#HE'S SO OLD TAG YOURSELF WHY IS HE DABBING?

[ramonathinks]

RAISE THE STAKES.

being a therapist was hard enough without the leader of an infamous group becoming your patient or to answer your questions, sylus has a few requests.

(18+, no minors! no blank accounts!) inappropriate relationships, patient!slyus, therapist!reader, munch slyus, oral and female masturbation, slight pussy inspection, dirty talk. exhibitionism, dry humping, word count: 3k... short and sweet

tagging: @xmiisuki @sunasbon @sugugasm <3

There was something clinical and plain about your office — though technically you were a type of doctor — the decor screamed hospital more than a comfortable place to tell your deepest darkest secrets. Faint pale blue walls with littered old stickers from the previous child therapist and even the stench of crayons … not to mention the floor tiles, squared with an iced blue paint that made the room both childish and clinical. Something fitting for a child hospital or even a former child psych ward.

That was the reason you decided for this particular appointment you’d switch rooms to somewhere more adult and that hopefully your boss would let you stay there. The pristine polished marble floors and white walls, two empty lush chairs and a small brown wooden table with magazines with two waters sitting on top. This was your dream room and one you felt you deserved. You were the most decorated person on your floor — top of your class in your undergrad and graduate class, internships at major places, yet you settled for here. Settled. It was smack dabbed in the middle of a city that needed you most. A dangerous city… but somewhere you felt like you could actually make a difference. 

Sitting in the chair towards the window you awaited for Sylus Qin – a name that sent more than enough shivers up your spine but who’s name spiked your curiosity, especially seeing it written for a first appointment directly with you. 

He walked in, his presence loud and alarming from the moment he stepped into the door, looking at you before he sat down in the seat closest to the door. You inhaled, the deep smell of metallic and what you must’ve guessed was gunpowder filled your nostrils. “You’re late,” You told him with a small smile. “And for your first appointment nevertheless.” Your tone is light and playful, you only hoped that he understood that. 

He arches a white brow and slouches back on the couch, it was obviously too small for his broad body and long legs but he still stretched them so they were nearing yours. “A meeting held me up.” He waited for some form of reaction before he looked away from you, probably now disappointed when your face remained blank.

You cleared your throat, “I’m quite sure that you didn’t come here on your own volition, so why are you here? I know that you of all people couldn’t have been forced.” You crossed your legs, watching his eyes glance at them.

“Two nuisances…” He grumbles, his face scrunched into a deadly scowl but his crimson eyes remain gentle as he looks at you. “It seems that I’ve been even more aggressive as of late.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he disagrees with the diagnosis. 

“Well… what made them come to that conclusion?” You watched him open his mouth to answer before he paused, thinking something. It takes a while before he speaks again and when he does he shocks you.

“What do I get if I answer any of your silly little questions…?” There’s a huskiness to his voice, a rough edge as he speaks. His eyes are trained on you, following you as your body sways a bit. 

You quirk a brow, “You want a reward for being…compliant?” You straighten your posture, looking at him with slightly wide eyes, it was the first time someone asked for something so ridiculous. “You tell me what you want—” You start before he interrupts you.

“Your panties.” Curt. Simple. Straightforward. You blinked, staring at this man and questioning how you managed to get yourself in this position. 

 Was the money worth it? That was the question roaming around your head as you just stared at him. How could he ask you such a thing with a serious face expression. “My panties? That would tempt you to answer the questions truthfully?” The skirt you were wearing felt a thousand times shorter and the room felt too warm for you to ignore the wetness you felt between your —

Your eyes twitched. A conversation alone, brief… and your panties were drenched, sticky to your folds. It would do wonders for your career to have gotten the man himself… the big leader of a malicious group to be less violence. So you sigh, “You want them now—”

“As an act of good faith,” He says smoothly. “Let’s put all our cards out on the table…How about you at least take them off so I know you’re being truthful to me.” 

You sucked your teeth, debating with yourself on if you really should do this or not. Your career is on the line regardless of each decision. You could just deny him, tell him off and force him out of your office. But your body seemed to be screaming at you to just do it. You hadn’t had sex nor a true orgasm in more than a year… possibly two and yet with him sitting in front of you, you felt as if you were close.

Your mouth no longer produces saliva and your throat dry as you slide them down your legs; you held them and watched a smirk take over his face. You couldn’t believe yourself honestly, this wasn’t something you’d ever expect yourself to do. While you weren’t exactly a good girl, you had standards… you couldn’t believe you were being so trashy. Yet the excitement in your body spilled out of your center and with his eyes glued there while you removed your underwear, your body shook.

“Already the air smells so better in here.” He chuckles and you feel embarrassment cloud your mind. “To answer your question from before… Apparently they believe I’m in a foul mood since I’ve been less tolerant on certain things that in the past, I was more passive on. They’ve expressed to me that with the rough ways I’ve been handling business has grown rather…impulsive.”

“Do you agree with that?” You recross your legs. “I’ve always heard that you were impulsive and honestly, I never heard anyone say you were passive… Do you think you’ve ever been passive? Do you think you can paint me a picture of yourself?”

He reaches out his hand and for a moment you’re confused before you realize he’s asking for his reward. Handing him the panties, you see him sniff them and it makes your insides quiver. This man… he was too much for you. 

“I see myself as…” He thinks, his eyebrows furrowed, he taps his foot on the ground. “I often find myself bored and find myself indulging in self destructive behavior... taking on more than I can and getting myself injured.” He scoffs. “I guess this particular time they're talking about is when I knew I was being set up but still decided to go alone without informing them - Luke and Kieran, I mean.”

“So they care about you?” You ask, mentally taking notes of every word and ever ounce of movement and even taking account of his voice and tone.

“Sure.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “We’ve been together for longer than I can remember being without them…” Then he’s closed off again, acting as if he revealed too much to you. His crimson eyes trace up your legs again, he bites his lips.

You recrossed your legs. “Anyway…” You cough. “Is there a thrill in putting yourself in these situations? Or is there a need to demonstrate that your reputation is correct… to stop or limit people from defying you?” You are met with silence and a sinister glint in Sylus’ eyes. “Sylus? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“I answered some for your panties. For this next question, you’ll have to do something else for me to answer it… unless you want a lie…or more silence.” His roaming eyes told you all that you needed to know, this request would be more.

A scowl on your face, “My panties weren’t enough?” You’re close to rolling your eyes at him, you want to hate him but it’s something in those eyes that keeps you from it. After this you knew that you’d decline any other visits from him, you might as well entertain him— no, you want to slap yourself for even thinking that thought. 

“I wanna see you cum, pet that pretty pussy and put a show on for me.” He says and you gasp, full blown as you stare at him. “C’mon kitten, don’t be so coy.” His eyes darkened but still his tone remained playful; slick gathered at your thighs and it’s almost as if he scented it with how quick his eyes snapped to your skirt.

“Sylus, the panties were already inappropriate enough. I can lose my license—” You stammer, your voice small and timid as you speak. This man… would be the death of you.

“I won’t let that happen.” 

You swallow, staring hard in his eyes. Looking in his eyes made you want to bend to his every whim and to continue. Your thighs spread a bit because honestly, you wanted this. “Fine.” You relinquished every ounce of self respect you had for yourself and spread your legs completely apart. A slap of cool air brushes against your bare skin, your shutter but spread your folds. You rub at your clit, staring in those addicting eyes. 

He drinks in the sight of you — dripping and oozing out spilling to the chair, he straightens himself, his eyes now locked between your thighs. Your clit is hard and throbbing knowing that his eyes are on your most delicate parts. You circle your entrance, collecting the slick that sits there before you dip it inside – teasing both you and him. You feel the warmth of yourself as you stroke your finger in and out of your walls, sloppy noises echoing around the room. Your thighs tremble and breathing heavy, he briefly glances at your face and back to the dripping sight below.  Your face scrunched up in a sense of pure ecstasy, you pop your finger out of your cunt and you put a finger in your mouth before rubbing your clit again, your thighs bucking and your hips humping upwards. 

His feet tap against the floor watching another finger join the one already knuckle deep inside of you, his fingers twitch looking at how wet and creamy your fingers are pumping in and out. “There’s a thrill… and excitement that comes with doing dangerous things…” His voice trails off, your mouth agape spilling little moans. “It feels good… it’s never a sense of pride, it’s more of a –” Using your other hand, you rub fast at your clit at the same time your fingers thrust inside deeper, hitting another spot that makes a bit of cream drip under you. “It’s more of a simple pleasure, just something to take the edge off of life. It’s a high… c’mon kitten, you’re killing me there. Need to see your face when you cum.” 

Your stomach sucks in at the words and you whine, leaking with a deep orgasm and deep breathing. “Ohhhhh!” Cream continues to spill out, you milk yourself more – curling your fingers before you pull them out with a drawn out moan. “Oh, mmm…” You feel so tired, your eyes dropping and a fuzzy brain when you turn your attention back on him. 

“What’s your next request for answering this last question?” You huff, your face flushed and your body trembling. You still tried to cover yourself but he just laughed, full and heartily. 

“I want you to sit on my face.” He’s hard, tapping his foot against the floor again still looking at your creamy pussy. “That’s all.”

“What?” But it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, no matter how much you fought on his demands… you knew you’d give in and you knew how badly you wanted him.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He said again, nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But… why? Are you trying to make me lose my job? Or are you just insane and don’t care about my livelihood or my dignity?” But really, it didn’t matter, with all you did now… your license was already revoked. 

“Would you rather be a good girl and sit on my lap? Grind yourself on my cock?” It was an enticing offer and you had to mentally stop yourself from taking it up. “Just keep being an obedient little girl like you have been and come sit on my face.” He’s pulling himself from the chair to lie on the floor with a bright smile on his lips. He waited, both of you already knew that you were going to come. 

“First... put your fingers in my mouth.” It makes you jump when he says that but you swallow your nerves and pride, reaching over and letting his tongue work its way through your fingers, his tongue slimy wet and sticky all at once. He groans out at the taste. “Sit.” He says simply. You’d never did this before, your legs trembled just standing above his head and even more when you bent down. 

You hovered over him, a string of your slick dripping over his face before he moved his head to capture it between his tongue with a groan; swirling his tongue in a circular motion as he took in the taste. “So wet…tastes so good.” His voice deep and inviting; sticking his tongue inside then flicks his tongue against your clit and wraps his mouth around it — sucking it before he releases it with a plop sound.  “Sit.” He told you, rubbing his hands across your ass, spreading it so that your pussy would wink at him with a small gushy sound. He firmly sits completely on his face so that his face is covered with you. 

His tongue feels like a thousand tongues when you drip over his face, grinding your hips and circling them. Your knees digging into the floor when you slide forward and back against him.“Sy–lus!” The pad of his tongue licks up your slit, moving to your folds and up to suckle on your throbbing clit. You tug his hair and he buries his face impossibly more into your pussy. Grinding and shaking his face into you before gripping your hips to make you really grind against his mouth.

You squeal with every moment as he uses his tongue to curl deep inside of you – your legs shaking and he slurps. Your toes curl inside of your stuffy shoes and though you can’t see his face because of the skirt you wear, you can feel the devilish smirk against your flesh.

He pulls you up, holds you. A string of his salvia and your slick and cream mixed together on his lips. “Never did ask that question, sweetie.”

“Oh, fuck you Sylus.” He’s sitting you back down, your thighs squeezing his head. His mouth latched to your clit and doing deep sucks with his fingers pressed deep in your thighs. Opening his mouth wider to truly capture all of what he can of your cunt — there’s a deep hunger in every lick he gives, his tongue dragging down from your clit to your slit and back up again. He laps at your folds with nothing else but groans and soft moans that leave both of your mouths.

His tongue swirls on your clit before small soft kisses that make you flinch. Cream and slick trickling down your thighs, your hips continue to hump him — it was as if his face belonged there, his tongue glued to your core and eating up everything you had to offer. Lifting you again, he says, “Want to feel that pretty pussy soaking me… you’d like that won’t you?” He grins, showing all his teeth. You’re quick to nod your head, tears in your eyes… this man was turning you into his plaything and you could care less… there was a thrill to this.

He doesn’t take off his pants much to your disappointment but he helps you to sit on his lap, his lust filled scarlet eyes filled with nothing but desire as he rolls his hips against yours. A small gasp leaves your mouth, your bare cunt soaking his pants and his cock deliciously digging into your core. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him thrust up against your throbbing center. 

Throwing your head back – you rock your hips back and forth against his clothed cock – feeling him press himself harder into you, rubbing himself against your core with deep throaty groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. You try to match his movements, hips bouncing up and down against him with needy whines leaving your lips. You both hiss when his cockhead brushes up against your clit – he rubs himself back and forth repeatedly, slowly while you move faster – chasing that high and in that moment you knew of the pleasure and the high that Sylus mentioned earlier because your body was reveling in it. 

Your stomach swoops at the sticky sounds that come from your pussy and the soft noises he makes. Even with soundproof office spaces, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you both. Lazy grinding becomes thrusting again before downright dirty gyrating of both of you against each other – so close, you were almost there yet again. Pathetic sinful whimpers falling out of your mouth, he presses openmouthed kisses up and down your neck, nibbling on your clavicle. Your back arches, tears falling from your eyes, your pussy sliding against him and his hips stuttering. But he stops, standing you both up. 

“W–why’d you stop?” You’re gasping for air on trembling legs, he holds you close. Small sniffles leaving your mouth, desperate to feel him.

“I believe our time is up, sweetie. Maybe another visit will help unpack more.” He chuckles, walking towards the door. “I’ll return these on my next visit.”

[sadesluvr]

Beautiful Liar

After you boyfriend Randy is tragically murdered, Billy is determined to be the shoulder you cry on.

A/N: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Please read the tags, and minors DNI!

Word count: 3.6K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Dacryphilia / Manipulation / Grief / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Loss of virginity / Corruption kink / Gaslighting / Misogyny / Reader has a vagina / Fingering

Randy Meeks was dead, and there was no way to change that.  

He’d been murdered, brutally; his body in tatters, bloody mess left on the stockroom floor of the video store he’d worked at. Police had said it was a homicide, just another in a series of attacks by the infamous masked ‘Ghostface’ killer that had been running around Woodsboro. The whole town, your friend group included, had been speculating the person – or people’s - identity, wondering if they were male or female, old or young, insider or outsider...either way, the sole question was why. Why Woodsboro? Why now? Why your friends?  

The simple answer – in Randy’s case at least – was that you were living in a classic horror movie, in which none of you would get out of alive unless you followed the rules, (which was the sole reason why you hadn’t slept with him during your relationship) but that particular answer was far from satisfying to you. First Sidney’s mother had disappeared, next was Casey and her boyfriend, soon followed by Sidney’s father, Tatum, Randy and Sidney herself, leaving only you to remain. You were, as Randy would dub it, ‘the final girl’. 

And you hated it. Randy painted these women as strong, brave, heroic, even, but you were far from it; instead worn down and shattered by the massacre of those closest to you over the past six months. There was a reason that the term was only reserved for the movies; it was too difficult, maybe even downright impossible to be able to fight back in real life, especially when it had happened so constantly and so close to home. There were few words you had to speak anymore, and when you did you found that they were only able to materialise around Billy Loomis. 

Billy, and his friend Stu Macher were the only of those that remained. Randy would’ve chalked it down to it being intentional, but the only pattern you could see was that they were killing ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’, which meant either of the two could’ve been next. 

So, imagine your shock – and horror – when Stu had gone missing, leaving nothing but a bloodied shoe in his wake. It was the only death of your friends that you hadn’t been to; no morgue visits or ceremonies, with Billy choosing to spend the day with you after he claimed that the Macher’s had just wanted family at his funeral. You would’ve been hurt, but considering you’d spent the past few months feeling like a curse, you were rather happy to keep your distance. 

“Thanks for staying with me…” you sighed, rubbing your red eyes. You’d been crying over Randy again, and although Billy wasn’t someone who liked dealing with emotions, he’d been a shoulder to cry on – literally – his silence giving you space to vent. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess…” 

“I think you’re taking this too hard,” he said simply, watching you intently as you tried to compose yourself. “None of this is your fault. There are psychos everywhere.” 

“Yeah, but why us? How am I still here?” you gasped, the question blatantly rhetorical.  

“Luck. And skill. You’ve been in the right place at the right time,” he sniffed. “Maybe the killer doesn’t want you dead...” 

“Oh, that’s comforting.” You scoffed, dabbing at your nose with a tissue. He didn’t reply, but he tapped his finger impatiently along the edge of the sofa as his eyes roamed your body.  

You used to be such a sweet little thing; always dolled up in your signature clothes and makeup, but now you were timid, a recluse, even, walking around in Randy’s old shirts and running on two hours of sleep (if that). He couldn’t argue – solely because he’d been the one to cause this - but in time he’d get you back to the way you were. In fact, he might’ve even enjoyed this broken version of you even more; with swollen lips, a melancholy glow, and a psyche that was desperate for affection that only your former boyfriend could’ve given to you. 

Killing Randy had been exhilarating. It’d been all too easy, the boy practically boasted about his job (and therefore his schedule), and then it had been down to hiding in the stock room on his late shift, only to lunge at him from the shadows, pointed blade digging in and ravaging his pale flesh, all the while he screamed – even cried – your name. That was your knight in shining armour, a guy who’d failed to follow the rules he swore to live by. Pathetic. 

He’d shown him his face right before he died, remembering the way his eyes, though dull and rubber like a fish, had seemingly shone with recognition. He’d put the pieces together, simply far too late. 

“Don’t worry, Randy,” he’d said. “I’ll take good care of your little girlfriend.” 

Even in his moribund state, the nerd had known what he’d meant, his eyes flickering with worry just as the life had snapped out of him, the whole situation comically cinematic. All that was next was to kill Sidney, the girl that Randy adored before you’d even transferred to Woodsboro. It was simple; Sidney was collateral, and you were a spoil of war. And there was no one left to save you. 

“I think you should go outside,” Billy said bluntly. “Being inside all day isn’t good for your head.” 

You sighed and wiped your face, glancing around your living room. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d opened the curtains; much less when was the last time you’d gotten off the couch. The television was always on, and you’d done nothing but aimlessly flick through the channels, both avoiding yet drawing yourself to the news, hoping there’d be an update on the killer. It struck you as odd that it had all gone silent. 

“Like...Where?” you said incredulously, and Billy resisted the urge to sigh. 

“We could go to the movies,” he suggested. “It’ll be on me. I’ll even let you watch those terrible romance ones with the sappy endings.” 

You seemed to perk up at this, glancing over at the time on the clock across the room. It was 6:15, and if you showered quick enough (and found some clean, unwrinkled clothes) you could make it to a random seven o’clock screening. It was kind enough that Billy was here with you, but offering to take you to a romance film took selfishness out of the question – he was a true friend, treating you in the same way he had Sidney.

You, like many others, had joked about how perfect he was, often wishing that Randy had been the same way. He’d been nice, without a doubt, but sometimes he was erratic and clingy (some would say annoying), whereas Billy was far more level-headed and relaxed, evident through his constant support. It was time for you to smile, even if it would be temporary. 

“Okay...” You whispered with a weak smile, standing to your feet. “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna freshen up.”   

Billy’s deep brown eyes followed your figure as you walked past him and disappeared up the stairs. Sitting for a moment, he stared at the blaring screen of the television before shutting it off. Considering your state, he’d been surprised that it had been that easy, but apparently all it took for a girl to come around was the promise of a free outing and cliche love stories. The silence was telling – your parents weren’t around – and he pondered your reaction to his arrival in your bedroom...for company, of course. 

Pushing himself up from the couch, he followed you, his shoes barely making a noise as he made his way up the steps before stopping at your bedroom door, being a gentleman and taking his shoes off before he entered. A crack of light from the doorway of the bathroom told him that it was occupied, and so he took it as a signal to enter your threshold, wasting no time in rummaging through your drawers.  

He ran his lithe fingers over the outlines of your bra, following the soft cotton and curved shape as he imagined holding your tits in his hands, groping and tugging on them as you rode his cock, screaming and moaning his name so loudly that you forgot all about your idiot boyfriend.

It was the same with your panties, except he wanted to cut them off you, to watch as your legs trembled from trying to avoid the blade; only to get nipped, ruby rivulets trickling down your thighs. He’d rub it, smear the substance across your skin as he tried to soothe you, your fluids coating his skin and fingernails, only to been mixed with the translucent l cream of your orgasm – over and over and over again.  

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he waited for you to come in, raising his brows at your squeal upon seeing him. You were only in a dressing gown, with your bra peeking out of the sides of the fluffy material. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly was now. 

“Billy!” You gasped. “I told you to wait downstairs!” 

“I got bored,” he shrugged. “I wanted to see more of you.” 

You gave him a pointed look as you scraped your earrings off the dresser, clipping them on as you paced around the room in search of an outfit.  

“You know me,” you chuckled. “We’ve been friends for a year.” 

“Yeah, but do you ever really know someone?” He said softly, his gaze locked on your own as he cocked his head, blinking slowly at your confused expression. There was something unsettling about his tone, and you couldn’t help but think back to one of Randy’s many pained rants: “Never trust anyone. Everyone’s a suspect, even the love interest!” Did he know something you didn’t, or was he just being his typical, elusive self?

“I mean, come on now, Y/N. Look around. There’s no one left…just us. I think it’s time we got to know each-other.” 

Pulling on some pants under your gown, you frowned. 

“What’re you saying?” 

“We should be closer than we are,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to fiddle with the strap of your gown leisurely, his eye contact fleeting, but coy. “How else are we going to get through this?” 

Your eyes widened, and you gave Billy a once over as you contemplated the implications of his words. He’d never really been that much of the touchy type up until now, and it couldn’t be coincidental that all of a sudden he’d become so close to you. Perhaps it was the stress; the trauma of losing his friends that made him feel like he needed to fill the void. Or maybe it was genuine, that he wanted to stick through this real-life tragedy with you. Why else would he stay the long nights and weekends, watching TV with you or offering you his snacks?  

“Y-You’re a good friend,” you stammered. “Really. But I just don’t know if I can let anyone close to me anymore. What if you get killed!?” You choked, and Billy pulled you to the side of him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. Tracing small circles on your back, he let you fix yourself before he pulled away, staring into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I promise. And you know why?” 

You shook your head. 

“I spoke to Randy a few days before he died. He was  paranoid – you know how he was – I guess you could say that he had a sense he was going to die…” Billy paused, eyes flickering with recognition before he swallowed and continued. “…He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I should be the one to take care of you. He knew how close you were with Sidney, and she’d have wanted the same.” 

Shakily, your lips parted as you took a breath. Sidney, like many others, had always gushed about how sweet Billy was – particularly how patient he’d been when it’d come to having sex. It would only be logical for them to say that, given the fact that Stu was the only other candidate. No one else would’ve stuck beside you, putting up with your weeks of moping and incessant crying. It was only right that you started giving him some thanks. After all, he was all you had left. 

“O-okay,” you smiled softly before wrinkling your nose. You were so close to Billy that strands of his hair was grazing against your face, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne – icy, yet comforting. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I guess I got so wrapped up in thinking about Randy that I haven’t really been grateful to you. Come on, let’s go out —“ 

“This isn’t about the movies.” Billy interjected, his brows slightly  wrinkled. “This is about you. You’re a girl, and you have needs.”  

You froze, always worried it would come to this.  

“I can’t let you do that,” you said affirmatively. “You were with Sidney, she was my friend —“ 

“She’s gone now,” he said, zero inklings of emotion detected within his voice. “Just like Randy’s gone. I have needs too, you know. You’re not really being a good friend by ignoring them.” 

“Billy…” 

“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a slow but enticing manner. “I think about you a lot. I want to do more to help you…but you’re not letting me.” 

You knew it was wrong to go there, but part of you knew that he had a point. There was no use in festering in misery; Randy, Sidney and the rest of your friends were gone for good, and there was ultimately nothing that would change that. All you could do was focus on what you had now, and that was Billy; patient, willing, and ready to carry out the wishes of your deceased friends. You just had to let him in. 

Silently, you nodded, and he took that as confirmation to kiss you. His lips were warm and wanting, but certainly felt unfamiliar, and you found that it took you a while to find a suitable rhythm. Billy wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, kissing down your neck as he straddled you, the faint outline of his hardening cock brushing against your covered leg. His hands lingered on the tie of your robe, glancing down at it with a smirk before pulling it undone, exposing your semi-nude torso to the cool air of the bedroom. 

Your heart leapt out of your chest; not because what you were doing was taboo, but because you’d never done it before. You were about to lose your virginity to your dead friend’s boyfriend – something that your cloudy mind couldn’t comprehend.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaving love bits on your chest as his fingers slipped under your bra and pinching and rubbing at the surrounding skin and sensitive nipples. “Randy didn’t know what he had…” 

Letting out a moan, you allowed yourself to be consumed by him, pushing off his open button-up so that he was left in his white shirt. He didn’t look much, but his arms were surprisingly muscular, and you found yourself tracing along the outlines of his skin, inadvertently pulling him closer.  

Billy pulled away, a smirk visible on his face as he unzipped his pants, sliding his trousers to his ankles before readjusting himself on the bed. Taking your hand, he guided you off the bed and brought you to your feet. 

“Strip for me,” he lulled, watching you intently for a reaction. “I want to see how pretty you are…” 

Nervously, you peeled the robe off your body, dropping it to the floor at the edge of your bed before undoing your pants, all under the watchful, jaded eyes of Billy Loomis. As cliched as it sounded, you felt like a bride on her wedding night, nerves released by Billy’s soothing coos and gentle touch. He patted the bed – yours, which you seemed to forget – and you laid down, taking laboured breaths as his brown locks disappeared between your thighs, skin breaking into goosebumps as he slid your panties down your legs. 

“You’re wet...” he hummed, placing his index and middle together before rubbing your hood in small, deliberate circles. “I think you wanted me more than you let on.” 

“B-Billy...” you gasped, shutting your eyes at the pleasurable sensation. “I-I’ve never...” 

“Shh, I know, I know...” he whispered, his touch becoming rougher as he prodded and spread your lips apart, admiring your insides like some sort of fucked-up doctor. “ ‘M gonna make you feel good, but you need a little practise first...” 

Billy began to finger you, withdrawing his digits every so often to admire the way the slickness of your arousal coated his skin, glossy and translucent, the feeling second only to the blood of his victims on his skin. As he curled his fingers within you, he found that you began to shake and clench; your orgasm abruptly evident.

As much as he wanted to indulge in it, he wanted to savour you – and so pulled his fingers out, earning a breathy whine from you. Hastily, he lowered his boxers, his erect cock jutting out like a weapon as he stalked you, pushing your body deep into the pillows as he straddled you. 

“D-Do you have protection...?” you whispered meekly, and Billy could’ve came right there and then at the sight of you, lips parted and begging to be kissed as you gazed at him through your lashes.  

“No...” he replied, watching the fear wash over your face. “But it’s ok. I was safe with Sidney, and you’ve never had sex, right? That means you’re good.” 

Biting your lip, you debated protesting, but found it wasn't worth it. You wanted him – needed this – and you were already sinning by fucking your dead friends’ boyfriend. What did unprotected sex have on that? 

“You’re right,” you said with a small smile, puffing your cheeks as you prepared for him to enter you. “Be gentle...” 

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he said firmly, eyes unblinking as he adjusted himself at your entrance, the edge of his cock grazing against your folds. “We’re in this together, remember?” 

You knew he meant it when he kissed you upon his penetration, his lips swallowing your whine as he entered you. He wasn’t by any means a stallion – simply averaged sized – but he filled you almost instantly, a dull ache forming around your walls as he began to thrust his hips up into you. If this was what sex was like; rhythmic, passionate, if not a little sharp-edged, then you were partially sad that you hadn’t got to experience it with Randy...the remaining deeply selfish part of you glad that it was with Billy. 

He seemed to know every part of you, where to kiss, where to rub, where to hold – when to slow down and when to quicken, all adorned with his sweet nothings that he spoke into your neck, ever so occasionally peering up at you through his lashes, his exact thoughts elusive to you. He cared, right? Why else would he hold you so close to him, kiss your collarbone, rub and soothe your thighs as he rolled his hips deeper, your pelvises slapping against each other in the heat of the moment? 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned as your lips gripped his bare shaft. “So good to me...Taking me so well...” 

You whined, the sound getting lost under the slight creaking of the bed and the rustle of your bedsheets, tightening your arms around his neck as you drew him closer into you and running a hand through his hair. Billy was thankful, thankful that you couldn’t see his shit-eating smirk from this position onto of you, but much more for Randy; as if he hadn’t had been such a paranoid nerd, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to imprint himself on you forever. 

His strokes were deep and fulfilling, the head of his cock beginning to buck up into your g-spot, pleasure made more overwhelming as he reached down again to rub at your clit. It was dark, somewhat twisted, but it was perfect; and you could actually feel your anxieties disappear entirely. Who was Randy? Had you ever really loved him? 

Even amongst your white haze as you got closer to the heat of your orgasm, you were able to make out the sound of a lock opening. Your eyes shot open, trying to piece together footsteps and visible signs of entry – Billy had been the only one to come in, perhaps he’d forgotten to lock the door? Or maybe it was your parents, home early from their outing? Worse, maybe it was the killer, dead on arrival like the Grim Reaper as soon as you’d gone against the rules and had sex. 

“Billy —“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock hit your sensitive spot. “The door��I-I think someone’s here…” 

“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmured into your ear. “I didn’t hear anything…” 

A plunging, shaking feeling consumed you as you came, half-lidded eyes making out the shape of a gloved hand and knife creeping from behind the door. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came from it. All you could do was lie there, throat parched and the air knocked out of your lungs as you watched the figure enter the room; not hooded, masked or even bloody – but taking the shape and form of a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair. 

Stu was alive, and Billy had lied to you. 

[haesunflower]

moments that makes everyone think you're dating (zb1).....₊˚⊹♡

genre: fluff/comedy

pairing: reader (mostly gn) x zerobaseone

about/tags: you're not dating, but everyone seems to think you are? hmm i wonder why?

just cute things hehe...

⠀⠀♡ kim jiwoong ♡ ⠀⠀

for some reason, you are always invited to movie night at the dorms

the boys initially teased jiwoong, but you cleared the air and told everyone that you were just childhood friends and you've never dated

the boys reluctantly accept the story

but your legs are always intertwined at the couch, and your head is always finding comfort on his chest, and his arms are always draped around your figure

members are dumbfounded, confused, then disgusted. friends??? always holding each other like that??? in front of us????

taerae who was getting popcorn, throws a singular piece to the both of you after he sees jiwoong nuzzling his nose into your hair

"the both of you...get a room please we're trying to enjoy the movie"

"you're just jealous taerae" you snipe back, throwing back the popcorn piece

jiwoong giggles and says "taerae-ya if you wanted to be cuddled you could have just said so"

everyone in the room is laughing except for taerae

⠀⠀ ♡ zhang hao ♡ ⠀⠀

you're his lockscreen in one of his many phones

when members would ask who that is – gyuvin, ricky, and yujin (the ones that have known hao the longest) would snicker and giggle, egging the question on and insinuating that you're hao's significant other

"oh, that's y/n. my best friend from when I was in school"

"best friend huuuhhh" gyuvin teases, raising his eyebrows up and down

hao throws a pillow at gyuvin to get him to shut up

one time, ricky caught hao going through your old pictures together and compiling it for a sweet birthday message he was gonna send to you

best believe that ricky immediately informed gyuvin and yujin about what he was doing and he got teased relentlessly that day

the 3 other yuehuaz end up gossiping to the rest of the members that they have in fact, met you in person and that you are in fact, insanely gorgeous that hao is out of your league and that in fact, gyuvin said he found you stunning and hao in fact, gave gyuvin the silent treatment for 2 weeks.

⠀⠀ ♡ sung hanbin ♡ ⠀⠀

hanbin asks for your help often to meal prep and cook at the dorms with him – it's mostly stuff that can be frozen and reheated for the week so that the boys have healthy homecooked meals to enjoy

it's grossly domestic, you'd think the both of you were in a long term relationship

sometimes, the members catch you feeding each other

hanbin would blow gently on the spoon before catching your attention by tilting your chin upwards, "how does this taste?"

he brings the spoon to your mouth and he beams when you smile and give him a thumbs up

in the summer, the kitchen gets too hot so you find yourself dabbing at hanbin's forehead sweat while he stirs the sauce

he shoots you a grateful smile, cheek dimples on display

"god, are you two married or what?" jiwoong grumbles as he passes by

you two just chuckle

⠀⠀ ♡ seok matthew ♡ ⠀⠀

you're his gym buddy and actually no one knows that you exist up until a few members started asking matthew if they could join him at the gym

you always greet matt so cheerfully, giving him a hello hug (you're both foreigners)

every time you finish a set you guys high five one another, and if you lack motivation he'll say something like: "one more set and i'll give you a reward"

"oh yeah like what, matt?"

"guess you'll have to finish up and see" 😉

harmless flirting is an effective motivational tool for the both of you

the rewards range from: a pre-workout smoothie treat or a signed photocard of himself haha

gunwook and jiwoong once caught matt staring at your ass :D not his fault your ass so fat :D

so it comes as a shock to gunwook when he hears you answering a phone call from your boyfriend, right after the three of you finished a circuit

when you leave, gunwook turns to matthew and says "she has a boyfriend? i thought you were the boyfriend!"

matthew has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face and says "nah we're just friends" and takes a sip of his water

⠀⠀ ♡ kim taerae ♡ ⠀⠀

he's like your driver, and you're the ultimate passenger princess/prince

taerae rushes out of practice the moment it's over "sorry guys gotta go, y/n is waiting for me to pick them up from school"

matthew calls taerae out for being a simp, while hanbin scolds matthew to leave the loverboy alone :(

taerae has no time to correct hanbin and just rushes out of there

he doesn't like making you wait after all!!

whenever it starts to rain too, he would leave the dorms telling members he's running an errand, when everyone knows he's just going to where you are so you don't have to commute in the rain

one time, taerae and hao were out to run an ACTUAL errand when you called him in a panic to ask if he was in the area – you were drenched in the rain and your phone was about to die

taerae of course, said he would come get you :) he also made hao move to the backseat so you could be right next to him :)

⠀⠀♡ ricky ♡ ⠀⠀

he's always on his damn phone, grinning from ear to ear or giggling to himself

when members ask him what's so funny, his face goes back to neutral and says "nothing"

the members don't know who he's texting and facetiming

while you were talking on facetime, ricky left his phone on the kitchen counter so he could make himself some food, and gyuvin took this as an opportunity to snatch his phone to figure out who you were

gyuvin was so quick, ricky didn't even realize it happened

gyuvin brought the phone to gunwook's room where they eagerly said hi and introduced themselves, then continued to ask you a bunch of questions like "how did you meet?" "how long have you been dating?" "what do you like best about ricky?"

i mean, you could answer all the questions but you had no time to – as ricky busted the door open and snatched the phone back

"sorry about that y/n, my members obviously don't have any common courtesy"

"haha it's fine ricky, they're very cute"

"cute??? cute you find them cute???" ricky sounds offended as he walks away from the two other members, shooting them a look and faking a punch

⠀⠀♡ kim gyuvin ♡ ⠀⠀

any free time he gets, he visits home so he can spend time with eumppappa

both you and gyuvin were the dog sitters and dog walkers for your building before he debuted

but he's getting a little busier nowadays, and his visits to his family home have been less frequent

you decide you'd walk eumppappa and your dog aiki to gyuvin's dorm for a quick visit, which has then become weekly tradition

the members just assume you're his significant other with how often you visit with his dog

that, and the fact that gyuvin refers to you as "eumppappa's eomma" and you refer to gyuvin as "aiki's appa"

the members don't know it's because you bought the dogs together

whatever tho, everyone thinks it's so cute

⠀⠀♡ park gunwook ♡ ⠀⠀

he's inserting you in the conversation any chance he gets

like when the boys are just playing overwatch or league of legends gunwook goes "ahhh i should invite y/n to play"

or when gunwook is trying food from a new restaurant he would excitedly take a picture and say "y/n would like this i should send some to her"

or when he's out shopping he would say "this would look so great on y/n"

or when he's helping yujin with school and he surprisingly doesn't know the answer, he says "y/n would know this, hold on let me ask"

again, every chance he gets. your name is mentioned. he's like an excited little puppy when your name gets mentioned by other people too

example, "gunwook i got ice cream - maybe you can share with y/n" and then he's bolting to his phone asking you to come over

the older members thinks it's adorable, how much he likes you

and when you actually meet the members clad in gunwook's sweater they all come to the conclusion you feel the same way for him

A/N: i missed writing and being delulu

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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[weirdsht]

cale with someone that just get red in the face easily?? like they don't even know they're red in the face and people thinks it's cute,, but it's embarrassing at the same time??

Unwanted Hue - Cale/Reader

tags: gender neutral reader, 4+1 fic, vague novel spoilers

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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The first it happened you didn’t even know you were blushing. In fact, up until this moment, no one has mentioned just how easily your face turns red.

Just how many times did you unintentionally blush and people got the wrong idea?

You don’t want to think about it.

“Oh no no, I’m not embarrassed really! I’m not even sure why I’m blushing.”

Reassuring the poor red kitten, you touched your face. Indeed they felt a bit hot to the touch. 

“But I accidentally told them your secret…”

What happened was that the children averaging nine years old are currently hanging out with you. They were talking amongst themselves while you brushed the kitten’s fur. While talking, Hong accidentally let it slip that you like reading cheesy romance novels. And for some reason you started blushing at the revelation making the kitten panic, thinking you were embarrassed.

“It wasn’t a secret.”

You reassured him. And it honestly wasn’t. There was just no reason to bring up that you like such things.

The children looked at you and nodded in understanding. You thought they got the message that they understood.

However, you missed the silent conversation they had with their eyes. Telling each other that they should keep this fact a secret for you to not be embarrassed anymore.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Please stop teasing _____-nim. Look they’re so flustered they’re sweating.”

Ron gently dabs the handkerchief on your face. Drying the sweat that has accumulated on your forehead.

“No, I wasn’t flustered–”

“I’m so sorry _____-nim. I didn’t mean to make you feel such a way.”

“Wait no, I wasn’t–”

One of the wolf children didn’t hear what you said and just went on his merry way. Probably going back to the training grounds.

That same child had just asked you earlier if you’ve ever had a significant before. You have not, but that’s no reason for you to be flustered about it. You fully understand that the one has just not come to you yet.

So why are you blushing?

It’s just that a few minutes before meeting that child, you had accidentally zoned out while soaking in warm water. The steam made your already easily flushed face even redder while making your forehead sweaty.

“I will be on my way now. I’ll make sure that the children do not ask you such questions.”

“But I didn’t mind…”

You mumbled to yourself as you watched Ron’s back walking away from you.

+~+~+~+~+~+

You think you’re getting used to the fact that people always misunderstand you because of your face. It’s not like the misunderstandings it caused will result in life or death so you let some of them be.

However, it doesn’t take away the embarrassment paired with it whenever someone has the wrong idea about you.

“So you really are Commander Cale’s significant other!”

The Bear King exclaims loudly for everyone to hear.

“Wait no–!”

“No need to hide it. Your face tells me everything.”

You touched your cheeks, feeling the hotness from your palms. You were indeed blushing. But it’s a lie that you were with Cale.

You wish for the ground to eat you alive.

This is so embarrassing. Usually, the misunderstandings are just between you and your friends. Not a large scale like this where it’s from the enemy and other people are listening.

Curse your easily flustered face. Curse the enemies. Just curse everything.

You’re sure that rumours are going to spread very soon.

“Just listen to me–”

You try to retaliate as the bear attacks you.

The worst part about this whole thing is that none of Cale’s close circle is here to defend you against the allegations.

“AHAHAHAHA! Are you afraid because I’ve found you’re secret? That I’ve found your dear commander’s weakness?”

Just what kind of bull–

Anyways, since this idiot is so insistent on not hearing you out you just attacked him. Maybe if his severely injured after this battle the rumours would not manage to spread.

You don’t know how you’ll explain what happened once the news gets to Cale…

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Look how cute they look when they blush!”

“But I feel bad for making them feel embarrassed…”

Another day, another person misunderstands your emotions because of that stupid blush on your face that easily appears.

At this point, you’ve given up trying to correct people.

It’s not like they listen anyway.

Today the duo getting the wrong idea are Cage and Jack. With the former enjoying the redness in your face.

“So how does it feel to be the young master’s rumoured significant other? When are you guys gonna put up an official announcement?”

Cage joked. She knows that you aren’t actually together. However, she finds joy in teasing you.

“Does young master-nim know about it yet?”

Jack asks you, trying to change the topic to save you from the embarrassment. To which you are thankful for.

While you are not embarrassed yet, despite what your face says, you will be soon if Cage continues with her teasing.

“I don’t think he knows yet. There’s another rumour about him circling after all. I think his too busy extinguishing the fire out of that one first.”

The excommunicated priestess nodded in understanding while poking your red cheeks.

“That’s true, but say _____. Why do you look so cute when you’re all flustered and embarrassed like this?”

“I keep trying to tell you that I’m not–”

Knock. Knock

As you were about to explain yourself someone knocked on the door. The Sun God Saint opened the door to see Cale with a bewildered look on his face.

“_____ did you know about the rumours circulating about us?”

Sigh

You sighed as you got up from the couch you and Cage were sitting on.

Guess you have a lot of explaining to do.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Once you explained what happened with the Bear King to Cale he immediately understood. He too has been a victim of their overthinking and their ability to jump to absurd conclusions. That was why he wasn’t mad.

In fact, he seems to use you as an excuse at every chance he gets.

“I would love to chat more with you. However, my significant other is not comfortable in such crowded places.”

Both of you are currently attending a celebratory banquet and Cale is using you as his getaway excuse.

“Oh my is that so? I guess they’re the shy type. Just look at how red their face has become!”

The noble lady ushered the two of you to give you privacy. You’re not really shy. It’s just too humid in here that your face is going red.

Cale thanked her for her understanding before grabbing your waist to lead you out of the hall.

You can hear almost everyone coo at how you become redder at his action.

“Sometimes your easily red face can be useful too.”

Cale smiles and you don’t need a mirror to know that your face has gotten even redder.

…At that moment you swear to yourself that you won’t tell anyone that you actually felt flustered because of the young commander.

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Paint - OA Zidan x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @trublu2u @mrspeacem1nusone @greenies-green @rosaliedepp @whateversomethingbruh @anime-weeb-4-life @daydreaming-belle @burningpeachpuppy @scarlettsakura @divergent146 @upsteadlogic @malindacath @skyesthebomb @yezzyyae @redpool @kmc1989 @stxrryswvrld @district447 @soultrysworld @reneejett4 @yousigned-upforthis @stelacole @tems13 @abby-splace

Hitting Bingo Square: Body Paint

You’re different from the other women Omar’s been with, in bed and out of it. You’re teach him about sensuality, that sex doesn’t have to be a race to the finish, it’s about connection and intimacy.

Your confidence has built since the first time he took you to bed. He’d been honoured that you had chosen to take that step with him, he knows how hard it can be to give yourself someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability.

There’s a playfulness in you tonight, he’d seen it in your eyes when he’d unwrapped the gift you’d brought home this afternoon. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone when you had set it down in front of him.

“Body paint.” He had uttered, studying the box with interest before you’d taken his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

You undress him slowly, his forehead resting against yours as your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. It plays out like a seduction, gentle fingertips and teasing kisses gracing his skin until he finds himself splayed out upon a set of old sheets you’ve laid down especially for the occasion.

He’s a masterpiece, your man. All of that firm muscle and bare skin. His arm is thrown up above his head as he watches you with those beautiful dark eyes of his. He’s hard already, his cock leaking onto his stomach because the feel of your hands on his body…

It ruins him.

You start with orange, a tiny dab with the soft brush. The paint feels cool on underside of his bicep as you guide the brush over his flesh. It’s a pleasurable feeling, light and teasing. He makes a  noise in the back of his throat as you allow the paintbrush to trail down his shoulder, following the line of his collarbone until you reach the centre of his chest.

“How does it feel?” You ask him, pausing to reapply more paint to your brush.

“Good.” He says, his voice a little rough. “Relaxing.”

“You have been a little tense over the past couple of days, I thought it might be a fun way to diffuse some of that.” You say distractedly as you swirl the paintbrush over his sensitive skin.  

“It’s working.” He mumbles, his hips arching just a little as you doodle down the centre of his chest.

You take your time with him, using his body like your canvas until he’s needy and wanting. When your tongue runs over the tip of his cock, a moan tears from his throat. He tilts his head to look at you, those pretty lips of yours wrapping his dick as your gaze meets his.

“Hanna…” He warns you because the build up it’s been too much and the sensation of your mouth, it’s overstimulating, it drives him right to the pinnacle of ecstasy and he just can’t stop himself.

You pull your mouth away from his cock with a lewd pop, your palm replacing it. It barely takes more than a couple motions before he’s coming, his release spilling over your hand and across his stomach in thick spurts.

It takes him a couple of minutes to catch his breath but when he does Omar finds himself laughing as he stares down at the artwork that covers his body. He’s never felt as free as he does with you, so light, so content. He smiles as you lay down alongside of him in your underwear, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he whispers.

“It’s your turn.”

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[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: iii.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

If you thought that on December 8th you would get a break from Gojou Satoru in your life, you were very much so wrong.

At this hour, there isn't even an opportunity to even try meeting up with your friends. They're all in school, one without the luxury of giving students the day off when a birthday or two comes around. You really do have to hope and pray for an opportunity to hang out to fall into your lap. It was one of your few promises to yourself when you entered the world of fighting against curses rather than passively living with them.

Even if you were living out an otaku's dream of fighting evil, you wouldn't forget the normalcy you were leaving behind.

It's just a lot easier said than done now that you're no longer in it ー not that you truly ever were as someone born to see curses.

At the very least, though, if things had been a bit different, you could have at least spent the hours leading up to your birthday with your actual friends instead of the class menace. I don't even know why he's here, you grumble as you skulk forward through the crowd. There are so many things Gojou could be doing besides being in your vicinity.

He could have gone to an arcade.

He could have stayed in his room playing video games. No, instead he's here with you smack dab in the middle of town because it would have been too boring on his own otherwise. Can't he be bored somewhere else? You again wallow over the fact your friends are in school at this present moment before deciding that is likely a good thing. Gojou does not need to meet your personal circle of friends.

"I'm bored," Gojou whines, lazily trailing behind you. "What's the point of doing this if we already know they're throwing us a party?"

My thoughts exactly, you huff. You pointedly ignore the fact that you've been completely fine with the arrangement prior to it being your turn. Birthday party set up is a different ordeal. There's usually plenty to keep you both separated from one another. "Take it up with, Fujioka-sensei and Yaga-sensei," you sigh, as you try to find something that can make time go faster. Your stomach growls and you bite your bottom lip in irritation. I shouldn't have skipped breakfast. But in their haste to boot you and Gojou out of the dorms, you forgot to grab something.

Gojou you could understand. But why you?

He's the one who shakes boxes of presents even if they're his.

You're as a mild-mannered as they come.

"Screw walking around, we might as well just find somewhere to eat," you look over your shoulder at the boy and he shrugs back, fine with the change of plans. "I'm pretty sure there's a Johnny's somewhere close by." Even a hole-in-the-wall restaurant will do.

"What about over there?" Gojou nods his chin far at the first building that catches his eye.

"There?" You raise an incredulous brow, resting your hands on your hips. It's no Johnny's, it seems a bit more cutesy than that with its quaint brick walls and frosted windows. The Christmas decorations leave little to be desired. "I don't want to deal with Santa in my ear the whole time."

Gojou points over to the establishment again and you trail after his finger until he stops at a bright, cherry-red sign, "but there's a discount."

Discount?

Christmas Lovey-Dovey Special: Couple's Receive 50% Off!

You share a look for approximately three seconds before your hands are clasping one another with much enthusiasm as you practically skip to the restaurant in question. "You know, darling, you really do come up with the best ideas, sometimes," you beam, eyes practically sparkling. If there is one thing people love universally whether rich or poor, it's a damn discount. And if holding hands and acting lovey dovey with Gojou means getting half off on a random discount for breakfast, you'll fold faster than Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice.

"Only sometimes?" Gojou croons and you're sure he's fluttering his eyelashes. "I'm pretty sure you mean all the time, cupcake."

Don't push it, your eyes narrow.

You get a shit-eating grin in return. "Table for two please," Gojou holds up two fingers with his free hand as you approach the doors, just as a hostess passes by. "We're just celebrating our birthdays!"

"He's December 7th," you point over to Gojou with a dreamy sigh.

"She's December 9th," Gojou nudges you lightly with a grin. "We're soulmates, it's pretty much a sign we were born for each other. Celebrating on the 8th is a happy medium, right, honey?"

"Satoru, please," your grip on his hand tightens in warning as you chuckle sheepishly. You're being too extra, dumbass. Gojou grins despite that, squeezing back just as hard but twice as obnoxious. "You're embarrassing me. She doesn't want to hear all of that sappy stuff. Don't indulge him, he's just in a good mood because we're partying with our friends later."

The hostess, bless her heart, takes Gojou's excessiveness in stride. She definitely doesn't get paid enough to deal with your antics. "What a sweet coincidence," she smiles politely. "Follow me right this way," she says before leading you to a table not too far away by a window. She's tired of dealing with couples, you hold back a look of pity. May her shift almost be over.

Within seconds of looking at the menu, you already know what you want to order. "I'm getting the drunken udon," you tell Gojou unnecessarily. "And the grapefruit juice. It's got grapefruit chunks in it."

Gojou doesn't even attempt to hide his disgust. When it came to fruit, grapefruit is the only he hates the most. You weren't fond of grapefruit when you were younger, but in the past 6 months you developed a taste for it when you realized it was the one drink in the dorm fridge Gojou doesn't touch. It's not that bad once you get used to. "Right, I forgot you and Utahime hate sweets," Gojou clicks his tongue, unimpressed. "You have boring taste buds. At least look at the special menu before getting something this place serves all the time." He points at a sickeningly pink strawberry soda too large for one person and two heart-shaped straws. "We should get this one instead. And the waffles."

"I like sweets, I just don't wanna taste the diabetes when I consume it," you argue back. You even love strawberries. You just know that the amount of sugar in that drink is likely enough to put a caveman in a coma. There's sweet and then there's the unnatural abominations that Gojou eats on a regular. What's scarier is that his justification is that it helps fuel his brain power or something dumb like that. You're pretty sure he ripped the idea straight out of a manga and is hoping no one notices. "You drink most of it then if we get it. Talk shit about my udon all you want, I'm still ordering it."

"We're getting it," Gojou replies promptly, no room left for argument. Whatever, there's grapefruit juice back in the dorms.

I'm grabbing a water just in case then.

The water is a godsend five minutes later when you are able to confirm that the Lovers' Strawberry Cloud does, in fact, have enough sugar to put a caveman in a coma. One sip and you regretted all of your life choices that led you to this very moment. "You finish it," you mutter after gulping half of your icy water down.

He's so happy about it, you're sure this was planned from the start.

Thankfully, your food arrives not too long afterward. The only real hiccup about the customer service is the waiter giving you the wrong plates. "Here you go," his lips curled upwards gently as he placed Gojou's waffles by your hands. It's only when he tries to give your udon to Gojou that the birthday boy in question stopped the motion with a lazy hand.

"The waffles are mine, actually," Gojou deadpans, passing your plate in your direction with one hand. With a clumsy sputter, the issue is resolved in seconds and your respective meals are placed in front of the right person.

You grimace, holding back a gag of frustration when Gojou wastes no time is shoving his food down his throat. Ravenously as he eats, somehow his cheeks stay clear of sticky mess coating them. Of course, Gojou even eats pretty. You're a hater, but you can give credit where credit is due. Gojou Satoru is, objectively speaking, very pretty. To be honest, all of your classmates are hot. It's almost unfunny how there isn't one average person in their ranks, yourself included of course. Gojou is just the only classmate that's this annoying about it. It's such an insult that someone with such a shitty attitude is this pretty. Where's Utahime to rant and groan with when you need her?

When your stomach growls again, you shake your head. Eat first, hate later.

You relish the taste with an enthusiastic moan. Drunken udon is the absolute best.

"Give me a bite?"

You blink once,

twice.

"No," you look at the white-haired sorcerer like he's grown a second head. "Gojou, drunken udon has chili in it." And yet in spite of your explanation, the prodigal son of the Gojou Clan still leans over enthusiastically, mouth wide open expectantly. "Yeah, I'm not letting you eat this," you snort before taking another bite of your meal. The texture of the noodles and the bell paper, the blend of the chili and garlic. It really is heaven in every bite.

"Some girlfriend you are, you don't even care that I'm starving," apparently the lovey dovey waffle platter on the table means nothing to him. There's a pause and he must have glanced down at his plate because a moment later he added, "this means nothing."

You roll your eyes, "hey genius, a true girlfriend that cares about you won't let you eat something she knows you don't like."

"But [First]," he groans.

"Why do you even want this this, you can't even handle curry that's barely above mild!"

"You're making it look good!"

"Because it is," you reply like it's obvious. For anyone who likes spice, drunken udon is delicious. "Gojou, no," you barely stifle your snickers as you remember the day you were reminded that Gojou and spice weren't compatible in the slightest. All it took was one bite into a hot cheetoh he stole from a box of snacks your parents mailed to you for a small taste of home to send him into a coughing fit so bad you almost felt bad for the guy. "You can't handle the hot cheetohs my parents send. I really don't know what to tell you other than you are not built like that, please stop."

"First of all, I don't know what you're talking about," you shake your head with a sigh as the argument continues. How someone could be this persistent to eat something their stomach can't handle, you don't know. "And second, since then I've become a man." That was literally two weeks ago.

You shrug with a sigh, "if you really want it then." You did your part in warning him, the rest is on Gojou. With a whispered 'yes!' that was far too smug, Gojou opened his mouth expectantly once more and you finally relented in feeding him.

One second.

Two seconds-

That's all it takes before Gojou's face contorts in pain and displeasure.

"Geez, how you can eat this kind of stuff, you can't even taste it over the spice!" Wordlessly, you set down your chopsticks to pass over a napkin and watch as he spits the noodley mush into it. The amusement from watching Gojou fan his tongue and lips like they're on fire is indescribable. "Why would you let me eat this?!" If you were worried about sharing the much-too-sugary couple's drink beforehand, you don't anymore as your classmate makes quick work of ingesting it.

"You said your tastebuds had gotten stronger since the last time."

"And you trusted me?!" Gojou's sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose to show wide blue eyes in disbelief.

"I didn't," there are a few giggles from the table to your right and you have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from joining them. Your 'boyfriend' just looks at you in utter disbelief and betrayal, rambling on and on about his woes. "Oh stop being a baby, you spat it out so you'll be fine now. Here," you reach over to grab his fork, lifting a piece of whipped cream covered waffle with a thin slice of strawberry to boot. "Heal with the power of sugar." Grumbling all the while, your boyfriend of the hour clamped his mouth down on the goods. "Better?"

When you get another mumble but no complaints, you decide that's a 'yes' and go back to your own food. "Just try not to overdo it with the sweets. We still have cake and ice cream later." You love whipped cream on waffles as much as the next person, but the amount on Gojou's plate is unholy.

"This is better than the hellfire you call food anyway," your eyes roll but your mood is surprisingly at a high. Not even Gojou and his dramatics can spoil a meal, it seems. You also can't deny that knowing he won't be touching your udon the rest of your time there also lifts your spirits. "This is the perfect amount of sweet. The perfect amount of anything," your eyes dart between the whipped cream and your classmate, deadpan disbelief all over your face. "I'm serious. The strawberries aren't sweet so it all works out." When the disbelief doesn't leave your face, Gojou points his fork in your direction. "Try it."

Reluctant, you lean over to take a tentative bite. Oh.

You blink and make a noise of pleasant surprise. The tartness of the strawberries really balanced out the sweetness of the whipped cream. "Not bad," you lick the leftover whipped cream on your lips as Gojou continues gorging himself. From the corner of your eye, you see the people a table away giggling and whispering at your exchange.

You must be selling the couple's bit quite well.

"People in this country really make a big deal of indirect kisses," you say quietly enough for the two of you, returning to your own spicy goodness. "I didn't even know what they were when I moved here. I shared food and drinks like this all the time back home." Cousins, friends and other neighborhood kids that dance across your memories over the seasons from soda to ice cream to fruit. That came to a crashing halt when, during an after school heist at a burger joint, you nearly died drinking lychee soda and angled the straw for your friend Hide to try. Then everyone kept on making jokes about us being a thing and it started getting too awkward to hang around each other because he thought I had a crush on him. Food sharing politics were different from country to country, what a twist. "I guess that's a piece of culture shock no one ever really tells you about when you move to a new country."

Gojou shrugs at your nonchalant observations, "it's not a big deal for me. I just eat what I want."

"That's because you're a food thief."

Another shrug, a lack of denial. Details, details. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you continue eating.

This isn't so bad actually, you look out the window, watching as passersby make their own ways to their destinations. Living out their lives while you're some random extra eating drunken udon in a window.

To them, you're not [Full Name], you're just a random face they won't remember if they'll even see you in the first place. It's feelings like that fills you melancholy and fascination. No curses, no sorcerers and no Jujutsu Jesus. You wonder briefly if Gojou ever has such thoughts. To one part of the world he's the one who changed its very balance. To another part, he's just some guy. Just some random guy who happens to have a penchant for wearing sunglasses indoors. If it ever looms over his mind, you can't tell nor are you close enough you think he'd tell you. Maybe he tells Suguru or something. You see a flash of white and red in your peripheral vision and when you look, there's another mouthful of waffle in your face. This is such a weird combination of food, yet you take another bite anyway. You raise a few noodles of your own and mumble over a mouthful, "want another bite of mine?"

"Yeah no, I'm good," the white-haired sorcerer replies without missing any beats and you snicker. You wonder how much time will pass before he decides to test his luck with spice all over again. You have no doubt it won't take long.

A temporary truce between Gojou and the We Hate Gojou Alliance and on your birthday of all days. Well, almost your birthday. The small day set between you both to encapsulate both. Apparently, when his obnoxious levels and extreme lack of respect is dialed down to a 2, Gojou is a lot more tolerable than usual. Talk about a birthday surprise.

The rest of your lunch is eaten in relative silence but it isn't uncomfortable, you decide as you stuff yourself with a mixture of savory and sweet. Gojou tops off the last of the waffles with a satisfied with stretch of his arms before you split the bill. Good gods, I love a discount, you sigh in satisfaction as you finally make your way to leave. "We should probably start heading back to the school right?" It shouldn't take that long to set up a party. There's only one cake. "We probably have a few hours until they're done with the cake and setting up decorations."

"Might as well walk off all the calories so there's room for later," he shrugs and he's about to put his hands in his pocket before opting to grab your hand. "Let's go pet Hachiko or something."

Off to Shibuya you go then.

The grand finale of your pretending to be a couple is nothing special. You simply walk out the door, matching smiles on your faces as you pass by the staff.

When you finally exit the building, you shudder at the cold autumn wind that hit your face. Your hand tightens around Gojou's, clutching for warmth instinctively. Of course his hands are permanently warm. "What are you, a furnace?" Gojou grins smugly when you lift your intertwined hands, scrutinizing his with a squint somewhere between envy and curiosity. He has nice hands, you note. They're soft, but not so unbelievably soft you would think he was some civilian. His palms are a touch coarse, but nothing uncomfortable to hold, with no scars or blemishes to be seen. Must be the perk of utilizing Limitless at his leisure. "Why do you get to be blessed with warm hands?"

"Maybe the universe just likes me more," he replies with ease.

Considering his future is the one that's boring and yours is the one marked with death, that must truly be the case.

"Must be."

Happy Birthday to us.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

If you're wondering what you got for your birthday: Shoko and Utahime both tipped in to get you a Yamashita Tatsuro CD. Mei Mei just tossed over a gift card and called it a day. Suguru thoughtfully got you a book next in the line of a series you're fond of. And Gojou? Well, you got to be in his presence and it was actually tolerable. Congratulations?

[wellwhatisnttaken]

Through Miles of Clouded Hell

Part 4

——————————

It was Eris who saw them off. Lucien and Jurian had agreed that quietly departing before dawn would be the best option to avoid fanfare and to get an early start on the journey. The King and his Captain were just tightening the bridles on their mares, and making final checks, when his brother came around the corner. There was Eris, fiery red hair framed by the hint of dawn on the horizon. Despite the cold chill to the air, and the blanket on his lap, sweat beaded on his brow as he kept wheeling forward in his rickety wheelchair. Lucien rushed to him.

“Eris what in the mothers name are you doing? You pushed yourself all the way out here? You could’ve fallen or caught a sickness, here” Lucien pulled a hanker chief from his sleeve and dabbed at his brothers flushed face.

Eris clutched his wrist to stop him.

“What sort of interim king would I be if i didnt see my favorite subjects off?”

Eris was joking, as always, but Lucien could see the toll of his brothers journey from the castle on his face and hands which were both now red, raw and slick from exertion. Lucien took a knee in front of his brothers chair.

“Eris you didn’t have to come. I know how hard simple trips are, you didn’t have to come all the way out to the stables before the mother Is awake to see us off” Lucien met his brothers eyes. Out of all seven brothers, only Eris and Lucien had the same colored eyes.

“I needed to tell you. As rulers of this land we are connected to it” Eris explained, just as he had when Lucien was a boy,

“And the curse on this land has killed our father, not a terrible loss to be sure, but it has also killed our mother”

“Shes not dead quite yet”

“and all of our brothers. I have only held on this long because i am a stubborn bastard who refuses to die. And you, little brother,” Eris put a chapped hand on Lucien’s cheek,

“You are the last one left. So go. Find this goddess, and restore the life to your kingdom. Not for me. Your old crone of a brother has little fight left in him. But for you, for your future children. Don’t let this darkness extinguish your light. You are the brightest of us.” Eris would deny it to hood grave, but Lucien swore he saw tears bubbling up at the corners of his brothers eyes. However, he was not so reserved, and leaned into Eris’s torso, as his brother wrapped his arms around him for what might be the final time. After a long moment, a cough came from the corner of the stables. Jurian was sat awkwardly on his horse looking entirely ready to leave.

“Yes Yes Jurian, im coming, by the mother!” Lucien stood and went to mount his horse.

He gave one last look to his brother.

“Will you get back ok?”

“Oh don’t worry about me little fox, ive been traipsing around these grounds since before you were born.”

The last thing he saw was Eris’s smug smirk as the king and his captain turned and began their journey.

————————

I realize that i didnt explain why eris was on crutches in the last part, so here’s a little interlude to explain that. Next part will dive straight into their journey. They’ll encounter some familiar faces, unexpected challenges and perhaps a few hostile bats.

And we’ll catch up with the resident life bringer!

Let me know If you have any constructive criticism! Also I’m sorry I’m so bad about tagging everyone 🥲

@krem-has-a-mess @iftheshoef1tz @separatist-apologist @ramim @vulpes-fennec @sanfangirl @asnowfern @yourethehero

I made and pinned a master post of all the parts so far so check that out if you need to catch up!

[bilvy]

this dude turns thirty today !

[intothemultifandom]

– 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 || 𝐛𝐞𝐧 + 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬

SUMMARY: The thing about Klaus Hargeeves and the titles he had was that, for all the bad and bloodied ones he’d accumulated over his weirdly-long-but-should-have-been-shorter lifetime– nothing hurt more than becoming a stranger. PAIRINGS: Klaus x Reader (Platonic), Sparrow!Reader x Sparrow!Ben (Romance), Past!Reader x Umbrella!Ben (Romance), Klaus x Reader x Ben TAGS/WARNINGS: angst ; romance

Klaus Hargeeves had accumulated more than his fair share of titles over the course of his weirdly-long-but-should-have-been-shorter lifetime.

Before the first Apocalypse, he’d been Klaus: Number Four. The Séance. Family fuck-up and resident weirdo.

When he’d ended up smack-dab in the middle of the Vietnam war, the list only grew from there: Private Hargreeves. Soldier. Murderer.

The titles were no less bloody than his first few, and maybe if he’d saved Dave the additions might’ve been an easier pill to swallow.

But Klaus lost Dave anyway and though he wasn’t into the swallowing business nowadays (of pills, that is), the dog tags he wore beneath his torn shirt were a bitter reminder that death and misery would follow him always.

Even after leaving The Umbrella Academy. 

When he and his family failed to save the world the first time (which, according to a very snappish Five, was not technically the first time; very tensed up man-child, mind you)–Klaus, as always, did what he did best.

He accepted the cards he’d been dealt with, and he settled.

And for the most part, things were okay. Delightful, even.

Amongst his Cult, he’d been a Messiah. God. 

As if God wasn’t already fucked up for putting him through all the shit he’d been through, Klaus accepted the monicker with a grain of salt and revelled in the false sense of security it gave him.

So long as he was God, nothing would touch him or his people. 

Because, for all that Klaus was unlucky, for all that he was unfortunate when it came to too-bloody-titles and titles that were false in every way, somehow he’d ended up in 1960 with not only Ben, but with you, too. 

From 1960 to 1962, the years you shared together–you, consoling him first after an argument with Ben before astral projecting yourself between worlds to coax your boyfriend back; Ben, always disagreeing with anything to do with Destiny’s Children until you’d concede sweetly in turn; and him, teasing Ben mercilessly for making him a third-wheel but purposely making him more tangible so his love-struck brother could rest his head above your heart–reminded Klaus of the only good titles he had alongside his name. 

To the world (old and new), Klaus Hargreeves was known as many things.  Weird things. Bloody things. But to Ben, his Benirrino, Klaus was his brother. 

He could be overwhelming to a fault, he knew, but Ben–angry, bitter and emo Benny boy– loved him all the same. And Klaus would’ve died a happy bastard knowing he had at least one sibling with him 60 years in the past. 

With you, [N/N], Klaus didn’t quite know why you’d stuck with him after Ben had died in the original timeline. Until the epiphany came to him between nights you sought each other to grieve and days you went looking for a new high that he’d never had a best-friend before.

He might’ve been responsible for half the stress you were constantly under, but you had accepted him anyways and always in the ways that mattered and for that, Klaus would make do with a sappy Ben if it meant having you there with him, too.  

After two glorious years of just being Ben’s playful brother and [Y/N]’s chaotic best-friend, Klaus thought he could well and truly live if he only ever had to answer to these two titles.

And then, Five re-appeared.

The rest of his family, too. 

And suddenly, the world was back on a timer. 

Klaus had to be Number Four again. Had to be The Séance, the Soldier.

If they wanted an edge over the Temps Time Commission, he had to bring out the whole shabam and play into everything Daddy-dearest ever wanted of him in order to do anything and return to a timeline where he was all these shitty titles (some shameful, some not) and then some.  

And while he could’ve done it, could’ve accepted the bitter reality-check like the good little Solider that he was–it became a little harder for Klaus to just settle with the cards he’d been dealt with when Ben dies saving Viktor. 

It becomes even worse when, just as the two of you are almost out, almost back-in-your-original timeline, you decide to shield Allison during a barrage of gunfire. 

Klaus had seen you first amidst the chaos–eyes wide, hands trembling–and had cheered in a moment of drunken stupor before Five called your name.  Had called for you as though he couldn’t see you even though you were standing right there...

He barely manages to process what’s happened and the fact he’s lost his brother and best-friend all in one sweep (He sees Dave in the distance, and blood roars in his ears) before Viktor’s at his side, gently holding onto his hand with the echo of grief in his eyes as Five opens the briefcase. 

The last image he sees of 1962 is the small, sad, smile of your apparition as he falls forward in time and into a world that spits at everything he ever was. 

Because there, in 2019, is Ben. 

Alive. Breathing. Whole. 

“Dad, who are these assholes?” his brother’s voice echoes through the long room, Klaus’ stomach lurching as Ben considers them without a hint of recognition. 

His heart swells and the breaks again because with that question, his brother dies again.

“Come on Ben, play nice...” To the collective surprise and horror mounting amongst his family, your gentle voice cuts through the air as you step out from behind his brother to place a hand on his shoulder. 

Flushed and lively despite being dead only a few moments prior–he’s not the only one disoriented seeing you in front of them. 

“But he does have a point,” you continue onward, uncaring of the sharp breath Allison takes (your blood is still splattered on her face) or the way Diego’s eyes dart between you and Ben; side by side, even in another life.

“Who are you and why are you here?” 

[pipers-pit]

REMEMBERED.

Warning: pure angst <3 Author's note: Please enjoy! :D

Summary: you are now staying at Mark's home and have a remembrance of the past after seeing something you didn't know you still owned.

Word Count: 1,438.

Tag List: @selfshippinglover

Previous Chapters: Chapter one (link) Chapter two (link). Chapter four (link).

You sat on the couch with a more somber expression against your features. It only had been a couple of days since Mark took you from that dreadful prison of a manor, and to say life has been hard to process is an understatement. You never could comprehend just how long it had been, and to say mark took notice quickly was an understatement. He took you to his new home, which was insignificant compared to the grand manor he once stayed in with pure extravagance.

“You okay there?”

Your mind was snapped back towards the present as you looked towards mark, the saddened grin taking over knowing you were not paying attention took over. “Still thinking over it all aren’t you? It is okay to do so.” Mark was acting comforting compared to how you remembered him being described. He had not shown a darkened glare since he helped you, but to say you had your guard up was a problem you never could shake even if you begged the damned to do so.

“I am sorry... just still not used to- “

“Why do you keep apologizing to me? I know its wrong to tell you, but God it is as annoying to hear as the sound of a cat’s claws against a chalkboard.” Mark almost regretted his words when he saw you look down towards your lap, the softened sigh escaping his lips as he stood up. He walked into his kitchen with a small quickness in his step. It was not the most extraordinary place, but he was living as comfortably as he wanted. He opened the fridge and grasped a bottle of water, soon turning and heading back towards you as he sat the plastic bottle into your lap.

 “I do not mean to be so harsh on your old friend, I know the traumatics of that place may have hurt you in ways I may not remember, but I wish you would give yourself the proper understanding that you are not a weakened follower to me... we are. He hesitated, the course of his mind yelling at him due to the fact he was lying forever through his teeth as he spoke to you. “.. we are friends.” He gave a smile he did not want to give, but it almost felt necessary in this situation. “Anyways, we have a big day tomorrow, so I’m going to head to bed, will you be alright?” The second he saw you nod your head he smiled, soon standing up as he turned, not muttering out another word to you as he headed to his own bedroom.

You watched him leave and almost felt the sadness you wanted to hide take over again. Your eyes could only see flashes of what happened to you in that manor. The sound of the gunshots, the screaming, and the death. You shook your head to rid of the thought of the final thing, and soon simply pulled out your wallet. You did not know or remember having the piece of ancient leather in your pocket, but it worked and lasted. Your hands soon opened it, and you almost froze seeing the photo in front of you.

It was a picture of you, mark, and ... Damien.

You almost scorned, but then the memories of what it was for entered your mind.

You were walking amongst the walkways of your university, a smile adorning your features and the laughter echoing in each other’s ears as you walked alongside Damien and Mark. You all had finished watching Mark act in the college drama’s play, and you simply were giggling at a part that Mark was annoyed you found funny. The actor scoffed as he had a towel around his neck, the man soon dabbing away the faint beads of sweat the cool evening did not help rid of.

“Can you stop?” “Oh, come on mark, let them laugh.”

Damien’s calming tone with subtle chuckles interlaced made your days always better back then. Damien patted your back as mark rolled his eyes, but when you saw a small grin take over you snickered. “I see a certain grin on an actor’s face!” your face beamed, and you almost gave a playful look when Mark shook his head and looked away, almost trying to hide his grin to keep his ego going, but the second you wrapped your arms around him and kept mumbling on how he needed to smile more, he finally chuckled and found a way to escape your grasps.

“You are such an annoying little lamb.”

He always called you that since you first met. You always followed the two and the ones they spent time together with like a golden retriever trying to get attention from their owner.

“Rather adorable one though, they practically hushed anyone who dared to interfere in the mighty mark’s parts...” Damien looked towards you two with a grin and felt a sense of comfortable happiness take over. He had found the ones he would stick to till his black hair turned into the same softened grey as many other older people.

You three jumped when you heard people yelling for you three, Mark almost turning and letting his ego take over. “May we help you?”

The man took a breath and gestured his and his friends’ cameras as they spoke, their bright grins and friendly faces not being uncommon in that time of night. “Mind if we take a picture for the school paper? We always hear of you three, may as well show the faces to the names.”

“I don’t kn- ““Let us do it!”

The two boys watched you with wide eyes and almost erupted in shocked laughter as you wrapped your arms around their shoulders, pulling them close as the cameras flashed.

Your smile stayed wide as you moved away from the two, looking over the pictures they gave as one handed you a polaroid to keep as they had one, they could use already. You did not hear the two speak between themselves as you stood there.

“We really found the lost boy in neverland.”

 “Oh, calm down mark, it’s not like they’re peter pan, he won’t stay that age forever...none of us will.” Damien paused as he gripped the bag he held. “We got our friendships, and we need to make sure to keep it that way...it is our lives to choose after all.”

Mark gave Damien a blank look and simply shrugged his words off, the smile on his face growing as he watched you run over. Him and Damien both looking over your shoulders to look at the memory they did not know would become an eternal trauma artifact.

You did not know the tears ran down your face till you saw the fabric of the blanket around you soon change from the touch of wetness from the stray tears. You let out a shaky sigh as you wiped the tear lines away. You were always so naïve back then. You always gave trust to people who did not need any sort of comfort. You looked towards the photo and stood once more, walking into the kitchen as you grabbed a pair of scissors, soon cutting the photo in half as the side with Damien fell to the counter and the side of you and mark simply was tucked back into your wallet. You felt an anger develop over you in ways you did not know it would. Your nails curled into your palms as you looked in the nearby mirror, the former cheery face soon being one adorned with the shortened stances of trauma and anger. You were used to hearing the voice, and it made you almost grit your teeth hearing it speak. But what it spoke almost made your heart skip a beat in nervousness.

Be ready little lamb, it is time for the war against the darkness to begin.

You will not be dealing with the coward of vengeance much longer.

I will make sure of it.

You felt strange comfort knowing the voice cared, yet you felt so tired. You turned and walked towards the couch you were once sitting.

However, the thing you did not see, was the figure of a man in the suit, watching and lurking in the shadows, almost waiting to know what was planned for the one they wanted to protect, yet abandoned, to the one who made their vengeance become driven. He soon turned and used his powers to disappear from the apartment. Your obliviousness only being a benefit as you drifted off to sleep.

[in-ky]

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one! 

Read previous chapters here!

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee

It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave. 

“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.” 

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”

“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”

You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.

“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you. 

You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh. 

“Where are you?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

“Off fucking the boss man?”

 “Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”

“Fucking slut.”

“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”

“This is ridiculous.’

“So you’re just running away?”

“Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You are so in for it when you get home.”

“I should have killed you.”

There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant. 

“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.” 

 He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.

You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

 “Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.

“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.  

“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up. 

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone. 

“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.

“Hotch--” 

 “Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face. 

“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”

“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked

“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”

“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” 

“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly. 

“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted. 

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.” 

“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion. 

“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”

Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall. 

“Come in,” you called.

“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” 

“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little. 

“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.

“Hotch…” You responded softly. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.

“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”

“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. 

“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.” 

“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.

“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.” 

“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.

“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly. 

“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.

“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered. 

“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up. 

“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.

“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded. 

“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you. 

“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.

“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke. 

“Good point.” She chuckled. 

“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her. 

“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU. 

“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately. 

“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.  

“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.

“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him. 

“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you. 

“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh. 

“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs. 

“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”

Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.

There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes. 

You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again. 

“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out. 

“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay. Your hand--”

“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen. 

“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer. 

“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head. 

“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it. 

“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles. 

“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it. 

“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you. 

“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?” 

“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?” 

‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly. 

“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m--”

“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?” 

“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.” 

“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”

“If you’re not up to it, we can--”

“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.” 

 The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest. 

“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”

“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist. 

“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up. 

“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle. 

“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile. 

“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.” 

Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.

You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment. 

“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly. 

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk. 

“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.

 “Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually.  At her pace, he reminded himself. 

“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats. 

“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile. 

“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly. 

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”

He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”

“Hotch, I’m---”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.” 

You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. 

[mcwriting]

it's just part of the job

This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff

><

You were exhausted, to be frank.

It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.

The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.

Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.

Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.

The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.

Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.

Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.

You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.

You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.

"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.

He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.

You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.

Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.

Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.

"Think I look good, eh?"

"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.

When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.

"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.

"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.

"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.

"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"

You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.

"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.

It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.

The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.

"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.

You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.

"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.

"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"

You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.

><

Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.

When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:

"It's just part of the job"

As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.

Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.

"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.

In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.

When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.

Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.

Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.

He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.

He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.

Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.

The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.

"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.

"It's okay. How did it go?"

"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."

"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.

"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.

You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.

"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.

"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.

"Good night, darling. I love you, too."

><

A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!

Thanks for reading!

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Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

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[taelme]

Too Much Time Together

genre: best-friends-to-lovers!au, childhood-friends-to-lovers!au, indie rock band member!Yuta, corporate worker!reader (fluff, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, a lot of pining from Yuta in the first half, frustrating office environment (jungwoo’s parents are really crazy in this) 

pairing/s: Yuta/Reader (I use fem pronouns for the reader), Jungwoo/Reader (for a solid portion of the story), ft some of the nct kids 

word count: 29k+ I wasn’t kidding when I said this was gna be long 

tw: misogyny in the work place, toxic behaviour in jungwoo & reader’s relationship, uhh there's like 1 f word in this HAHHA, mild swearing, they drink in this too  taglist: @infnteen​ (do let me know if u want to be tagged in my future stuff) 

a/n: hello!! this is something I had a lot of fun writing so I hope you guys enjoy it :) I too wanted to k*ss Yuta while I wrote this.... but yes. this is also based on the song ‘too much time together’ by san cisco! so u cld listen to that to get some of the vibes~ anyway, enjoy! happy Friday everyone...  read this on ao3

Seven in the evening. Your favourite time of the day.

When you were younger, you always thought your town was calmest during this time. When the sun had started to set and everything was just a mix of blues and greys. When the stars weren’t visible yet and you could see the faint pink of the clouds lingering in the sky. When the wind was just the right amount of cold and the roads were almost empty save for the few cyclists or family vans.

It wasn’t common in your town for people to work late. By 5 o’clock, you’d be able to hear the light clinking of cutlery and see the glow of warm light shining out from the houses and laughter echoing from diners in your street while you were on your way home, the occasional couple or dog-owner taking a walk around the neighbourhood.

But that wasn’t why you liked it so much.

“Oh my god, look at what my mom just sent me.”

Yuta struggled to contain his boisterous laughter, clutching his stomach as he shoved his phone in front of you, frankly not being bothered to line it up with your vision with how hard he was laughing.

Grabbing his wrist to pull his phone towards you, you squinted at his phone, raising the brightness level only to see a group photo taken with Yuta’s mom’s old film camera on the day of your very first soccer lesson, a sweaty, red-faced Yuta with his long hair sticking to his forehead like glue as he glared at you, who was kneeling in the front row with a bright smile on your face.

You couldn’t help yourself from laughing, cooing at the image, “We look like babies! Why are you even glaring at me like that?”

“It gets better, swipe to the next picture,” he sighed, bringing his palms up to dab at the tears forming in his eyes.

You did as he told, swiping only to see another film picture of you and Yuta taken on the same day, except this time, it was a rather furtively taken photo of the both of you in a McDonald's booth, with you holding out your ice cream towards Yuta, the next picture showing him now with your ice cream in his hands, smiling at you as though all wrongdoings were forgiven.

When you were just turning eight, your mom had decided to sign you and your cousin up for soccer classes. Though your cousin had quit after two lessons, Yuta was somewhat the reason you stayed. You didn’t like soccer that much, frankly. Well, not as much as Yuta did, at least.

What you liked about it was that seven in the evening was when soccer practices ended and your parents would bring you to hang out with each other, be it dinners at each other’s houses, or ice cream at McDonald’s, or picnics at the park.

The added bonus of the both of you living in the same apartment building was just something you always thought was fated, as if the universe was just conveniently helping you spend more time with your soon-to-be best friend.

In high school, seven was when Yuta would end soccer practice and show up at your apartment with his beaten-up second hand textbooks and dog-eared exercise books, taking his place in your room (usually on your bed) to study with you.

Most times, you’d start to doze off in the middle of quizzing each other, or you’d simply not be able to tolerate studying when it reached a certain time in the night, adjourning to your balcony to enjoy the quiet town and gentle breeze as you talked each other’s ears off about anything that was on your minds. It didn’t matter what you talked about; it could’ve been about a teacher you didn’t like or a movie you watched recently or ranting about the school’s soccer team. Sometimes, either of you would be too pissed off to talk that you’d just sit there in silence or argue with each other until you both got tired and decided to make-up, but that was what was so nice about it.

You could talk about anything with Yuta, you could be your truest self around him and you loved it. Puberty or not, it was almost like you’d had an agreement that together, you’d navigate all that your adolescence could possibly throw at you.

In college, Yuta and his friends started a band, (we’re experimenting with genres, he would always insist) and it seemed that he’d started to become someone not just admired by you (if you were to use a mild word to describe it) but by the majority of people in your school. As ridiculous as it seemed, it was true.

The lead guitarist of the band, his gigs were awfully crowded, swarms of students crowding around the stage of whatever venue they were playing, while you…  preferred to take a seat further away from the crowd.

Yuta didn’t mind, he knew you didn’t come for the music anyway.

That was your first year of college. Whenever the evenings rolled around, if you weren’t at Yuta’s gigs, you’d be meeting him after classes for dinner and late-night study sessions where he would stay in your dorm past curfew.

“People are talking about us, you know. They think we’re dating,” you would tell him, especially after you were approached too many times by Yuta’s fans who were desperate to hear you tell them Yuta was single and available. 

To which he would simply smile at you, no remorse whatsoever detected in his expression as a mere ‘oops’ would leave him. 

“What do you mean ‘oops’? It’s bad for you, you know. You’re ruining your chances at a relationship.” 

He would always giggle whenever you reminded him of that. 

“And yours too,” he sing-songed.

Looking back now, you figured you should’ve known Yuta meant what he said. Because in your second year of college, that was when Jungwoo had entered your life, and it was like everything had shifted.

It had happened like something out of a movie.

Jungwoo wasn’t your typical college student. He was the son of an (all too wealthy) conglomerate owner, with a perfect GPA even while doing a double degree in mechanical engineering and business administration, and a disposition accompanied with a certain gentle boyish charm that had won your friends and family over instantly, yourself included. The only person that wasn’t exactly ‘won over’, was your now best friend, Yuta.

Ironically enough, you’d met him at one of Yuta’s gigs.

Sat on the balcony of the bar their band was playing at this time, you were surprised to say the least when you’d felt a tap on your shoulder halfway through the band’s cover of ‘She moves in her own way’ (which Yuta would never admit was a song that made him think of you).

Turning to see your classmate from your English Literature module, Mark Lee, you almost didn’t notice the tall boy standing beside him dressed in a plain black t-shirt and cargo pants that looked just slightly too baggy to be his, long brown hair hanging over his eyes that he shook aside when greeting you with a nod.

“Yo, what are you doing here?” Mark asked incredulously, realisation washing over his features almost instantly after the sentence had left him, “Wait, nevermind, I think I know why. Yuta?”

You could only return a nod as a small burst of chuckles left you.

“Are you guys staying for the rest of the gig? There’s no one sitting here so we could share a table, I doubt anyone else here would be keen on sharing.”

Mark’s relief was all too obvious, nodding gratefully as he’d slumped into the seat next to you, his friend sitting down next to him and glancing between you and the drink you were holding.

Exchanging a look with his friend (who looked rather expectant, if you may add), Mark sputtered, pursing his lips and poorly containing his smile, “Oh, right. Not that he needs any introduction but this is Jungwoo. Jungwoo, this is Y/N.”

Raising your eyebrows, a tight-lipped smile on your face, you’d nodded, “Nice to meet you.”

If Jungwoo was surprised at how calm you were, he hadn’t shown it. He did a once-over at your appearance, from the loudly coloured sweater you were wearing to the ripped jeans adorning your legs, not to mention the accessories adorning your ears, neck and fingers, Jungwoo couldn’t understand why he was so drawn to you. Maybe it was the genuine smile you’d given him, he hadn’t been at the receiving end of those in a long while.

Truth be told, he just wasn’t used to seeing people react so calmly to his presence (especially since he’d been met with nothing but stares and gossipy whispers ever since he’d walked into this dingy place).

“Are you a Sophomore too?” you asked, running the pad of your finger in a circle on your glass absently, collecting the condensation only to rub it off on the piece of tissue next to your hand.

Jungwoo’s eyebrows perked up, nodding his head with a smile, “Yeah, I am. I’m quite sure I haven’t seen you around before, though.”

There was something delicate about the tone of his voice, a stark contrast to Mark’s harshly pronounced words and schoolboy slang that littered his speech.  

You had to stop yourself from wondering how he would sound saying your name.

“Me neither.”

Mark sighed, his leg bouncing along with the music, a small giggle leaving him as Donghyuck, the band’s lead singer, had muttered something unintelligible into the microphone after forgetting the lyrics.

“Is that a gin and tonic? Mind if I have some? I’m super thirsty,” Mark eyed your drink, Jungwoo’s attention unwavering as he continued to observe you while you entertained Mark.

“Sprite. But go wild,” you pushed the glass towards him, using your elbow to prop your head up on the table as you softly hummed along with the music, knowing almost all the lyrics having heard Yuta play them all too often.

“So, uh, what do you study?” you asked, leaning closer so you could hear his answer over the sound of Yuta’s too-loud guitar solo.

Mark seemed to be too eager to answer on behalf of Jungwoo, gulping down the sprite in his mouth with a wince, “Dude! He’s crazy. He’s doing a double degree.”

Mark beat at his chest (probably the after effects of chugging a carbonated drink), oblivious to the embarrassment that seemed to overwhelm Jungwoo, who had shook his head dismissively.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Mark’s just exaggerating,” Jungwoo seemed bashful, shaking his head as he looked down at Yuta’s band playing, wondering if he was hallucinating the way Yuta was practically glaring at him.

“So, you’re not doing a double degree?” your mouth curved into a smile, a teasing lilt to your tone as you raised your eyebrows at him.

Jungwoo’s lips parted, his hand coming up to run it through his hair, his bangs falling back lightly against his forehead.

“I- well, I mean. Yeah, I am,” he huffed, scrunching his nose up, “Mechanical Engineering and Business Administration.”

The words had seemed so foreign coming out of his mouth, as if you hadn’t expected such heavy majors from someone as unassuming as him.

How did Mark even get to know this guy?

“Wow… that’s… something. What are you planning on doing with that?”

Mark’s eyes went wide, looking at you almost incredulously.

“Wait, dude, you don’t know? Jungwoo’s dad—” Mark had been cut off halfway by Jungwoo clearing his throat loudly.

“It’s nothing impressive. Just an office job, you know?” A nervous laugh had left him, making Mark’s expression go blank, staring at Jungwoo as if to ask if he was seriously going to try to hide his background as if the whole population of your university (and maybe even the city) didn’t already know.

“Oh,” was all you could muster.

You were never one to be drawn to the life of nine-to-five office jobs, especially after hearing so many stories from your relatives and seniors about how ‘it’s not realistic to get a job you’re actually happy in and passionate about’. You guessed the ‘rational’ choice just didn’t seem appealing to you.

Mark had excused himself to go down to the bar and get another drink, leaving you and Jungwoo alone (much to Yuta’s dismay. The boy was finding himself rather annoyed at Jungwoo’s presence at your table. Especially since that meant you weren’t paying attention to his performance).

“You’re not getting a drink?” you asked, earning a shake of the head from him.

“Not really a fan of sprite,” he joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Not a fan of alcohol either?”

He nodded, a simple ‘yep’ leaving him.

“So are you just gonna like…” you fiddled with your straw absently, raising your volume as Lucas’ drumming had only gotten louder, Jungwoo leaning in slightly in an attempt to hear you better, “you know, start working at your uh, ‘office job’ after you graduate?”

He nodded, shrugging, “Yeah… my parents have already kind of discussed it with me.”

His parents… you swore you heard Mark mention something about his dad, yet something about Jungwoo’s tone (and the fact that it was only your first meeting) made it seem like it was too soon to ask.

“Is there something wrong?” Jungwoo hummed, seeming to have noticed the way your face fell at his words.

Quick to dismiss him, you shook your head, “No, it’s just… do you like it?”

Jungwoo’s breath hitched. It was a normal question, sure, but something about it seemed to trigger emotions in Jungwoo that he’d been trying hard to repress.

“Huh,” he breathed, a soft smile playing at his lips, “the mechanical engineering part, yeah. I really like it. But, the business administration… not so much.”

“Guess you can’t have the best of both worlds,” you shrugged, leaning back in your seat, almost diverting your attention back to the song the band was playing now before Jungwoo had cut in.

“What about you, then? Are you studying something you like?” he tilted his head at you, the soft gaze he was giving you only encouraging you to share more.  

Giving Jungwoo a shrug, you nodded, “I guess… I’m majoring in Human Resource Management and Journalism.”

Jungwoo hummed, nodding slowly as his lower lip stuck out slightly in a pout.

“What made you choose human resources?”

You shrugged, “I didn’t want to… honestly. But, you know, everyone’s telling me it pays better. And I’m pretty sure if I get a job at one of those big companies I'm basically set for... life. So, there’s that.”

Jungwoo nodded, a soft sigh leaving him.

“I totally get that…” he rested an elbow on the table, supporting his head on his palm, looking at you with an unreadable emotion to his gaze, “mind if I ask what it is that you really wanna do?”

You huffed, “Publishing.”

Jungwoo nodded, “That sounds interesting, why specifically publishing?”

You shrugged, “I really like it, the idea of being able to work with authors to get their work out, just… feels interesting to me, thinking about all the great stories that haven’t been discovered yet.”

The smile Jungwoo had given you accompanied with the look in his eyes had served to comfort you more than you knew you needed.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to find a job that gives you both stability and happiness.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left you, “Slim chance. Is that your plan?”

Jungwoo shrugged, a little giggle bubbling out from his lips, “I’d like it to be, but who knows how things will turn out. You know, with everyone telling me to make the ‘rational’ choice. Most people I know end up having to sacrifice one or the other.”

You gave him a smile, pleased by how it seemed that the both of you had some sort of similarity in your experiences and thoughts.  

You liked how positive Jungwoo was, most of all.

But like you said, you didn’t like making the rational choice.

Jungwoo was the perfect, rational choice on paper and from how he behaved when you met him. He was kind, funny, and he was gentle. Looking at him, you figured maybe the rational choice wasn’t so bad after all. So you made it.

You’d only found out later on that night from a very passive aggressive Yuta that Jungwoo was the heir to a corporation you’d only ever seen or heard about in the news.

Office life? He was practically born for it.

“Yuta?”

“What.”

“What do you wanna do in the future?”

Yuta snorted, “God, I don’t know. Why are you asking all of a sudden? Are you planning on switching majors or something?”

You shook your head, not knowing how to explain your thought process after your conversation with Jungwoo.

“Nah, I was just wondering, you know. Since I was talking to Jungwoo just now... sort of seemed kind of scary that we’re just supposed to decide what we wanna spend the next big chunk of our lives doing now, you know? Like, taking into consideration salaries and starting families and getting married and whatever,” you rambled off the top of your head, oblivious to the curious look Yuta was giving you.

“You talked about all that during my gig?”

Yuta wondered momentarily if he should stop letting you sit in for band practices to keep you in suspense.

“What were you doing with that Jungwoo guy, anyway?”

“Oh, do you know him?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “Do I know him? Shit, of course, I know him_._ The whole town knows about him. His dad’s the owner of Z Global Enterprises. I mean, I know I always say you live under a rock but I didn’t think it was actually true.”

You scoffed at him. You remember that night because it was the first of many of Yuta’s tirades against Jungwoo’s family. Not that you’d listened to him, anyway.

“What does the Z stand for anyway?”

Yuta huffed, spitting his words with unconcealed venom, “Zeus. Talk about a stupid name.”

You, on the contrary, had simply giggled, “Zeus? That’s funny. I can’t imagine someone as gentle as him living up to that kind of reputation.”

“Y/N,” he gave you a pointed look, “I’m warning you. You shouldn’t put it past him.”

You remember scoffing at him, so insistent that Jungwoo wasn’t all that bad.

“You don’t even know him. Why are you being such a hater?”

“I’m not being a… hater,” Yuta shrugged, “I just hate everyone around him. Well, except Mark.”

Maybe he really just hated the way Jungwoo had taken your attention away from his performance, or the fact that he’d never seen you so smitten with anyone in his life yet the sight of it annoyed him more than he would’ve expected it to. _Sure, Yuta was annoyed, definitely. _

And that wouldn’t have been an issue on normal terms, you and Yuta would just talk it out like always. But what was different about this time, was that he didn’t think he could tell you the reason behind his annoyance. Not when it all pointed back to wanting to be the one you were smiling and laughing at and being all smitten with—Yuta figured he’d better unpack those feelings first.

“Oh, right,” You added, “I can’t come for your next gig.”

Yuta wondered how you could mention that so casually, especially when it was so out of the ordinary for you to bail on him. You weren’t a very social person, _maybe it was a group project or something. _

“Which one?” Yuta asked, narrowing his eyes at you, hoping that his disappointment wasn’t too obvious.

“The one on Thursday evening.”

“Oh… why? Night class?”

You shook your head, a giddy smile on your face, “Jungwoo asked me out.”

Yuta shot you a look, a very skeptical look.

“You’re really gonna go out with him,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

You nodded, staring at your phone as you read your text from Jungwoo that had come in.

Kim Jungwoo   9:23pm -my schedule’s pretty packed usually, so my free time is mostly in the evenings, hope that’s alright with you :)- 9:23pm -anyway, was nice talking to you just now. see you on Thursday, y/n- 

When seven in the evening was no longer just protected time for you and Yuta, Yuta figured there was nothing else he could do than to support you.

“Fine. Whatever, enjoy your date.”

===

Twirling his pen in his hand for what seemed like the thousandth time as his leg bounced impatiently, Yuta glared at the clock, following the second-hand with his eyes, counting down for when the time for his lunch break would come.

Yuta had barely even noticed the customer that came in with a measly bouquet in her hands that definitely wasn't from this shop. He'd only snapped out of his trance staring at the clock when said uniform-clad girl slammed the bouquet down on the table accidentally (or not, now that Yuta was thinking about it), looking at Yuta with nothing but adoration on her face. She adjusted her uniform as she waited for his response, glancing out the glass doors at her group of friends who were waiting expectantly for her.

She was a regular here. 

"Yes?" he murmured as he ran his hand through his dark brown hair, one hand fiddling with his necklace as he carefully maneuvered his phone screen with his free hand, working on getting his cup pong aim perfect so he could beat you and your 2 measly cups left.  

“What do these flowers mean?" her voice held an expectant tone, which probably turned to annoyance once she realised Yuta really wasn’t paying attention.

Yuta glanced at the flowers, a crumpled looking small bouquet, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion because what am I a flower dictionary? He tilted his head to face the girl with his eyebrows raised.

"This isn't a tarot card reading, miss. Why don't you go ask the person who gave them to you?”

She scoffed, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, mostly at the fact that Yuta couldn’t tell that she was only here to see him.

"I mean, this is a flower shop, shouldn't you know?"

Yuta huffed, shrugging nonchalantly as he moved to pack up his things, disinterested in the conversation after having made his opinion on the flowers clear. Yuta’s phone chimed signalling a notification from you.

bestie 11:56am -how r u so good at this game :( - 11:57am - also im here wru- 11:57am -oh right i forgot u were working i'll just get us a seat first-

Yuta was about to punch out a reply on his phone when he heard a voice (and a rather annoyed one at that) snap him out of his daze.

“Hello?” the high school student’s voice was scratchy, taking on a rather impatient undertone.

Yuta, with his bag already slung over his shoulder, had mentally cheered when he saw his co-worker Doyoung walk into the store, bells jingling to alert the shop of his presence.

Yuta shot one more look at the girl who was still waiting for his answer before finally deciding to look closer at the flowers, noting that the flowers were lilacs, stock flowers and forget-me-nots. They all had something to do with love, if Yuta remembered what his grandfather told him correctly.

"I don't know. They look ugly. Maybe they hate you." Yuta told her with a sickly sweet smile before he left promptly, leaving Doyoung with a pat on his back, the keychains on his backpack jingling softly as he stepped out.

“Where’d you go before this?” Yuta asked you, nodding politely at the waiter as she served you two your food.

“I had work before this, idiot. I’m not that free,” you huffed.

Yuta feigned shock, giggling at the annoyed expression on your face as he’d sipped his coffee happily, “Right, forgot you were working with the almighty children of Zeus. How’s that going, anyway?”

You scrunched your nose up in distaste, biting into your burger angrily.

“It’s almost been four years, Yuta, stop pretending like you don’t know that. But it’s the same as always, nothing worth talking about.”

Yuta sighed, sarcasm laced in his tone, “Well, you sure sound happy.”

You shrugged, shifting in your seat to cross your legs, the pencil skirt you were wearing not doing much to aid your movement.

“I mean it’s not like it’s a bad job. I’m good at what I do, I like my office space, I’m getting a hell of a good pay—”

“I’m sure you and your boyfriend are practically drowning in money now,” you didn’t miss the way he’d pronounced boyfriend particularly harshly,

“Of course, you want some?” you teased, sticking out your tongue at him.

“Oh, speaking of which,” Yuta hummed, “the shop just got a new batch of chrysanthemums. Do you want some for your apartment?”

You really, really wanted to, but you knew the impending earful you would get from Jungwoo’s mom if you did. She always went on and on about the useless decor in your house.

Whatever, she doesn’t have a key to your shared apartment anyway. 

“Okay. I can drop by after work to get them.”

Yuta shook his head, “That’ll be too late. And plus, I have band practice tonight.”

Your smile had widened at the mention of band practice, as if only just noticing then the way Yuta was dressed, a flashy printed button down shirt and ripped jeans, with a multitude of accessories on him, not to mention the biker jacket hanging from the back of his seat. Oh, and his freshly dyed red hair. All part of his ‘rocker’ image.

You sighed, “Wish I could sit in… it’s been ages.”

Yuta shot you a look, a teasing smirk playing at his lips as he twirled his pasta around his fork slowly.

“Miss me that much?”

You rolled your eyes, a wistful sigh leaving you, “not so much you as the idea of doing something as mindless as listening to your band practice the same setlist fifty times.”

Rolling his eyes, Yuta couldn’t help the smile that lingered at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes like it used to.

Staring at you with an unplaceable emotion in his gaze, he watched as your attention was diverted by a text message from your department’s intern Jaehyun asking when you would be back from lunch, apparently needing help with a talent review you were working on together.

You wouldn’t have noticed, but as Yuta was looking at you, he thought of how much you’d grown since you started dating Jungwoo, hating how that feeling he’d gotten when he’d first seen the two of you together hadn’t disappeared.

Looking back at him, your eyebrows raised in question, suspicion raised by his silence.

“What?” you nodded your head at him, eyebrows furrowing as you brought your glass up to your lips to take a sip, glancing at the time on the watch Jungwoo had gifted you for your birthday as you did so.

You didn’t have much time left for lunch, you were supposed to meet Jaehyun to help him with preparing the Chairman’s speech for the next dinner to celebrate another amazing milestone the company had reached.

“Take a break,” he murmured, “you look tired.”

Your gaze softened at his words, something about the gentleness of his tone stirring a sense of comfort within you.

Clearing your throat softly, averting your gaze elsewhere, you nodded, “I know. I will.”

Changing the subject just as quickly, you’d asked Yuta how the band had been doing.

“Pretty well, actually. We’re gonna be in town for a while, since we don’t have any gigs out of town for now.”

“Really? That’s great,” you breathed, somehow relieved at the knowledge that Yuta was here not just temporarily, but for ‘a while’. You weren’t sure why the sound of that was enough to bring happiness to your heart. Maybe you didn’t realise how much you missed him. 

“Uh-huh,” he grinned, “we’ll be able to hang out more now. Remember how I told you Hendery left ‘cause he was migrating?”

You nodded.

“We found a replacement for him,” Yuta told you, awfully resembling a cat with the way he looked at you. The sight alone was enough to draw a smile from you as well.

“Who?”

His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, clicking his tongue at you.

“Guess!” he insisted, the smile returning to his face, eyes widening and eyebrows lifting.

You thought hard, laughing to yourself at the name that popped into your head.

“Taeil?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “C’mon, Taeil’s married. Think harder.”

You scoffed, trying to stifle your laughter, “What? Married men can’t be in a band?”

“Okay, fine. I’ll give you a clue. We both love him and he’s friends with Jungwoo too.”

Staring at him blankly, you did a quick run through of your list of mutual friends before your eyes widened in realisation, a soft gasp leaving you.

“Mark?” excitement was practically dripping from your tone, making Yuta scoff playfully at you, giving you a nod in affirmation.

“Uh-huh,” Yuta leant back in his seat, running his hand through his hair before folding his arms across his chest.

“He told me to ask you when you could meet up, kept saying he needed to introduce you to someone.”

You scrunch your nose up, “Not another Zeus employee hopeful, I hope.”

Yuta snickered, shaking his head, “Pretty sure it’s the girl he’s been seeing.”

Your eyes widened, “Alright, I’ll text him… Do you know if he’s met with Jungwoo recently?”

Yuta’s eyebrows lifted, an incredulous look in his gaze, “You’re asking me? You’re the one dating the guy… and plus, I don’t think Jungwoo’s met with any of his friends outside of the office in years…”

You sighed, “it’s not that bad… he still meets with Lucas sometimes…” you shrugged.

“Lucas’ birthday doesn’t count, we were all there.”

You brought a hand up to wave him off, “Whatever, he’s busy. I’ll just talk to him about it when he’s free.”

“You literally live together,” Yuta deadpanned, his statement going ignored by you who had chosen to think about Mark again.

Not that you would ever admit you avoided thinking about Jungwoo; you knew it was kind of overdue for you to have a proper talk with him, most of your conversations these days were all too brief and superficial to belong to a couple who were supposed to be on their path to marriage.

You slouched in your seat, an arm resting on the side of your chair as you propped your head up with your palm, excited at the thought of Mark joining Yuta’s band.

“That’s so cool… I always thought he’d make a good guitarist.”

Yuta never missed an opportunity to tease you.

“Not as good as me, of course, right?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help yourself from playing along.

“Yeah, yeah, totally.”

You didn’t bother to notice the silence that fell just momentarily between the both of you. The way Yuta looked, just the slightest of redness tinting his ears as he pretended he wasn’t flattered by the subtext of your sarcasm. You were almost reluctant to leave that little moment you were sharing with him, giddy smiles and warmth in your chest reminding you of how much you missed spending time with your best friend.

Yuta, however, was drawn back to reality first. His gaze flickering sharply to your phone as it began to buzz, the caller id spelling out Jaehyun’s name big and bold across your screen.

Knowing what that meant, your shoulders sank, Yuta receiving everything he needed to know from your expression alone.

Of course you felt bad, it was the first time you were able to meet with Yuta for months and now you couldn’t even enjoy that little time together. But what else was there left to do when you missed your best friend but your schedules hated each other? 

You opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry Yu—”

“It’s okay,” Yuta shook his head, a soft smile on his lips, “I understand. Work is work, love.”

You purse your lips, picking up your glass and downing whatever remained of your drink, already beginning to sling your purse around your arm and stand up.

“Put it on my tab—”

“It’s okay, I got it.”

You frowned, “Just put it on my tab.”

Yuta’s smile stayed unwavering, waving one hand as he used his other hand to wave you off, “You can get our next meal.”

Suppressing the happiness that bubbled in you at the thought of the next time you’d get to meet Yuta, you smiled, waving before you started your hectic journey back to the office.

===

With the gust of cold wind from the air conditioning that hit you when you passed through the equally harsh black marbled walls of the lobby, the only thought that was in your head was to quickly drop off the cookies you’d bought for Jungwoo on the way back to the office and figure out what Jaehyun was so urgently texting you about. None of which you assumed was going to be easy. 

Ignoring the way people were staring as you walked through the corridors to the lift lobby, you gripped the handles of the paper bag tighter in your fists, holding it behind your back as you waited for the lift numbers to reach the ground floor.

You’d barely noticed the tall figure next to you until you’d felt a sudden force of a hand on your shoulder, surprising you with a yelp. The tell-tale burst of laughter that followed was all you needed to know who was responsible.

“Not cool, Johnny.”

Calming down from his laughter, the said man gave you an innocent smile, “Couldn’t help myself. And plus, it’s fine, there’s no one else here.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, using your gaze to gesture to the other people at the lift lobby.

“Okay, fine. Correction, no one else I know here.”

You huffed, the elevator doors finally opening to let a few people out, some of whom you recognized to be from the legal department, knowing they were especially busy with the company President’s plans for an acquisition.

“Just had your lunch?” you asked, earning a satisfied sigh from him, who placed a hand over his stomach to rub at it.

“Uh-huh, ate with Jaehyun,” he murmured, “oh, hope you don’t mind that we used your office, by the way.”

Your lips parted, though you didn’t make any move to reprimand him. If anything, you were glad you still had a friend like Johnny in the office to remind you that not everyone here was a walking machine.

“It’s fine. Not like I don’t know you guys do that often, anyway.”

You didn’t miss the way Johnny’s lips pressed into a firm line, poorly stifling his sheepish smile.

Reaching your hand out between the two people standing in front of you and Johnny, you pressed the floor to Jungwoo’s office, not missing the way the people had turned to see who exactly was pressing the button to that floor, especially since the only thing on that floor was Jungwoo’s office and the rest of his team’s cubicles.

“Oh?” Johnny raised an eyebrow at you, making you roll your eyes, the smallest of embarrassed smiles lingering on your features as you trained your gaze to the bag in your hands.

“Thought i’d drop something off,” you lifted the bag to show him, his lips parting.

Johnny sighed wistfully, “That man does not deserve you,” he shook his head, gaze flickering to the floor number when the lift had dinged.

“That’s me. See you around, Y/N.”

You nodded in response, letting the elevator slowly filter out as you went higher and higher in the building, leaving just you alone in the elevator until you reached his floor.

The lift doors opened to reveal dark black marbled floors and an equally elegant-looking receptionist desk, someone you recognized to be Jungwoo’s secretary seated behind the desk typing furiously at their computer.

“Hey! What can I do for you?”

You greeted Chenle with a smile, “Is Jungwoo in? Wanted to drop something off.”

Chenle’s bright smile was unwavering, giving you a nod, his eyes quickly glancing over the bag in your hands.

“Food? Thank God, he refused to eat lunch today. Said he had no time.”

Your eyebrows knitted in worry, a small pout on your lips, “Can I leave it here? Is he busy with something?”

You missed the glint of mischief that flickered in Chenle’s eyes, seeing him shake his head, lifting one hand to gesture towards the tinted double doors of Jungwoo’s office.

“Head right in.”

Strangely feeling nervous, you missed the added murmur of ‘he needs it’ that came from Chenle.

Straightening out your blouse, you stalked towards Jungwoo’s office, pushing the heavy door open and scanning the room, your gaze landing on a figure seated on the sofa, laptop perched on one of his legs and the other hand draped over his stomach, snoring lightly with his head against the back of the sofa.

Chenle totally let you in on purpose. You knew about Jungwoo’s little ‘no guests during lunch’ rule.  

Carefully making your way to where he was, you were about to pick up the blanket from the recliner in the corner of the room when it seemed the rustling of your paper bag had woken him up.

Hearing him inhale sharply, your stare was wide-eyed as you looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights, watching Jungwoo’s head lift from the back of the sofa, blinking slowly at you before a small smile graced his features.

A hand coming up to loosen his tie, he ran a palm along the side of his hair in a lazy attempt to fix it.

“Surprise?” you uttered weakly, giving up on your light footsteps and walking over to the sofa, slumping down on the seat next to him with a sigh.

Jungwoo took in a deep breath, angling his body on the sofa to face you, bringing a hand up to rest his head against.

Something you’d noticed over the past year together with Jungwoo, the second year of his term as Vice-President of the company, was that you still managed to catch glimpses of the Jungwoo you’d fallen in love with once in a while. Such times were times like this, where he was still half-asleep, looking at you with a soft smile on his face.

“Bought you cookies,” you pushed the bag towards him, taking the liberty of opening the bag and feeding him a cookie, which he’d gratefully opened his mouth to accept in his tired daze.

“Thank you,” his voice was barely a whisper, knowing that it was too hoarse to go any louder at the moment.

However, the moment was gone as quickly as it came, his phone buzzing with a text message from his dad, the name reminding him of where he was, what he was doing (or maybe, what he should’ve been doing).

Immediately, he’d turned away from you, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie, scanning the screen of his laptop as if making sure nothing was lost in his slumber.

He cleared his throat again softly, not bothering to take his gaze off the screen as he spoke, his tone curt and clipped, the gentleness from before long gone.

“You should go.”

You frowned, there was the Jungwoo you’d grown used to seeing.  

Unsure if it was some sort of Yuta-possessed part of you, but you spoke before you could help yourself, “Can’t even spare me five minutes?”

Jungwoo seemed unfazed by your snarky tone, lifting his gaze from his laptop to cast an apathetic glance at his watch, “Your lunch break is already over. Go.”

You huffed, a small mutter of “whatever” leaving you as you began making your way out.

“Oh, Y/N?” he spoke, your eyes widening as you turned (a little too quickly than you’re proud to admit), hoping he would say something sweet to ease the sting of his harsh words.

“I’m not coming back for dinner, I’m having dinner with the directors.”

“Don’t drink more than you can handle,” you murmured, a grunt leaving him as you let the doors close behind you, stalking off before Chenle could ask any questions.

That night, when Jungwoo stumbled through the door to your apartment, rushing to the bathroom to hurl his stomach’s contents out, you bit your tongue and did what you supposed a good partner should’ve done. You sat with him, patting his back and giving him water when he needed.

“You could just… politely decline when the directors offer you drinks, you know?” you murmured once Jungwoo had showered and climbed into bed next to you, feeling him drape an arm around you to pull you close, your head against his neck.

“It’s not that easy,” he retorted, his thumb rubbing the skin over your ribs gently.

“They can’t force you to—”

“Yes, they can. Don’t push this, Y/N. We can talk about this another time. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

“Whatever.”

===

You checked the time. 7:06pm.

You let out a deep sigh as you rest your arms on your knees, legs propped up close to your chest as you let the wind blow your hair into disarray, shutting your eyes as you almost let yourself lie back onto the grass beneath you. Though you couldn’t bear to close your eyes, the sunset was just that pretty.

You weren’t sure when you first discovered this place, at a park next to a river just outside the city. As cheesy as it sounded, it was the only place in this city that reminded you of home. So, needless to say, you didn’t feel the need to tell anyone about it, not even Jungwoo. Only Yuta.

It wasn’t as quiet as home, there were families and couples having picnics and exercising or maybe even just cycling past you, not to mention how the sheer number of cars in the city sent the pollution going crazy, but you guessed you owed the beautiful colours in the sky to that (as messed up as it was).

The way the wind brushed through your hair and through your blazer, sending a shiver through you, you’d almost forgotten why you’d come here. Almost.

Jungwoo wasn’t coming home for dinner again, not after the little spat you had when you said you didn’t want to join his parents for dinner, not after the shitty day you had.

You were allowed that much, weren’t you? Just a quiet evening by yourself, away from the scrutiny of his mother’s eyes and the sharp words from his father. That was all you were asking for, yet he made it seem like you’d spit on his grandfather’s grave.

Your phone chimed, an incoming text from Jungwoo. It was then that you saw you had a text from Yuta as well, a picture of the sunset.

Kim Jungwoo 7:06pm  -when you’re done being childish, text my mom to apologize. I told her you weren’t feeling well.- 

Leaving his text message on read, you set your phone back down, prepared to screen the incoming call before you noticed the little emoticons next to the caller id.

“Hey,” you sighed, hearing Mark’s laughter accompanied by Johnny insistently trying to say something in the background (you swore you could hear Lucas shouting about something you weren’t able to make out).

“Guess what?” Yuta sounded excited.

“What?”

You didn’t think Yuta was perceptive enough to notice the hint of fatigue in your voice, but then again, you shouldn’t have underestimated the amount of attention he paid to you. Which was, well, a lot.

“What’s up with you?” Abrasive was what his tone would have sounded like to anyone else, but this was just how Yuta was.

You shook your head, one hand going next to you to pick at the long grass that was almost flattened by the wind.

“Yo, did you tell Y/N yet?” Mark asked, sounding awfully close to Yuta.

You took in a deep breath before speaking, “Nothing, just… kind of tired.”

Yuta frowned, holding a hand up to Mark as he excused himself from the restaurant, standing in the empty alley so he could hear you better.

“What happened? Work?” Yuta prompted, hearing you hum, not denying it but not affirming his suspicions either.

“You know what? It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it—”

“C’mon, don’t give me that shit. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You took in another deep breath, realising it had become almost instinctual for you to keep your burdens to yourself. It wasn’t like you had the privilege of time with your best friend recently, and it wasn’t like Jungwoo even let you talk about work things or just personal things in general for a while now.

“It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not specifically related to work or anything… just…”

“Trouble in paradise?” Yuta attempted to stifle his giggle, though you could practically hear his smile through the phone.

You rolled your eyes, “Do I even wanna know why you sound so happy about that?”

Yuta scoffed.

“Well, it’s not a secret that i’m not Jungwoo’s biggest fan. Anyway, what did he do this time?”

“This time? When you say it like that it makes it sound like he’s always upsetting me,” you frowned.

Yuta shrugged even though he knew you couldn’t see him.

“There is truth to that, though…” he paused when he hadn’t heard any response from you, “okay, forget what I said, now tell me what happened.”

You let out an annoyed groan, “You know how we have dinner with his parents pretty often, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, today… I don’t know, I just had a really tough day at work and I told him I didn’t feel up to going for dinner with them and he got really pissed off at me,” you shrugged, huffing as you recalled Jungwoo’s attitude.

“Pissed? Why? What’s there to get pissed over?” You could tell by his tone that Yuta was already annoyed, though you didn’t mind.

If you were being honest, It felt nice to have someone be angry with you (since everyone else you knew found Jungwoo absolutely flawless).

“That’s exactly my point. He kept talking about how it wasn’t ‘respectful to his mom’ or whatever, I really don’t care. It’s not like his mom even wants me there in the first place,” you scoffed, biting out your words bitterly.

Yuta sighed, “Never liked that woman.”

You couldn’t help the huff of laughter that left you, “You don’t like a lot of people.”

“Except you, of course,” he felt the need to add.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, sure. As if that’s important information right now.”

Yuta’s tone remained serious, not hesitating before giving his reply, “It is.”

It was pathetic, really, how less than 10 words from your best friend could make you feel better than the less than 10 word quota Jungwoo had for conversations when you were both together at home.  

A small pause ensued.

“Jungwoo’s an idiot.”

You clucked your tongue at Yuta’s words, not knowing that Yuta truly was angry at Jungwoo, but for a reason he couldn’t bring himself to explain to you, not with all the possible consequences that would follow.

“Don’t say that, Yu. He’s still my boyfriend.”

He scoffed, “Am I wrong? You know if this happened like five years ago you wouldn’t have reacted like this.”

You sighed, “Yeah? Then how would I have reacted?”

Yuta didn’t miss a beat.

“You would’ve bitched back at him. You should, in fact. I’m watching from an outside perspective but I should know best that you’re letting him get away with shit he shouldn’t be let off so easily for.”

You huffed, unsure why you were pursuing the topic, but a part of you knowing that it was because you’d just wanted Yuta to say what you were too afraid to.

“How do you know that?”

“Because if it was me doing what Jungwoo’s doing, you’d talk to me about it. Not… whatever you’re doing now.”

You let out a soft sigh, nodding even though you knew Yuta couldn’t see you.

“Anyway, what was the thing you called me for?”

Yuta let out a hum of confusion, “Oh, uh, it’s nothing actually… nothing important.”

It wasn’t like he could tell you now that his band was finally going to release the song he’d written (about you) from your college days. It didn’t feel appropriate, especially given your current situation.

“Nah just, wanted to ask if you wanted to get dinner on Thursday after my gig,” he lied, “that is, if you’re not working late.”

You hummed, going through your mental schedule as quickly as you could, “Thursday... yeah, Thursday sounds good.”

“Great.”

You huffed, the smallest of smiles playing at your lips, “Great,” you echoed.

“Should probably go, the guys are getting impatient…”

You’d be lying if you said you were a tad bit disappointed, but the promise of Thursday was enough to sustain you for the time being.

“Alright, see you—”

“Oh, and Y/N?” Yuta winced, regretting his slip of the tongue, panic washing over him.

“Yeah?”

_I missed you. _Yuta wanted to say, but he couldn’t. _Snap out of it! She has a boyfriend! (though albeit not a very good one). No, Yuta told himself, it wouldn’t be good. For him and for you. _

Yuta inhaled deeply.

“Get home safe.”

Your smile widened, nodding yet again, “Thanks, I will.”

When you’d gotten home, Jungwoo was already there, seated on the sofa in the living room, dressed in a plain shirt and sweatpants (evidently looking ready to go to sleep), a glass of water in front of him on the coffee table as he watched the news, casting you an unreadable glance when you’d entered the house, the sound of the automated lock echoing in the otherwise silent apartment.

No greetings were exchanged. You were still angry at him and he knew that. So you went into your bedroom first, setting all your things down as you took your blazer off, running a hand through your hair with a sigh.

Walking into the bathroom, you’d taken a long shower with the hope that the water would wash away the heaviness in your mind. Once you were done, you changed into your sleeping clothes and tossed your towel into the laundry basket, opening the door, the steam from your shower drifts out into the cold of your apartment, a shiver running through you as your skin met the cold air.

Walking out of the bathroom after washing your face and brushing your teeth, you’d gone to your little dresser in front of your bed, busying yourself with your skincare products as you ignored the sound of house slippers shuffling getting louder until a pair of arms had wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo’s chin resting gently on your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“You still mad?”

You frowned. He always did this. You could already predict how this would play out; you’d try to talk to him about it, he’d say ‘let’s not talk about it’ and ask you how he could make it up to you instead.

“Yes.” You shrugged his arms off though he didn’t seem to budge, so you carried on applying your skincare products, ignoring the way he was pressing kisses to your collarbones and your _oh-so-tense _shoulders.

“C’mon, what do you want me to do, hmm? How can I make it up to you?”

You thought back to what Yuta said, knowing he was right. You would’ve never let Jungwoo get away with what he was doing now if he’d done it when you’d first started dating.

“You can’t ‘make it up to me’. You flared up at me for no reason,” you huffed.

Jungwoo huffed, “Alright, alright, i’m sorry, okay? You know how my parents are...”

“Okay, now will you get off me?”

Jungwoo had let go of you in an instant, going back to the bed as if nothing had happened, getting under the covers and picking his ipad up again, as if you weren’t even there.

You let out a deep sigh.

You were a simple person, you would like to think. All you wanted was someone you could love and be comfortable around, someone you could have fun with, share your joys and struggles with. Someone who didn’t brush your feelings off, or make you feel like it was wrong to have bad days. Simple cuddle sessions where you could talk about your day without feeling like you’re walking on eggshells and avoiding the ‘wrong thing to say’.

“We should get married soon,” he murmured, as simple as if he were telling you what he had for breakfast.

Your heart sank.

Day by day, it was like you were growing to feel like Jungwoo just… wasn’t that someone for you.

“Huh?” was all you could manage, the unsettling feeling in your heart growing.

“You know,” Jungwoo shrugged, eyes never leaving his ipad, “my parents brought it up during dinner, and it’s true… we’re both getting older, it’s about time we start thinking about it… we could get our own house so we don’t have to rent this one anymore cause the landlord kind of sucks… we could go to work together since I won’t have a reason to hide our relationship, ‘cause i mean, if the public knows we’re married then we won’t really have to do that anymore…”

You couldn’t have been misreading it, those things had nothing to do with marriage. Well, at least, not to you.

“So you want to get married so things will be more convenient for you?”

Jungwoo’s eyebrows furrowed, as if wondering why you were getting angry.

He huffed, a small smile on his face, “Well, yeah. That’s part of it, isn’t it?”

Your frown deepened, “Part of it? It sounded like the only reason why you wanna get married.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve been together for ages, isn’t that enough of a reason?”

You let out a frustrated groan, getting up and facing him, only getting more angered at the sight of him lying on the bed with his ipad still in hand.

“Jungwoo—” you stopped yourself short, exasperated.

The boy you were looking at was definitely not the same boy you met in the bar that night during Yuta’s gig.

You brought your hands up to your face, wiping harshly at your eyes which were beginning to grow warm in your frustration.

Jungwoo frowned, getting out of bed and walking towards you, his hands finding their way to your face, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

His words did nothing to soothe you, not even when he’d cupped your face to press a kiss to your lips, pulling away and searching your expression as though that were supposed to rid you of your worries. You already knew what he was going to do, find a simple statement that was supposed to appease you so you wouldn’t pursue a fight with him.

You didn’t want to marry Jungwoo. 

“I think you’re stressed. Let’s just go to bed, alright?”

That night, you figured the less exhausting option was to just go to bed.

===

The bells hanging over the café door had jingled loudly when you entered, the warm lighting and multitude of plants and flowers within the little space putting a smile on your face, which had only widened when you spotted the boy in the far end of the café grinning at you.

“Yo,” he drawled, “Long time no see, dude!”

You wrinkled your nose as you laughed, seating yourself on the plush chair facing him, sighing as you let yourself melt into the velvet material, enjoying the change from the usual stiff office chair you were on for most of the day.

“Oh, damn, now I feel kind of underdressed,” Mark joked, making you roll your eyes.

“This is nothing. If anything, i’m the inappropriately dressed one at stupid z global.”

Mark raised an eyebrow at you, “Feels like there’s a storytime behind that.”

“A lot.”

Mark giggled, “Wanna order first?” He’d beckoned the waitress over, the both of you voicing your orders quickly in anticipation of the conversation you were about to have.

“So, you were saying? Stupid z global?”

“Everyone there dresses like they're in ‘Men in Black’. Isn’t it already enough that the building has no colour whatsoever? But they still feel the need to dress like they’re trying to blend in with the building,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, Johnny told me about that before,” Mark chuckled, “I’ve seen the building a couple times but never gone inside. Kind of curious to see what it looks like, though. I heard they got this famous architect to do the design.”

You shrugged, “Well, yeah, it looks nice, definitely. Really chic and modern and shit, but it feels horrible. It’s like walking into a box everyday. Or a spaceship.”

Mark giggled, “I would think spaceships are pretty cool.”

You shot him a patronizing smile, “I was going for suffocating but sure. If you wanna work in Zeus go ahead, i’d trade places with you anyday.”

“I’ll pass,” he wrinkled his nose, gladly receiving the drinks from the waitress and taking a sip as soon as it was in his hands, one hand pushing your glass towards you.

“You’re not getting anything to eat?” Concern was laced in Mark’s tone, and you almost felt bad, but it was true, you didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment.

You shook your head, “Nah, had a pretty big breakfast this morning. Don’t think I can stomach lunch before the stupid meeting later.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw that article about the Art Gallery opening, how’s that going?” Mark asked, pulling his plate of food towards him (trust him to get a burger in a place that specialised in their fancy pasta) and it was then that you were reminded just how ‘high profile’ Zeus Global Enterprises was, for everyone in the city to be sent scrambling with the company’s every move.

“Yeah, that’s actually what the meeting later’s for. Honestly, just… kind of been dreading going to work these days. We’ve got a few meetings coming up for the opening of the Art Gallery since we need to prepare for the exhibition and all that, and that means dinners as well, and I don’t know… I’m just… not looking forward to being in that setting.”

Mark scrunched his nose up. He saw enough on the news and heard enough from Yuta to understand your sentiments.

“The meetings or the dinners?”

A huff of laughter escaped you, taking another sip from your glass as you used the pad of your index finger to draw shapes in the little droplets of condensation building.

“Both,” you huffed, a sheepish laugh leaving you.

“You’ll be the emcee for the dinner, right?”

You nodded.

“Just focus on that, then. Don’t pay attention to the rest of them, it’ll only piss you off more.”

“That’s very true,” you laughed, “honestly, I'm just glad I get to prepare the speeches and newsletters and everything. At least it makes me feel like i’m doing some sort of writing.”

Mark’s eyes lit up.

“That reminded me, I keep telling Yuta, my friend would absolutely love you.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him, not having expected his ears to grow red and his smile to turn bashful as he mentioned said friend.

“Who?” you prompted, his smile causing your lips to curve into a small smile of your own.

“She’s uh… this girl I met—”

“Girlfriend?” you teased, Mark’s reaction only proving your suspicions of him having fond feelings for her.

He dismissed your teasing smile with a wave, shaking his head, “She’s editor-in-chief at this publishing company I signed with recently. I told her about you, and showed her some of your stuff, she’d love to have you in her company.”

You grimaced, leaning your head back with a groan, “Don’t tempt me, Mark.”

Mark giggled, shaking his head at you, “Seriously, though. It’s a good company, and the work culture there is nothing like Zeus. She really likes you… said to just let her know if you’re willing and she’ll take care of everything.”

You shot him a look, letting him tell you more about the pay and the job, each word of his leaving you more and more on your toes, feeling as though you were a runner at the start line, simply waiting for the gunshot to go off.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

Mark grinned, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

A small silence ensued, Mark was absolutely itching to ask how things were between you and Jungwoo. Especially since he’d overheard the phone conversation you had with Yuta when you fought with Jungwoo the other day. But Mark’s motive in wanting to know was a little different, a little different because he knew the meaning behind the song they’d just released.

As if you read his mind, you straightened up in your seat, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Hey, anyway, I heard someone’s the new guitarist for the band?”

Mark flushed, nodding.

“You’re doing really well! You have no idea how excited I was when I saw that you guys released the studio version of ‘Too Much Time Together’,” you gushed.

Mark’s eyes widened, “You… you like that song?”

You nodded with a smile, sipping your drink with pure nonchalance written on your features, “Uh-huh, it’s one of my favourites, actually. On second thought, maybe it is my favourite. Really gotta thank whoever Yuta was crushing on back in the day ‘cause without them I wouldn’t have the song.”

Mark sputtered, his reaction eliciting a raised eyebrow from you, though he was quick to brush it off, choking out a, “Went down the wrong pipe.”

“You guys have a gig on Thursday, right?” you asked, earning a nod from him, his eyes lighting up as he gave you a smile.

“Are you coming? Please tell me you’re coming. It’s nice having a familiar face in the crowd.”

You scoffed, “Oh, so I’m just another one in the crowd now?” the teasing lilt to your tone made him scrunch his nose up, his giggle bubbling out of him as he waved his hands in front of him.

“Of course not. Definitely not,” and most definitely not to Yuta he’d wanted to add but stopped himself in time.

“Yuta?” you hummed. Or at least he thought he stopped himself.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘most definitely not to Yuta’,” you mimicked his tone, making Mark squint at you, trying his best to contain his nervous laughter.

“What? No, I didn’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, expression almost mimicking his as you sipped on your drink, shocking yourself when you’d sucked in air through your straw, a small pout forming on your lips at the realisation that you were done with your drink.

Taking his opportunity while you were distracted, Mark swallowed the food in his mouth with a wince, “Anyway, you were saying? The gig on Thursday?”

You held his gaze, still finding it weird that he’d singled out Yuta that way. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been to their gigs in a while, and you knew Yuta wanted you to go.

“Yeah… anyway,” you shot him a look, rolling your shoulders back with a sigh, “yeah, I was saying I’ll be going for the gig on Thursday. I figured I might as well attend it ‘cause I’m not working late that day and I’m getting dinner with Yuta afterwards anyway.”

Mark’s lips parted, realisation washing over his features before his mouth grew into a smile. So that explains why Yuta mentioned he had dinner plans that could ‘absolutely not be interrupted’ by the band.

“Oh? Bestie time?” was all Mark could muster.

Yuta was hopeless, really hopeless.

You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your face.

“Yes,” you huffed, “bestie time.”

Mark chewed on his lower lip, debating within himself whether the information in his head was worth revealing to you (not like he had much control over it, he was horrible at keeping secrets).

“You can tell he misses spending time with you,” Mark blurted, eyes widening in shock before he tried to play it off, clearing his throat.

You frowned, “I know… it’s my fault, honestly. I was so busy with work and moving and Jungwoo—”

“Hey, uh, how is he, anyway?”

You purse your lips, unsure what sort of answer to give him.

Mark couldn’t help the little prick of pity from stinging his heart. _Guess Yuta wasn’t lying when he said things were rocky, huh. _

“He’s… swamped with work,” you began, fiddling with the straw between your fingers as you fumbled for an answer.

Frankly, you didn’t know how he was doing because he never told you how he was. Another Zeus thing his dad had ingrained into him was to just avoid all sorts of emotion and communication about said emotions, apparently, to your significant other as well.

Mark could sense your discomfort, choosing not to prod further, “It’s okay, forget I asked. It’s been a while since we’ve contacted each other anyway.”

You took in a deep breath, forcing yourself to come back to your surroundings, telling yourself over and over again that you were okay, and that you definitely couldn’t afford to spiral into such thoughts over Jungwoo right before a conference meeting with him.

“Could you try? You know, like, getting into contact with him? It’s just…I don’t think he’s met any of his friends in a long while...” you mustered enough courage to ask, exchanging a sympathetic glance with Mark who was kind enough to nod.

“Of course,” his tone was gentler now.

This was why you loved Mark. He may be clumsy and naive at times, but maybe it was his days practicing his writing that made him just so good at reading people and emotions. You were especially glad he possessed such an ability because at times like this, a thousand words were being exchanged without a single one needing to be uttered.

Your phone buzzed.

Reminder: head back to z to prepare for the meeting now! 

“Hey, I’ve gotta head back to the office now. I’ll see you on Thursday?” you asked, Mark’s smile doing everything to boost your mood.

He nodded. “Think about the offer, okay?”

You gave him a wave as you made to walk away, “Trust me. Now that you’ve put the thought in my head, it’s gonna be hard to think of anything else.”

===

You guess you spoke too soon.

Because as you sat, in the uncomfortable, hard leather chairs of the carpeted conference room, you’d wanted nothing more but to strangle the Head of Human Resource.

You’d forced yourself to rejoin whatever conversation they were having now, catching on to mentions of Olympus and the gold themes that could be developed on.

You leant over to Johnny who was (fortunately) seated next to you, your tone harsh and clipped, “Didn’t they already curate the art pieces? Why are they suddenly changing the theme?”

The said Head of Marketing seemed just as baffled as you were, “I only heard about it this morning but I didn’t think it was real. Not when it’s so close to the date of the exhibition. But from what I know…” Johnny sighed, “Chairman’s orders.”

You almost rolled your eyes, you should’ve known he just wanted another excuse to rub Zeus into everyone’s faces. Probably explains why Jungwoo looks the least shocked.

As if sensing your distress, Johnny’s eyebrows furrowed, “Nobody told you?”

You huffed, shaking your head as you let your arms fold over your chest, “Not a single soul.”

You cast a pointed glare at the Head of Human Resource, the middle-aged man who was laughing without a care in the world.

Your leg bounced soundlessly on the grey carpeted floor, your gaze wandering over to your prepared documents, the initial theme staring at you almost mockingly in the special design you’d spent almost hours perfecting. The boisterous laughter from the other members present in the meeting almost served as a cherry on top.

Paracosm. It was a greek word. The detailed imaginary world created inside one’s mind. Humans, animals, things that exist in imagination and reality. How you could imagine all the beautiful art that could come out of that. In fact, you’d already seen some of it, and they were meant to be appreciated.

But Olympus? The theme had been recycled for ages and everyone knew that.

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem, right? For HR to make necessary preparations according to the new theme? Y/N?” A faceless voice had asked, a frown taking over your features as you made to answer, only to get interrupted by your boss.

“Of course, of course. I’ll handle it. After all, I’ll have my pretty head cheerleader by my side.”

As if. You wanted to hurl. You knew that after the meeting it’d be all left to you to figure out on your own. He’ll handle it? Please. 

Johnny was visibly disgruntled by the connotations behind ‘cheerleader’ in this case, his friendship with you and Jaehyun letting him know just how little your Head actually did for events. Not to mention what a classic example of a predator he was, relishing in how his department just so happened (as if he isn’t swayed by this) to be a group full of young, societally-deemed gorgeous women (and men, if you included Jaehyun).

But what put you off the most was the way your boyfriend had simply laughed, the sweetest of smiles on his face.

“Definitely, definitely,” he agreed with your boss.

Blame your own hopes that Jungwoo would make some (or any) effort to defend you. He knew about the reputation your boss had, how uncomfortable it made his staff, yet nothing could be done to punish him because he was one of the Chairman’s drinking buddies.

Vice-President or not, the Jungwoo you’d met in college wasn’t a coward. Not like the one you were looking at now, too afraid of damaging his reputation and his relationship with his subordinates to defend his own girlfriend.

“Y/N, ready to present?” your boss spoke, the shock that jolted through you causing your eyes to widen, lips parting in shock. You remembered very clearly that it was supposed to be done by your boss, not you. _And if anything, how could you prepare for something you had no idea about? _

Johnny leant over to inspect the documents in front of you, a confused knit to his brow, “What is he talking about?”

You knew it wasn’t the first time you’d been thrown under the bus like this, and you could already hear your boss’ voice ringing in your ears. _‘Grow up, Y/N. This is an office, not a playground’. _

“I have nothing to present,” you let out an exasperated huff, fists clenching and unclenching as you met the gazes of the 8 other people in the conference room.

“I have nothing to present,” you said, louder this time.

You locked eyes with Jungwoo, who looked at you as if you’d grown another head, frowning at you.

“What did you say?” the Vice President, one of Jungwoo’s cousins had spoken up, the glare in his eyes more evident than Jungwoo’s.

You stayed nonchalant in response to the murmurs that had started, echoing around the otherwise empty room. The way the conference rooms were built, the panelled white walls and unnecessarily large black tinted glass table placed smack in the middle of the room. It was like every sound seemed to echo through the room, so you knew they heard you.

“The materials i’ve prepared are for the previous theme.”

You inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to hug your arms to yourself, the room almost growing colder than it already felt.

Oh, Mark. Sweet, naive Mark. If only it was that easy to ignore how much this company made your blood boil.

“Are you kidding?” Your boss scoffed.

Johnny straightened up, setting his coffee cup down on the table harshly, a frown etched onto his face, “It’s not her fa—”

“I apologize,” you muttered through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t informed of the changes until attending this meeting.”

Your boss didn’t feel any need to spare you, and you could tell from the look on his face that he was intent on saving his face before even giving a second thought about yours.

“In the first place, you should’ve been on top of things. How is it that everyone knew about the changes aside from you?” He stood up from his seat, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “I don’t know what you take this place for but we’re trying to run an organization here, Y/N. Do you really expect everyone to be giving you updates twenty-four seven? Do you expect everyone to treat you like a princess here?”

You cast a sideways glance at Jungwoo, who seemed as though he were oblivious to the entire situation, simply tapping away at his phone, disinterested in the fact that you were getting humiliated in front of the whole planning committee.

Johnny rolled his eyes, a deep sigh leaving him, “That has nothing to do with it. Half of us weren’t aware of the changes either—”

Your fists were balled at your sides. How was it that even Johnny was easily trying to defend you when Jungwoo was acting as though he didn’t even know you. You understood professionalism, don’t get me wrong. But there was something different about Jungwoo’s ‘professionalism’, something in the pattern of his behaviour that portrayed it as more of a convenient sense of apathy as compared to professionalism.

Just like that, it was like a switch had flipped in your boss, turning to the rest of the room with a forced smile on his face.

“Well, if no one else has any input, i’d say we can end the meeting here. Mr Kim, anything else?” he asked Jungwoo, earning a quick shake of the head from said man.

“Nope, I think that’s all.”

Hoping that was the end of your humiliation, you began to pack your things, almost jumping at the echo of your boss’ next words, “Y/N, stay behind.”

Exchanging a knowing glance with Johnny, you’d felt him lean over, lowering his voice to a murmur as he said, “Good luck. Text me if you need anything. I’ve got soju in my cubicle drawer.”

Letting out the little huff of laughter that was all you seemed to be able to muster at the moment, you inhaled deeply, letting out a shaky sigh as you made your way to where your boss was sitting, one ankle propped on his other knee as you stood before him, hands clasped in front of you and your head bowed.

You could almost laugh. Never would you (or Yuta) have imagined that you’d ever be rendered so passive, but you guessed that was just what Jungwoo’s family did to people.

“What the hell was that shit about? You ‘have nothing to present’? Are you trying to get me fired?” his tone was more cutting and spiteful compared to how it was just minutes ago.

“No, sir. I’m very sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Darling, if a simple little sorry fixed everything why don’t you just go tell the Chairman sorry for not doing your job properly?”

You chewed on your lower lip, averting your gaze and letting it fixate on the coffee cup next to his hand.

“Whatever your relationship with the Chairman’s son is, it doesn’t excuse sloppy behaviour.”

You inhaled deeply, your fingers grasping tighter on each other, as if that was the only thing holding you together from a mental breakdown; maybe it was.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he bit out.

Forcing your gaze away from the coffee cup, you looked at him. He didn’t even look that angry. But then again, you didn’t think you looked as angry as you felt either, because on the inside you were absolutely fuming.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better at the next meeting.”

Your boss stood up, “For some reason… that answer doesn’t satisfy me…” he trailed off, giving you a once-over that was enough to make your skin crawl.

“What?” he suddenly spat, your eyes widening in response, a questioning squeak of a hum leaving you.

“You look like you have something to say, so say it,” he continued, folding his arms in front of him.

“Uh… Sir, I uh… I didn’t think it was very appropriate for you to refer to me as a…” you refrained from wincing, “head cheerleader just now…”

Watching his expression intently, you were at a loss when he’d started to laugh, though a bitter one at that. It was as if you were stuck in place just watching. Watching and watching, your body was unable to form a response quickly enough as you saw him pick up his coffee cup from the table, staring you dead in the eye before emptying it over your head. That was definitely an untouched cup of coffee. 

This counted as workplace abuse, right? He wasn’t allowed to do this. Your first thoughts were enough to send you reeling. More than the fact that your hair and clothes were now covered in freezing coffee.

“Wake up, Y/N. You’ve been getting cocky because I haven’t bitched at you in a while. So take this as a reminder. This isn’t any piece of shit company. This is Zeus. Whatever shit you think you can pull here, it’s not gonna work.”  

Without another word, he’d gathered his things and stalked off, the door shutting loudly behind him.

Black coffee dripping from your hair and clothes, your body moved like clockwork. Gathering your things, you’d made your way out of the room, beginning your long journey back to your office tower.

If you were fuming before, you were utterly numb now, wanting nothing more than to just get to the confines of your colourless office and cry.

Maybe this time you were glad the office was so plain. As you were walking through the corridors, you’d let the brown coffee drip off of you, staining their precious white tiles, the clicking of your heels a mere punctuation to the trail you were leaving in their spotless office.

You didn’t care that you could hear the staff murmuring about you, or that you were on the receiving end of their scandalised looks. You wanted to yell a big screw you to this office and everything it stood for, especially its chairman. But you guessed for now, that ‘screw you’ would be in the form of the coffee leaking off your hair and clothes. You hoped they saw you like this.

Walking through the walkway connecting your office tower to the main building, up the sleek black stairs bringing you up three stories, you spent your time observing the surroundings you’d entered.

The floors had changed, the victim of your dirty coffee shoes now being the black marble floor tiles, the white walls and bright lights irritating you to no end.

You always thought there was something wrong about this place, but now you were feeling it. It was cold and it was heartless.

In short, that was the moment you decided maybe Mark’s offer was worth accepting.

Finally reaching your office, you’d kicked off your heels once you walked through the black tinted doors, doing away with the ‘my door is always open’ policy just for now as you made your way to your desk, fishing underneath for your spare change of clothes.

Trying to find a towel, you’d let out a frustrated groan when you’d found nothing of the sort, deciding to just get out of these clothes first.

Already beginning to undo the clasp of your skirt, the sight of the coffee on your legs eliciting a bitter huff from you, you heard the doors open, your head snapping around only to see Jungwoo shutting the door behind him, eyebrows furrowed and letting out a frustrated sigh.

Upon realising it was him, you couldn’t help but scoff, turning away to resume changing your clothes.

“Hey,” you heard him speak, “what got into you just now?”

You tilted your head, lips pursing, your grip on your skirt tightening. Your heart sank at the feeling of warmth building at your eyes, the tears you thought you’d done well containing on your journey here threatening to spill over.

“No ‘are you okay’?” you dumped your clean skirt onto your desk with a harsh thud, “No ‘can I get you a towel?’ Not even ‘what did that idiot do to you’?”

“Look, I’m sorry but there was nothing I could do—”

“Nothing?” you bit harshly at your lower lip, wiping haphazardly at your tears with your palms as you struggled with the zip of your skirt that got caught on the fabric, the blurring of your vision rendering it almost impossible in addition to your already high-strung state.

“Yes,” he folded his arms over his chest, leaning on the recliner at the corner of your office, looking around the room as if now was the best time to scrutinise your sense of interior design, “Nothing.”

Your lower lip quivered as more tears had spilled over, groaning at your inability to take off your skirt. You didn’t even know if you wanted to look at him right now, not with how overwhelmed you were.

“You didn’t even try to defend me, you know? Even Johnny was doing more than you so don’t tell me there was ‘nothing you could do’.”

Jungwoo let out an exasperated sigh, seemingly frustrated at the way you were behaving towards him.

“It wasn’t my place to get involved,” he told you simply, the words he’d heard so often from his father, as if that was his trump card that ended all discussion on the topic.

“Then what is your place, Jungwoo?” you hiccupped, coughing out a choked sob, “Johnny got ‘involved’ because of his ‘place’ as my colleague and my friend. What the hell is your place? If not my boyfriend, or my superior?”

You knew the answer to that without him needing to say it. His place was always as his parents’ son. You guessed you had to learn that the hard way.

Struggling to maintain your volume, you shook your head when you were met with silence.

“Get out of my office. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

Passively, he did as you told, leaving the office without another word.

Seconds later, you heard a knock at the door, your annoyance getting the better of you.

“I said I didn’t want to fucking talk right now, Jungwoo.”

“Woah, woah. Not Jungwoo. Jaehyun and Johnny,” you could practically hear Johnny’s muffled giggle of ‘someone’s in trouble’ in the background.

You sighed, poking at the zip of your skirt.

“What do you want,” you sighed.

“We come in peace. It’s almost time to get off work. Get changed and let’s go for dinner.”

You gladly obliged.

===

How was it that you were starting to find it hard to answer Johnny, when the answer to his question should’ve come easy to you? 

“When’s the last time you and Jungwoo said ‘I love you’ to each other?”

It was fine, right? 

You’d just ended a (very short) phone call with Jungwoo, mainly involving him asking where you were and that he was going to bed early. In other words, not to get back too late and that he wouldn’t wait up for you, the lack of ‘couple niceties’ (as Johnny put it) making the two boys cast questioning looks at you.  

You shrugged, “We’re fighting. Does it look like I wanna tell him I love him?” you let out a bitter huff of laughter, though Johnny seemed to be able to see right through you.

“You’re being evasive,” he told you with a pointed look.  

You scoffed, “Fine, I can’t remember. But that doesn’t matter! I know lots of couples that don’t say that often, but it’s alright ‘cause... it’s not like they have to say it to know they’re loved.”

Strangely, you weren’t convinced that you and Jungwoo were one of those couples. And it seemed that Jaehyun (and Johnny after Jaehyun filled him in on his conspiracy theory) wasn’t either.

“I’d believe you if you sounded more convinced yourself,” Jaehyun snickered around his mouthful of noodles.

You sighed, your lack of an answer doing nothing but confirming Jaehyun’s suspicions further.

“He came to talk to you, right? Before we showed up.”

You nodded, reaching over to flip the meat on the grill, Johnny quickly reaching over to take the tongs from you, insisting that he do it instead.

“Well?” Jaehyun prompted, “what did he say? You sounded pissed just now.”

“Said he didn’t defend me because there was ‘nothing he could do’,” you made air-quotes around Jungwoo’s words, your eyeroll punctuating the sentence. Pausing to take a sip of your cold water, you continued, “that it ‘wasn’t his place’ to do anything.”

Jaehyun scrunched his nose up in distaste while Johnny simply stared at you, lips parted in shock.

“It’s not the first time it’s happened either…” you murmured, “whenever we have dinner with the Chairman and his wife, it’s like he just chooses not to hear what they say to me.”

“Have you tried telling him how you feel?” Jaehyun asked, earning an earnest nod from you.

“Many times. He never wants to pursue it,” you sighed, pressing your lips into a firm line before letting out a breath you were holding, “Always blames it on me being stressed and shit like that.”

Johnny sucked in a sharp breath.

“That’s… different.”

Jaehyun snorted, “You mean unhealthy?”

You raised your eyebrows, offering a meek shrug, “Yeah. Different, that’s for sure.”

“You mean unhealthy,” Jaehyun repeated.

You scoffed, not being able to help but laugh at your pathetic situation, “Yeah? What do you think I should do, then? I already wanna quit my job, should I just break up with him too while I’m at it?” you joked (or at least you hoped it was a joke, you weren’t sure how much of your words you were ready to admit were true).

Jaehyun and Johnny nodded, eliciting wide-eyed shock from you.

Jaehyun winced, nodding slowly, “I mean, you already said it yourself. He doesn’t support you or listen to you. He basically gaslights you whenever you try to talk things out… he’s too caught up in whatever game his parents are playing that—”

“Okay, can we stop talking about this?” You blurted, letting out a shaky breath you didn’t realise you were holding, your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your ears at the thought of Jaehyun’s words.

Johnny had nodded, smoothly interjecting and changing the subject to talk about Mark’s best-selling book.  

You were glad for Jaehyun and Johnny’s company, nonetheless. They’d managed to distract you and cheer you up until it was time for you to make your way home at one in the morning in the backseat of Johnny’s car.

yuta 1:11am -u still out w jae and john? Need a ride back?-   1:11am -also any song requests for thursday? Setlist is looking kind of boring according to Jeno- 

You huffed, a small smile playing at your lips as you replied to his message.

1:11am -since when did you listen to jeno?- 1:12am **-and yes johnnys sending me home now … were u nearby?- **

Yuta 1:12am -you’re right but still, the kid got to me, now i’m wondering if its really boring or if hes just messing with me-  1:12am -good text me when youre home-   1:12am -anyway, really no song requests?- 

You hummed, your eyes lighting up in excitement at the song that came to mind, hurriedly typing out your reply.

1:12am -too much time together is a must!!!!- 

Yuta’s fingers froze over the keypad of his computer, not knowing how to respond to your selection. You obviously didn’t know the meaning of the song if you liked it that much.

Yuta 1:14am -u like that song?- 

Your reply came quickly.

1:14am - LOVE it…- 

Yuta fought to contain his smile, nodding slowly as he replied to you.

Yuta 1:14am -alright, i’ll add it-

“We’re here,” Johnny yawned, your head snapping up to take in your surroundings, almost forgetting what time it was.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

He cast you a glance through the rearview mirror before turning his body to face you, watching as you gathered your things, “It’s fine. Get some rest, alright?... You had a... tough day.”

You huffed, giving him a smile, “I’ll be fine. Drive safe,” you got out of the car.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he spoke before you could shut the door, a hum leaving you.

“I know i’m speaking from an outside perspective but… I’ve been in a similar situation before and… it might help if you just spend some time thinking about what you do want in a partner, you know?”

You smiled, the comfort slowly stirring within you relieving you to an extent, knowing he was right.

“Thanks, I will.” You shut the car door behind you as you made your way to your apartment building.

Unlocking your apartment door as softly as you could, you shut it behind you, shivering at the temperature in your apartment, almost reaching for the thermostat but deciding against it. You knew Jungwoo liked the temperature like this.

Setting your things down on the sofa, you’d gone to take a quick shower, padding softly around your room so as not to wake Jungwoo.

Finally settled down, you’d eased yourself under the duvet, somehow having woken Jungwoo with the rustling of the covers. The boy had rolled over, habitually draping his arm over you to tug you closer to him.

“What time is it?” the frown was evident in his tone.

“A little close to 1:45,” you murmured softly, not being able to find as much comfort in his embrace as you used to.  

“Jungwoo?” you dared to whisper after a while, a soft hum leaving him.

“Remember how I met up with Mark that day?”

He let out another soft hum, snuggling closer to you with a tired sigh.

“He was telling me about this job offer at the publishing company he’s signed to… and he explained to me all the benefits and everything… I’m just… I was thinking of taking up his offer… you know, to work in the publishing firm,” you kept your gaze fixed onto the ceiling, the darkness of the room almost swallowing you whole as you awaited his answer.

“I think you’re just stressed from work. Let’s not make any rash decisions, okay?” his tone was gentle, soft, but his words had only hit a nerve.

“But i’ve been really thinking about it, I think i’d be much happier there,” you told him, trying again.

Jungwoo sighed, “You have a good job now, Y/N. I really think you’re just tired and stressed out, you know, with the art gallery opening preparations and everything… don’t let Mark put ideas in your head that you’ll regret.”

You inhaled deeply, shutting your eyes. Jaehyun was right, even if he didn’t say it out loud, you knew what he was thinking, yet now you could only agree.

You weren’t in love with Jungwoo. 

===

Sitting at the bar that Yuta’s band was performing at, dressed in comfortable clothes and sipping your sprite as you watched Yuta show off in front of the sweaty, starstruck people gathered in front of the stage, you almost felt like you were in college again.

Locking your phone after saving the picture of the sunset from the rooftop of the bar that Yuta had sent you half an hour ago, you looked up when you heard Haechan’s voice in the microphone.

“By special request, this next song is dedicated to…” Haechan announced into the microphone loudly, one of his legs clad in overly ripped black jeans kicking at the wire of his microphone.

You missed the urgent glare Yuta sent Haechan’s way, too distracted by the way Mark’s giggles had verberated through the bar.

“To a special someone,” Mark offered.

“Uh-huh,” Haechan drawled, “very special someone.”

Lucas had giggled softly as well, his shoulders exposed by his sleeveless shirt shaking with laughter, one hand clasping his drumsticks between his fingers coming up to cover his mouth though his smile was simply too contagious to contain.

Jeno’s played a few notes absently on his bass guitar, voice was just barely caught by the microphone, a soft teasing murmur of, “Wonder if they’re here today.”

You glanced at Yuta, who had run a hand through his freshly dyed black hair with little neon green highlights running through it. He looked good, you had to admit, even if he was busy glaring at Jeno.

“Okay, okay, let’s just get on with it,” Yuta dismissed them quickly, guitar pick pinched between his index finger and thumb as his hand came up to touch his earring.

Once they started the song, you sang along, smiling more than you had in a while as you watched the band perform, the way Yuta made eye contact with you while he performed reminding you of the first time he’d led sports day in high school and told you that he only looked your way whenever he spoke in the microphone because it helped his nerves.

Though it was as if you were the one growing anxious, a large chunk of the song lyrics remind you of Jungwoo.

“Your touch used to feel loving, now it just feels smothering. Something’s changed, no one’s to blame, I’d try to talk it out but I don’t think you want to,” Haechan sang, the tone of his vocals making you wonder what Yuta sounded like singing the song.

Sure, you’d heard him sing other songs countless times, but each song was an experience of its own. You were getting distracted.

“We spend too much time together, I wanna be with you forever but we need space,” you sang along, “you should stay at your place.”

Yuta sang together with Haechan, his stare almost unnerving you as you started to think about the lyrics more deeply. “We spend too much time alone, when we’re not together we talk on the phone. Yeah, we need space.”

You stopped singing, gulping down the rest of the sprite as you sat in a pensive silence for the rest of the gig.

Something was definitely wrong. It was wrong because as much as you knew this song was probably written for one of Yuta’s lost college loves, now you couldn’t stop thinking of the song in the context of yours and Yuta’s relationship. You didn’t know which was worse, when it reminded you or Jungwoo or Yuta.

You shook your head (as if it would help clear your mind of such thoughts), nodding along to the rest of whatever song they were playing until the gig was over, the crowd dispersing after a while which you took as your cue to head out and wait for Yuta.

Hearing a sharp-toned shout of your name, drawn out like an excited little child, you’d turned to spot Yuta bounding toward you, the rest of the band trailing behind him and chatting happily, still riding on their post-performance buzz.

“Ready to go?” He grinned.

Your eyebrows raised in question, tugging your coat tighter around yourself as a sudden shiver went through you, “They’ve already decided on where to go?”

Yuta shook his head.

“Thought dinner could be just us,” he said, deciding he’d spoken a little too quickly, his gaze flickering to your surroundings as he shrugged, “you know, so we can like… just chill.”

You couldn't say you were disappointed. Sure, you loved the band, but you had to admit that the sound of hanging out mindlessly in Yuta’s cozy studio apartment with simple food for dinner sounded awfully enticing.

“Alright, let’s go,” you smiled. (You tried to ignore the dramatic yells of mock disappointment from the rest of the guys as you and Yuta walked off).

After much bickering and entertaining distractions at the supermarket, Yuta and yourself had decided on just making instant noodles for dinner, too tired to think of putting any actual effort into preparing anything more elaborate.

Ripping the noodle packet open, you hadn’t noticed the way Yuta was staring at you, leant against the white marble countertop with his arms folded over his chest, debating on whether to ask you about what he’d heard from Johnny.

“Are things better?” He began, hoping you didn’t notice how he’d momentarily forgotten what he was about to say when you turned to look at him, humming as you gave him a small smile.

“What things?” You plopped the noodles into the little pot.

“You know,” a small huff of breathy laughter left him, “in… paradise?”

You scoffed, “Don’t know if you can call it paradise but… I guess it’s alright. Oh, I managed to meet up with Mark.”

Yuta smiled, nodding, his hand coming up to unclasp the metal chain around his neck, “Yeah, he was really happy about it. What did you guys talk about?”

You fiddled with the packets of powder. “He was telling me about his girlfriend’s publishing company. He was saying how she wanted to offer me a job there as an editor—”

Yuta almost squealed, accidentally smacking you on the arm in his excitement. “That’s a really good opportunity! Why don’t you just take it? You hate your job at Zeus, anyway. Plus, you’ve been wanting a job in publishing for so long, I heard his girlfriend’s company’s pretty good. Why not, you know?”

You’d almost faltered, thinking about how differently Jungwoo had reacted compared to Yuta’s excited rambling. You could only manage a deflated sigh as you looked at him, empty powder packets clenched in your fist.

“What’s stopping you? Is the pay shit?” he’d asked, a more serious tone taking over him. It would’ve made you laugh under normal circumstances if you weren’t so busy thinking about how understanding and supportive Yuta was, two of the things you didn’t seem to be receiving from Jungwoo.

You huffed, not being able to stifle the smile on your face, shaking your head at him, “No, the pay’s perfectly fine actually… it’s just…”

“Just?”

“No, I was just a little shocked, that’s all… your reaction was really different from Jungwoo,” you huffed.

“You guys managed to talk things out?” Yuta’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as he fidgeted with the hem of his black singlet, since he’d recalled Johnny’s story not having ended very well.

You weren’t sure whether you should tell Yuta about yours and Jungwoo’s situation. Sure, you’d told him before, but a part of you felt almost embarrassed to tell him about how badly your relationship was doing. After all, he’d been the first one to warn you about Jungwoo’s family.

But it was then that you’d remembered Yuta’s words from before, that promise that you didn’t have to trod on eggshells when it came to talking to him, a wave of relief washing over you.

You shook your head, leaning against his fridge, your lips pursing before a small shrug left you.

“We don’t usually get to… ‘talk things out’.”

He shot you a knowing look.

“Okay, I know what you’re gonna say, that ‘it’s not healthy’ and ‘_you need good communication in a relationship’ _and yes, I know that. But it's just… difficult to talk to him about work things, he gets really defensive and like… practical about it.”

“What kind of work things?” Yuta asked.

“Well...firstly, things like switching jobs, and like stuff like what happened the other day.”

Watching Yuta’s confusion heighten, your lips parted in shock, features pulling into a frown, “Oh, I didn’t tell you?”

Yuta giggled, shaking his head, “Okay, hit it.” He glanced over at the noodles, urging you to step aside since the noodles were done.

“Wait, don’t hit it yet.” he picked the pot up and just like clockwork, you’d adjourned to his living room, setting the pot onto a magazine on the coffee table. The two of you settled down on his comfortable rug, Yuta scooping some noodles into a bowl and prompting you to start.

“Okay, so i’m assuming the last I told you was regarding the anniversary dinner, which I was already pissed off about because the idiot asked me to draft the speech for Jungwoo even though it was assigned to him, and then…” you continued in your tirade, stopping every now and then to eat your noodles.

“... oh, yeah! I almost forgot, and then- wait actually, let me give you some context on that first, so since we recently had an acquisition of this startup…” you continued, Yuta patiently listening to you as he ate, his eyebrows raising and a small smile on his face as he watched you talk. He almost felt like he was back on your balcony in high school, sharing comfort after a long and tiring day. It’d been a while since he’d gotten to feel that way.

“I guess that’s why it’s tough to talk to him about this stuff, you know? Since he’s involved in a lot of it. I don’t know, what do you think?”

Yuta had a strange look in his eyes, a smile slowly appearing on his face, as though he were in some sort of daze, “I have no idea about half the things that just came out of your mouth,” he confessed.

A gasp left you, followed by a groan, “Why didn’t you stop me! I could’ve explained it better.”

Yuta shook his head, a small insistent sound of protest leaving him.

“This is fine, I just wanted to hear you talk. Plus, you looked like you needed it.”

You glared at him, ignoring the way you’d softened at his words. It was always like Yuta to be casually sweet like this, especially when you didn’t expect it.

“Fine, I understood the parts about Jungwoo, okay?” Yuta lied, it's not like he wanted to zone out while you were talking, he just… couldn’t help it, you’d lost him when you’d brought in the acquisition. And plus, he was trying to understand how someone could look so pretty while they were angry.

You let out a tired sigh, “I know I can’t blame him, because he’s in a tough position himself. You know, having to lead the company and not go against his parents' wants for the company, but it just kind of sucked to see how much he changed because of that. He’s… not as sensitive or optimistic as before… he’s a lot more avoidant and… cynical.” It’s like we're still together for the sake of still being together. You wanted to add, but stopped yourself short, glancing cautiously at Yuta.

Yuta pressed his lips into a firm line, setting his bowl down on the coffee table to lean his side against his sofa, facing you.

“I can’t say i’m surprised… I heard enough about Zeus to know that his family was capable of being so cold but… I don’t know, a part of me was always hoping that Jungwoo would prove me wrong,” you murmured, fishing around in the pot to see if there were any noodles left and coming up short, setting your bowl down as well.

Yuta shook his head, a disgruntled sound leaving him, “It’s not your fault, the jerk had everyone convinced he was an angel. Well, except me, of course.”

“Don’t say that, Yu. He’s still my boyfriend,” you sighed, unsure if you were just saying that out of habit now, the meaning behind your words having gotten fuzzy overtime.

You sighed, leaning back against his sofa, your eyes shutting as you tried to understand why your heart rate seemed to be picking up. If you could describe what you were feeling, it was almost as if you wanted to empty out your innermost thoughts to Yuta, as if something in you was feeling compelled to just vomit everything you’d wanted to tell him. Every joke you’d archived and made a note of ‘I should tell this to Yuta the next time I see him’, to your thoughts on all the shows you’d binged while he was touring, to even your frustrations over the past few months that you couldn’t tell Jungwoo about. The biggest of all those thoughts was weighing down on you and making you feel like you couldn’t breathe. Getting it out would obviously be a better option, wouldn’t it? 

“He asked me to marry him,” you blurted out, shutting your eyes even tighter as you anticipated his response.

You were only met with silence, what felt like solid minutes of it.

Forcing your eyes open, you stared at the painting Yuta hung on the wall you were facing, something he’d painted himself, you noted. It was loud, complex, messy, yet beautiful all the same. His art tended to mirror him, somewhat. But now, he was quite the opposite, the only sound in the apartment was the sound of your breathing and the low hum of traffic from downstairs.

“Why are you so quiet?” you muttered, wishing you could melt into his sofa, heavily unnerved by his lack of a response.

You were expecting a huff of ‘marriage?’ at least, or maybe an off-handed comment about not wanting to be the florist for your wedding. Not… this.

“What do you want me to say?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands clasped in your lap, “I don’t know.”

Yuta’s expression was serious, “You don’t know?”

You nodded.

“Do you want to marry him?”

You frowned, “What kind of question is that?” your defensiveness got the better of you, making Yuta scoff.

“It’s a question anybody could ask you. And if you’re leaning towards a no, then there’s your answer.”

You dared to meet his gaze, “Do you want me to say no?”

Yuta’s answer came so quickly you’d almost thought you’d imagined it, “Do you think I want you to say yes?”

His gaze was unwavering, a hint of restraint in his actions, his gaze searching yours in what you almost labelled as desperation.

“It’s not my decision to make, Y/N. It’s your marriage. Your love life. Even if I say no, if you…” Yuta swallowed, “love him, who am I to stop you? Nothing I say is supposed to make that decision for you,” he told you firmly. He almost sounded frustrated.

And the truth is, he was. He was frustrated. Of course he didn’t want you to marry Jungwoo. He didn’t understand how even after all the stories he’d heard from you, Johnny and Jaehyun that you’d still cared so much for Jungwoo. It just didn’t seem mutual to him.

Of course he wished he could just tell you not to marry Jungwoo, tell you how he felt, but he didn’t want to be selfish. It wasn’t right for him to expect you to love him when you already had so many things in your own love life to deal with. Loving him was probably the least of your worries, he figured.

“I know,” you shrugged, “just thought I'd tell you first. You’re my best friend. Of course, your opinion matters to me.”

You weren’t sure why the thought had suddenly come to mind, but was it appropriate for you to be spending time with Yuta like this? Sure, you were friends but… why did it feel so inappropriate? It wasn’t like you had feelings for Yuta, right? Maybe that song was right. As much as you wanted to be with Yuta forever, you were spending too much time together. The more time you spent with him, the more you didn’t want to leave. You needed space. 

Curse the stupid song for putting you through so many ridiculous thought processes.

“I know you, Y/N. And knowing you, you’ve probably already made the decision and you’re just waiting for that push to say it.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting and shutting again, knowing fully well that he was right.

“When’s that art gallery thing opening? Mark won’t shut up about it,” He changed the subject smoothly, which you had to admit you were thankful for, that conversation seemed to have reached its end.

“Next week, it’s a really tight deadline… you guys are free to come for the opening if you want.”

“Really? Pretty sure Mark would die if I told him that. He keeps talking about the architect that designed it,” he laughed, earning an insistent nod from you.

“Yeah, totally. It’s free admission, you guys are more than welcome.”

Yuta nodded, shifting so he was sitting on the sofa now, “I’ll make sure to tell him that. Wanna watch something?”

Angling your body to face the television, you nodded, seeing him already start to browse through the movie selection.

You had a better evening than you had the past week, choosing to be away from work (even though you knew you’d come back to a storm of emails from your boss) just for one evening. Though you didn’t regret it, it felt nice, to just relax in Yuta’s comfortable apartment, being in each other’s presence but not feeling uncomfortable. You liked that.

Just as you were starting to feel even more relaxed, cozied up in Yuta’s sofa with a blanket draped over you, a fluffy pillow comfortably nested beside you, you’d checked the time. You figured you should check on Jungwoo, hoping he wasn’t working late.

9:48pm - where are you? - 

Kim Jungwoo 9:48pm - having drinks with some clients.- 

9:48pm -will u be back late?-

Kim Jungwoo 9:49pm -yes- 

9:50pm -please don’t drink too much- 9:50pm -and come back safe-

He didn’t reply. You and Yuta had continued to watch spiderman, waiting till the credits to decide to call it a day.

“It’s pretty late. I’ll drive you home,” Yuta murmured softly, getting up from the sofa to retrieve his car keys from his bedroom.

“Right, forgot you had a car,” you smiled, unlocking Yuta’s front door to put on your shoes first, the said boy strolling up behind you, plastic bag in hand.

“From my mom,” he told you simply, holding up the bag to show you, unsure why he was flushed from embarrassment. Get yourself together, Yuta, it’s no big deal, it’s just fruits.   

“Tell her I say thanks. Somehow, eating the fruits I pick myself isn’t nearly as nice as eating the ones she picks,” you sighed, walking in a tired silence down with him to the parking lot of his apartment complex.

“You’re working tomorrow, right?”

You nodded.

“Don’t sleep too late,” he yawned.

“What about you? Are you working tomorrow?” you asked, getting into the passenger seat of his car, yawning as well.

Yuta nodded, “I’m covering Doyoung’s shift tomorrow ‘cause he’s moving, so i’ll be at the shop the whole day.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, “Oh, that reminds me. I really like the flowers.”

“Really? You’ve managed to keep them alive till now?” he teased, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot smoothly.

“Shut up, I’m not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, “can I drop by tomorrow during lunch?”

Yuta let out a huff of breathy laughter, a small smile on his face. You had to stop yourself from staring. “That’s funny... that you’d want to visit tomorrow of all days.”

You frowned, “What’s so funny about it? It’s just a Friday.”

“It’s the first day of spring,” he grinned, letting go of one hand on the steering wheel to run it through his hair, “but sure, you can come. You’ll be especially welcome if you’re bringing lunch.”

Rolling your eyes, you’d watched with a small sense of disappointment as he pulled over to the sidewalk next to your apartment complex.

“Y/N?” he suddenly spoke, his tone gentle, as if testing the waters.

“What?” you fished in your bag for your apartment keys, the rustling somehow giving Yuta the confidence to continue.

“I’m not gonna say that ‘whatever your decision is, i’ll support you’ shit because that’s… not true. You know, ‘cause if you’re gonna make a bad decision, I obviously wouldn’t want you to do that. But… where I was going with this was that I just want you to know that I trust that you’re smart. You’ve always known what you want, even if you’re scared to do something about it. I mean, you know yourself best… what makes you happy and what doesn’t.” Yuta sighed, “so I just wanted you to know that I’ll still be here, supporting you, because I know you want to be happier, and I want that for you too.”

His gaze was unwavering, looking at you as though it would help his words be heard better. You’d felt as though your heart had stopped, as though you were looking at yourself from outside your body. Something about Yuta’s words had made a way into your heart and solidified your thoughts. That push you were waiting for, the one he’d spoken about in his house. That was it and he knew that from the look in your eyes.

A small pout formed on your lips, nodding at him. “Thanks, Yuta.”

Just like that, all seriousness was gone as he gave you a tired smile, “Goodnight, love.”

===

You would’ve normally understood why you were receiving stares and hushed murmurs followed you wherever you walked around the office, but on days like today, something just felt off about it. You hadn’t managed to catch the news in the morning because of how soundly you’d slept, and Jungwoo had left the house long before you’d woken up.

You’d realised after your morning meeting when you’d been approached by a rather sympathetic-looking Jaehyun, who’d practically shoved you into your office and almost gave you a concussion with his mini ipad.

Your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself, you’d grabbed his wrist, holding his ipad far enough for you to read comfortably from it, the headline almost making your blood run cold.

There at the top of the article in mocking bold lettering, it read: ‘Trouble in Paradise?: Suspected Affair of Kim Jungwoo’s Long Time Partner’

You had enough of hearing that stupid phrase.

“Give me that,” you took the tablet from Jaehyun, walking over to your desk and slumping down on your chair, your gaze darting from line to line, scanning the article for what it wrote.

‘Lead guitarist of up-and-coming band’.... ‘Sources say the couple are rumoured to be engaged’... ‘Pair were spotted heading out from a bar after the guitarist’s show’... ‘photos taken by an unnamed source show the two sharing an intimate conversation in a car’. 

“There's photos?” you gasped, the horror on your expression only being met with Jaehyun’s grim expression, nodding at you.

“I wish they weren’t clear but… it’s really obvious that it’s you and Yuta.”

You scrolled further down to see the photos, feeling sick when you saw how clear they were. You could already imagine what was awaiting you if Jungwoo’s parents had already seen the article.

“Shit,” you leant back in your seat, already feeling a headache coming on. You handed the ipad back to Jaehyun, who had looked on in concern.

“What are you gonna do?”

You huffed, burying your face in your hands, a muffled, “I wish I knew,” coming out.

You decided to take your phone out, going to Yuta’s chat.

10:16am - i don’t think i can come to the shop later- 

Yuta’s reply came quicker than you expected.

Yuta 10:16am -im guessing u saw the article…- 10:16am -its fine, i understand. I’ll just have the flowers delivered- 

You heard a knock at the door. The door opening to reveal the very woman you weren’t hoping to see, not until the opening of the art gallery.

Jaehyun became stoic in an instant, bowing deeply, “Good morning, Mrs Kim.”

You’d stood up slowly, giving her a bow as well, “Good morning, Mrs Kim. Are you here to see Jungwoo?”

She laughed, sharp and a little squawk-y, kind of like a bird. Or maybe an eagle, in this case, especially from the way she was looking at you as though she were about to eat you alive.

“No, no. Actually, I was hoping to have a little chat with you?” she cast a sideways glance at Jaehyun, “privately.”

Quick to excuse himself, Jaehyun had left the room quickly, mouthing a ‘good luck’ before disappearing behind your tinted office doors.

You watched, wide-eyed and anxious as Jungwoo’s mom had made her way to your office desk slowly, taking a seat in front of you, her hands clasped in a relaxed manner around the handle of her handbag that was perched on her lap delicately.

“Y/N,” she smiled, albeit forced, “my Jungwoo always used to tell me that you’re a good girl. And I understand, how many can fall for this… charm of yours, whatever it is.”

“I just need you to remember that so long as you’re together with him. So long as the public associates the two of you together as partners, whatever you do reflects on him, and on the company,” she told you.

You struggled to maintain your composure. It scared you, almost, how her words and tone could be so spiteful even with that smile plastered on her face.

“Frankly, I don’t care what you want to do in private. But if it hurts my son… if it hurts the reputation of the company my husband and I have worked so hard to build. Just know that you will bear the consequences for that.”

Your lips parted, “I-I’m sorry, Yuta’s just a friend of mine, we’ve been friends since—”

“I don’t,” she clipped, her tone bordering on angry before she’d reverted back to her smile, “care, if the both of you were forced in that car together against your will. The public does not know about your relationship. They believe what they see, they will believe what the media tells them.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to get the article taken down.”

There it was again, her laugh, mocking you as you sat there dumb on your office chair.

“You think this is about the article? We’ve been monitoring you for a while, Y/N. We knew about your friend a long time ago. Zeus Global Enterprises isn’t run by a child, you know? If we wanted to, we would’ve taken down that article long ago. In fact, we could’ve decided whether or not that article even got to see the light of day,” she giggled, standing up and picking up her handbag.

“This was a message from me to you. Especially because my son wants to marry you, you have to be careful about what you let the public see, dear. Take this as a warning,” she focused her gaze on you, before flashing you another smile, turning to leave your office.

Leaving you, mind reeling and absolutely dizzy from the interaction you just had, you got a message from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun 10:22am -coast is clear? Can i come back in now?- 

You gave him a reply of a thumbs up emoji, seeing said boy walk into your office not long after.

“I was thinking about it while I was hiding in my cubicle, something about this feels planned.”

You nodded, lifeless as you stared at your laptop, open on an excel sheet you weren’t even reading, “it was.”

“Like if you- wait, it was?”

You nodded, “She told me they knew about Yuta for a while already, they knew I met up with him. But they only chose to publish an article about it now. Why? Because Jungwoo told them we’re getting married and they don’t like it.”

“God,” you groaned, bringing your palms up to rub at your eyes, “I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“Figure out what? That your in-law’s are crazy?”

“Not my in-laws,” you clipped back quickly, shocking yourself with how smoothly it’d come out of you, the low whistle that came from Jaehyun only serving to make you regret saying it.

Jaehyun shrugged, and you only noticed the laptop in his hands now as he brought it over to the recliner, sitting down and setting it on his lap, “Honestly, if I were you, I’d be mentally preparing myself for the art gallery opening dinner.”

You could only manage a groan, a notification for your email popping up at the corner of your screen.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What did you send me? Is it the finalised speech?” you exited the excel sheet and swiping over to your email to see what Jaehyun had just forwarded to you.

“I have to give it to her, that woman’s smart. Now all eyes will be on you,” he shrugged, nonchalant in his behaviour as he continued typing away at his computer.

Opening the email, your eyes flickered to the attachment first.

Resignation Letter Template.docx

You could only laugh in spite of yourself, “Very funny, idiot.”

He nodded, a hand to his chest as if he was very moved by your statement, his eyes shutting and a shit-eating grin on his face, “You can thank me later. I wish I could use it too.”

“You’re literally an intern.”

“I know, isn’t it tragic?”

===

As unaffected as you chose to portray yourself for the rest of the day, you couldn’t deny that you needed some time alone, away from the scrutinising gazes of your colleagues and the nagging anxiousness within you as you wondered how Jungwoo would react, or why he wasn’t reacting, for that matter.

You glared at the pink waters of the river you sat at, the reflection of the sunset on the waters should’ve calmed you. Maybe it would have, if you weren’t too busy trying to entertain each and every one of your million thoughts.

If you resigned now, people would definitely think it was because of the article. I mean, that was part of the reason, wasn’t it? How suffocating it felt being under Jungwoo’s parents’ control all the time. That wasn’t how you imagined you’d be living your adult life, and it wasn’t how you wanted to be living it either. Unhappy and too afraid to do anything about it.

You would have to tender your resignation for two months, anyway, so you guessed you’d still be able to complete whatever it was you had left to do before you were finally able to leave.

You felt a sudden gust of wind brush against you, the grass and trees beside you rustling at being tossed by the wind.

You glanced at the time on your phone, ignoring the texts and social media notifications that bombarded you, 7:06pm.

Strangely, as you looked at the expanse of open field on the other side of the river, you couldn’t help but feel comforted. If you squinted, it looked just like the park in your hometown. In that realisation, there was a sense of reassurance that came over you.

The reassurance was similar to the words Yuta had shared with you in his car. Maybe you had already decided on what you wanted to do. You were just waiting for the right time to make the decision official.

Jungwoo was the rational choice you made in college that ended you up in this position, that had shaped your character into someone capable of working in an environment like Zeus. You guessed you had him to thank for that. How optimistic he was when you met him, wishing that you would be able to find a job that could give you stability and happiness. Admittedly, at Zeus you did have stability and for a solid four years for that matter. Happiness… not so much.

Jungwoo would understand, right? 

This reassurance you felt was dangerous, you had to admit, it made you feel brave enough to stand up to his parents, something you would’ve done four years ago if you had known all the things they would put you through, perhaps moreso because it made you feel brave enough to take your life into your own hands again. You liked that.

You sighed, fishing in your bag for your notebook and pen, beginning to draft your letter of resignation. Maybe you will thank Jaehyun when you see him on Monday.

===

“Zeus!” you heard one of Jungwoo’s clients practically hooting at him as he was walking past them, the name almost making you flinch as you stood at the podium, waiting for Jungwoo to come up and give his speech.

Stepping down from the podium carefully, you’d gestured for Jungwoo to take his spot at the makeshift podium, not missing the way his hand had grazed your waist as he avoided stepping on your dress, a small mutter of thanks leaving him as he took his place.

You took that as your cue to join the rest of the crowd, taking your place next to Jaehyun, who beckoned you closer as if he wanted to tell you something.

“Jungwoo couldn’t stop staring at you when you were up there,” he teased, earning an eye-roll from you.

“Yeah, it’s called being respectful, idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed, “You look great, though. It’s a really pretty dress.”

You hummed, “Really? Jungwoo bought it for me a few years ago.”

An impressed pout on his lips, Jaehyun nodded, “Man’s got taste, gotta give him that.”

You directed your attention back to Jungwoo, his tone gentle yet firm as he read the words you’d so carefully prepared.

You looked around the room, the sound of Jungwoo’s voice flowing through that section of the gallery, spotting Mark and Yuta standing behind Johnny, scanning the area behind them to see that the rest of the band were there as well. You almost giggled at the (endearing) amount of effort they’d put in to dress well, a stark contrast from their usual attire while performing.

“I’d also like to thank the creative team and Mr Lim from HR for helping to make this opening possible, I’ll definitely go to you for future events,” he spoke, your eyes darting up because you knew you did not include that in the speech.

You didn’t miss the way your boss, said Mr Lim, had gushed, shouting back, “my cheerleaders will be here if you need them!”

You rolled your eyes, tuning out the rest of the speech as you glared at your boss’ back. We’ll see how his ‘cheer team’ does once you resign.

“...may this be the start of a fruitful partnership between us, thank you.”

The sound of clapping and cheering had directed your gaze back to the stage. Jungwoo stepped down from the podium, meeting your gaze with a small smile on his face as he walked towards your table, though he was stopped halfway when his father had beckoned him over to his standing table with a few other friends of his.

“Zeus!” one of the men had greeted Jungwoo, “where’s Hera?” they joked, making Jungwoo laugh, shaking his head.

“She’s over there with her department.”

“Well, call her over! I’d like to meet her,” they insisted, Jungwoo trying to meet your gaze so he could beckon you over.

Finally making eye contact with you as you were finishing your glass of champagne, he’d waved you over, making you set your glass down quickly, starting to make your way over.

Jungwoo’s father leaned over, “How’s the Marketing department doing? One of my friends here was talking about a pretty good marketing strategy, you should set up a meeting with him and your marketing team. It’d be worth your time.”

Jungwoo waited for his dad to get to his real point.

“Did you see Chairman Jung? He brought his daughter. She’s a very sweet girl… it’s not easy making it to where she is, especially at such a young age. She’s only twenty-two and she’s one of the best prosecutors in the city.”

Jungwoo shook his head, keeping his expression stoic in front of his father, “I already told you, if it’s not Y/N, i’m not getting married.”

His father clucked his tongue in distaste, watching as you grew closer to the table.

“Why are you so stubborn about this? You’re not getting any younger, you know? The least you could do is try to meet some of the girls. Knowing you, you’ll keep dragging it out until you have no more options. You’re wasting your time on people you could do much better without,” he murmured harshly.

“Y/N’s a good girl, dad. I’ve been with her for a long time now. I mean it when I say I don’t see myself getting married if it’s not to her,” Jungwoo murmured, the polite smile on his face making it look as though he and his father were having the best time talking.

You wondered what they were talking about, especially as you’d reached the table and been welcomed by the men so quickly, all of them gushing over your dress and telling you how gorgeous you looked.

“There are many ‘good girls’, son. Don’t knock the idea just yet. In my eyes, you’re single unless you’re married.”

Jungwoo straightened up, his hand finding your waist quickly, his thumb rubbing your waist soothingly.

“Zeus, if I was with such a gorgeous young lady, I would’ve sealed the deal a long time ago,” one of the directors had chuckled, making you laugh nervously.

“He’s planning to soon, right son?”

Jungwoo nodded, “That’s right.” He cast you a glance, the calm, confident smile on his face making your thoughts spiral.

You weren’t sure what bothered you more, the presumptuous comments from the directors or the way Jungwoo was acting as if you were already engaged.

“Smart move, I can imagine how many suitors she has. Young, sweet girl. It’d be nice to work with a woman like that supporting you,” another man had added, Jungwoo giving your waist a small squeeze, almost making you shy away from his touch.

“I’d be more than happy to have someone like Y/N supporting me as well,” Jungwoo smiled.

“You’re a lucky girl, doll,” one of the directors had told you, “Bet there’s a thousand girls who’d kill to be you.”

You wanted to puke. If anything, you would love for them to take your place, you doubt you could tolerate Zeus’ work environment much longer, each word from the Chairman’s friends making your stomach churn.

You’d followed Jungwoo to walk around and greet the other guests, spotting Mark and Johnny retrieving more champagne from one of the waiters.

“Hey, can we go say ‘hi’ to Mark? You haven’t spoken to him in a while right?”

Jungwoo shot you a look as if asking if you were serious.

“He’s with Yuta, I don't think it’s a good idea,” he murmured gently.

“Oh,” you tried not to sound disappointed, understanding that it would’ve caused more gossip to surface if the three of you were seen together.

So you’d continued. As the night went on, Jungwoo’s hands had never left you, as though he were trying to show that you were his partner. Ironic, it was, considering he barely acknowledged you at work.

The more people you’d greeted, the more you’d felt like the person you were with just wasn’t quite Jungwoo. The fake smile plastered on his face and his readiness to entertain their inappropriate jokes about you, not to mention the way it seemed like his name had become almost synonymous with ‘Zeus’. It was all making you uncomfortable, and you’d wanted nothing more but to simply go home.

You reached out a hand to tug on Jungwoo’s fingers, his head leaning down to hear you better.

“Can we get going soon? I’m kind of tired,” you told him, a small yawn leaving you just as you said it.

Clearly enjoying himself in such a setting, Jungwoo almost looked disappointed, but nodded nonetheless, already beginning to guide you towards the exit.

Meeting his chauffeur outside the gallery, you’d exchanged a passing glance with Yuta, the boy simply staring as you were pulled towards the car by Jungwoo.

Once you’d entered, you slumped in your seat, shutting your eyes and already getting comfortable for the moderately long drive home.

“Could you put the partition up, please?” Jungwoo muttered, the low whirring sounding until there was a small click.

“Thanks,” you murmured, tensing up when you’d felt Jungwoo pull you closer to him.

Leaning down, you heard him murmur, “It’s been a while since you wore this dress.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, too tired to form a proper response.

“Made me realise how much i’ve been neglecting the fact that I have such a beautiful woman with me,” he huffed, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek, another one at your jaw, trailing down to your neck.

“Jungwoo,” you began, interrupted when he’d pressed an urgent kiss to your lips, one of his hands at the back of your neck.

It felt weird. You knew you enjoyed the giddy feeling you would get when you kissed Jungwoo, or well, you used to at least. But there was none of that in the kiss you just shared, it made you feel yucky, the situation itself was uncomfortable. Something about it wasn’t right.

Pulling away, he’d trailed kisses down your neck.

“When’s the last time I kissed you? Maybe I should do it more often.”

“Are you just saying this because of what the directors were saying?” you sighed, opening your eyes to cast him a pointed look.

Jungwoo scoffed, smiling at you, “Of course not, just thought we could both use some stress relief. Especially since all that’s over,” he told you casually, his hand making its way to your thigh, slipping under the skirt of your dress and massaging the skin at your thigh.

Your hand moved to grab his, trying to halt his actions.

“That’s all this is? Stress relief?”

Jungwoo looked confused, speaking between kisses, “What else do you want it to be?”

You sighed, “Of course, I want it to be more than ‘stress relief’. This is ridiculous, you don’t acknowledge me at all in the office and then suddenly now just because you’re in front of your stupid friends—”

“There are people listening, Y/N,” he warned in a low tone, making your frustration build.

“I don’t care if they’re listening. They can transcribe this conversation for all I care. Don’t you see how suffocating it is to always have to put on a front for everybody? That’s including you, you know? I can’t even tell you how I feel without you trying to make everything PC,” you were frustrated now, Jungwoo’s hands on your thigh and his kisses halting, seeing him eyeing you with a thoughtful look in his gaze.

“Well, you don’t seem very suffocated, with all your outings with Yuta.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Why are you bringing that up? You told me you never had a problem with it.”

Jungwoo scoffed, “that’s because it was never a problem until now!”

Glancing outside the window, you could faintly see the buildings on the corner of your street.

You shoved his hands off of you, folding your arms and waiting for the car to pull up at your shared apartment, with you stepping out first and Jungwoo quietly following after you. You’d both continued trudging in silence to your apartment, the shutting of the door and the whirring of the automated lock echoing in the narrow walkway.

“We’re not finished talking,” you told him sternly, seeing him making his way to your bedroom, your statement making him walk back out to meet you at the kitchen counter.

That was when you noticed it. The absence of a vase on the counter.

“What did you do to my flowers?” you murmured.

Jungwoo shrugged, “I threw them out.”

Your features pinched with annoyance, “Why would you do that? They were lasting so long,” you groaned.

Casting you a skeptical look, “You want my honest answer?”

“Well, obviously I don’t want you to lie to my face, do I?” You snapped, Jungwoo almost taken aback by your words.

It’d been a while since he’d seen you like this, the last time being when you’d gotten into a fight with one of Yuta’s soccer team upperclassmen that was giving him shit. Again, Yuta.

“Fine,” Jungwoo raised his hands in surrender, “I threw them out ‘cause I was mad.”

“Mad? Mad about what? The article?” You frowned, “You of all people should know who was behind that.”

“Yes, I was mad about the article. I was mad that one night with Yuta was all it took for us to start fighting again. Was that why you’ve been acting so weird recently? You haven’t been yourself at work, and don’t think I didn’t see your resignation—”

“You were looking in my bag?”

Jungwoo let out an exasperated sigh, “Yes. I was, because I can’t trust you these days. Not with how you keep giving me reasons not to trust you.”

He knew it wasn’t him talking at this point, he’d learnt it best from his parents. How manipulative they had been, turning everything that possibly went wrong against him.

You were at a loss for words, unable to comprehend how things managed to get so ridiculous so quickly.

“Admit it. It’s because of Yuta, isn’t it?” He prodded, his words prickly and irritating you to no end.

“No, this is about you. This is all about you. It didn’t take just one night with Yuta, Jungwoo. It took four years with you to realise It’s about how you’ve been treating me like shit ever since you let your parents and precious Zeus groom you into this… into this asshole.”

Your fists were balled at your sides, the fabric of your dress starting to make you feel as though you couldn’t breathe, your vision starting to blur as you felt that wave of reassurance take over you again, already opening your mouth to speak.

“I want to break up.”

You slumped down onto the floor, your back against the wall as you let yourself cry, immense relief flooding you that you'd finally managed to get that off your chest. Jungwoo’s eyes had glazed over, sitting halfway on one of the counter stools, his fingers fidgety and his mind full of thoughts.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, and neither was Jungwoo. But the traffic downstairs had grown quiet and your tears were dried on your face by the time Jungwoo had chosen to speak, his voice slightly hoarse, “Me too.”

Jungwoo stood up slowly, making his way over to the fridge and taking out two cans of beer, walking over to you and handing you one, sitting next to you with a sigh. This time, you’d gladly let him drape an arm around your shoulder, feeling his head rest against yours.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“I was thinking about it,” he continued, bringing the hand holding his beer up to wipe his tears with the back of his hand, “and I realised, I was just scared of what my parents would do… you know, if we really did decide to break up. I mean, you were someone I got to choose myself, without their interference. You were someone I was comfortable with, and cared for me even when I was acting like a dick. I just… didn’t want them to just pawn me off to one of their business partner’s daughters, so I… tried to force us to work. Even if we did… you know, stop working a long time ago.”

Your lips pursed, trying to contain your tears.

“I’m sorry about what I said about your resignation when you asked me that day. I mean, I mostly said it because I knew my parents weren’t gonna take it well if they found out but… I’ll make sure they don’t try anything on you. I’m… just, I’m just really sorry for letting you take their hits on my behalf.”

Your lower lip had started to quiver as the rate of tears spilling from your eyes had increased, “apologize for Mr Lim too.”

Jungwoo let out a small huff of laughter, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding?” you brought a hand up to swipe at your tears, not being able to help yourself from laughing either, “of course, I am.”

You were sure if anyone else had seen the two of you, they would’ve had many questions, maybe even disbelief that Jungwoo would be willing to apologize and see what he did wrong. But you knew Jungwoo, you knew how he dealt with conflict. All he’d done to you were just manifestations of how his own parents dealt with him. Maybe that was why he’d chosen to avoid it for so long, because he knew that he was stuck in a loveless relationship too, and that there wouldn’t be any saving it when push comes to shove. You didn’t deserve that, no one does.

Before today, whenever you’d pictured what it would be like to break up with Jungwoo, you’d always imagined that you’d finally be able to dramatically tell him about all the times he’d done you wrong, every little incident that pricked at your heart till the day itself. But strangely, there was no urge to do that now as you sat with him, nursing your beer. You were just glad that it seemed you were both on the same page for once.

You’d continued to talk, relishing in one of the first proper conversations you were able to share with him in a long time. Even if you both looked like absolute wrecks, you had to admit, it felt good. And Jungwoo thought so too.

“Can I ask you something, though?” Jungwoo asked, his cheeks already flushed from the beer (he’d always been a lightweight).

“Yeah, go ahead,” you shrugged.

Jungwoo pressed his lips into a firm line, “What kind of uh… you know, what do you look for in a partner?”

You giggled, “Why? Are you trying to matchmake me already?”

Jungwoo shook his head, flustered as he smiled, “Just describe it, I’m curious.”

You hummed, “Well… I’d like someone funny, that I can have fun with… someone who’s considerate, who I can talk to freely and who isn’t afraid to communicate when we fight… someone who supports me… it’d be nice if they have some of the same interests as me? Like shows or whatever, it’d be fun to watch things together...I guess, someone who pushes me to do what makes me happy too?” you cast a sideways glance at Jungwoo, the look on his face making you feel embarrassed, “I don’t know, okay? I’ve never thought about this before.”

One hand coming up to cover his mouth, Jungwoo had poorly stifled his smile, the sight of his amusement only making you even more flustered.

“What’s so funny?” you scoffed.

Jungwoo shook his head, “No, it’s just… don’t kill me for saying this but you kind of just described how Yuta treats you.”

“Did I? No, I didn’t.”

“You totally did.”

You huffed, “Let me just enjoy tonight peacefully, I’d rather not think about that right now.”

“It’s not a bad thing, you know,” he told you simply, “I mean, It’s not a secret that he’s someone you can depend on. I’m sure he’d treat you a lot better than I ever could.”

You frowned, a small pout on your lips.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned.

Jungwoo shook his head, “It’s okay, It’s true.”

You let a short silence fall between the both of you, the sound of Jungwoo’s fingernails tapping against the metal can filling the absence of words spoken.

“Just… think about it, okay? Literally anyone can see that he’s into you.”

You grimaced, “This is weird, I feel weird talking to my ex about my best friend.”

Jungwoo rolled his eyes, taking another long sip of his beer.

“That’s life for you.”

You’d gotten a text from Yuta then, Jungwoo peeking over your shoulder to read it.

Yuta 12:20am -  r you ok? u looked rly tired jn- 2:19am -im guessing ure sleeping now but if u need anything just text me-

“Told you,” Jungwoo shrugged nonchalantly, making you roll your eyes.

You sighed deeply.

“What are we gonna do now?” you let out yet another sigh.

“Stop sighing, we’ll be fine,” Jungwoo told you with a laugh, “I can move out of here, get my own apartment… you can keep this one.”

You scrunched your nose up, “Sounds about right, it’s under my name, anyway. But what about you? Aren’t your parents gonna try to marry you off as soon as they can now?”

Jungwoo shrugged, “Probably. But I don’t think I will get married… just, not really interested.”

“You’d better make that clear to them. Knowing them, they’ve already got a list of brides lined up,” you laughed at the horror in his expression.

Standing up with a grunt, Jungwoo held a hand out to you, “Let’s go wash up. We’ll settle all the details tomorrow.”

You nodded, taking his hand and standing up as well, Jungwoo shocking you when he’d pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you, you know, for being so patient and understanding with me… I know I didn’t deserve it,” he murmured softly.

You huffed, nodding, “I would say you got lucky, but I know you’re being serious. So, yes, I know.”

That night, when you were both in bed, this time you were lying on your backs and trying to sleep while knowing fully well you couldn’t.

Jungwoo sighed, hoping you were awake.

“Y/N?” he tried, relieved when he heard your hum of acknowledgement.

Jungwoo pursed his lips, “Again, I know sorry won’t change the fact that I hurt you, but I really am sorry that I didn’t stand up for you… all those times when I should have.”

You nodded, turning to look at the blue moonlight peeking through the curtains and casting shadows on your bed.

“Jungwoo, just…” you spoke suddenly, “stop letting them step all over you. Zeus is almost yours for God’s sake, if you don’t want to be their puppet then stop acting like one.”

Jungwoo smiled, “Yes, ma’am.”

===

When do you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with someone? 

You didn’t assume it would happen in an instant, much less when you were squeezed in the middle of the sweaty crowd of a music festival.

As cliché as it sounded, it came when you least expected it. And you meant that in the most literal way. Because you’d never expected that it would be when you were standing there, gaze fixed on a smiley Yuta, hair recently bleached blonde and sporting a dark haired undercut, teasing the crowd as he played a riff of ‘Kanzen Kankaku Dreamer’, Haechan catching along and singing a quick bit of the chorus.

You didn’t know that looking at him having fun on stage, his smile exuding pure happiness, would be what made you realise that you wanted to be around him for as long as you were alive.

Performing in front of fifty thousand people wasn’t easy, but he made it look like it was with how easily he engaged the crowd. His happiness, and those of the rest of the band, was infectious, so much so that you allowed yourself to let loose, enjoying yourself fully even despite Jaehyun’s constant effort to remain chic next to you and Jungwoo trying not to get shoved around by the crowd.

“He’s really good,” Jungwoo shouted over the noise of the crowd while Yuta was singing, earning a giddy nod from you.

“You should tell him that yourself!” you told him with a smile, making Jungwoo laugh, stumbling at a sudden push from behind him.

“I’d like to, but I have a feeling he still doesn’t like me very much.”

Maybe Jungwoo was right, because once the festival was over and you had all gone to find the band, Yuta had shot you a grin when he’d spotted you, only to revert to a glare once he’d seen who was walking behind you.

Giving you a hug in greeting, Yuta let one of his arms drape around your shoulder.

“What’s he doing here?” he was practically glaring at Jungwoo, who stood awkwardly before Yuta.

“Yo, dude you made it!” Mark called out from behind Yuta, coming over to greet Jungwoo.

“Sorry, hope you don’t mind that I invited him,” Mark told his very disgruntled band member with a sheepish smile.

“Jungwoo has something he wants to tell you,” you shot a pointed look at Jungwoo, raising your eyebrows as if telling him that now was his cue.

Yuta took his arm from your shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Jungwoo with evident contempt in his gaze, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Jungwoo smiled, “I wanted to tell you that you played really well just now, your singing is really good too,” he let out a little laugh in his anxiousness.

“Yeah, I know,” Yuta muttered, apathy in his tone.

You nudged him in the side harshly, “C’mon, don’t be mean.”

Yuta gave you a skeptical look, lips parting in shock.

“You’re seriously defending him?”

Mark let out a low whistle, “Someone’s jealous,” stopping his giggles quickly at the glare Yuta sent his way.

Noticing the knowing look Jungwoo sent your way, you shook your head, thankful that Yuta was just as eager as you to change the subject.

“Whatever. I’m hungry, let’s go for dinner.”  

After your realisation during the music festival, it was like something had shifted. It was like the weight of the words you’d told Jungwoo when describing the qualities you wanted in a partner had grown stronger and were being revealed to you, slowly but surely.

You hadn’t felt it as strongly before, but it was as if it had made you hyperaware of your heart, the way its beats would quicken when Yuta would lean over you to grab something from the far side of the table, or the way it slowed down nearing the end of the dinner when you leaned your head on his shoulder in your little food coma, or the way it stirred when he took his jacket off to drape it over your shoulders just as you thought it was getting a little too cold.

“Are you excited?” Jeno had asked you as you all waited for Haechan to settle the payment, his sudden statement making you glance around you, wondering what it was in your environment that you would’ve been excited about (It was your fault for not paying attention to the conversation, you were too busy watching Yuta finish the maze on the kids menu), “you know, it’s like what… less than a week till you end your job, right?”

Oh, that. 

You nodded, “Yeah, it is. I mean I am excited, definitely. A little nervous but your girlfriend’s definitely been a very big help,” you shot a look at Mark, who visibly flushed.

“She’s not my girlfriend…”

“Yet,” Lucas chimed in with a giggle, enjoying the sight of a flustered Mark.

Yuta was leant against the corner of the booth, looking at you with a small smile on his face as the boys had discussed a congratulatory party for your career switch, Jungwoo chiming in and saying that he could help to arrange it.

You were glad to see him starting to connect with his friends again. Though it’d been almost two months since the both of you broke up, it was nice to see that he was actively working on himself, seeking help and trying to be a better friend and leader (even if it’d taken him a month to set ground rules with his mom, one of which included letting him attend therapy sessions). Though he had definitely changed over the years, and some things were less likely to change, like his business mentality and his cynicism, you figured you were still glad that he was trying for everything else.

Turning to Yuta in the midst of all the discussion, you raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was looking at you like that, the slow smile he gave you and the unreadable look in his eyes was almost...endearing.

“What? Are you tipsy?” you glanced at his cup, seeing that he was indeed not drunk, his glass still a quarter filled with coke.

He simply shook his head at you, “Nope. Just… happy for you.”

You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart had swelled with happiness, urging yourself to snap out of it.

“We should write a song for you!” Lucas chimed in excitedly, almost knocking over his glass with his abrupt movements.

“Let’s ask Yuta, he’s got plenty of experience, right Yu?” Haechan, back from making the payment, had drawled, eyeing Yuta with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, “Experience? Dammit, I knew you dated around.”

Yuta scoffed, “I didn’t ‘date around’.”

“You totally did! Or well, at least you had crushes.”

Mark snickered, and you missed the glance he exchanged with Haechan. Jeno pretended to be nonchalant as he started to hum the tune to the chorus of Too Much Time Together. 

Yuta stood up abruptly, casting a sideways glare at Jungwoo when a poorly stifled chortle had escaped the said boy, “We should start heading back now.”

You’d walked beside Yuta as the group of you made your way out of the quaint restaurant, Yuta’s car parked next to Jungwoos.

“Y/N, do you need a ride home or..?” Jungwoo asked you, only to get interrupted by Yuta, who’d squeezed himself in between the both of you with an unapologetic smile on his face.

“I’ll send her home, thank you very much.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way Jaehyun had snickered, his tone almost identical to Mark’s as he drawled, “Someone’s jealous.”

“Shut up, Jaehyun,” Yuta clipped back just as quickly, taking your hand and beginning to pull you towards his car, leaving you to wave your goodbyes quickly before practically being shoved into the passenger’s seat, the boys sending teasing statements Yuta’s way.

“You’re insane,” you laughed, earning a grunt from Yuta.

“I’m sorry, what? Can’t hear you, too many crazy people outside the car,” Yuta feigned nonchalance, already beginning to drive out.

“Hey, can I hang at your place for a while? Don’t really feel like going home yet,” you yawned, seeing him nod.

“Yeah, of course you can.”

You leaned over to switch the radio channels, eventually deciding on going without the radio since it was a short drive to Yuta’s apartment.

“I still don’t believe that you didn’t date around,” you voiced out your thoughts, amused at the groan Yuta had given you in response.

Yuta rolled his eyes, “Is it that hard to believe? I was pretty focused on my studies, okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your laugh cut short at the sharp turn Yuta had taken as he entered his street, “drive carefully, idiot. But yes, I don’t believe you. C’mon, not even like one relationship?”

He shrugged, “Nothing serious, at least.”

You looked at him in disbelief, Yuta too focused on parallel parking to pay you any heed.

“You’re kidding… so you’re saying that since college the furthest you’ve gone is a talking stage?”

Yuta nodded.

You gasped, “Well, who did you like the most? Wait, wait, no don’t tell me. I wanna guess myself…” you hummed as you thought out loud,  “who were you the most whipped for?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, putting the car into park and stepping out, waiting for you to get out of the car as he walked into the lobby, pressing the lift button and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Can I have a clue, at least?”

Yuta snorted, “Yeah, she’s pretty clueless.”

You hummed, “Oh, I don’t know many girls from college that we know… most of my friends knew you but I don’t think they actually talked to you…” With how seriously you were considering it, you would’ve thought you weren’t trying very hard on purpose, a part of you not wanting to imagine Yuta with one of your friends.

“Uh… is she my age? Have you ever written a song about her?”

Yuta stalked past you, unlocking his apartment with ease as you trailed behind him in your pensive silence.

“Yes to both questions,” he held the door open for you and you walked in, though this time, you saw the way he’d fiddled with the thermostat, making it slightly warmer for you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, momentarily distracted from your guessing game.

Yuta hummed, confusion written over his features before he saw you pointing at the thermostat, his mouth forming a little ‘o’.

“Oh, you don’t like the cold,” he said simply, walking over to his fridge to pour you and himself a glass of ice water, handing one to you before going over to his sofa.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, you shrugged off his jacket, hanging it at the coat rack and removing your shoes, meeting him at his sofa.

“Oh my God, I know. It’s definitely the girl you wrote ‘Too Much Time Together’ for,” you suddenly announced, a eureka moment of sorts that made Yuta sputter around his mouthful of water, “I mean, you said you wanted to be with them forever. If that doesn’t show that you were down bad, I don’t know what does.”

Yuta had an unreadable expression on his face, wondering if this was the universe’s way of giving him an opportunity to make his feelings known to you.

“Yeah, it was her,” he told you simply, hating how breathless he sounded.

You cheered, enjoying your momentary triumph, “Okay, so… you definitely met her in college.”

“Met her long before that.”

“You did? Then why didn’t you do anything?” You were momentarily distracted, taking your newfound information and sending a text to Lucas to ask if he remembered any girls Yuta hung out with during college.

Yuta shrugged, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from you to stare into his cup, shrugging, “Missed my chance. Didn’t realise I had feelings for her until she started dating this asshole so I figured I shouldn’t get myself involved.”

Your eyes widened, “No way, do I know the asshole?”

Yuta’s eyebrows raised, unsure whether to be amused that you had no idea you were talking about yourself.

Nodding, he pressed his lips into a firm line in a poor effort to contain his smile, “Yeah, you know him. Behaves exactly like Jungwoo.”

You’d straightened up at that, your thoughts temporarily diverted from Yuta’s college crush, “About that. You should try to understand Jungwoo more. Stop being so mean to him, you can tell he’s really trying to improve.”

“I’m humbling him,” Yuta shrugged, switching channels as he tried to find the movie he wanted you to watch.

“Yuta, I’m being serious,” you said, a little more firmly this time.

Yuta halted his channel surfing, setting the remote down next to him before narrowing his eyes at you, “You’re seriously defending him? You can’t be serious. What are you, his mom?” he scoffed, making you roll your eyes.

You clucked your tongue in annoyance, “I already said I was being serious. Yes, yes, I'm ‘seriously’ defending him. Take just now, for example, you could’ve just said thanks when he complimented your performance, but you were being a total dick about it!” you frowned.

Your persuasion seemed to have struck a nerve with Yuta, the boy’s eyebrows knitting into a frown as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“Why are you so protective over him?”

You scoffed, “You’re not actually gonna pull that ‘what about me?’ bullshit now, right? I know the guys were saying that you were jealous but are you actually jealous? Just because I’m asking you to be less… abrasive with your words towards Jungwoo?”

Yuta let out an exasperated huff, figuring that even if it wasn’t the universe giving him signs, he couldn’t stop himself from his next words.

“So what if I’m jealous? You already know I don’t like him. Maybe I’d even go as far as to say I hate him, but it’s not because of what you think, that’s for sure.” he started, taking in a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

“Okay, fine, why do you hate him so much, then? His family? What his company does?”

Yuta poked his tongue in his cheek, shaking his head, “Y/N, I really couldn’t give a shit about his job, or his family, or his money, or his million connections on linkedin. I hate him because I hate the fact that for four years he had you to come home to every single day, and even though he had that, he wasn’t good to you.”

Yuta’s gaze was intent, even as he watched a flash of realisation in your eyes, your lips parting slightly.

“I can’t forgive him for that… at least not yet. Do you think it was fun to watch? How you were always second guessing his feelings for you, how he would hurt your feelings and you would just suck it up and say it ‘wasn’t him talking’. Because it sucked.”

You huffed, “You weren’t there for the worst of it, anyway… you were on your exchange trip in college. We barely managed to align our schedules to call each other. The only contact I had with you was that letter and postcard you sent me.”

The look on Yuta’s face was purely incredulous, not knowing whether to laugh or grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you.

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” he huffed, the frown on your face only serving to surprise him more. You really were clueless.

“Figured out what?” you clipped back in annoyance.

“When do you think the song was written?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding where he was going with this, your mind still reeling from trying to figure out whether you actually wanted to know who the song was about. You didn’t think you’d be able to like the song much afterwards.

“You said you wrote it when you were on exchange, right?” you frowned.

“Yeah, our second year of college. C’mon, just think, Y/N. What else happened to you that year?” he prompted.

“I…” you began, not being able to think of anything momentous that happened to you that year, “I can’t think of anything. All I know is that that’s when I got together with Jungwoo…”

You stopped yourself, your heart sinking when you realised. That was when you’d started dating Jungwoo. 

As if guided by divine timing, you’d received your reply from Lucas.

Lucas 9:39pm -??? He literally only hung out with you and the band LOL, and johnny ig- 

“So…” you paused, trying to find your words as you only managed to blink dumbly at him, “Jungwoo’s the asshole?”

Yuta stifled a laugh, nodding.

“You don’t seem shocked,” you blurted, immediately regretting your words, finding no logic behind them.

Yuta’s eyebrows raised in question, smirking at you, “Should I be shocked about my own crush?”

You couldn’t describe what you were feeling. You wanted to say you were glad, but should you have been glad that he wrote a song about you? Especially a song like that?

“But you got over it, right? Did you?” you dared to ask.

Yuta scrunched his nose up, shaking his head, “Don’t kill me for saying this but… I thought I did, but… I don’t think I really… did.”

Your lack of a response had only made Yuta sigh.

“If you’re worried about the state of our friendship, it’s fine, we can just pretend nothing happened and that I never said anything—”

“No, no,” you cut him off, wincing at how you’d done so a little too quickly, “I mean. I’m not like… worried. Okay, maybe I am, I don’t know. I’m feeling a lot of things right now.”

Yuta, calm as ever, had simply rested his arm on the back of his sofa, supporting his head with his palm as he looked at you, a hint of amusement in the curve of his lips. “Like what?”

You opened your mouth to speak only to shut it again just as quickly, tilting your head as you averted your gaze, “... For some… odd reason… I feel… I’m kind of glad you still feel that way.”

Yuta nodded slowly, “You are?”

You nodded, flushing in embarrassment, “Yeah… because… I don’t know, I think… I think I feel the same way too, but I’m not sure.”

It wasn’t as if you could press a confirmation button on your feelings, could you? You didn’t mean that. You knew you liked him. You’d just so happened to have grown to become more passive in your speech, something Yuta realised was an after-effect of working at Zeus.

“I take that back, I mean—”

Reaching out a hand to grasp yours gently, Yuta let out a small huff of laughter, “So, you’re sure? Or you’re still not sure?”

Giving your hand a gentle tug, you were surprised with the way you’d moved so fluidly, letting Yuta pull you towards him, so you were balanced on your knees, with his face barely inches away from yours.

“Do you need a confirmation?” he murmured, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. You were almost embarrassed from what you were feeling.

Something about the warmth of his touch, to the way you’d felt sick but in the best possible way, the anxious beating of your heart as you wondered just how you’d ended up like this, yet not regretting it in the least bit.

It was like your body was moving on autopilot, judging from the ease with which you’d let your eyes flutter closed when you felt his hand gently cup the side of your face, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek and eliciting a soft sigh from you.

You could only manage a nod, Yuta not wasting any time to let one of his hands find its way to your hip, supporting you as he leaned forward to close the gap between the both of you.

It started off slow, delicate, as though the both of you were trying to exercise a certain level of restraint. Though you felt it almost impossible, not with the way his kiss made you feel like it was your very first, not even minding when he tucked your hair away from your face, the warmth spreading through your cheeks and making them feel hotter than they already were.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, the fabric of his too-big muscle tee sliding down to expose his collarbone with your movements. A small sound of surprise left you when he’d let his teeth graze over your lower lip just slightly, one hand coming up to move your hand resting on his shoulder to bring it up to cup his face, deciding to take the liberty to run it through his hair, the stirring in your heart only worsening when you’d felt him smile against your lips.

Feeling one of his hands move from your hip to touch the skin of your thigh, you’d finally pulled away, breathless and giddy, his forehead resting against yours while you caught your breath. Separating just slightly as you tried to gather your thoughts, his smooth caressing of the skin on your thigh making your head spin.

That was more than enough of a confirmation for you.

“I was stupid…” Yuta began, his tongue peeking out to lick at his lips as you absently ran your hands through his hair again, the smile on his face after you did so almost affirming you for your actions, “to think that being friends with you was enough.”

“Was that why you wrote that in the song? That you wanted to be with me forever?”

He nodded, a zoned out look in his eyes as he looked at you, giddy with love for you as well, “And I do, I really do.” You’d felt his other hand move from your waist to your hips, finding your hand to interlock your fingers absently as if he’d done it a million times.

And he has, but this time was different.

“Not platonically?” you asked, though it came out as more of a statement than a question.

The smile he gave you in return was all you needed.

He shook his head, “No. In the most romantic way possible.”

===

You ended work early today, considering it was your last day of work. Parties and going-away dinners from previous days having tired you out, but in a good way. You’d spotted Jungwoo’s parents while you were on your way out from the office just now, and though they barely acknowledged you, it felt good not to be acknowledged by them for once. It just made the reality of you finally leaving this office feel a whole lot more.. well, real.

Johnny was a wreck, to say the least, claiming that now he had no one to share his ‘desk soju’ with (much to Jaehyun’s dismay), but it was fine, it wasn’t as if he didn’t hang out with Yuta’s band every other weekend.

Somehow, in the process of trying to get used to the fact that you wouldn’t have to walk through the cold, unwelcoming walls of Zeus Global Enterprises anymore, you’d let yourself wander back to the little park that you’d grown fond of overtime, finding yourself seated in the middle of the grass enjoying the cold for once (even though it made goosebumps rise on your skin).

You glanced at the time, just a little over seven in the evening.

Perhaps the reason why you liked this time of the day so much was because it was like an ending of sorts. When things slowed down, your heart slowed down along with it. It reminded you of when you would finish soccer practice, and your heart would be thrumming wildly with all the running you done and excitement you’d felt, the only thing on your mind being the hope that your mom would show up to pick you up.

And whenever you saw her, that was just how it was. Your heart slowed down, an overwhelming sense of relief would wash over you. All from the promise of comfort.

Yuta just so happened to come along with it.

“Excuse me, ma’am. You’re not allowed to be within 2 metres of the river, it’s not safe.”

Jumping at the sudden intrusion, you’d turned quickly, relaxing when you’d spotted none other than Yuta, picnic basket in hand and his phone in the other that waved at you.

“How’d you know I was here?” you laughed, watching as he’d laid out an unnecessarily big picnic mat next to where you were, holding the edges down with his shoes and phone.

“Of course I knew where you’d be. You’re my best friend,” he smiled, beckoning you over to sit on the mat.

“C’mere, your clothes will get dirty.”

Sitting on the mat, you pursed your lips as Yuta sprawled himself onto the mat, bringing his arm up to support his head as he lay on his back.

Looking in the picnic basket, you’d wanted to laugh at what you saw. Gummy packets and Yuta’s favourite snacks, bottles of soda and a single can of beer.

Yuta held a hand to cover the opening of the picnic basket to get your attention, “I haven’t done groceries for the week yet, take it or leave it.”

You scoffed, fishing out a bag of gummies and tearing it open, mentally debating whether it would be a good idea to lie with him.

As if reading your mind, he’d huffed.

“You can still lay by me in public, you know. It’s not like it’s gonna kill you.”

You relaxed visibly, leaning back against the inclined patch of grass, enjoying the sunset as it started to change colour.

“What’s the special occasion? Is it ‘cause it’s my last day?”

Yuta shrugged, “Partly... But, I just… felt like being here with you.”

You couldn’t help the smile from your face.

“The sunset is really pretty, I can understand why you come here so much,” he murmured.

“Do you remember? When we used to hang out after soccer practice?” you prompted, “kind of reminds me of that… the sunsets back home were always so pretty.”

Yuta nodded, a small smile making its way on his features.

“You know, I don’t know when it started, but… whenever I saw a sunset like this, it made me think of you,” he confessed, lost in the way the sky had begun to turn purplish.

You smiled, thinking back to all the pictures of the sunset he’d sent you from his times in exchange, from when he was touring, even on normal days, how much comfort it brought you. That was it, wasn’t it? The comfort you found in something as simple as colours in a sky that was so far from you, yet so close to your heart.

“That’s very touching,” you teased, turning to watch as Yuta scoffed.

“Fine, I take it back. I just thought you were a nerd for sunsets.”

You laughed at that, Yuta turning to you with a smile of his own, feigning annoyance before he pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest.

Like you said, you loved this time of the day, this sky that brought you comfort. Most of all, you loved Yuta, who just… happened to come along with it.

[noforkingclue]

Hello hello hello, are the 600 followers (consider me part of the gang now) requests still active? If you please, I'd like to throw my beloved Billy Butcher with angst nr. 8 into the ring. Or 16. I suck at decisions. 😅 If reader-insert is an option, then reader as caretaker. Thanks in advance!

Welcome to the gang!

I put both of the prompts in because I love writing angst! Hope you like it :D

Prompt 8, angst: “Is that blood?” “…..No?”

Prompt 16, angst: “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

You had stayed up late waiting for Butcher to return. MM had told you that there was no point in waiting up and to get some sleep but you couldn’t knowing that Butcher was out there and possibly hurt. You looked up sharply when you heard familiar heavy footsteps come down the steps. When Butcher reached the bottom of the staircase he looked at you in mild shock.

“You should be asleep.” He said as a greeting

“So should you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he grunted, “Can look after myself.”

“As can I.”

Butcher gave you a hard look but you refused to back down. As you walked closer to him your breath hitched when you could clearly see him.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Butcher pushed passed you and ignored the pleading look on your face, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course I worry about you Butcher,” you said firmly, “You’re my friend and I came along as a doctor. Don’t try and bullshit me because it doesn’t work. Let me check you over.”

You didn’t see the way Butcher winced when you said ‘friend’. He sighed and looked over his shoulder.

“You’re not going to leave me alone I agree.”

“Yep.”

“Fine. But make it quick.”

Butcher sat down on the old sofa and you quickly joined his. You didn’t notice the way he tensed when you pushed his coat off of his shoulder but you gasped when you saw his blood stained shirt. You looked up at him with scowl on your face as Butcher avoided eye contact.

“Is that blood?”

“… No?”

“Don’t lie to me Butcher,” you took out your medical kit and pulled out the disinfectant, “You know how I feel when people don’t tell me about their wounds. What happened if this became infected? Then what?”

“Relax. It’s not serious.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Now take your shirt off.”

In all the situations Butcher imagined you telling him to take his shirt off this one hadn’t crossed his mind. He winced as he tried to raise his arm and you and gently swatted away his hands.

“Let me.” You said

Butcher watched you intently as you undid the buttons on his shirt and you felt yourself get hot under his intense stare. It wasn’t a though you hadn’t seen him shirtless before, you’d seen every one of the guys shirtless so it wasn’t anything new, but this held a certain intimacy about it. It was probably because it was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep. There wasn’t anyone else talking or distracting you from the situation. But right now there was no other escape from how close you were to Butcher or the dark intent in his eyes. You grabbed the bottle and poured a bit onto some cotton wool and gently dabbed it on. Butcher hissed in pain and you said,

“Careful. The pain shows that it’s working.”

“Still fucking hurts.”

You looked and the wound and sighed in relief.

“It’s not deep,” you commented, “Which is lucky.”

“So what the fuck was all of this for?”

“I still needed to clean it,” you said, “Infection remember? Now let me bandage it then get some sleep.”

“Whatever you say doc.”

Your lips twitched at the nickname as you grabbed the bandages and started wrapping Butcher’s arm. You shifted awkwardly under his gaze and you wished that you had taken MM’s advice and had gone to sleep.

“Y/n.”

You refused to make eye contact with Butcher, afraid of what might happen.

“Look at me.”

There was a command in Butcher’s voice. A tone that told you he wasn’t used to being disobeyed. Slowly you looked up at him and he smiled.

“You’re always looking out for us doc.”

“Well someone has to.”

Butcher’s hand closed around yours and you exhaled deeply through your nose. You knew this shouldn’t be happening but a part of you didn’t want it to stop.

“I feel like I never really showed you how much you mean to me.”

“You guys-“

“To me,” Butcher interrupted, “Not just to everyone but to me.”

You stared at him for a moment for realisation hit you. Butcher rested his forehead against yours and the part of you that wanted to pull away disappeared. You wanted this and you never wanted this moment to end.

“Thank you.” He said quietly

“It’s my-“

“For everything. Not just patching us up when we’ve been stupid cunts and gotten hurt but just for being there for me.”

“Don’t mention it, I-“

But before you could finish Butcher had pressed his lips against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you gripped his arms. You shifted slightly so you sitting in his lap and when you broke the kiss the two of you remained close.

“Fuck.” You whispered

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Replied Butcher

“Think I have some idea.”

You hesitated before slowly getting off is lap. Butcher looked disappointed but you said,

“Sorry for killing for mood but your arm,” you pointed to it and it had started bleeding again, “I’m not into blood play.”

“Another night then.”

“When you’re properly healed.”

“Although,” Butcher wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his chest, “I’m not going to let you leave me.”

“Who said I was planning on going anywhere?”

 *

 MM, Frenchie and Hughie looked at yours and Butcher’s sleeping forms. MM sighed before handing some money over to a very smug looking Frenchie. Hughie just looked at them in shock.

“Did you take bets on their relationship?” he asked

“It was obvious,” said Frenchie, “It was going to happen sooner or later.”

“I was hoping for later,” said MM, “You know how stubborn they are.”

When you shifted in Butcher’s arms they quickly walked away. You and Butcher wouldn’t be happy if either of you found out that they had taken bets on you. This was something best kept between themselves.

[lexsssu]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 (𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢)

TAGS: Zhongli/F!Reader, parenthood, fluff, original child character

“...Yuyu? Might I ask why you’re rubbing your face so furiously? You’ll end up hurting yourself, sweetling.”

Zhongyu ceased his motions, hands dropping to his sides as he gazed up at his father with moist golden eyes and a weak, “Baba…”

“Dry your tears with this instead. Now, tell your father what’s gotten you so upset. Though I may not be as ‘ hip ’ or ‘ cool ’ as most fathers these days (considering that I’m more than old enough to be everyone’s father and well, ancestor if we’re being technical—) according to your mother, perhaps telling me of your plight can ease your burdens even a little”

With practiced ease, the funeral consultant lifted the little boy into his arms and produced a silk handkerchief from within his suit before dabbing the cloth gently upon the wetness that stained his golden-scaled cheeks. Zhongyu inherited his draconic traits from both his parents, but his coloring was more like his father’s: earthy and golden.

And therein lies the exact problem.

“Why didn’t I get mama’s pretty silver scales instead?”

His son’s question honestly caught Zhongli off guard, having not expected that to be the root cause of his apparent distress.

“Dima has his mama’s pretty white hair AND silver scales. So why couldn’t I have at least got my mama’s scales…?” Zhongyu looked dejected as he pouted aggrievedly, tightening his embrace on his father’s neck and burying his face into the crook to hide his puffy face.

Ahh, so he was jealous of his imaginary friend? Zhongli chuckled as he rubbed his son’s back tenderly, recalling Zhongyu’s outlandish story about meeting and talking with another child eerily similar to himself. While his son took his dark hair and scales, this ‘Dima’ sported white hair and scales similar to his wife: You. The ex-archon supposed that Yuyu was perhaps starting to get lonely and wanted a sibling, which is why he conjured up the image of another child, ‘Dima’ who seemed to be what Yuyu imagined his future brother would look like.

“You could have been born with your mother’s coloring, but you inherited mine instead and there’s nothing anyone could have done about it. Neither your mother and I could choose what you would look like, but we love you all the same for it. Regardless of the color of your skin, your scales, your hair, or even your eyes you will always be perfect to us. I hope you see the beauty we see in you as well, my son.”

“...Mama doesn’t mind that I look like Baba more?”

“Of course not. In fact, from the first moment she saw you your mother already loved you with all her heart,” and for the first time in his eons of existence did Zhongli feel a slight sense of jealousy when you spent all your time with your child, but that was quickly squashed by the knowledge that Zhongyu was also HIS offspring. Morax & Rex Lapis within was comforted by the knowledge that you treasured the fruit of your union so much.

“Now then, we best be getting home lest your mother start to worry over our whereabouts”

“...Can I at least say goodbye to Dima?” Zhongyu points to the shallow pond he’d been squatting over while crying earlier.

“I don’t see why not. Make sure not to fall in the water or your mother will have my hide.”

“I’ll be careful, Baba.”

The dark-haired man gingerly placed the child back on the ground and watched as he scampered off to the pond and began speaking to his reflection in the water. Had he been an ordinary human he wouldn’t have noticed that the reflection on the water sported a different eye color than Yuyu’s own amber eyes.

Rather, the reflection had a pair of familiar blue eyes...