath away every time. “But I guess it’s the same with me. I didn’t know how badly I wanted you close until you weren’t anymore.”
You hesitatingly reach out your hand, an attempt to let him know that close is what you want him to be, but also to see for yourself if this is real, if he really is just breaths away from you, and if he could be even closer.
“I’m not pulling away this time,” he assures you, his boyish smile sending your mind in a frenzy.
Your fingers graze his chest, the way it quickly rises and falls telling you that his heart is probably racing as fast as yours. You fiddle with the neck of his tie before pulling it to bring him closer. He follows your lead, stepping forward and meeting your eyes, seeming like he doesn’t want his off of you. 
“So uh, are you losing your mind now?” He whispers teasingly. 
The way he utters the words with such yearning is a contrast to the shy look on his face. It’s a side of him you’re not ready for, but it’s one you’re thoroughly enjoying. It’s also pushing you to be even more shameless, as you nod and take his hand this time, placing it on your waist so you could feel his touch again. He’s gentle, trailing his fingers up and down your sides. 
“I am,” you manage to say, and you wish he could tell by the way you’re panting that his effect on you is way beyond your control now, and that it’s something you want to embrace. You mirror his smile, soft and warm yet full of desire.
He makes his move, placing his hand on your cheek as he eliminates whatever distance is left. And he stands there, just one breath away. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that night, wishing I’d done things differently,” he heaves, his eyes flitting to your lips constantly, “wishing I had been brave enough to do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long.”
You lick your lips in tandem with his, and once you feel him thumb your cheek, it’s all over for you. With a whisper of his name, you hold your breath, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours. 
He kisses you deeply, expressing just how much he’s been wanting to do this. You smile as you return his desire, suddenly feeling like you’re floating, as if he’s some dream that you’re able to reach, like he’s that beautiful thing that’s tangible, that you can touch, that you can taste.
You moan once his tongue gains entrance, entangling with yours and dominating you immediately until he’s all you can breathe in. He cups your face, directing it where he wants, while his one hand trails down your back to knead your ass, as if to keep himself steady as he loses himself in you. Your breathing quickens even more as the pleasure rises, and with your fingers palming his chest and gripping his collar, he pushes you against his table. 
He cages you and keeps you in place while he devours your lips, and you feel him all over you just as you wanted. You’re hypnotized by his scent, by his warm breath, and by the large hands that now grip your waist and lift you to sit on the edge of his desk. 
Your mind is hazy, high on the drug that is his kiss, lust-filled and passionate and relentless. You yearn for him even more the longer you taste him, feel him, and there’s no part of you that wants this to end. Your moans push him to kiss you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess and with a mind that's truly unable to think a single thought outside of this trance-like feeling. His arms now wrap around you, and his hands, seemingly desperate to touch every part of you that he can, trail up and down your back, as if to caress you, as if to say that he won’t stop, that he won’t let you go.
Finally needing air, he removes his lips from yours only to travel to the most sensitive parts of you - on the shell of your ear that his tongue grazes repeatedly, and on your neck that he licks and sucks vigorously. You feel the chills all over your body, and you grind against him to try to satiate that growing need of yours, as you start to feel the dampness in your underwear. His hardening length makes you want everything he can give you, rules and boundaries be damned. 
This isn’t like you but you’ve never felt this much pleasure and desire in all your life. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the ecstasy that kissing and feeling him would give. You feel his desperation and desire for you, as he grunts and moans your name, aching to feel more, to do more. You want to live in this moment, and then live it everyday, just take him in and take everything and give him everything. 
But you should’ve known that some things are too good to be true. And much as you hope and imagine for things to turn out a certain way in belief that you deserve good things in this world, they don’t. Those don’t happen to people like you. There’s always something underneath it all, as the fantasy shatters like a glass ceiling breaking at his words.
“Stay, ___. Don’t leave,” he hums against you, the tip of his nose gliding against your neck as he takes in your scent. “Please don’t resign. I can’t… I—”
You feel frozen as you process what he’s said. “Wha-what?” You manage to ask, your mind slowly waking up now. 
His lips take a pause at devouring your skin and he faces you, his chest heaving and his eyes glassy and pleading as he repeats his words.
“Don’t leave, ___. Don’t resign. Stay with me. I need you next to me.” 
“Where is this coming from?” You demand, your heart racing now for a different reason, your anxiety building at how he could’ve known of your plans. You pull away to get a better look at him, with guilt now painting his eyes.
“I… I overheard you and Mr. Ri talking last night,” he admits shamefully. “I didn’t mean to. I was going to just walk away but you talked about leaving and what you feel about me and I just… I froze. I don’t want you to go anywhere, ___. I need you here.”
The silence drags on as you let his words settle, words you thought you wanted to hear. But not like this, you realize. This isn’t how you imagined he’d tell you he wants to be with you. 
He attempts to cup your cheek again but you pull yourself back, the rejection breaking him this time.
“You knew I wanted to kiss you last week,” you start, your voice shaking as the pieces fit together. “You knew yet you pulled away. You let a whole week pass with this distance, with no attempt from you to talk to me about it, or to even tell me what you feel but then you learn last night, after listening to a conversation you had no part in, that I like you. And tonight, you kiss me because suddenly you need me? Because you want me to stay next to you?”
“I—” Jungkook starts, unable to say anything as you put it the way you do. 
He’s wanted you for so long and always had reasons to keep his distance. He tried to gain the courage to talk to you this week, even as you avoided him, but he didn’t. There was just so much fear, so much worry about what he should do, about you asking him to forget about it, about possibly pushing you away even more. He didn’t intend for things to happen this way but for you to think that he’s only doing this in an attempt to keep you from resigning is all kinds of wrong, even if in hindsight, that’s exactly what it looks like. He could’ve said something earlier, he could’ve told you what he felt, and he would’ve been brave enough if he really wanted to. 
“You knew how I felt and you kissed me so I’d stay,” you repeat. “You hate change and me leaving will change everything for you and this… this is how you make sure I don’t.”
Stepping down from the desk, you realize how much you’d lost yourself in him, with your skirt bunched up and your blouse all creased. You fix yourself, suddenly ashamed, and suddenly unsure where you stand. It took so much of you to admit what you felt for him and now it seems that he hadn’t been into you the way that you thought. 
You want him with you, but he wants you here, that’s the difference. 
“I… want you,” Jungkook says, the words suddenly hard for him to say, as he gets choked up at the distance you’re creating. “I guess I always have. I just couldn’t do anything because I had to be professional and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross. But I couldn’t help it. Those don’t matter to me anymore. Only you do.” 
His pleading eyes ask you to believe him, to understand him this time. But your silence and the way you look at him in disappointment tell him it’s not something you’re able to do. 
“I never thought you’d feel the same way,” he continues. “And now I know that you do and that just means we can figure it out, right? Staying means we get to be together everyday. We… we get to have this everyday. Don’t you… don’t you want that?”
This is when you realize that much as you want to believe in his sincerity, it’s hard when he thinks of you as a necessity. You make his life easier. You’re his assistant, after all. And that makes you unsure if he only wants you because he needs you, or if they’re just the same thing to him. 
He didn’t even ask you why you wanted to leave. Maybe that should tell you enough.
“___, please. I just want to be with you.”
It’s also at this moment when you realize just how much you’ve fallen for him. You’d feared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and that means putting another person’s needs ahead of yours again, just like what you’ve done all these years. Staying would mean that you’d be unable to find yourself outside of all this, and you’ve given up too much not to choose your own happiness this time, even if it means saying goodbye to the person who also makes you happy.
Finding what little strength you have in you, you turn to him. “I don’t want to stay, Jungkook,” you say, your heart breaking as you utter the words, even more when you ask him to forget about everything that happened tonight. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. Not like this. I’m so sorry.”
With your smashed heart in your hands, you do the hard thing and walk out the door, leaving in your wake a man whose broken pieces that you’ve put together all shattered once again. 
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Walking down the block to get to the bus stop feels like a marathon, as the street feels so long with the heavy burden you’re carrying weighing you down too much. But you manage to get there, only to decide that you’d much rather spend the ride home on your own. You turn to a street to hail a cab then realize once you get in one that it was the spot where Jungkook had seen you, drenched under the rain with a sprained ankle. 
He healed parts of you that night, with his quiet assurance that you didn’t have to go through your struggles on your own. You’d hold on to that thought months later, though you’re unsure about now - much as things hurt at this moment, all you want is to be alone.
You get off two stops early and mindlessly walk towards the convenience store, thinking that some snacks for dinner would do. You don’t really feel like eating but your body’s needs are greater than your own desire to eat. Walking down the aisles, you decide you’re only good for some cup noodles tonight. You don’t even deserve boiled eggs that you suddenly craved, nor honey chips, and you definitely don’t deserve dessert after what you allowed to happen earlier. 
You stop your movements once you realize you’re sitting on the same spot where you and Jungkook had eaten when he drove you home that night he took you to the park. It had been a terrible evening after that incident with your ex, but Jungkook was the protective one who helped shoulder all the anger that you were too exhausted to feel. He was a reliable and comforting presence, familiar yet new with his warmth. During the occasional moments in the weekend after when your mind would go to that night, you’d think of Jungkook and how he made you feel safe.
It feels too much, so you take your noodles and finish them on the bench outside. You walk home after, letting the crisp evening air envelop you as your mind replays what happened. 
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to feel someone the way you wanted to feel him, but you suppose that’s why it hurts as much as it does. You wanted him to want you as much as you did, and you were perhaps foolish to think he’d have the same reasons as you. Maybe you were really just stupid for feeling anything in the first place, knowing your place in his world. You’re everything convenient and easy and familiar and despite the week of walking on eggshells around him, you gave in so quickly. He knew what to do when it came to you. 
And maybe that’s on you. You allowed yourself to feel so much for a man whose life is so intertwined with yours that it’s hard to know what’s real. Yet you know that despite all that, your desire for him is still too strong. It’s why you had to leave right away. 
Another moment of him pleading for you to not resign and you might’ve given in again. Another second of hearing him ask you to be with him and you would’ve believed him - that there was sincerity in all that, that he’d be with you regardless if you stayed in the company or not. Now you’re left with the thought that the convenience was what he wanted, that as he crossed the line, it was all or nothing for him. And that you’d be the weak one, willing to give up what else you could be outside of all this just for him. 
Perhaps you’re also asking for too much. He’s used to a life without much consequences to his actions. There’s a lot he doesn’t know, especially what you had to endure and give up to be here and what you want out of life now that you’re old enough to take control of it. Maybe for him, asking you to stay was that declaration and proof of his feelings; doing so took so much out of him already that thinking of what life would be like without being with you everyday was too hard of a reality to accept or work around. 
You’re too out of it that you don’t realize that you’ve been standing outside your door. You’re thankful for the weekend at least. You’ll spend half of it in bed, and the other half preparing yourself for how you’ll face him again, and how you’ll finally say goodbye. 
You enter and sigh at the warmth inside. Dropping your bag on the floor, you stand by your tiny dining table and take a bite off the apple you find in your fridge. You gaze at your shelf, the one filled with photos of your family and friends and a few more of different sceneries that you took using the disposable camera that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday. It’s another reminder of how much a part of your life he’s become, how, of all the people in the world, he’d been the one to show you that capturing moments is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted. 
You often wondered what moments he liked to capture. He doesn’t have photos in his penthouse other than those of structures and buildings that are artistically taken. There are framed old blueprints and historical pieces but nothing of him and the people in his life. 
Maybe he doesn’t have good enough memories he wants to keep. For a short moment, you wished that the times he shared with you are ones he’d like to hold onto. But maybe the idea would hurt more - you’ll just be a memory like he would be to you. 
You always wanted to keep only good ones of him, but the sight of him rooted in his spot and in shock as you turned him down is far from something you want to remember. He’s something you didn’t know you wanted, but he stands between you and the life you’ve always wished for yourself - one where you get to decide, to be free, to be happy. 
He’ll let you go and forget all this, you think to yourself. You’ll be the one who walked away. And he’ll be the one who didn’t run after you.
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Jungkook is stunned as he watches your retreating form. The sounds of your heels against the marble floor disappear as he remains unmoving from his spot in his room where he’d kissed you just moments earlier. You felt and tasted just like he imagined, and the moment his lips touched yours, he knew he’d want to keep kissing you over and over again. 
It was the first time in a long time that he allowed himself to be honest about how he felt, giddy emotions included. It felt freeing to be able to admit all of that to you after all these months of denying it and walking around eggshells when it came to you. He’d been sure, after last night, that you felt the same way, even more when he felt how your body reacted and how your heart raced, aching for him as much as his heart was yearning for you. 
You sounded hypnotizing, too. The way you’d moaned his name ignited something in him that none of the women he’d slept with had ever done before, and he knows it’s because he’d never felt anything genuine for them. They were good for the moment but he knew, especially the instance that he felt you close, that he wanted you for more than that. He wanted the soft touches and the gentle whispers, the longing looks and the intertwined hands. He wanted more than he thought he would, but during his most vulnerable state, he uttered the words he’d been dying to say since last night when he learned of your plans.
He asked you to stay. He told you he needs you, that he wants to be with you.
They sounded like pleas and maybe that’s what they were. From the deepest and coldest nooks of his heart, he was pleading for you to not leave. He’d finally admitted what he’d been so scared to accept, but all his words did were hurt you. 
You insisted that all he cared about was the convenience of being together everyday, that you staying meant he’d get to keep all that was familiar. And he doesn’t know what would be taken away from you if you did. 
You wanted him, too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough? And wasn’t being with him all that mattered? 
Sure, there’d be complications, but those are things he knows you’d both be able to face, they’re things you can navigate around and figure out together because this isn't just a one-time, spur-of-the-moment type of thing. He wants all of you, everything with you, whatever it takes. 
He hadn’t realized it until that second he held you in his arms. And then again when you pulled away, looked at him with glassy eyes, and told him you couldn’t stay. 
He’d been too hurt to run after you. He didn’t know what to say then. How would he, when you’re the one who couldn’t commit to what you felt by staying around? He felt that betrayal, of that feeling of inadequacy, of his feelings for you not being enough. He bared his emotions to you after being so scared of doing so, and then you crushed his heart just like that, with his broken pieces that you’d just put together, scattered on the floor. 
This isn’t like him. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to feel so much for another person, to care for them, to want them in a way that scares him. But you showed him a life where it was possible to open himself up again, to find out what happiness could feel like this time, and in that same breath, you took it all away.
He’s not sure where to go from here. But he decides he’ll think about that tomorrow. Tonight, he just wants to forget. Tonight, he just wants to wallow in his sadness, erase the memory of your touch and the feel of your mouth against his, and let it all go. 
Jungkook instructs Mr. Ri to go home. He’ll drive himself, he insists. There’s just no one right now he wants to be around. 
He drinks a glass of whiskey for the road and manages to get home in one piece. He settles on the couch as he finishes another half bottle, then chugs down a few cans of beer after. The image of you gets blurry. His mouth numbs and he starts forgetting your taste on his lips, too. 
His head falls on the pillow and his hand mindlessly reaches out. There’s no heartbeat that he feels; he’s forgotten how fast yours was already. The sound of your laughter and then of your moans is replaced with a buzzing in his ear as his mind starts to fall away. 
The warmth of your body is gone but somehow he feels hot, so hot but he can’t get his clothes off. He struggles a little, his fingers aren’t doing their job so he gives up instead, curls into the corner of the couch, and for the briefest moment, he sees your smile so clearly. And then his mind drifts away completely, taking his confusion and yearning for you along with it. 
At least for now, there’s not much of you he remembers. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that’ll all change when he wakes up in the morning and searches for you, knowing you won’t be around to tell him that everything is gonna be okay.
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Hoseok massages his temple as his sixth call to his cousin in the last half hour remains unanswered. 
“He’s still not picking up,” he groans, the unusual feeling of annoyance bubbling inside him at Jungkook’s irresponsibility.
It’s Saturday morning and some friends of their family flew from Europe last night for lunch at the Jeons’ estate. This gathering was scheduled in time for their grandfather’s death anniversary today, and it’s an event that Mr. Jeon was adamant that Jungkook and Hoseok attend as their respective families’ representatives and as heirs of the company. Those friends had been there when their grandfather built Jeon Corporation from the ground up, and welcoming them is a sign of respect for that friendship and for the memory of the man they’re celebrating today. 
Jungkook had informed Mr. Ri that he’ll be driving himself to the estate and promised to be there before 11 AM, as what his father had requested. It’s half past that and he’s still nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been picking up his phone and his friends claim they don’t know where he is. Knowing how important today is, Hoseok wanted to accompany Mr. Ri in going to the younger man’s apartment to pick him up and find out why he’s late. When the elder Jeon asks, which he will, Hoseok would at least have a reason to give. It just better be a good one.
They both arrive at the building and are informed that Jungkook’s cars are still in their respective slots. He’s not in any of the amenities and the guards report that they haven’t seen him since he arrived on his own last night. He may not be a fan of these types of events but Jungkook always shows up. He knows what today means for their family; if not for his father, then at least for his grandfather, a man he respected and looked up to. If, for some reason, he failed to wake up, then he must be in a bad condition, and Hoseok either has to scold his cousin, or cover for him.
With no one answering the door, Mr. Ri uses his access and enters. It’s dark and quiet inside, with the blinds all closed. When he and Hoseok find Jungkook passed out on the couch with an empty whiskey bottle and beer cans on the floor, it’s the same moment that Mr. Ri’s phone rings, and it’s your name that lights up the screen.
“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you groggily say. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I had a late night and just woke up. Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure,” he sighs, as he watches Hoseok pull Jungkook from his cowering form in an attempt to get him to wake up.
“What do you mean?” You ask, standing from your bed now, suddenly awake. 
“I was calling to ask if you knew where Jungkook was. Their family gathering is today and he was supposed to be at his parents’ house 30 minutes ago but he wasn’t. He wasn’t picking up our calls either.”
“Oh, I… I don’t know where he is,” you say softly, the mention of his name reminding you of what transpired last night, the image of Jungkook’s dejected look appearing in your mind. You worry about him though, wondering what time he got home. “Have you found him? Is he okay?” 
“Hoseok and I are at his apartment and he’s passed out drunk,” Mr. Ri states, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes and mumbles some words that the older man has to walk closer to hear. “What happened last night, ___? Why is he calling your name? And why is he asking for you to come back?”
It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Jungkook had spent last night drinking his feelings away. You know enough from your time with him that it’s what he does when he’s stressed or mad or frustrated, and then he wakes up the next morning and hits the gym to deal with his hangover. There’s none of that today, apparently, and you stop yourself from instructing Mr. Ri to prepare him some lemon ginger tea. 
“What happened last night, ___?” He repeats. “Did you fight?”
“We…” you start, knowing that if there’s anyone who has to know about last night, it’s the man on the other end of the phone. “We, uh… we kissed. And then he asked me not to resign then I pulled away.”
Walking towards the kitchen to hand Hoseok a glass of water, Mr. Ri asks if you’d told Jungkook of your plans, stating that he hadn’t told him about it.
“He overheard us talking last Thursday,” you respond. “He knew what I felt about him, kissed me, then asked me to stay. He said he didn’t want me to go, that he wanted to be with me, and that we could be together everyday. It didn’t feel right,” you continue, your voice shaking now as you recall the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. We were supposed to talk about it. He wasn’t supposed to use my feelings against me like that.”
“Did you tell him why you’re planning on leaving?”
“No… He just went on about needing me to be with him and I… I couldn’t bear it,” you say, feeling the tears dance around your eyes. “You told me that I could always leave but even then, I’d always have a reason to stay but it would be their reason, not mine. I finally built the courage to decide on this because you know I need this. I don’t want him to be my reason this time. Or else I’ll never be able to let all of it go.”
“I know,” Mr. Ri sighs, knowing more than anyone what you mean. 
He’ll never be brave like you, but he understands that burden, that desire to just be free; he knows what it’s like to be held back even if it’s your own decision. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always think you have a debt to be paid. He knows he does, but he’ll always believe that you don’t. Surviving was always enough.
“But I think he has to know, ___,” he continues. “He wouldn’t let himself go through this kind of suffering if you don’t mean that much to him. You have to tell him the truth. And I mean everything. You owe it to yourself, too. I know he means a lot to you but you can’t move forward in any way, with or without him, if you’ll just keep him in the dark.”
You let Mr. Ri’s words settle. You told yourself the moment you entered the company that you won’t let your past define you, including your relationship with this family. You’ll work hard and everyone else will know you for that, and not for any other reason. You also knew that you’d spend every second of being here trying to prove to yourself that you’re capable, despite the irony that you were the one defining your time here based on your past that you just somehow couldn’t run away from. 
You weren’t supposed to feel anything for Jungkook. You could’ve gone on with your plan of resigning without feeling bad that you were leaving him behind. And even in that alternative reality where he’d ask you to stay, it would’ve been easy to say no. What makes this difficult is that you started to care. You got scared that if he asked you, you would stay. And now that he did, you have to be stronger than your desire to be with him.
Leaving would be hard, but staying would be much harder. 
You wish it was easy to make him understand. But you suppose without him knowing the truth, he wouldn’t be able to. 
So you give Mr. Ri permission. 
“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say. “You would. Make him understand. Maybe he’ll let me go. Maybe he’ll still come after me. And maybe he’ll forgive me, too.”
Mr. Ri hums and drops the call. He returns to the living room where Jungkook is now seated upright on the couch, downing his second glass of water and taking medicine to deal with the hangover. The blinds are now up, causing him to squint his eyes. At least he looks alive now. 
“That was ___,” Mr. Ri says. “She was wondering how you were.”
“Did you tell her I look terrible?”Jungkook asks bitterly.
“I did. She also told me what happened.”
“What… happened?” Hoseok wonders. “Did you have a big fight?”
Knowing he has no way out of this, Jungkook tells the truth. “We, uh, we kissed,” he answers, earning him a gasp from his cousin, who clarifies that while he’s not that surprised, he’s curious as to why both of you aren’t together right now.
“___ plans on resigning. He asked her not to,” Mr. Ri answers. “But you… you have to let her go, Jungkook. She needs to learn who she is and what she can do without anything holding her back.”
“If that’s her reason, then she has to know that she can keep learning who she is and what she can do here, with me,” Jungkook insists, slowly gaining clarity, as all the words he couldn’t say last night suddenly come out so easily. “There’s so much she can do. If what we feel for each other is the issue and that means she can’t directly work for me, then there are other departments where she’d fit well in. This isn’t just about convenience for me. I want to see her everyday but having her around means I get to make sure she’s taken care of, that she’s treated well.”
“And then what? She’ll feel indebted to you because of that?” Mr. Ri counters. “This is more than just developing her skills or building her career, Jungkook. This is about being someone outside of this company. It’s about doing something without feeling like she constantly has to prove that she deserves what she has.”
“And she does. Who does she have to prove anything to? We’re beyond that. Everyone knows she’s capable.”
“She has to prove it to herself. It may be hard for you to understand but she… she won’t get to accept all that she is until she’s ridden herself of the burden she carries. For as long as she works for your family, she’ll always feel it.”
The words feel a little too personal, Jungkook thinks, as Mr. Ri talks about your insecurities as if he’d seen you live them, and perhaps he has. The older man witnessed those first few turbulent weeks, and having known you since you started working here through the CEO, perhaps Mr. Ri had seen how your spirit broke a little because of Jungkook.
But still, something about the way Mr. Ri looks sullenly at him says that there’s more to what the older man had seen, as if he himself is pleading for Jungkook to let you go this way, as if the care runs deep and the words carry so much more emotion.
“She needs this, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri continues. “She’s planned on leaving a few times before but her gratitude towards your family always pulled her back. If you really care about her, you won’t let that happen this time. If you want to be with her, you’ll have to do it without her being here. Regardless of what she feels for you, she needs this more. You can let her go without really letting her go, you have to know that.”
It all feels too much and Jungkook’s mind is filled with so many questions. What do you owe his family? How does proving yourself have anything to do with leaving the company? How does he fit into all this? What do you need time away for? And how can he be with you at the end of it? Would you still want that, given that he didn’t even ask you why?
“How are you sure that’s what she needs?” Jungkook asks, curiosity getting the best of him.  
“I’ve known her for 20 years, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I know it’s what she believes.”
Jungkook may still be dealing with a hangover, but he knows his ears didn’t betray him. Twenty years, that’s how long you’ve known the man he trusts with his life, the man his father trusts with his family’s life. 
The tale is an open secret. Ri Byung-hun was a kid who grew up in the streets. He tried to steal from Jungkook’s grandfather, whose construction business then was slowly taking off. The elder man took pity on the young teen and sent him to school, and Byung-hun showed his gratitude by working for the family, eventually becoming Jungkook’s father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and closest confidant all in one. The loyalty goes both ways, and it’s stood the test of time. 
Jungkook doesn’t know all the details but he knows enough. What he doesn’t know is who you are in Mr. Ri’s life, and why Jungkook hadn’t heard of you before. 
“How do you know ___?” Jungkook finally manages to ask. “Who is she to you?”
“I know ___ because of her mother. And over 20 years ago, Cho Hye-soo was your father’s assistant.”
“She— what?” 
Jungkook can’t hide his shock, and neither can Hoseok, who looks just as surprised about the truth as he is. His cousin would’ve been in his early teens at that time, and as it was when it came to their family’s children, training to become company heirs starts early, but they don’t get immersed until during their late teenage years. 
“I… I know Mrs. Cho,” Hoseok says. “I’ve met her several times but I… I never knew. They never said anything.”
“It wasn’t something they wanted people to know,” Mr. Ri explains. “Other than both of your parents, I’m the only other person who does. Too much time has passed for people to make the connection. It was just better that no one knew.” 
“What else did they not want people to know?” Jungkook asks. “What did ___ and her mom do? What… what do they owe our family?”
The elder man knew that at some point, Jungkook was going to have to learn the truth. He just didn’t think it would have to be under these conditions, and that he’d be the one telling the young man about how your lives are intertwined, that whatever pain you both carried growing up, those would always lead you back to each other. 
“Your father and Hye-soo were no different to how you and ___ are,” Mr. Ri starts. “He’d just been appointed President and he was under a lot of pressure - from your grandfather, the Board, the rest of your family… He was always stressed and it didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, just like you. That obviously affected your family, but it also affected those who worked for him, especially Hye-soo, who felt that she had a lot to prove.”
She didn’t have a Seoul education but she was smart and resourceful, incredibly hardworking and devoted, something you inherited from her, the elder man shares. The similarities are striking, and Jungkook braces himself, hoping that they end there. 
“She always had to work overtime, including weekends, and that took a lot of time away from being with ___. Hye-soo would leave her daughter in the library where her friend worked, and that seemed to be enough. But of course, it wasn’t easy, especially with a partner who lost his job and started drinking to cope.”
As Mr. Ri continues, Jungkook starts to fear something else, and so he asks. 
“Did… did he hurt them?”
“He yelled a lot,” Mr. Ri answers. “I’d hear it sometimes during breaks when she’s on the phone with him and it crushed me every time. Hye-soo wouldn’t say much, just that he was a good guy who just didn’t know how to deal with hardships. She never justified his actions until of course, that piece of shit started hitting her.”
Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words, unable to imagine growing up in a household like that - feeling afraid, unsafe, and unfree. 
“Hye-soo assured me that Kang-ho never hurt ___. She was good at that, at protecting her child. One time, she was called to work on a Saturday and that didn’t go well with him, but she… she always puts her daughter first, and that meant work would always be her priority because it’s what pays the bills and what sends her to school,” Mr. Ri narrates, his eyes growing more dejected by the second as he recalls those times. 
“She was rushing and couldn’t properly conceal the bruise on her face. She was worried that’s why she took ___ with her. Hye-soo kept crying as your father asked her what happened. She apologized for being late and for bringing her daughter to work, and she asked to stay in the office for the night until she figured out where they could go. I had never seen her break down like that,” he says, his voice shaking now. “And I won’t forget how scared ___ looked. She was just 10 years old then, clinging to her mother and not wanting to let her go. We were all strangers to her but somehow, she knew that we were there to protect them.”
The silence goes on, as both men take in Mr. Ri’s words, but it’s Hoseok who asks what happened after, and eventually, what got you here. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon didn’t hesitate to help,” the older man shares. “They had Hye-soo and ___ stay at the staff house in their estate for a few nights until they got a new place to stay. I helped them get their stuff after Kang-ho figured out what was happening and ran.  The police had a warrant for his arrest but they couldn’t find him for days.” 
Turning to Jungkook, he adds, “your parents paid for all the legal and medical fees. Because Kang-ho knew they were helping, you all had to go away until he was found. Hye-soo and ___ went to Busan where he couldn’t trace them; your parents stayed in one of their houses in Gwangju while you and your brother were in Gwacheon.” Mr. Ri sighs at the memory as he recalls those days. “The reason why you were in that cabin was so they could protect you. I know you held a grudge against them for years because you thought they just left you there but they couldn’t stay with you, Jungkook. You were all in danger and they had to keep you and Jeong-sik safe.”
Jungkook looks back at that night when everything changed for him. Things already weren’t going well with his brother; the three-year gap and the way they were always compared kept them from getting along. His parents knew that, yet they still left him with Jeong-sik, who abandoned him in the woods when they played hide-and-seek. That’s where Jungkook was left alone, lost and scared under the rain, the thunder roaring as he yelled for someone to come. He’s always lived with that fear, always carried that memory of anger and blame within him that transformed into a habit of just pushing people away, of keeping them out because that was better to accept than the knowledge that people he trusted left him on his own. 
But there’s a reason, he learns now, one that his parents kept from him to protect you and your mother, too. It’s all too much, but he thinks now that maybe there’s a reason why you were so patient with him, why you didn’t judge him that night at the guest house, why you somehow understood what he was so scared of. He doesn’t know if you know that the night at the cabin had anything to do with what you and your mother went through, but regardless, maybe that’s why he always felt so strongly about you. The connection he was yearning for was always there, it’s tied to something, and he realizes it’s tied to your shared past.
“Did the police find the man?” Jungkook asks now, his headache somehow worsening from all the things he’s learning. But he just wants to know that you weren’t even more hurt, that there was a way that his parents kept you safe. 
“I did,” Mr. Ri responds. “I still had contact with people in the streets, and I left Gwacheon once I got a call that they knew where he was staying. I hunted him down and I handed him over… with a bloodied face and a few broken bones. They charged him for domestic violence and a few other crimes, including drug possession that would keep him in prison for years, long enough for Hye-soo and ___ to recover.”
“And what about you? Were you charged?” Jungkook wonders.
“No, I claimed self-defense and I—”
“But it wasn’t, was it?” Jungkook counters, knowing there’s more to what Mr. Ri is saying. 
“It wasn’t,” the old man admits, turning away as he says the words. “I could’ve done more but I… I couldn’t lose myself to the anger even if it was all I felt. I knew Hye-soo wouldn’t have forgiven me if I did.”
“You loved her, didn’t you?” Jungkook says, dawning on him now that everything Mr. Ri had done was so he could protect your mother and you. He realizes that all the times that the elder man looked out for you was because he was looking out for someone he truly cared about, someone who mattered the most to the person who mattered the most to him.
“I did,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I still do.”
Jungkook recalls the night during the team building and the elder man’s words, about the woman he’d loved for so long, and that moving on from her meant expending all that love to those he cares about, and now Jungkook knows that he was referring to you. 
“Did she know? And did she love you back?”
“She… she asked me to move to Busan with her and ___,” Mr. Ri answers, his eyes faraway as memories of that conversation come rushing back, how he’d wanted to just run away and build a life he never thought he could have with the woman he’d fallen so hard for, but how he had to make the hardest decision then, knowing it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. 
“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook wonders. 
“I owe everything I have to your family, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri explains. “They gave me a second chance. Your grandfather got me off the streets, your father taught me everything I know, they… they had my records cleaned. They did it when I was a kid and they did it again when I was an adult. The only way I could ever pay them back was through my loyalty. I couldn’t leave, not after everything they’ve done for me.”
“But you loved her. She was your second chance,” Jungkook argues.
“And that love caused me to commit a crime I shouldn’t have. I was going to pay for it one way or another,” Mr. Ri responds. “That’s how I chose to do it, by letting her go, knowing that I’d be able to look after her and ___ better that way. Your father would protect me, and I would protect them. That’s… that’s how things go.”
It’s a tragic love story, Jungkook thinks. Two people who feel so much having to let each other go, their own pasts pushing them towards opposite directions. Decisions were made and that pulled them apart. He supposes that reciprocated feelings aren’t always enough.
“What happened after that?” Hoseok asks now, wanting to know as well how you and your mother managed, and if there’s any more danger that you face.
“They stayed in Busan for a few years. They only returned to Daegu after they learned that Kang-ho died in prison after acquiring some respiratory disease,” Mr. Ri replies. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon helped with the move, too. They had me check on Hye-soo and ___ almost every month, just to make sure they were doing well. It was hard, of course. Hye-soo wasn’t earning the same as she was so she took another job just to keep ___ in a good school. Mr. Jeon knew that, so he kept offering to pay for her education but Hye-soo always turned him down. That continued until she got to college, and knowing that her mom won’t accept help again, ___ was the one who decided to take the offer. They paid for her tuition, and she eventually got an internship in the company. She took the job offer, too, and she’s just been working hard ever since, thinking that she has everything to prove.”
“Why does my father think he can buy people’s loyalty just like that?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “It traps people… it gives them no option.”
“I know it may seem that way but your father knows how important loyalty is, and it’s something that he gives, too. He trusts me just as much I trust him,” Mr. Ri defends. “But when it comes to Hye-soo and ___, it isn’t about loyalty but guilt. He blames himself for what happened to them. Even if it was all Kang-ho’s fault, your father always believed that if he hadn’t been so demanding, things wouldn’t have escalated. It was all the overtime, all the unfair requests that took Hye-soo’s time from her partner, from her daughter. He carries that guilt with him and how he treated her. In a way, I think that was his wake-up call. Work stopped consuming him after. He became considerate of his staff, asking about their families and how they’re doing. He tried to make it up to you and your brother but that seemed to be the hardest thing for him; he didn’t know how to get your trust back.”
“But wasnt ___ choosing to work here about loyalty? She stayed every time he asked her to. She wouldn’t have if she felt indebted to our family,” Jungkook remarks, not wanting to delve into his own relationship with his father. 
“She wanted to repay them just so her mom would stop carrying that burden,” Mr. Ri says. “They were able to get away and build a new life where they were safe because of your parents and for ___, that always meant everything. She planned to work for them, but even a part of her felt that all the opportunities she was given was out of kindness. She always felt she didn’t deserve it but your parents also think they can’t ever make it up to her and her mother enough.”
At the silence, he continues. “People are complicated that way, I guess. We all have our own burdens to carry, our own past to deal with, our own actions to make peace with and accept. We make decisions based on what we think is best and just hope we don’t regret them in the future. But we also make them as a way to take control of our own lives. Even if I regret letting Hye-soo go, I at least did it knowing that I’ll either have another chance at being with her, or that someone else will. And someone did, and I know for a fact that he loves her and ___ with all of him.”
“In that sense, maybe resigning is ___’s way of taking control of her life this time, don’t you think?” Hoseok turns to Jungkook, understanding where you’re coming from now, as he knows the feeling of not having to constantly prove yourself to others. “She finally wants to let that burden go, to live as she wishes without feeling like she doesn’t deserve what she has, even if it means not being next to you the way she wants to. If you make her stay, how do you think she can move on from all this? How can you be sure she’s happy?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath, knowing it’s not enough to process everything he’s learned this morning. There’s that past he didn’t know he shared with you, there’s his relationship with his father that he doesn’t know how to mend, there’s his feelings for you, one that’s still so strong and inescapable. 
And then there’s the thought that you’d known everything all along. You’ve been patient with him, you've been kind and understanding. Was that all because you felt like you had to? Because he’s the son of the people you feel that you owe a lot to?
It’s not that Jungkook doubts your feelings for him, but he wonders if you do. Now that you’re able to make that decision to leave, what if walking away from his family also means you realize that your feelings are tied to that indebtedness, too? How real was it for you? And after you find yourself outside of all this, would you still want him?
The thoughts make his heart break, and this tells him that after knowing everything, he still can’t deny what he feels about you. He still wants you just as much. Maybe the familiarity he always felt was because you are familiar. Maybe the connection was because of a painful past you both share, of a kind of pain you both understand. Maybe the intensity of feelings is a remnant from his childhood, one that’s tied to yours in a serendipitous way. 
He’d like to think that even without knowing, you held out for him. You could’ve chosen to leave anytime before he came but you didn’t, and your paths crossed this way and he convinces himself that you were always meant to meet each other, that you were always meant to make up for how intertwined and unfortunate your lives are. You never met then but this time, when you did, it meant so much more. He could only hope that it’s something you hold onto as well, and that when you decide to finally walk away, it doesn’t mean you walk away from him completely, too. 
“Kook, I know there’s a lot to think about but you have to get going,” Hoseok disrupts his thoughts. “Your father still wants us at that lunch. I know grandfather would, too.”
“You should go ahead, Hoseok,” Mr. Ri says. “Just make an excuse to your uncle and say I’m helping Jungkook fix up. We’ll head there right away.”
“No, tell him that I know,” Jungkook insists. “If… if he’s always wanted to mend our relationship, he and I have to start being honest with each other.”
“I will,” Hoseok says as he stands up to leave. “Get your head together, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”
Jungkook massages his temples, knowing that he doesn’t have time to get a workout in and rid himself of this terrible hangover. But he tries, as he takes a warm shower and asks Mr. Ri to prepare him a cup of lemon ginger tea and get some ginseng jelly for the ride. 
The trip to his parents’ estate starts off quiet, but the thoughts in his head are so loud that the older man asks what else is bothering him. 
“How was her time in Busan?” Jungkook asks.
“It was good. She was a shy kid but she found good people she trusted and that meant everything,” Mr. Ri answers. “I visited them often, even when they returned to Daegu. But I stopped once ___ moved back to Seoul after college. I’d ask her about her mother every now and then. It was nice to hear how well they’re doing, and how happy they are with their new family. Min-woo’s a good man and his daughters love Hye-soo and ___ so much. It turned out well for them. When I think about that, it’s really hard not to justify the decisions I made.”
“Will you make them again? If given the chance?”
“If I still think it’s what’s best then, then I would. Sometimes we make decisions because of the other person, not exactly for ourselves. Sometimes that’s how we realize just how much we love them, you know? When their happiness trumps our own.”
Jungkook merely hums. While he doesn’t think he’s at that point with you, he cares enough to want you to have that chance to find your happiness, in whatever form that may be. And if leaving the company is what it takes, then he knows you deserve that and more. It doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you can search for it while being with him, but perhaps it’s better if you find your way back to him instead. He’ll at least know you chose him, and not because you felt like you owed it to him to stay.
They make it to his parents’ estate over an hour late. The guests have arrived and Jungkook greets them before finding his father. When their eyes meet, there’s a look of sadness in the elder man’s eyes. Perhaps it’s understanding; maybe it’s an apology.
His mother gives him a long and tight hug, one that he savors for the first time in a long while. He remained distant from his parents after he decided to pursue further studies and then work in their office abroad. It’s a relationship he’s still navigating. While his mother has always been present and affectionate, Jungkook is the one who stopped reciprocating. It just seemed easier that way, but he realizes that he’s missed her warmth after taking it for granted all these years. 
The lunch gathering lasts for a few hours. Jungkook tries to pay attention to the conversations since engaging requires too much from him, especially after the morning he’s had. But his father doesn’t reprimand him this time, and for that, he’s thankful. Hoseok keeps him on his toes though, but Jungkook’s mind constantly wanders towards you. He wonders how you got home last night, if you managed to get some rest, and if you’re spending your time being angry at him or if, by any chance, you’re missing him like he’s missing you.
It’s 5 PM by the time the last guest leaves, and with Hoseok and A-yeong needing to attend a dinner party, Jungkook is left to speak with his parents alone. 
“I heard you know the truth now,” his father says as he sits across from Jungkook in the garden. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”
“Did you intend for me not to know and find out from someone else?” Jungkook asks. 
“___ applied to the company with the intention of contributing in a small way,” his father says. “She made it without any say from me and that’s a testament to her skills and capabilities. When we met after her first day, she asked that she not be treated any differently, and I agreed. I stayed true to my word and I kept my distance, but when I heard about how Mrs. Byun treated her, I knew I couldn’t just stand back. I encouraged her to apply for the EA position, knowing that she would be treated well. And with that, she asked me not to say who she is - not to Hoseok, and especially not to you. That’s not how she wants to be known. And I always respected her request.”
“Does it make any difference, son?” His mother asks. “Does knowing who she is to our family change the way you see her?”
“No, but it makes me wonder how she’d seen me all this time,” Jungkook says. “She put up with me despite how I treated her. She was kind even if I was distant. She… she let me open myself up and that’s… that’s why I like her. That's why I asked her to be with me.”
The surprise on his parents’ faces is immediate, but they stay calm, and it’s what prompts him to continue.
“I just hate to think that she suffered all that time because she still felt like she owed us. If you asked her to stay and help me, she wouldn’t have been able to turn you down. And what if… she’s confused her feelings for me for just… gratitude towards you?”
“Oh, my dear son,” his mother sighs, taking his hand as a form of comfort. “We are so sorry that all this has caused you to doubt her sincerity but if there’s one thing we know about ___ is that she’s genuine, and if you felt cared for by her, then she meant all that.”
“Yes, I did ask her to help you, because I knew that if there was someone who could get through to you, it would be her,” his father says this time.
“So you took advantage of her? Because you knew she’d do what you’d ask,” Jungkook huffs.
“I did that because I knew that she would care, that she would understand. Thinking about it now, perhaps I asked for too much,” the elder man shakes his head. “She’s a lot like her mother, and I’ve come to realize that you’re a lot like me. I needed someone like Hye-soo and somehow I just knew that you needed someone like ___. Both of you opening up and finding comfort in each other just happened, I suppose, and that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”
“I don’t know. Because now, she doubts what I feel and I’m not sure about what she feels, too,” Jungkook admits, letting his own insecurities get the better of him. He hates that he’s started to doubt you as well. 
“If it matters, I’ve seen how she is with you. She cares about you, she worries about you. And the way you respond to her just means that your heart feels her sincerity, too,” his father responds. “Don’t let anger or fear taint that for you.”
“Aren’t you mad about what happened?” Jungkook wonders. “She’s my assistant and I ended up crossing a line. I kissed her. In my office.”
“Perhaps I should be,” his father hums. “But with her planning on resigning, I suppose you’re already feeling a lot of emotions about that. I don’t want to add anymore. You’re an adult and you know that your actions have consequences. You just have to deal with them now. And don’t ever do that again.”
There’s no anger in his father’s words. In fact, there’s comfort that Jungkook has never heard before. It suspends his worries only for a short moment, as he’s reminded that you indeed plan on leaving. When that is, he doesn’t know. But he’s gonna have to start dealing with your loss just as he needs to deal with his feelings for you. It’s all too complicated; getting together despite what you both feel isn’t that simple. Your happiness comes first. He knows he cares so much that it’s what he wants you to focus on. 
“Letting her go now doesn’t mean you have to let her go for good,” his mother tells him. “She’ll choose you if that’s what her heart says. And at least then, you’ll know for sure that she still wants you after everything.”
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Jungkook’s parents’ words echo in his mind for the rest of Saturday that he spends in his living room, choosing wine as his companion for the evening. There’s no intention of getting hammered unlike the night before though. The drink calms him down and allows him to have proper sleep this time. He spends the most of his Sunday in bed, thinking about you, then attempting to remove you from his mind. 
Not wanting to deal with any more tension, he instructs Mr. Ri that Monday to just drive you straight to the office. Jungkook arrives and sees you stand up to greet him as he walks through the hallway, and he responds with a nod as his own greeting before heading straight to his room.
There’s that feeling again - of missing you, of hoping he could fix things but not knowing how, of wanting to ask you to stay but knowing he has to let you go, and of wishing that when he does, you’ll find your way back to him again. He shakes off the thoughts during that short walk to his desk, feeling himself weaken with every moment that he spends far away from you.
Jungkook takes his seat and sighs as another day starts without his usual routine. Knowing he has no other choice, he pushes on. From his periphery, he sees you glancing at him through the window, and a part of him wishes it’s your attempt at seeing if you could speak with him, maybe ask if you could talk about what happened later on or about what he now knows about you. Or anything, really. He just wants to hear your voice again. Hopefully see your smile. Despite all his doubts about you, the emptiness he feels tells him that nothing’s changed - what he feels for you is real, and he might not know what’ll happen next, but he at least knows that what he wants is to be with you; he hopes he’ll figure out how to do that with you.
He sees you glance at him again and it sparks a bit of hope. That is, until he spots the envelope on his desk, and inside it, your resignation letter.
He tries to act unaffected as he reads what you’ve written. It’s straight to the point, as you narrate your journey in the company, having started as an intern and then working in logistics before finding your footing as the Vice President’s assistant. You list the skills you’ve developed and other things you’ve learned but that you think it’s time to venture into something new and different, noting how you’ll take all your experiences with you in this new stage of your life. 
You thank him for his guidance, and he almost breaks towards the end when you mention the Arts Center. You apologize for leaving before its completion, but you’re thankful because it allowed you to appreciate the beauty of things, that it made you understand the value of meaning and connection, and that his passion for it pushed you to find something that you want to be passionate about, too. You’ve given him something, and now he knows that in his own way, he’s given something to you, too. 
You type away on your desktop while not-so-discreetly peeking into Jungkook’s office to see his reaction to your letter. Your plan was to resign after the Arts Center was launched, knowing how big of a project it is that needs all of Jungkook’s attention. He can’t be distracted, and a part of you scolds yourself for being selfish about deciding to do this now. 
But you also knew that you couldn’t delay it any longer. After what happened last Friday, you didn’t know how you could face him again, especially now that he knows everything. It didn’t feel right to continue on, not just because of your feelings but because you crossed a line - you kissed and did all that in his office. That itself is unacceptable; it almost feels like a betrayal to his family, whom you’ll have to painfully say goodbye to as well. 
Mr. Ri visited you yesterday to give you comfort, knowing that you’d choose to go through this on your own again. Jungkook was devastated but was worried about you more than anything, you were told, and somehow that made the decision less difficult but still painful to make. You don’t know if he’ll ever truly understand, especially if finding yourself means letting him go despite the happiness he gives you. 
It’s not everyday you find someone you feel so much for, but then again, human beings are complicated - they can want something and be scared of it at the same time; they can have the chance to have it but doubt it all the same. What you feel for him should be enough to dispel your worries about his sincerity but there’s too much going on in your mind at this point. Right now, you just want to get away. With him learning the truth, you suppose he needs time to process all that as well. 
You’ll miss him though. You’ll miss everything about this place. But you’ll miss him the most. 
Your phone ringing disrupts your thoughts, and your heart races when you hear Jungkook’s voice on the other end.
“Ms. Cho, please come to my office.”
You calm your nerves and find the strength to get off your seat and walk towards him. He’d been expressionless the whole time, and you wonder if he’ll hold off your resignation because it’s terrible timing. Either way, you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come. 
But clearly, you didn’t do so enough, as you’re still left speechless when he holds out an envelope for you to take, the sight of his hands that once held you close breaking your heart again.
“I accept your resignation,” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “You have a month until your last day but you have two weeks worth of vacation and I urge you to take them before you leave.”
“Thank you, sir,” you manage to say, your voice soft and shaking compared to his. “I… I will.”
“And this is your recommendation letter,” he says, handing you another envelope. “You’ve shown exceptional skills throughout your tenure here, Ms. Cho. Everyone you’ve worked with says so, and I’ve seen that firsthand. I’m sure that wherever you decide to work after this, you’ll be another great asset. And my family wishes you good luck in your future endeavors. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”
The words are too formal, too professional for your liking, and this breaks your heart even more. But you suppose there’s no other way to do it. You’re the one leaving; you’re the one who pulled away. After everything that’s happened, you’re the one who walked out to find your happiness when Jungkook needed you the most, and you could only hope that one day, he’ll forgive you for it. That he’ll forgive you for all of it.
“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in thanks. “I’ve said it all in my letter but once again, I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”
You bravely look him in the eyes as he seems to have found the courage to look at you, and the longer you do, the harder it all becomes. 
“Shall I commence the process of finding my replacement, sir?” You ask.
“There is no need,” he replies. “I’ve received approval from my father to have Lucas come in as my assistant effective immediately. He’s scheduled to arrive this week, so you can spend the remaining time you have here turning over everything to him. I will announce your resignation to the team before then. You can also begin the offboarding process with HR so that there are no delays.”
“Understood, Mr. Jeon,” you say, the light in your eyes dimming as each second passes by.
“Is there anything else I could do to help you, Ms. Cho?” 
There’s a prolonged moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, his eyes tinged with a kind of sadness that you perhaps mirror, with words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.
You wish he’d say that he’s okay, that he forgives you, and that he hopes it didn’t have to be this way. 
He wishes you’d say that you’re sorry for leaving him, that you’ll be thinking about him, and that you hope you’ll find your way back to him again.
You want to tell him that he’s all you could think about, that you’ll miss him everyday, that you’ll search for  beautiful things that are tangible like you said you would, and hope they would lead you back to him. 
He wants to say that he’ll look for you everywhere, that he’ll hold onto every good memory you have together, that he hopes you find whatever makes you happy, and that he’ll wait for you until you realize that it could be him.
But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and head out the door.
You take your seat and will yourself not to cry. You can’t help it though, even as you press your palms against your ears to drown out the sounds of your own sadness, of your heart’s call of his name even if you’re the one walking away. 
You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place. 
Maybe you weren’t meant to have him at all. 
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rinniessance · 6 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who arrives at the sanctuary where you volunteer in the dead of winter. He's brought in by a group of hunters who found him in a decade-old bear trap on the verge of freezing to death. He's aggressive at first, still rattled from such a close call, but comes around quickly after a warm bath, a visit with your on-call vet, and of course, something to fill his stomach.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who can't be released back into the wild while he's still in recovery or left alone overnight, not when he's so eager to play fight with the other hybrids. He gets along well enough with all the volunteers, but he's constantly trying to get your attention, either sulking as you tend to another hybrid or drinking in your generously-given affection. You're clearly his favorite, so you're the one to take him home. He's ecstatic about the change in scenery, to say the least.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who takes to being a housepet like a fish takes to water. You try to make up for the lack of stimulation with a never-ending supply of thrifted toys and as many walks as his injured leg will allow, but he prefers to spend most of his time curled up at your feet or trailing after you, ginger ears perked-up and blur eyes wide and bright. He's surprisingly good at household chores for a wild animal. By the end of the first week, he's cooking and cleaning on his own, and when you insist that he's your guest, that you don't want him to get too domesticated, he just laughs and tells you that he likes it, that he's used to hunting for his siblings. Since you won't let him bring the birds and rabbits he catches past the front door, this is how he's decided to provide for you.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who destroys your apartment the first time you leave him alone for more than an hour. It makes sense, even if you can't say you've ever seen another hybrid react so violently to being separated from their handler. Foxes are social animals, and he hasn't been on his own since he was brought to your sanctuary, since the day he stumbled into a trap he couldn't understand or struggle his way out of. Still, when you come home to find all his toys gutted and all of your furniture overturned, you can't say you're thrilled. Childe spends the rest of the day buried in your sheets, pouting until you finally give in and forgive him. Childe goes wherever you go, after that.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who suddenly seems a lot less friendly than he did, when you first took him in. You try to write it off as him being overly protective of his temporary skulk, but it's a little hard to tell that to your male friends when he bares his teeth and snaps at their hands. In public, he refuses to leave your side, his tail constantly thrashing and his ears pressed flush to his scalp. He'll still smile, laugh, promise he doesn't get jealous that easily, but it's difficult to take his word for it when he holds your hand so tightly.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who's been scenting you in your sleep for weeks, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and gripping at any flesh he can reach and humping your thighs until he inevitably climaxes and has to clean his cum off of your skin with his tongue. He makes a point of 'accidentally' staining anything he doesn't want you wearing in front of anyone but him, letting you think he's too vulnerable to his animalistic urges to not mark your favorite top with his cum, that his separation anxiety is just too severe for you to shower without him, let alone close the door when you change.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, whose leg has been fine for months. You're too much of a bleeding heart not to buy it when he puts on a half-hearted limp, and while he hates having to lie to his future mate, he hates being away from you more. It's not a permanent arrangement, either - he'll be able to tell you the truth when you're fully bonded, when you're heavy with his pups and coming undone on his knot every night, every minute he can get with you.
Fox Hybrid!Childe, who's not going to let anyone take him away from his precious mate now <3
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