Vandahama

Plssss y/n and harry are at a party that is full of celebrities including The Weeknd (God I love him) and Harry finds out he has dated y/n. (y/n not famous, she is a normal person) lmao I need to see Harry all jealous

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

With a laugh, you slide from the barstool as he approaches, arms finding their way around his neck as he pulls you in for a long overdue hug.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he murmurs, squeezing at your hips once before letting go.

You brush the hair from your face as you lean back, fighting a rather large smile. “Harry invited me,” you tell him, nodding your chin toward the sulking man on the stool behind you. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here?”

Abel laughs, arms crossing in front of his chest. “I didn’t either, but something told me to come out tonight and I guess…now I know why.”

“Please,” you snort, clocking the suggestive look in his eye, but blushing, nonetheless. He always knew the way to your heart was flattery, and you can’t deny that you’re pleased to see your old friend. “How’ve you been?”

He launches into an explanation of his wild week, and you nod appreciatively, listening to each detail as he recalls it. 

You’re excited to see him, having not really heard from him for a few months, although you suppose you understand why. 

But no matter the reason for the disappearance, you give him your undivided attention, happy for the brief connection.

It’s not until Abel begins describing the hassle going on with his label that you feel a familiar arm snake its way around your hip. 

With a subtle tug, you find yourself now sitting firmly on a lap. Harry’s lap, to be specific. And you know him well enough to know the pressure of his fingertips along your hip is indicative of his annoyance.

You smirk, letting your hand rest over top his as Abel continues speaking, oblivious to the subliminal argument you and Harry are currently having.

His knee begins to jostle beneath you, anxious and irritated. You liken it to that of him tapping his wrist impatiently as if telling Abel to hurry the fuck up already.

In return, you squeeze his palm between your fingers. Once. Twice. Calm. Down.

The arm around your waist tightens. Until your back is softly jerked against his chest. No.

You wonder the reason for this behavior. Sure, his jealousy makes an appearance once in a while, but not usually around his own friends. Not in a place like this. And not around someone as sweet as Abel, who is so far back in your past, you can hardly remember it.

Harry’s chin finds your shoulder. Rests there. Jaw clenched. Fingers now tapping your hip. Hurry.

You nestle back into his embrace, relaxing against his large frame as you exhale softly. Easy.

“—so, I wasn’t really sure what to do, you know?” Abel shrugs, glancing toward the rest of the room before looking back. “But what about you, huh? Wasn’t sure I’d see you around for a while.”

Harry’s grip tightens.

“Oh, no, this isn’t really my scene,” you agree quickly, laughing a bit as you straighten up, attempting to loosen the hold on your hip. “But with Harry’s tour starting soon, figured I’d swing by before he heads off.”

“That’s right. That’s so cool, man. Heard it’s is gonna be huge,” Abel replies, eyes flicking to Harry as he offers a supportive grin. “Yeah, hoping to swing by the L.A. show sometime.”

Appreciative of the kind gesture, you offer Abel a thankful smile before glancing over your shoulder toward the still very sullen man keeping you planted to your spot.

You had expected him to at least pretend to look happy. Offer a grin of his own or even return the compliment. Pleasantries having always been his speciality.

But tonight, for some odd reason, he only frowns. “Yeah, thanks…man. Listen—” Suddenly, he’s standing, forcing you from his lap as your feet hit the floor and his fingers weave around your upper arm. “—we gotta head out. Thanks for dropping by, though.”

And with that, you’re gingerly yet forcibly slung toward the direction of the exit.

“Wait, Har—Harry,” you hiss, twisting back around to call a quick, “Sorry! It was so good to see you. Let me know how it goes, yeah?”

“Will do,” Abel laughs, tossing a hand up in greeting before returning to his friends and you return to the 6-foot man-child dragging you out of the party.

“Harry,” you warn as his palm outstretches to shove the double doors open and pull you into the dark night. “Harry, my arm—”

He lets go within an instant once you’re safe and sound on the sidewalk, and you stumble toward a steady footing.

His eyes, narrowed and dark with livid displeasure, find you. He stands tall. Still. Offering no explanation for his behavior as you’re left to brush your hands down your dress.

“The hell was that?” you huff, straightening up as you study him. “Since when do you manhandle me—”

“What the fuck was with you?” he retorts, hands finding his pockets as he jerks his head toward the building before raising his voice in mimic. “‘Oh, Abel, I missed you so much, it’s been so good to see you, let’s so do this again.’”

Your glare begins to mirror his, hands finding your hips as you scoff, “That’s not how that happened and why do you even care?”

“I fucking care because…” He hesitates, making a noise himself as he looks out into the street, mulling over his response. “Because it was fucking weird.”

You lean back. “What? What was weird? We were talking—”

“Yeah, why?” 

Your brows pull together, eyes falling over his hardened expression. “What do you mean why? Cause we’re friends.”

“Yeah? Is that all?”

The lilt in his voice is venomous and you can feel your muscles recoil as you hesitate. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs as if suggesting you figure it out yourself, and you’re positive you don’t like the implication.

You take a cautious step toward him, pointer finger raising in the air as you murmur, “You better watch your fucking tone, Styles. Whatever it is you’re trying to say? Don’t.”

His head cocks to the side. “What? You don’t want me to say that I think you used to fuck him?”

There it is.

You can feel the swell of livid outrage form deep in your chest as you move back. “That’s what this is about.” Not a question. A statement. A glaringly obvious acceptance. “You’re jealous he and I used to see each other.”

His glare deepens at the carefully worded phrase. “I’m not jealous—”

“Ha.” Your laugh is bitter. You look away, head shaking with disbelief. “No, that’s good. That was a good one. Because if you weren’t jealous, then why the fuck are we out here instead of in there?"

Harry straightens up. Grits his teeth. Doesn’t respond.

So, you respond for him. “Because he’s in there…right?”

More silence. More confirmation of the truth you’d almost be flattered by if he hadn’t made such a scene. 

You have two options, you realize now. 

Continue standing in the middle of the street screaming at each other as the people around you awkwardly watch. 

Or talk him down.

Even though, truthfully, you’re not sure why you have to talk him down when he’s the one acting like a child.

But it’s then that you’re reminded of the times Taylor has been in the room. Or Camille. Or Kendall. The times when you’ve never felt more out of place in this world of his. Standing beside him as he catches up with an old lover.

And despite reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter who was in his past as long as you’re in his future, it doesn’t diminish that devil on your shoulder reminding you how different you are from his very specific type.

No matter your confidence in your relationship, it doesn’t erase the small trickle of doubt that works its way in when you see them together.

And the only thing that truly brings you back to reality is the tender tone of his voice as he reminds you that you’re the only one he sees in a room full of people. 

It’s a kindness that makes a world of difference. 

A kindness you see he needs now.

Slowly, your resolve fades, anger dissipating with each second that passes.

You step closer to him, small hands smoothing up his chest until you can cup his cheeks. He tenses, curious of your intentions as you begin to stroke the soft skin beneath your fingertips. Calming him. 

“Abel and I met a long time ago,” you tell him softly, noticing the flex in his fingers at the admission. Still, you carry on. “We dated—briefly—and it ended on bad terms. We weren’t really a good fit as partners. But, later, we became friends. And he’s the one who told me about the party where you and I met.”

Harry’s brow cocks upward. Yet, he doesn’t speak. He waits.

“I see him maybe once a year if that. And always in a crowded, social setting. He will always be a good memory in my past. But you…you, Har, are my future.”

Now you begin to see the understanding. The relaxation in his muscles. In his expression. In the way his hands find your hips to pull you a bit closer. Have you near.

“And in a room full of Abel’s…I only see you,” you can’t help but add a bit cheekily, and you’re rewarded with his smirk.

“Wow,” he mumbles, head shaking softly. “No, that was bad. Is that how dumb I sound when I say it?”

“Hey.” Your hand slaps at his chest. “It was cute.”

“Yeah. Sure. All right, angel, whatever you say.”

You pull your lip between your teeth, fighting a smug grin. “It was kind of cute the way you got so mad.”

Now, the glare returns, and he rolls his eyes while attempting to let go.

But you hold steady, pulling at his jaw as you laugh, “No, really. Got all grumpy and mad. Everybody wants to steal my girl, yeah? Is that—I mean, was that what was going through your—hey, where are you going?”

But he’s already striding down the sidewalk, leaving you behind as you chuckle adoringly. For a moment, he doesn’t reply. Simply walks down the street as you’re left to wonder.

Then, he turns. Smirking yet again as he calls, “I’m taking you home. So I can show you exactly what happens when someone tries to steal my girl.”

Your face flushes, thighs already attempting to clench together as you swallow apprehensively.

Then…

You follow.

Full Masterlist

Drive to Survive • 1

pairing: f1 racer!Jungkook x f. race engineer!reader rating: +18, MDNI genre: Colleagues 2 Lovers, romcom, angst, fluff, smut warnings: mature themes and explicit content wc: ~3.5K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. 💕

masterlist • 2

Standing alone at the deserted pit stop of the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team, two days before the start of training for the eighteenth race out of twenty-four this weekend at the Hockenheimring in Germany, you can't help but exhale deeply. This moment finally marks the culmination of your ambitions, a goal you've pursued tirelessly since childhood.

Growing up in a motorsport family, you were immersed in the world of high-stakes automotive and racing enterprises equally surrounded by their high-ups thanks to your father. You admired everything about cars, particularly Formula 1. Every training session, qualifying round, and race became your passion and study material. Often, you found yourself in VIP lounges, observing the action alongside your father.

Your teenage years were a series of hard work and academic excellence, especially in STEM subjects like Mathematics, Physics, and Computer Science. These achievements earned you prestigious positions in robotics and engineering clubs. While others spent their free time socialising and partying like every normal and healthy teenager would, you dedicated yours to assisting smaller racing clubs with car setups, data analysis, and strategy planning.

In your late teenage years, you had the opportunity to accompany your father to a race once more, this time with the goal of making your own connections. You were on the brink of completing your bachelor’s degree as one of the youngest graduates in the world, with additional majors in automotive and aeronautical engineering. This combination was designed to secure your future and fulfil your aspiration of becoming a race engineer. Despite facing constant belittlement and pushback for being a woman, a very feminine woman at that, and having few friends besides a handful of aspiring F1 drivers and some girlfriends of family friends, your social skills remained intact, thanks largely to your mother’s unwavering support and guidance. 

Her words were engraved into every cell of your being: „It’s okay to have your own passion.“ she said one day after you were again bullied at school for being the only girl at the robotics club, „There’s nothing inherently feminine or masculine about it. Wanting something in a male-dominated field doesn’t mean you have to shut off your feminine side or stop embracing who you are. It’s all part of you, so be proud of it. So am I.“

Meeting Toto Wolff, the team principal of Mercedes, and Mattia Binotto, team principal of Ferrari, was a dream come true. Their genuine interest in your future within their teams was a validation of your hard work. That day also marked your first encounter with Jeon Jungkook, a prodigious new talent under the Mercedes team and son of a former, now retired F1 driver. After enduring his lingering gaze for several uncomfortable seconds, the lame flirting that followed made you turn away silently in mild disgust. You had no desire to entertain such behaviour, something you had grown accustomed to dismissing as one of the few, and even fewer attractive, women in the field.

Years flew by as you completed both your bachelor's and master's degrees with flying colours, nothing able to slow you down. Your relentless pursuit of your dream resulted in an offer from the Haas team for a race engineer position for the upcoming season. Although not your first choice due to reservations about their team principal, you saw it as a stepping stone in your career.

A week ago, you received a call from an unknown number late at night. You frowned, debating whether to send it straight to voicemail, as you were never a fan of calls, especially from someone not in your contact list. But something, a deep feeling in your gut, made you pick it up at the last second. Your heart rate spiked and stopped several times during the call when Toto himself offered you the position of race engineer for their first driver starting next week even though the season was in full swing. You tried hard to keep your tears of happiness from being heard through the receiver as you accepted and thanked him. The next day, you signed the contract sent via email, and after consulting with your father and lawyers, you sent it back. Then, you called to decline Haas' offer, which had yet to be formalised with a contract or any other written confirmation.

Now, here you stand at the starting line of a new chapter in your life, ready to embrace the challenges and triumphs that await. As a reminder pings on your phone, alerting you that it’s time to head to the Mercedes-Benz headquarters in Stuttgart for your first in-person briefing and introduction to the team and driver, you leave the premises of the ring with a smile on your face that illuminates the way to your car. A gentle breeze captures your hair, and the sunny day is filled with the sound of birds chirping, a symphony soon to be drowned out by the roar of engines.

As you arrive at the headquarters of Mercedes-Benz, you're granted access to the premises with an access card that was sent to you by post some days prior. Your smiling face greets you from the picture on the card as you hang it around your neck. You drive towards the imposing glass building, its sheer size both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Turning into the designated section of the underground garage, you park your car and make your way to the escalators. The ascent is smooth and swift, leading you up to the floor where the meeting room awaits. 

You are dressed in a modest, yet professional dress that strikes the perfect balance between formality and approachability. From the outset, you made it clear that you would not conform to the typical attire of the men, dress shirts and pants. This choice has been met without objection, thanks to the variety of coats and accessories available from the merchandise shop for the team while on track. Your attire, though different, fits seamlessly into the polished, modern and dynamic environment of Mercedes.

As you make your way to the meeting room, you pass several acquaintances of your father, exchanging quick greetings in the process. The walls are adorned with intricate technical drawings and striking photographs of every car model the company has produced, each piece telling a story of innovation and their commitment to excellence.

In various corners, you notice miniature sculptures, meticulously crafted to capture the essence of the brand, alongside occasional pieces of abstract artwork that add a touch of artistic flair to the high-tech environment. These thoughtful touches elevate the space, creating a perfect mixture of functionality and aesthetics. The glass front of the building provides a breathtaking view of the training grounds of the local football club, a team that competes in the national first league. You take a moment to appreciate the seamless integration of sports and engineering excellence, both striving for peak performance like you do too.

Turning the last corner, the meeting room comes into your view where you immediately spot Toto, the technical director, George Russell's race engineer, George Russell himself, and Jeon Jungkook waiting for you. Walking confidently towards them, Jungkook is the first to notice you, his expression shifting from surprise to confusion, then realisation, and finally settling on repulsion within seconds. Internally, you sigh; professionalism, it seems, might be a stretch for him today.

You softly knock on the open door with a friendly smile, making eye contact with everyone as you greet them. Toto is the first to stand and quickly walks over to you, prompting everyone else to rise except for Jungkook, who only stands after George nudges him and whispers, "Don't be a dick."

You shake hands with Toto, a moment you had long dreamed of in this setting. "Good morning, __. Thank you for being here."

As Toto turns around and introductions follow, the room reveals a spectrum of reception, from warmth to evident boredom, particularly noticeable in Jungkook's demeanour.

„Please have a seat.“ Toto motions to the empty chair beside him and George's race engineer. To your right, at the head of the table, are Toto and the technical director, with Jungkook directly in front of you and George beside him.

Undeterred by Jungkook's thinly veiled hostility, which is a familiar challenge throughout your career, you settle in, extracting your tablet from your purse as Toto initiates the proceedings.

„Today, we’re introducing our new race engineer for Jungkook, ___. ___, welcome to the team.“ 

„Thank you, it’s great to be here.“

The encouraging voice of the technical director catches your attention. „We’re glad to have you onboard. You’ll be working closely with Jungkook, and I know you bring a wealth of knowledge that’ll compensate for your lack of experience.“

„Yeah, welcome to the team. And if you need any help settling in or understanding our processes, feel free to ask.“ George's race engineer smiles kindly your way, toying with his pencil.

„Thank you, I appreciate that.“

Toto continues, ignoring Jungkook’s scoff beside him. „As you know, our team philosophy revolves around meticulous preparation and strategic execution. Let’s discuss what you’ve been focusing on since joining us a week ago and how we’ll integrate your approach into our existing strategies.“

Now it's your time to shine. Every previous conversation in this field has been off-track and informal. Now is your chance to prove you are worth their trust and the right choice for the job. „Certainly. I’ve been reviewing the recent race data and simulations, especially focusing on Jungkook’s driving style and preferences. I’ve also been familiarising myself with our car’s setup and the team’s historical performance at this circuit.“ 

As you mention Jungkook's name, you glance briefly at him. He stares back at you without blinking or moving, his reaction unclear, whether positive or negative that you mentioned his name. 

„Good to hear. Jungkook has specific preferences regarding car balance and feedback. Have you had a chance to discuss these details with them?“ The technical director asks further.

„Not yet, but I’ve prepared a setup proposal based on our simulations and historical data. I plan to discuss it with Jungkook later today, if he’s free.“

Jungkook's eye twitches at that, his face showing clear signs of displeasure. Nonetheless, he nods his head once.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, George interjects casually with a warm laugh to ease the tension, „Jungkook prefers a more stable rear end through the high-speed corners, just a heads-up. He’s very particular about it.“

„Understood. I’ll make sure to incorporate that into our setup options.“ you note it down immediately.

„Our drivers rely heavily on trust and communication with their engineers. Building that rapport is crucial for success on the track. How do you plan to approach this relationship?“ Toto challenges you, making it clear everyone in the room senses Jungkook's hostility.

You are certain that the job requirements themselves will not be the most challenging aspect; rather, it will be establishing a stable relationship with Jungkook. His approval and cooperation will ultimately determine whether you can secure your position and succeed in this role or face immediate dismissal.

You met Jungkook's gaze directly, intent on conveying your sincerity. “I believe in open communication and transparency. I aim to build a strong working relationship with Jungkook based on mutual trust and respect. I’ll be proactive in seeking his feedback and ensuring he feels fully supported.”

Your words seem to have struck a nerve, evidenced by Jungkook's growing irritation. There’s a short silence until George discreetly kicks Jungkook under the table. Jungkook coughs, masking a wince from the kick, and replies with a forced smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “I appreciate that approach. Communication is key during the race weekend, especially with strategy adjustments and car performance updates.”

You are slightly startled by the technical director's clap. “Perfect. Let’s ensure our focus remains on optimising our performance for the upcoming race. ___, if you need any additional resources or support, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’re all here to ensure both drivers have the best possible setup and strategy.”

“Thank you. I’m excited to contribute to our team’s success.”

“Excellent. Let’s continue our preparations. We have a packed schedule ahead of us. ___, welcome once again. Let’s make this a successful weekend.” Toto's words do little to soothe the burn of Jungkook's scrutinising stare.

After one and a half hours of intense briefing, Toto finally adjourns the meeting. The next session is set for Friday morning at the track, with every staff member involved in the training scheduled for that day.

As the room begins to empty, George turns to you with a warm smile. “Okay, let me properly welcome you to the team. I’m super excited to have you on board.”

“I’m very honoured, thank you, Mr. Russell.”

“Oh, please, call me George.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook rolling his eyes and throwing his head back while George approaches and embraces you in a short, welcoming hug.

“Oh wow, you’re taller than I thought,” you say to George after pulling away, Jungkook faking gag sounds. 

“And you’re so tiny.” George ruffles your hair which earns him a playful glare. “Anyways, I’ll leave you both to it. See you tomorrow.” He winks and heads out. After a moment, his head pops back in. “You,” he points to Jungkook, “behave.” And with that, he's gone.

A silence stretches between you and Jungkook, both of you locking gazes in a challenge you didn’t realise was happening until you blink and Jungkook bursts out, “Ha! You lost.”

You blink again, slower this time, perplexed by the absurdity of it all. “Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business, shall we? So, the Hockenheimring was dropped from the calendar for the last few years, so it’ll be not only new to me but also to…”

Jungkook interrupts, “Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You slowly turn your gaze from your tablet to him, blinking as you compose yourself. “We should obviously review the track. I’m sure you’re aware of its tight hairpins and long straights. Also, I’d like to know your preferred tires so the technical sectors don’t…”

Jungkook scoffs, clearly not having listened to a word you said. His arms are crossed, his look equal parts challenging and condescending. “It all makes sense now. You’ve been obsessed with me since the first time you saw me. Doing everything in your power to work with me. Even graduating ridiculously young and declining the offer from Haas.”

Your irritation reaches a boiling point. “I think it’s funny you’ve kept tabs on me for all those years.”

“No, I haven’t. It’s common knowledge. You’ve always wanted a piece of me. It’s flattering, really.”

“I can assure you, my interest has always been in the job, not in you. And it’s flattering to know that my vitae seems to be common knowledge to you.”

“Sure, of course. You don’t have to play coy. It’s perfectly natural to be drawn to someone as experienced as I am. But let’s keep things professional, aight?”

“Fine by me.” You smile at him, relieved that he seems to be cooperating. “So, yes. The tires you’d prefer to…”

Jungkook interrupts again, and you slump defeatedly into your seat, looking at the ceiling. “It’s just that your enthusiasm to work with me comes off as a bit… personal. But don’t worry, I can handle it.”

Having had enough of this kindergarten behaviour, you counter with a flat tone. “If anyone’s having trouble handling things, it seems to be you. Your comments suggest you’re projecting your own feelings onto me.”

“Projecting? That’s a bit of a reach. I’m just stating what I’ve observed.” Jungkook acts surprised, an exaggerated hand on his chest.

After spending the first hours with Jungkook in this room, you knew you’d have to set boundaries and make your intentions clear. It’s well known in the media that he’s a flirt, and sometimes his success goes to his head. But you’re trained and prepared for this kind of behaviour. It’s not your first nor will it be your last rodeo.

“What you’ve observed is likely coloured by your own assumptions. I’m here to work. If you feel uncomfortable with my presence, perhaps it’s your own obsession that’s the issue.”

Jungkook’s ears tint red. “My obsession? That’s absurd. I’m perfectly professional.”

And for good measure, you push further. “Yet you seem fixated on making this about something other than work. It’s almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself of something.” You can’t suppress the twitch of your lip.

“I… No, that’s not it at all. I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the red tint slowly spreading from his ears to his cheeks.

And because you’re a little bit petty because of his behaviour in the hours prior, you make him squirm a little bit more. “What you’ve noticed is a fabrication of your own making. Let’s stay focused on the race. If you can’t handle working with me professionally, that says more about you than it does about me.”

“I’m completely professional! It’s just… Look, let’s just get this done.” Jungkook is clearly embarrassed.

“Exactly. Let’s focus on the tires for now and leave personal assumptions out of it, hm?” The smile you send him is plastic.

The atmosphere in the room is thick with tension. Jungkook's eyes dart away, his earlier bravado crumbling. He clears his throat and finally sits straight up, pulling his own tablet in front of him.

"Fine, let's talk about the tires," he says, his tone grudgingly compliant.

You take a deep breath, trying to reignite the professional spirit that this meeting was supposed to uphold. "The Hockenheimring has a mix of high-speed straights and tight hairpins, so we'll need a tire that offers a balance between grip and durability. What’s your preference?"

Jungkook’s expression becomes more focused, the professionalism shown for the first time. Something you only heard about. “Mediums for the practice sessions, hards for the race. We can test softs during qualifying.”

You nod, noting down his preferences. “Good choice. The mediums should give us the flexibility we need for adjustments. Now, about the strategy for turn six. It's notorious for causing understeer. We need to adjust the front wing angle…”

As you delve into the technical details, you notice Jungkook finally paying attention. His eyes are on the data, and he’s engaging with the information. The earlier hostility seems to fade, replaced by a shared focus on the task at hand. 

“This setup should help mitigate the understeer,” you continue, showing him the adjustments on the screen. “It’ll also improve stability through the Parabolika.”

Jungkook nods, his demeanour much more serious now. “That makes sense. I’ve had issues with that turn in the simulation. If we can nail the setup, it’ll give us a significant advantage.”

“Exactly,” you say with a genuine smile in your face, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. “And for the long straights, we’ll need to optimise the downforce. It’s a tricky balance, but I believe we can find the sweet spot.”

The conversation flows more smoothly, the professional exchange slowly bridging the gap that had earlier felt insurmountable. By the time you wrap up the discussion, there’s a mutual respect in the air.

“Alright, I think we’re set for now,” you say, shutting off your tablet. A smile now permanently on your face, you notice Jungkook's motions falter a bit as he packs up, his gaze meeting yours. He seems taken aback by your joyful demeanour, having not noticed the shift in your expression since the conversation turned serious some time ago. “I’ll finalise these settings and we’ll review them again on Friday.”

Jungkook stands, looking somewhat still not fully convinced of you but also more cooperative. “Thanks for the detailed rundown. I appreciate it.”

Still, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping this marks the beginning of a more collaborative relationship. “No problem. Let’s make sure we’re both on the same page from here on out.”

He nods, and with a final, respectful glance, he leaves the room. You watch him go, feeling a mix of relief and cautious optimism. It’s been a challenging start, but you’re determined to make this partnership work.

As the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. The road ahead is long, but with focus and determination, you’re confident that you’ll both rise to the challenge.

masterlist • 2

All Rights Reserved © runariya 2025

There comes a day when you realise turning the page is the best feeling in the world, because you realise there’s so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on.

Zayn Malik (via thehopefulquotes)

subtle acts of love

giving them food without them asking for it

randomly bringing them flowers

holding a door open for them

pulling out their chair for them

guiding them with a gentle hand on the small of their back

making them lunch to take to work with them

fixing their clothes or hair

giving them a massage

talking casually about a shared future

showing them their appreciation for them

waiting at home to say hello when they come in

paying complete attention to them

giving them a casual, but thoughtful compliment

writing them a love letter and hiding it for them to find

showing them something that reminded them of their partner

humming a song to calm them down

giving them a quick kiss whenever they pass each other at home

casual grabbing their hand and swinging it back and forth

remembering something they told them

“Distance doesn’t separate people. Silence does.”

— Jeff Hood

“We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.”

— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

i dont "use" tumblr im just here

y'all i am sharing my The Summer I Turned Pretty spotify playlists i created over the years please be kind