#I think I simply want at least the people the already follow me to like my posts at leasts

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

HI THERE WE GO - also can you let me know if the taglist works? tumblr is being weird about it 👀

word count: 2.8k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content, heartache, feelings of betrayal includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: sorrows sorrows prayers - heartaches, max comes to his senses and summer break happens

PART SIX previous part - next part

The celebration has fizzled out, and the quiet hum of the hotel feels almost suffocating. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at the untouched glass of water on the nightstand, your phone resting loosely in your hand. Every moment from today replays in your mind like a relentless highlight reel: Lando standing on the podium, the roar of the crowd, the grin on his face as he sprayed champagne. You’d cheered for him, of course. He deserved it. But you couldn’t let yourself get too close—physically or emotionally. Not today. Not after everything.

Your phone buzzes in your hand.

Lando: "Can we talk?"

The message is simple, but the weight behind it feels unbearable. You don’t want to talk. You don’t want to feel everything that rises to the surface when it comes to him. And yet, you find yourself typing back before your brain can catch up with your hands.

You: "Where?"

His response comes almost instantly.

Lando: "Your floor. Hallway."

You freeze. It’s unexpected. He could’ve easily asked you to meet somewhere neutral—the lobby, maybe, or the bar. But no. He’s put the ball in your court, literally meeting you where you are. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. When you open your door, you find him standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. He looks… hesitant. Like he’s just as unsure about this as you are. His eyes meet yours, and for a second, the tension between you tightens like a live wire. “Thanks for not locking me out,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something heavier.

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the door frame to maintain some semblance of distance. “Figured if I didn’t come out, you’d just keep waiting there like some kind of lost puppy.”

He huffs a laugh, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Yeah, well… wasn’t gonna let this weekend end without at least trying.”

Trying. The word sticks with you, twisting itself into a knot in your chest. “What do you want, Lando?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intend.

“I want you to stop running from this,” he says simply, stepping a little closer. He’s careful not to invade your space entirely, but his presence feels overwhelming anyway. “I get it—Max is pissed, and everything’s messy, but I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t matter to me. That you don’t matter to me.”

You glance down the hallway, ensuring it’s empty before sighing and stepping back into your room. “Fine. Come in. But keep your voice down.”

He follows you inside, closing the door gently behind him. The room feels smaller with him in it, the tension between you filling every corner. You stay near the window, putting some space between you, but it doesn’t do much to ease the knot in your stomach. “Lando…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words. “This isn’t fair.”

“To who?” he asks, his brow furrowing. “To Max? To the team? Or to us?” You shake your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “To everyone! Max barely speaks to me now, and if people find out—” “Why do you care so much about what people think?” he interrupts, his voice sharper than before. “Why does everyone else’s opinion matter more than what we feel?”

“Because it’s not just about us!” you snap, your voice rising before you catch yourself and lower it again. “Lando, you don’t get it. I’ve already lost so much because of this—because of you. I can’t lose Max too.” His expression softens, but it only makes things harder. “You haven’t lost him,” he says, his voice steady. “He’s mad now, sure, but he’ll come around. He always does. You know he does.” You look away, biting your lip. “I’m not so sure this time.”

The silence stretches between you, heavy and unrelenting. Finally, Lando takes a cautious step closer, his hands still in his pockets like he’s holding himself back. “I know it’s complicated,” he says quietly. “And I know I’ve made things harder for you. But I’m not sorry for how I feel. I can’t be.”

You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, and it’s terrifying. “I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I can’t deal with all of this—Max, the pressure. It’s too much.” Lando’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might argue. But instead, he nods slowly, his expression guarded. “Okay,” he says softly. “If that’s what you want.”

It’s not. It’s the furthest thing from what you want. But you don’t say that. Instead, you turn back to the window, unable to face him any longer. You hear him move toward the door, his footsteps hesitant, and then he stops. “For what it’s worth,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I think you’re worth all of it. Every messy, complicated part of it.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the weight of his absence settles over you like a storm cloud. You press your forehead against the cool glass of the window, your chest tightening as you try to catch your breath. You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the empty street below. But when you finally turn around, the ache in your chest hasn’t gone away. It lingers, heavy and unyielding, a constant reminder of what you just let walk away.

The silence in the room swallows you whole. It feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in. You stay frozen by the window, staring at the darkened street below, but the city lights blur as tears sting your eyes. You try to hold it together—you really do. But the ache in your chest feels like it’s splitting you in two, and before you know it, the first tear spills over. It’s slow at first, just a quiet trickle. Then it becomes a flood you can’t control.

You press your palms to your face, trying to muffle the sobs that wrack your body, but it’s no use. The dam is broken, and everything you’ve been holding back—the stress, the guilt, the fear—comes rushing out all at once. How did it come to this? The weight of it all presses down on you, heavy and relentless. You think about Max, about the way he looked at you on the balcony like you’d betrayed him in the worst way possible. You think about how much you’ve hurt him, how you’ve fractured the one relationship you swore you’d always protect.

And then there’s Lando.

You think about the way he looked at you just now, his voice soft but sure, his words cutting through all the noise in your head. “I think you’re worth all of it. Every messy, complicated part of it.” But you don’t feel worth it. You feel like a mess. Like you’ve let everyone down, including yourself.

Your knees buckle, and you sink to the floor, the plush carpet doing little to soften the weight of your emotions. You hug your knees to your chest, letting your tears soak into the sleeves of your hoodie as you try to steady your breathing. But the more you try, the harder it becomes to control the swirling storm in your mind. The image of Lando walking out flashes in your mind, and your heart clenches painfully. You think about the way his voice trembled when he said, “Okay,” like he was giving up on something he didn’t want to let go of. You think about the way he looked back at you before leaving, his eyes searching yours one last time as if hoping you’d stop him.

But you didn’t.

You let him go.

And now, you’re left with the hollow echo of your decision, and the crushing reality of what you’ve lost.

Eventually, the sobs subside into quiet sniffles, but the heaviness in your chest doesn’t lift. You sit there on the floor, staring at nothing, as the night stretches on. You wonder how you’ll face Max tomorrow, how you’ll look Lando in the eyes again. You wonder if things will ever go back to the way they were.

And deep down, you know the answer. They won’t.

---

It’s been a week and some since Silverstone, and the silence is deafening. Not just between you and Max, but between you and Lando too. Neither of you reached out—no texts, no calls, nothing. Maybe that’s for the best, you tell yourself. After all, how do you even begin to repair a friendship when so much has been broken? But late at night, when the world is quiet and your thoughts are the loudest, it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest, the hollow space where his presence used to be. After all, before all of this, Lando was something like your best friend. The only person you had when you moved to the south of France all by yourself.

Max, on the other hand, has been… different. Polite. Distant. He talks to you, but the easy sibling banter you’re used to has been replaced by careful, measured words. It’s like he’s walking on eggshells around you, and it’s exhausting. So when he texts, telling you he’s in Monaco and asking if you want to grab coffee, you hesitate. Part of you wants to avoid it altogether, but the other part—the part that misses your brother—wins out.

You meet him at a quiet café not too far from your apartment. It’s a small place, tucked away from the hustle Monaco, and the warm, homey atmosphere does little to ease the knot in your stomach. You sit across from him, your hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, and wait for him to speak. Max takes his time. He stares at his cup like it holds the answers to the universe, his brows furrowed in thought. Finally, he sighs and looks up, meeting your eyes.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the other night,” he starts, his voice low and steady. “You and Lando.” You brace yourself, every muscle in your body tensing. Here it comes. “I handled it wrong,” he admits, surprising you. His shoulders slump slightly, and for the first time in weeks, he looks less like the overprotective big brother and more like the Max you’ve always known. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you. Or at him. It’s just… it caught me off guard.”

“Max,” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off. “Let me finish,” he says, his tone soft but firm. “I was angry, yeah. And hurt. Because you’re my little sister, and Lando’s my best friend. And the idea of you two…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not easy for me.” You nod, swallowing hard. “I get that.”

“But,” he continues, leaning forward, “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to choose. That wasn’t fair. And I’m sorry.”

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I understand,” you say quietly. “And I’m sorry too. I should have told you.” Max’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “No, you shouldn’t have to tell me everything,” he says gently. “I should trust you enough to know that if there was something going on between you and Lando, you would have told me.”

“I’m not saying I’m okay with it,” he interrupts, holding your gaze. “I don’t think I ever will be. Not completely. But I also don’t want to lose either of you. So if this is something you really want…” He pauses, exhaling slowly. “I’ll try to deal with it. For you.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Max has always been fiercely protective of you, but right now, as he sits across from you with his messy hair and tired eyes, he just looks like a worried brother who wants the best for his little sister. “I’ll talk to Lando,” Max continues, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “I’ll apologize to him too.”

His words are like a lifeline, pulling you out of the storm you’ve been drowning in since that night on the balcony. Your grip tightens on your mug as you try to find the right words, but all you can manage is a choked, “Thank you.”

Max smiles faintly, a flicker of the old him shining through. “Just don’t expect me to be happy about it.” You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you like a wave. “Noted.” The tension between you softens, and for the first time in weeks, it feels like you’re starting to find your way back to each other. It’s not a perfect resolution, and it doesn’t fix everything. But it’s a step forward. And for now, that’s enough.

---

The morning sun is already warm against your skin as you wheel your suitcase across the tarmac in Monaco. Everything feels too quiet—except for the sound of your heart, which beats like a drum inside your chest. You remind yourself this was always the plan: flying to Mykonos with Lando. It’s been set in stone for months, back when things were simpler, back when the thought of sitting next to him on a private plane didn’t send a confusing mix of anxiety and longing spiraling through you.

“Morning.” His voice is soft, hesitant, as he steps out of the car behind you. He’s wearing sunglasses, his hair just slightly disheveled, and he looks like he hasn’t quite woken up yet. There’s a faint tension in the way he carries himself, though, a stiffness that mirrors your own. “Morning,” you reply, your voice sounding way too bright in your own ears. You quickly turn back to your suitcase, fiddling unnecessarily with the handle.

The crew greets you both as you board, but you barely hear them. The plane is sleek and modern, with wide leather seats and enough room to keep things casual. But even with all the space, you feel like the walls are closing in when Lando sits down just across the aisle from you.

You settle into your seat, fussing with your bag and pretending you’re completely unbothered. You’re thankful for the sunglasses hiding your eyes, giving you a shield to glance at him when he’s not looking. He scrolls through his phone absentmindedly, his brow furrowed in concentration. He doesn’t look at you, not even once, and you tell yourself that’s a good thing. The engines hum to life, and the plane begins to taxi. It’s a short flight, really, but it feels endless as you sit there, hyperaware of the silence between you. Normally, you’d be talking and laughing with everyone by now, but your other friends are joining later, flying in from various parts of the world. For now, it’s just you and him, and that fact is as heavy as the August air.

After takeoff, Lando finally speaks. “You excited?” he asks, his voice neutral, careful. He’s not looking at you, instead staring out the window at the endless expanse of blue sky. “Yeah,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’ll be good to relax for a bit. Mykonos is beautiful.” He nods, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wants to smile but thinks better of it. “Yeah, it’ll be nice.” And just like that, the conversation ends. You chew on your lip, debating whether to say more, to ask him how he’s been, but the words stick in your throat. It’s easier this way, you decide. Easier to keep things surface-level, to avoid the deep waters you’ve both been treading since Silverstone.

The flight attendant offers drinks, and you accept a sparkling water, grateful for something to do with your hands. Lando orders the same, his voice low and polite. For a moment, you almost miss how easy things used to be. The teasing. The jokes. The way his laugh used to light up a room—or a plane cabin.

But that was before. Before Monaco, before Silverstone. Before the lines between you blurred so completely that you’re not sure where you stand anymore. When the plane begins its descent, Lando shifts in his seat, glancing at you for the first time since takeoff. There’s something in his expression—hesitation, maybe, or regret. “Hey,” he starts, his voice softer now. “Thanks for… you know, still coming.” You blink at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Of course. I wasn’t going to miss it.” He nods slowly, his eyes searching yours for something you can’t quite place. Before you can say anything else, the plane lands with a soft thud, and the moment passes.

As you gather your things and step onto the sunny tarmac in Mykonos, the salty sea breeze greets you like an old friend. The island stretches out before you, glittering and inviting, full of promise. You tell yourself this trip will be what you need—a distraction, a fresh start. But as Lando falls into step beside you, his arm brushing yours for the briefest moment, you’re not so sure.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop @weekendlusting @chezmardybum @isotopemylove @luvvcharxo @simp4f1 @henna006

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[cigarettes-and-black-eyeliner]

Its perhaps a tad annoying when the stuff you put a ton of effort in barely gets any interaction while the stuff you barely spend any time on does. I mean I understand why but still

[icemankazansky]

A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read

I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.

But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.

The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.

Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?

So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)

The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.

I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.

Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.

Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."

✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.

Contrast that to:

I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!

❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.

Reframing

The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:

I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.

✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.

This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.

I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.

❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.

Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:

I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.

❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.

Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥

✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."

thank u, next

The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.

Let's do some examples:

This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.

❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.

You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].

❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."

I want a sequel. 😞

❌ "Thank you, next!"

You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.

I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.

✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.

You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶����

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[usedpidemo]

Codependency (Ive Yujin)

On one side, there’s a mansion worthy portrait of you on the wall. On the other, wards and recognitions from numerous governing bodies with your name plastered in remembrance. The public knows more about the brand than the people behind it; that’s how business works. Unless your name happens to be Musk, Bezos, or Zuckerberg.

You’re nowhere near their level of wealth and influence—far from it—yet this entire building’s future rests on your shoulders. It’s not as easy as it looks.

You’ve always credited your guardian angel for keeping you from harm your entire life. It sounds religious, but from personal experience, it’s real. 

She’s guiding you from the secluded corner of your office.

—————

“And that’s how we’ll proceed with operations moving forward,” you say to the executives in the room—except they're not physically there. Their faces are projected on screen, joining from different countries, with some even joining from home. To be quite frank, you understand very little about your own presentation, and had your acting not been Oscar-worthy, there’s more that would appear absurd than believable. “Do we have any questions?”

For the most part, the top brass appear to be in unanimous agreement with everything that has been laid out. Not a single question, complaint, or rebuttal from anyone.

“Well done, officer. You seem to have a complete grasp and understanding of the situation,” says one of the chiefs, his ripe old age showing through his slow, strained tone. 

Another suit, much closer to your age—albeit barely (he’s in his mid-forties)—adds, “We expect an immediate turnaround, otherwise we may have to cut even more of our divisions off. Should this plan fail, we anticipate closure of even more of our departments, including yours.”

It’s not the most concerning thing you’ve heard this week, but it’s definitely up there–at least top three.

Nevertheless, you remain firm and bow to your superiors as you end the meeting. “Thank you sirs. We will do our best.”

As soon as the video call ends, you let out this deep sigh of relief that’s been repressed the entire time. Thank goodness you have an entire building floor and private office to yourself. 

“Well fuck me,” you mutter, seemingly speaking to the void, taking all the deep breaths you need, wiping the sweat across your head with some tissue. “Tell me I followed through on everything, right?”

“Yeah. Apart from mixing a few things, you mostly got it.” Yujin’s voice emerges from the far end of the room, covered in darkness, away from anyone’s view. The papers on your desk aren’t actually documents or paperwork. In reality, they’re pages of a manuscript with a few instructional, handwritten notes attached. It’s not even your own writing; they’re curated by none other than Yujin herself. “I’d say I wouldn’t have noticed, even if they were a little too obvious at times.”

“These conferences are fucking tiresome. Nauseating even,” you reply. Yujin opens up the blinds, and you stagger away from the immediate sunlight piercing through the room. Simply put, you just want to throw up after yapping all that incomprehensible jargon. “You know what—why don’t we switch places next time? I think you’d be better at this than me, like you already are with everything.”

An unusual comment for the director to make to his assistant, but it’s true. Yujin is so good in every department that it’s borderline farcical. She’s incredibly reliable to the point where you’ve basically deferred nearly every task to her, leaving you with the most boring parts of your job, which mostly comprises of company meetings and private calls. She’s a relatively new hire, having worked in your department for a little over a year, yet her rise up the ranks has been nothing short of absurd. 

“Please, let’s not get carried away,” she softly laughs, flashing a lovely smile you never grow tired of seeing—and you see her as soon as you walk into the building till you clock out.  “I’m fine with the research and paperwork. Regardless of what you want to believe, I think you sold it well.”

You slump back in your chair, somewhat bothered at just how unbothered Yujin is. How she’s able to take all your responsibilities that you should be doing, and without protest. One look at her features tells you all you need to know: that she’s happy to work for you. She could easily be in your position right now, putting you through this exact hell. She could be on that screen making those very threats on your job, in fact. Instead, she prefers to be your subordinate.

If that wasn’t enough of an example, she’s gathering the papers on your desk, putting them back together, good as new. Then she brings you a cup of water from the dispenser. She’s enumerating a list of other, just as unintelligible things that may or may not be important to your discussion earlier. Meanwhile, you’ve been sitting in that chair, your thoughts wandering aimlessly, thinking about anything that isn’t work. It’s almost noon, yet your mind just wants to check out for the rest of the day.

“Um—sir? You okay?” Yujin waves a hand right in your face, snapping you from your tired daze.

You tilt up to her gaze, eyes weary. “Yeah. I’m just—tired.”

“Do you want me to leave? I’ll go and sort out the upper management on your behalf if you’re not feeling well.”

“Don’t.” You rise from your seat, telling her, “I’ll take care of it. Go and have lunch,” as you point at your wristwatch, both hands closely pointed at the top.

“You sure? You should go have lunch too,” she replies, showing an alarming amount of concern that it’s almost comical. “Don’t worry about me.”

Shaking your head, you respond, flashing a light grin to reassure her, “I can talk to them at any time. T your break. I’ll call you when I need anything.” 

—————

Truth be told, you didn’t want to see her for the rest of the day, let alone seek her help. 

Yujin is only one call away. After all, she’s your assistant, down to working right outside your office. She’s working on whatever nonsense you’ve assigned her, showing no signs of slowing down. Meanwhile, you can barely call today productive; you’ve only completed two pages of a draft for next week’s presentation. In the time spent between slowly chopping away and stalking her from behind the door, her pretty profile a sight for sore eyes, she’s probably completed this week’s assignments and halfway through the next. She’s that efficient.

Hours pass, until the day finally ends at five. At exactly the top of the hour, she lets herself into your office, her pleasant attitude still in full bloom. “Already completed all the tasks for today. How about you?”

Yujin is not even trying to gloat—not in the slightest—yet it sounds like a punch to the gut. You can only slam your chin flat on the desk in despair, shooting a tired glare at her. She tries to muffle her chuckle, trying to keep herself professional, not realizing you’ve already seen through her facade.

“You want me to help you out? I don’t mind working an hour longer if you need it.” She’s peeking her head over the laptop display, examining for the proof of concept—or lack thereof. “Didn’t I tell you to leave this five plan strategy to me?”

This amount of confidence should leave you battered and deflated. And yet, there’s a sense of relief knowing Yujin will get the job done no matter what you ask of her. It’s enough to turn that frown into a faint, encouraging grin. 

“I guess so,” you tell her, putting down the screen. Getting up from your chair, you close the window blinds and block out the setting sun. “Maybe I’m just tired of deferring all my responsibilities to you, that’s all.”

Her smile looks innocent, demure even, it doesn’t make sense as to how irrevocably kind she is to you. As far as you know, your employees consider you as shrewd and as scummy as your superiors. Forget that you’ve been working here longer; they consider everyone that isn’t their fellow rank a corporate dirtbag who’d step over others the first opportunity they can. It’s a vicious cycle. To have someone like Yujin feels like an anomaly. 

“Don’t worry about it, that’s why I’m getting paid right?” she answers back, pressing her palms on your desk. “Just do what you can and I’ll handle the rest.”

You’re pouring an espresso into a cup, before offering the drink to her. “We should talk, Yujin,” you say, filling up a separate glass with your own. Your fourth shot. “You got a minute or two?” 

“Sure. I always have time for you.” Yujin sits up, taking the drink into her hand, crossing her leg. It’s nearly impossible to look anywhere else but on them. As if she couldn’t be any more perfect, in mind, character, and body. “Is there anything bothering you lately?”

Sitting across her with only a desk separating you, the words never come out. You’ve got plenty on your mind: the messy state of your department, the unreasonable expectations and demands of your superiors, the possibility of losing your job—and Yujin. She’s sitting right there, ready to hear you out, but you never find the conviction to confess your worries. The next few minutes are awkward silence, only broken by the occasional stir of teaspoon and the sip of coffee. It isn’t that she renders you speechless, though one would fairly assume as to why: she’s pleasant to look at, among other things. It also helps that her outfits have been getting skimpier over the past few weeks. Unsurprisingly, you let the flagrant violation of the dress code go unpunished. 

“Sir? Is everything okay?” Yujin leans her head forward, noticing that you’re lost in thought. She places her cup on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows instinctively rise. That glimmer of hope you showed moments ago disappears. What’s left is despair. “I think we might be fucked, Yujin.”

“Fucked? What do you mean by that?”

“We’re fucked. Like, we could be out of a job fucked.”

“Explain?” Yujin cannot comprehend it—then again, anyone else would react the same way. “Didn’t we give the board a five step plan earlier today?”

“We did,” you reply, finally mustering the strength to meet her eyes. “But here’s the thing: we don’t have the financial or human capacity to execute the plan. At least, in the time they demanded.”

“And? We did the research and even the hypotheticals!” You’ve never heard Yujin raise her voice even once—until now. “What could go wrong exactly?”

“They think we can course correct years worth of bad financial decisions in just a few months. That’s the problem. Either way, we’re fucked.”

“I don’t believe you.” Yujin forcefully rises from her seat, threatening to flip the desk. If she only had the strength. “After all the time I spent working on it, you want to wave the white flag and give up?”

You don’t really know how to answer her. At least, in a way that’s remotely graceful and easy to understand. 

“I’m sorry, Yuj, but no matter what—”

“I’m trying—so fucking hard—” she huffs, her fist clenching, trembling violently— “to carry your fucking ass so that we could keep our livelihoods. And not just me or you, but also the hundreds working for us! I know you fucking hate their guts because they’ve said nothing but terrible things about you, and even if none of that is true because I know you better than anyone else in this fucking building, at least have the decency to salvage whatever’s left instead of being a fucking coward for once!”

Yujin doesn’t notice that she’s been outright screaming into your face. You’re taken aback, utterly in disbelief at what she just aired out. If she wasn’t kindness incarnate, she likely would have pulled you by the shirt and choked you till you passed out. She blinks. The realization hits, and she begins to crumble.

“Sorry” is the only thing she can say, in quiet mumbles, slowly falling back onto her chair. Her hands cover the lower half of her face, completely mortified. Her eyes are on the verge of tears before giving out and crying waterfalls. Eventually, she lowers her head out of shame.

Even before entrusting her with such a demanding assignment, you knew there was nothing other than divine intervention that could save your job. This wasn’t what you signed up for, and neither did Yujin. For the most part, this was only to save face. Your face. The board of directors didn’t have any objections after all, and were mostly agreeable with every step of the plan. Either that or their old age is catching up and they hardly understood a thing at all. Like you.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t excuse you from criticism. This is on you, and you should be held accountable. Instead of rightfully performing your part, you weighed down someone else with your burden. It’s the wake-up call you need.

Yujin shouldn’t feel guilty saying all of this and having to apologize. She’s crying on your desk, still softly apologizing between tears, “Sorry—I’m really sorry—” and your heart fucking drops. 

It’s a terrible feeling.

“Yuj, please stop crying,” you mutter, caressing her shoulder. Seeing her look so defeated brings you more distress than anything, including the thought of losing your job. “I should be the one apologizing for putting you through all this. You’re right—”

“I’m so sorry.” She’s still asking for forgiveness, your words mostly going unnoticed. “I just wanted to—”

“You’re right, Yuj. I’m a coward. I’ll admit, I honestly wanted to resign the moment they brought this up. If they couldn’t do a damn thing about it, how else would I know? Seeing you figure out a way made me realize just how much I depend on you to save my ass. I should be the one saying sorry, not you Goddammit, Yuj. What would I do without you, honestly—”

She tilts her head up, her sniffling and sobbing unceasing, resting her head on your chest. “I’m sorry. What I said is still out of pocket and I wasn’t in the position to say—”

“Shush, Yuj. Stop apologizing for being right,” you reply, brushing her hair. “Look. We’ll go forward with your plan. You can write up the whole thing and I’ll present it your way. I won’t muck up in front of the directors, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna quit.”

“Really?” She lifts up her eyes, doe-looking and glimmering.

“Yeah. Might as well go down with a sinking ship, so please stop crying,” you say, smiling. “You made me feel like shit and I don’t like it.”

Yujin laughs. Heartily.

—————

Even though that should havd been enough to appease Yujin, in your eyes, it wasn’t. You had to make it up to her in other ways.

“This place serves really good food,” you tell Yujin, digesting the sights and scents of the relatively small eatery. Meanwhile, Yujin sits beside you, eating to heart’s content without a care. “I can see why you love it.”

“How’d you know this was my favorite place to drop by after work?” she asks, chomping down on the last stick of her barbecue. 

“I have my sources,” you tell her, playfully grinning, unwilling to admit that you’ve been watching from behind your car’s windows for some time now. 

“Don’t tell me it’s Wonyoung, boss.” Yujin pouts, flustered and embarrassed. “I swear to God, I can’t trust anything with—”

“It isn’t her, don’t worry,” you chuckle, amused at her red-faced look. 

“I really appreciate the offer,” she remarks, finishing the remaining half of her drink. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do for my hardworking assistant,” you reply, gesturing to the lone cook for the bill. The charges go up to the hundreds, with most orders belonging to her. While she’s chomping away at the end of a large meal, you secretly foot it on her behalf. How she maintains her figure while consuming this much food, you’ll never know. And when she calls for the tab, she’s told that it has already been paid in full.

“Now you’re just being extra,” she says, facing you, looking insulted by the kind gesture, but in a playful way. Appreciative regardless. “I already told you we’ll pay for what we each ordered.”

Looking at the stack of empty plates on her side—when compared to yours—some part of you believes that to be false. You don’t even have to say anything for her to realize she’s not one to fulfill her own word either.

“Okay—I would have paid 25 percent.”

You can’t place any blame on her. She laughs—at herself. She’s so charming, a pleasure to watch, that you would let her slide, had this not been your intention right from the start.

“Stop.” 

You end up laughing with her too.

—————

“Seriously. Don’t lie, you promise you won’t just suddenly quit on us?” Yujin asks, staring at you as you walk toward your parked vehicles outside the eatery. “This feels like a way to soften the blow.”

Both of you stop right in front of your cars. “Not at all,” you tell her, staring directly into her eyes. “What else do I have to do to prove that I’m not quitting?”

“I don’t know, sir. I mean—you, suddenly asking me to eat out—” she rolls her eyes away, skeptical— “You’ve never done that.”

The cold nighttime air sweeps all over you. Chilly, you rub your arms together, partially regretting the decision to cover Yujin with your coat. She’s relatively unfazed, warm in your garment; even more surprisingly, it fits her perfectly like a glove. 

“I wouldn’t leave if it means I lose you, Yujin.”

It’s not the words you wanted to say. Every part of that sentence leaves your lips effortlessly. A little too effortless.It’s an unconfessed confession, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. Sure, she may interpret it as merely you being codependent on her when it comes to work, but there’s no way there isn’t some kind of other, deeper meaning behind them.

“Lose me? What does that mean?” She asks, even more curious. Of course, Yujin isn’t the brain of your operations for nothing. It isn’t surprising when she figures you out. “You like me, don’t you?”

Just like that, the tables have turned. You can’t deny your feelings any longer.

You gently nod. Perhaps the killing blow could be softer if you find closure, right here, right now.

She leans forward, both of you unable to do anything other than to stare into each other’s deep, longing eyes. The tension between you is the only source of heat in the midst of a cold, lonely night. 

By all accounts, the relationship between you and Yujin is strictly professional. Apart from a few trips abroad, you keep all conversations business related. Mind-numbing, confusing agency jargon. It’s a helpful practice in keeping your space; no matter how attractive she may look and saccharine she may sound, no amount of pleasantry can make company discussion remotely close to entertaining. You’d rather play with the blinds in your office. She’s doing her part too: clock in at nine, clock out at five on the dot. It’s a healthy routine. After hour talks between you are rare. It’s common practice to maintain a firm working relationship. It’s also just common sense. Good organization begins at the top.

Moments like these are strong reminders on why you avoid crossing that line. Yet you don’t stop—not when she’s the one making the first move. 

You kiss. Your lips stay a little longer than they should. The taste lingers. 

You find solace in each other's warmth, in a comforting embrace. She rests her head on your chest, her hands gripping into your shirt tightly. Deep down, you both recognize you’re on borrowed time. Whether through your promotion or your release, you won’t be together for much long. Countless hours spent together, so many occasions—the opportunities are being handed to you on a silver platter, only for you not to take the chance.

Not anymore. You won’t make the same mistake again.

—————

Driving her home was easy; finding your way into your room was half the battle. 

“It took us this long to share a room, huh?” Yujin huffs against your face, finding and capturing your lips even in an erratic, volatile environment. She’s pushing you against the wall, her palms having an iron grip on your cheeks, pulling you close and wildly kissing you. The entire trip up to your apartment floor has been nothing but shaky kisses and clothes slowly scattering from the elevator to your front door.

“We should have done this a long time ago,” you manage to mutter, holding her face away for a brief respite to answer, only to be forced back in once again. Any semblance of professionalism between you is abandoned for fiery, passionate lovemaking, future relationships be damned. 

The most surprising thing is how it isn’t as messy as it may look. See, despite the bite marks on your skin, the wrinkles in your clothes, and the rather loud, unceremonious manner you enter your apartment, you’re still in the process slowly unraveling. There’s a conscious effort to make sure neither side comes out completely in ruins. A silent agreement between you. 

Her hands lay claim to your shirt, threatening to tear you apart if you don’t do the same to her. She lifts her head when you quickly peel through her long skirt; you dive in and make it yours. The crack in her voice as she mewls tickles your ears just right. Slowly spreading her legs wide, pulling the panties down her well defined thighs. In response, she tugs at your shirt, popping a few buttons loose. It isn’t as easy as it looks to have Yujin pinned against the wall; she’s actively fighting, trying to seize back control. If she can’t have her way with you, at the very least she can rein you in. Only now do you realize the danger your little escapede.

With her slender legs wrapped around your waist, you can only do so much. Yujin can’t stop kissing you, leading your gaze to anywhere but her pretty, lust-ridden expressions. She wants this more than you do. Against your desires, you end up in the kitchen, propping her on the bar counter as lipstick covers your entire face. The brief respite when she catches her breath gives you ample time to unbutton the rest of your shirt before tossing it aside—something you don’t give her the decency to finish.

While she’s still staggering, lost in her own thoughts, you take her by the shoulder and leave a fresh mark on her neck. A distraction. More importantly, your fingers feel their way around the back of her dress, find the touch of metal—and yank. The zipper follows, the lengthy garment gradually coming undone, until Yujin pushes the rest of it off her shoulders and to the floor. Your eyes gleam like starlight as her bra reveals itself, taking countless mental snapshots at that moment. 

Not even her attempts to redirect your attention can pull you away. 

You push her down on the marble surface. The bar is big enough to fit you both. Joining her atop the counter, your gaze wanders down her divine figure—and you don’t know where to start. Everything about Yujin is designed to be as perfect as humanly possible. No one should be flawless.

“How can you be any more perfect, Yuj,” you mutter, eyes roaming everywhere, soaking in the immaculate sight before you. “How did I not want you any sooner?”

Yujin’s hand traces down your arm. “You could have just asked. My previous employers did. It was a regular part of the job for me.”

You’re shaking your head. Imagine that—an employer taking advantage of their employee offering themselves without any restraint. You would never—except you already did. Your previous assistant can vouch.

“Don’t feel sorry. I want this just as much as you do,” she adds, pulling you towards her face for a soft kiss, clearing all doubt. “Besides, you’re not that much different from any of them. Why stop now?”

“Not that different? Were they just as codependent on you as I am?”

Nodding in agreement, she laughs. 

“God fucking dammit.” 

You sigh. Yujin continues laughing. What a momentum killer. And the worst part is, it’s self-inflicted and completely avoidable. You should have just kept going, kept her speechless.

Still, it’s not the end of the world. You’re on top of Yujin; she has no intention of leaving you anytime soon. Most importantly, she’s unhooking her bra while you’re caught up in your feelings. “But—there’s one difference: I actually love working for you. I wouldn’t mind letting you use me.”

“You love working for me? Why?”

She’s biting her lip, grabbing you by the back of your head. “You’ll find out yourself. You know what to do.”

“What? How?” The word comes out panicked, desperate.

Yujin shakes her head, the smirk on her lips twisting, wicked. “You know how.”

At first, finding what she means proves to be a struggle. After all, Yujin’s not the mysterious type. She always tells you everything straight, condenses complex conversations into digestible servings for easy consumption. It’s not in her character. Yet, one look at what’s in front of you—her naked frame casually lying beneath yours, her hands running all over your bare self—the realization hits you like lightning, and you’re mentally punching yourself for being so dangerously oblivious.

You kiss her on the lips again. You can’t get enough. You’d happily stay in this position all night long. Except that isn’t what she wants. She wants you to go further. 

So you sink further and further down. The closer you get, the more she opens up. A sloppy trail follows your lips, from her chin, to her collarbones, to her chest and navel, and everything else in between. She’s soft to the touch, so flexible and malleable—every part of her, you make yours. Then you get to her core, her inner thighs spreading, and watch as it unravels before you, quivering, soaked, needy. You look into each other’s eyes, hers anticipating. There’s a craze behind your irises, as if some repressed need is crawling back to the surface. It’s slowly driving you wild.

Your name drips on the edge of Yujin’s mouth—a sign of impatience—before suddenly cracking at the point of impact. She rolls her head back, her voice reduced to an airy sigh as your tongue licks up her slit, her entrance, in a slow upward motion. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to devolve into a hungry, primal mess. Her thighs close in and clamp you down, suffocating you while you become more familiar with the sensation and taste of her dripping cunt. 

If only you could hear the full extent of her moans, turning a pitch higher with each passing swipe and slurp. You’re humming into her core, satiated and fulfilled with the taste of her slick in your mouth. Yujin’s hands stretch out for help, for stability as pleasure gradually overwhelms her. Propped underneath her thighs, your hands dig under to reach places that your tongue can’t. She grows erratics, restless, moved by your presence inside her.

“Fuck!” The profanity escapes her lips instinctually, like it’s always been a part of her. She’s writhing, jaw slack, her back arched over the bar, her hands now grasping on your hair, then on the edges again. On your side, the pressure her thighs bring leave you suffocating. It’s too much. You should be begging for your life; instead, you’re enjoying every minute, slowing your pace every now and then to savor the feeling. 

Despite her state, she’s caught you by the wrists. They do little in stopping your tongue from consuming every inch of her, and you end up pushing her forward. You grip her by her thighs and spread her wide. She can’t resist. Fresh air has never felt more soothing to the lungs. By the way you have her legs dangled up in the air, you’re threatening to pull a nerve. She’s screaming, crying out in desperation, 

Still, it doesn’t change the outcome. Yujin finally loses herself completely and comes undone. She cums—blasts jets of slick all over your face and mouth. The counter pools with the aftermath of her orgasm, and you lick it all up, sanitation be damned. 

When you finally emerge from the depths of her tight, drenched cunt, she remains a mess, stamina completely drained, body still trembling from her massive climax. You’d think after that, she would be incapacitated for the night, until—

“Wait.” Yujin deeply exhales, pulls you by the wrist. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. As if struck by lightning, she suddenly rises up. A shit-eating grin forms on her lips, as if the damage wasn’t enough to take her down. There’s a familiar look in her eyes—the gaze of a woman who needs more.

She flicks a sample of her slick from the spot on the counter and laps it up, still eying you with unceasing lust. You remember her words, the question to ponder: “You’re gonna tell me now?”

Yujin blankly stares. The question lingers for a little while. “Tell you what?” she replies, the tone convincing enough to feign innocence.

“Why you love working for me.”

She smiles again, a teasing look. “You’re halfway there.”

“What does that mean?” As you try not to overreact, your assistant turned one night stand tries to stifle her laughter. It almost goes unnoticed, until— “Yuj, you’re really getting on my nerves with all this vaguery bullshit going on.”

“It’s part of the fun, is it not? Do you want me to give it straight?”

“Yes! Like always!” 

Yujin leans close. One hand reaches for your pants, the other still attached to your wrist. She appears like she’s going for yet another kiss, when she stops right next to your ear and whispers, “I want you to fuck me. Use me,” before drawing herself away.

On the surface, the stare you give her looks cold. Deep in your mind, the words resonate and ring louder and louder. Four words. “Fuck me—” “Use me—” The arousal bubbles up, manifests on your cheeks. The next few minutes can go so many ways, more than you can imagine. In your eyes, she’s still your assistant, a friendly, dependable worker whom you consider a close acquaintance more than anything. 

The thing is: you’ve already gone far past the point of no return. Her gaze is enticing—demanding—you to keep going. 

There’s no stopping now.

Yujin casually follows you to your bedroom, hand in tow. The rest of your clothes lie discarded in the kitchen—boxers, pants, and all. Gone are the nerves and hesitations; the attitude you have towards her is different. “Lay down,” you command her, voice steely, and she obliges, the bed flopping with the slight crash of her lithe figure. You won’t ever grow tired of staring at her naked body, regardless of it’s position. 

She lays flat on her tummy, observing you rummage through your large closet of suits, pulling a red tie from one of the drawers. “Not the first time I’ve had something wrapped around my neck,” she remarks, raising a curious eyebrow, crooked smile unyielding. “Stylish, just like you.”

“I wasn’t asking for your input.” You’re never this stern towards Yujin. You toss the necktie on the mattress before joining her atop the bed. “Turn around.”

Like the good girl she is, she obliges. That’s Yujin for you; she’ll always follow everything you tell her, no questions asked. On her fours, her plump ass glides face up, in complete view. Another temptation, another part of her to claim as yours. Regardless, you’re in no hurry; you’ve got the rest of the night.

With your erect cock in hand, you line the tip against her sopping cunt. She winces, moans at the contact. “Oh, fuck—” she whines, lifting her head up, her nails pressed into the sheets. As inviting as the call of her tight, wet pussy is to you, you make an organized effort to resist the immediate lull to fuck her hard.

Even holding her figure with your other hand proves to be a nightmare. Her body enraptures you in hypnotic ways. The arch of her back, the curve of her ass, the hourglass frame—it’s a feast for the eyes. You could take your sweet time and worship every little part of Yujin and she wouldn’t mind, but in the midst of your blinding daze, she’s calling to you. Again.

“Are you just gonna admire me or are you gonna shove that big cock in me?” She faces you with a mischievous grin. “I don’t mind both.”

Suddenly, you remember your position in this relationship. You grab her by the throat, face her away again. “Quiet. I don’t want to hear any more from you unless you’re taking this fucking cock.”

Showing a little resistance, she tries daring you, “Then f—fuck!”

Her jaw goes wide, frozen in place, her voice abruptly cutting as you undercut her with your cock. You’re no better; pleasure sets your muscles ablaze as you thrust into her inviting cunt. It shows in the deep groan spilling from your mouth. Little by little, you plunge ever so deep until you feel yourself buried to the hilt. That’s when you finally let out this breath of relief—but not for long. 

Her pussy clenches hard. Her heat proves to be suffocating beyond measure. If you don’t act quickly, she could end you in seconds. 

“O-oh God—”

You slowly, painstakingly pull back before throttling your hips into her. Taking these short breaths, every little move you make is precarious. It’s not that she’s resisting you—far from it—but it’s you resisting the urge to cum so soon. Your mind tries to think of anything other than what’s right in front, but even that proves to be nearly impossible. The ripple of her ass, the slight wobble of her breasts, the twisting grip of your hand on her otherwise soft skin—

“So fucking tight. Holy fuck, Yuj—” You manage to mutter before you’re reduced to groans again. 

All you can focus on is keeping yourself together while you’re slowly crumbing away. You find a rhythm in the midst of the madness, pounding away at your assistant’s cunt, your senses overrun by pleasure and the satisfying sound of your skin slapping skin. Elsewhere, your hands can’t seem to find solace in just one area. They’re everywhere; from her hair, to her throat, to the arch of her ass, to her hips, the imprints stay new, eventually creating a patterned sequence that immediately breaks.

You’re fucking these strained cries and prasies out of Yujin’s sweet lips, and it’s quite the mouthful. ’More,’ ‘harder,’ ‘so good—’ until it reaches the point where her voice is so worn from your chokehold that she can only speak in high pitched mewls. Another cycle you wish would never end. 

Slowing your pace, you reach for the necktie, gently tying it around her neck while preventing your rhythm from disrupting. “You’re such a fucking perfect woman, you know that?” you mutter in her ear, kissing the helix and indulging in the scent of her perfume mixed with sex and sweat. “Perfect listener, perfect assistant, perfect body—”

Pulling yourself away from her, you yank the tie along—your makeshift leash. Her body tilts all the way up, a sharp screech suddenly filling the bedroom. You’re not sure if its from the pull or just her moan. Either way, you have her in your grasp. Brushing her hair aside, you mumble, “Actually, I don’t know how to use a tie like that. I just wanted to remember what it’s like to be the boss. Your boss.”

It should have sounded flat, like all your other attempts at being convincing. And yet, she leans her ear backward, trying to recapture your lips. Teasing a little, your lips make what’s considered the most minimal of contacts, before you push her to her fours. You don’t intend to pull on the tie again, but you’re still holding on to it like your most prized possession—and it may as well be Yujin. 

“Of course,” are her first words uttered in a while that aren’t some combination of profanity and praise. 

Grabbing her by the midsection, the rhythm of your thrusts quickens. You feel it. The imminent collapse. And it’s not just the bed quaking and creaking from your sex. She’s pleading now; ’So close,’ she tells you, begs you to let her cum all over your cock. In any other scenario, you’d acquiesce. Here, with all the authority, you’re going to assert your power a little.

“Say it. Say it and I’ll let you cum all over me,” you demand, your hand climbing up to her chest, grabbing at her breast, folding her up slightly that her grip on the sheets transfers to the headboard. “I wanted you so fucking bad for so long.”

“Anything for you. Just let me cum!” she cries out, on the verge of falling apart. Dangerously close.

“Tell me I’m yours.”

“I’m yours!”

“You know what I meant. Say it again.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

Hearing her declare that she belongs to you with such conviction almost upends you too. You almost give in, but narrowaly escape thanks to your utter resolve. The smirk on your face is priceless.

“Perfect. Now cum.”

Just like that, her body reacts at the drop of your command, as if it was hardwired into her. Yujin goes numb—fidgeting, cumming all over your cock—as you continue to pound into her cunt. A single word echoes, going quieter with every incantation: ‘Fuck,’ she whines, caught reeling in her orgasm and catching every breath possible. 

Eventually, it comes to a standstill, the only thing left is for you to crash. Lucky for her, you’re not that far off. You’ve let go of the tie, holding onto her shoulders instead. So now it’s her opportunity to turn the tables on you again.

“Fucking give it to me—oh I need it now, oh God—” Yujin begs, barely keeping herself upright in the aftermath of her climax.

And you just crash down on her, slamming her deep into the sheets, turning her around as you fuck callously, clamping her neck, her moans ringing into your ear. She has a leg wrapped arond yours—as if you had any intention of pulling out. You’ve spent enough time away from her pretty face; now you want to watch her take all your load deep in her pussy.

Yujin’s mouth melds in the shape of a moan as the pressure finally overwhelms you. Burying yourself deep in her, you’re still pumping, fucking your cock as you blast thick load after thick load in her warm, creamy cunt. The sensation leaves you breathless, hanging onto her for dear life as you wait for the moment to pass. Though it may seem like a couple of minutes, the feeling lingers far longer than you can imagine. She milks you of all your worth, drawing every last drop from your throbbing cock until your body can’t move any longer.

Eventually, your bodies wind up together, limbs tangled, wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. The comfort you both needed after a long day.

—————

You gaze down at a tired Yujin. Hours ago, you were the one holding onto her; now she’s the clingy one, wrapping an arm over you. “I really need to know, Yuj.” 

She mumbles into your chest. “What is it?” You feel her soft lips leave lipstick marks on your skin.

You’re brushing away loose, dark strands of her hair to get a better look of her pristine, shiny face. “Why do you love working for me?”

After the passionate night you just had, you still have the gall to ask such a frivolous question. The answer should be obvious by now.

She looks up, smiling—a pleasant, friendly gleam, one you immediately recognize as soon as you walk through those office doors. “Because you’re the first boss I’ve ever worked for that isn’t a total asshole. Also, you’re good at everything.”

You raise an eyebrow and frown. “That’s not—”

“You know what I meant, boss.” The smiling turns into teasing. You realize, then you laugh.

You should be basking in the afterglow of sex, but daylight peeking through your curtain says otherwise. You’re so tired, you can’t move a muscle, let alone grab the phone from the living room to tell the time. All you know is that you should be at work by now, and so should Yujin.

The ring from your phone can be heard loud and clear, even a room and clothing pocket away. As you try to lift your head, Yujin meets you halfway, kissing you before laying you back down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll write up your leave of absence. Besides, I could use some time off too,” she says, inching her face close to yours.

The notion frightens you. Yujin, your most reliable assistant, never missing a day that isn’t considered a holiday, not by your side when you need her. 

And you need her now more than ever.

“Time off? When?”

“From now. Until you say we’re done.”

—————

(A/N: :bsadcorner:)

(Missing IVE's first proper world tour will always be one of my K-pop low points, even if I already watched and even shared an interaction with them. Goddammit, I can already expect the prices and perks for their next tour will be even more expensive than it already is. Sigh. Anyway, I hope they get their well deserved time off. Thank you for reading!)

[ggidolsmuts]

Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena

"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"

"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.

"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"

"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 

Yena's a good girl.

At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.

True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.

"What? I haven't!"

"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.

"How would you know?" you fire back.

"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"

"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."

"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."

"Yes."

"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.

"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."

"That's all it took? My son is good!"

"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.

Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.

"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.

"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"

"That's great, you eat so well!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.

"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.

"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.

"Thanks, I gotta go now."

"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.

"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"

"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"

"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"

"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"

"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"

"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"

"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.

"Fine."

"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Please sir."

"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.

"Spank me."

"What's the magic word?"

"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.

"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.

"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.

"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.

"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"

"Oppa?"

"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.

"Manners Yena."

"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.

"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.

"Are you forgetting something?"

"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"

"Say it like you mean it."

"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.

"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.

You slam her down on you.

"Oh fuck!"

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"

"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."

"Okay I'll go get the beer."

"No dear, get the ginseng wine."

"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.

"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.

"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."

"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"

"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"

"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"

Yena's a good girl.

The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.

In bed.

In the heat of the moment.

While you're deep in Yena.

~~

"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.

"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.

"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.

"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.

"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.

"That many?"

"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.

"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.

"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."

"Of course, your parents are so nice!"

"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."

"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"

"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.

"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"

"Yena..." you start.

"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"

"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.

"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.

"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."

"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.

Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.

A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!

[zyhkoo]

☆ well this is unexpected..

bat-fam x reader

the batfam asks you out on a date, though it didn’t turn out the way they expected..

a/n: i was thinking of doing batgirls x readers, i also improved my writing style a bit, anyways enjoy!! this was a req by anon but i accidentally deleted it :(

Bruce

Since he grew up eating with a silver spoon, he thought he wanted to try something simple. Fancy dinners, expensive places; he wanted to throw that away for a moment. It wasn’t bad to enjoy simple leisure was it?

His first date with you was in a park, nothing bad at all.

Well since he was Bruce Wayne privacy was practically impossible. People took pictures left to right and asked questions whenever they had the chance, people were insufferable. He just wanted to have his first date alone with you, he can’t help but scowl or brood whenever someone approaches the both of you

This was definitely a scene after all. The playboy billionaire on a romantic date with someone ordinary? This was going in the headlines. You only try to reassure him by squeezing his hand whenever he gets stressed. Though it helped a bit, no one could not leave you two alone.

Bruce debated if the two of you should just go back in the car.

“Bruce! Bruce!”

The reporters were like bloodhounds. There were cameras flashing, the lights were almost blinding. God he wanted to just leave. “Mr Wayne, is this another one of your many dates, or do you see something special in this woman?” A reporter spoke up, shoving a microphone in his face.

Your eyes widened at the bold question, who casually asks that?

Bruce frowned, didn’t like it when they referred to you like that, he found it as if they were trying to disrespect you. You’re his date, not another fling. He just wanted this to be over with, he was trying to think of anything that would make them leave. “She’s a special case.” He stated simply, that made the reporters go wild.

He held onto your hand. He wanted to scream, but even with his brooding nature he was surprisingly good at keeping a calm composure. He was tempted to just run, it was already humiliating enough and now it was just going to be plastered everywhere.

The reporters were getting louder and asking more questions, all wanting to know more about this strange woman who dared to catch the eye of Bruce Wayne.

He had enough. He took your hand and started walking towards his car. There was no point in staying here, it would all be over the tabloids the next day. He still had to deal with the aftermath of it, but at least he could try and have a semblance of a date.

He opened the car door for you, letting you in first. Once you were seated he got in himself. The reporters had decided to follow him, hoping to get any other pictures of the two of you. He slammed the door angrily shutting out their muffled voices. He wanted to let his frustration out, but he didn’t want to ruin what he had with you.

You looked at him and touched his hand “Are you okay?”

He shook his head. God he was so frustrated; this was far from what he was hoping for. He had wanted to have a simple date with you, not be hounded by reporters and questions.

“I was hoping that there would be some peace on our first date.”

You hummed as you stroked his hand with your thumb. “They don’t have boundaries do they?”

He looked at you with a frown. It was supposed to be a nice date. The two of you weren't supposed to be harassed by the press, yet he could still hear their muffled words and the sound of those cameras. He gritted his teeth, "I should have seen this coming."

“I’m going to get swarmed tomorrow.” He leaned back in his seat. No doubt your life was going to turn into an absolute hell since you were dating someone with his influence and status.

"Are you sure you want to be with me?" He asked softly. How could he ask you to live like this?

His heart was telling him that he wanted you. That it’d be fine and that you should just ignore what others say, but his brain was telling him that he was endangering you by having you be seen near him. He was a magnet for trouble, and now you’d be dragged into that side of his life.

“Bruce, I’m sure.” You leaned in closer. “If being with you means dealing with the press, paparazzi, and rumors? I’m up for the challenge.” You smiled at him. “I’m not going to back down so easily.”

“How about this, why don’t we go to my apartment?” you let go of his hand.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment, you took the roses he gave you and spread the petals around the floor. He took a lighter, lighting the candles around your apartment. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the candles.

It was a nice and soothing scent, calming his nerves. The two of you started to make spaghetti. It wasn’t as fancy as the meals he was accustomed to but he didn’t mind. Bruce was just happy to be spending time and cooking with you.

As you two finished cooking, he took some forks and plates taking them to the living room so you and he could have some dinner.

“I have wine.” you walked towards the table “It’s about time that I use this thing.” He chuckled softly. He took the bottle and started to pour some wine for the two of you.

After the two of you finished your dinner, he brought the plates to the sink. He walked back to you and took your hand and pulled you to your feet gently. “May I have this dance?” He asked, already pulling you into a slow waltz.

You chuckled, “You already are.” He leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was slow and gentle, his hands finding their way to your waist and pulling you closer.

Eventually he pulled away, a small smile on his lips. "I guess I am." he said softly.

Dick

For your first date with Dick, he wanted to go out. He wanted it to be as romantic as possible. He asked you for valentines (or christmas whatever comes to your imagination) in which of course you accept.

As the two of you entered the restaurant, the waiter informed Dick that the place was full. Okay there was always a plan B! The art museum? Closed. The mall? Too many people. The park? Closed due to cleaning. Dick started to get frustrated, sunset was almost near and his date with you hadn't started yet.

Dick was just about to give up. He took your hand and gave it a light squeeze, a sympathetic look etched on his face. "I'm sorry. I guess today isn't the best day for us, huh?"

You shook your head “You don’t need to apologize, Dick. It’s not your fault.”

“I know," he whispers, “but I want our date night to be perfect. To be better than your former ones. To be better than any other one that you’ve had. You deserve it.” He gives you a light kiss on the cheek, his breath feeling warm on your skin. "Let's go for a walk."

The night air is cool in Blüdhaven. There are few people out on the streets as it's late, the two of you are alone. The moon shines brilliantly, its light catching Dick's bright blue eyes. The two of you start down the sidewalk.

You then look up at the sky, then an idea pops in your head. “I know what we’ll do.” you smiled. "Yeah?" He laughs, "What's your bright idea?" He bumps his shoulder into yours playfully, his hand squeezing yours.

You hummed, looking back at the sky “I’d say, we go up to a rooftop and watch the stars.” Dick smiles at that, his eyes gleaming at the idea. You could see his mind racing with thoughts. "Good idea. I know of the perfect spot."

The two of you began to walk again, this time, Dick taking the lead. He guided you through the various twists and turns of the downtown of Blüdhaven.

After some light parkour, the two of you were climbing up a fire escape and onto the rooftop of a building. The view of the city was impressive. The moon shone beautifully above the city, the stars scattered all across the night sky. It was a pretty view you had to admit, and you were glad the two of you could see it.

Dick stood beside you, his eyes scanning the stars and trying to find the planets. He glanced at you a moment later, and he said, “I'm glad I get to share moments like this with you.”

You softly smiled at him then leaned on his shoulder. You looked up the stars, admiring each constellation. “Do you want me to tell you about the stars?” He gave you a nod, "Absolutely. Please do."

And so you began to talk about the stars. You told him about the constellations and planets, Dick listened to each word as if they were gospel. The two of you sat there for a while, your head on his shoulder as you stargazed. The night was peaceful, and Dick couldn't have asked for a better date.

You leaned on him, enjoying the warmth he was giving you. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, and it felt so nice and comforting.

He pointed out at the sky, "That star there, right next to the moon, do you see it?"

You looked out to where he was pointing and nodded "That's Sirius, the brightest star in the sky."

"Do you know why Sirius is so bright?" he asked softly.

You hummed "Well.. the ancient Greeks said it was a constellation of the dog. They believed that it was the guardian of the afterlife, and the protector of sailors."

He looked at you, his eyes shining like the stars in the sky. "Hmm, to me, it reminds me of you. Bright as the sun, and you're the light in my dark life."

You blushed at his words, your heart doing a little dance in your chest. "Dick," you scoffed, "That is the corniest thing I’ve heard you say.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your temple, "It's all true though."

Jason

Jason had zero experience in the romance department. When he met you, he was absolutely whipped. The only thing he had was his Pride and Prejudice book and moral support from his family.

Jason had read the book so many times he had practically memorized it. He tried to emulate Mr. Darcy's aloof attitude, but he simply didn't have the same charm. He felt like a fool when he tried to act like a dashing gentleman. But there was one thing he knew. If Mr. Darcy could make a fool of himself to woo Elizabeth, he could do the same for you. He was willing to risk everything to be with you, to win your heart.

Honestly, he wanted his family out of this. But he was so miserable that they just had to step in. Dick and Steph helped fixing his appearance while Tim helped him with planning his date. Barbara thought this was ridiculous, be yourself she says.

Jason was absolutely terrified. Not about going on the date, he had no doubt about that. He was scared of making a fool in front of you. That you, a person so beautiful, so lovely, would ever think of him as anything less than he was.

When he asked you out, he was very surprised to hear you say yes.

He thought of several date ideas, most were pretty simple. Go for dinner, hit a bar. But none of it seemed good enough. He wanted to do something special, something that would make you never forget that day. In the end, he decided to go to the seaside.

In all honesty, it wasn’t really his thing. Jason would rather stay somewhere indoors, but he wanted you to be happy.

He bought you flowers, chocolate and a plush with your favorite animal. You weren’t expecting this from him obviously, he definitely wasn’t the type to give you these. Nevertheless, you accepted them. Jason wanted this date to go perfectly. Not only for your sake, but for his. He knew that if he messed it up, he'd never be able to recover from it.

But oh no.. The clouds started to go dark and droplets immediately fell from the sky. So now he was hiding under a gazebo with you. Not the perfect date he pictured.

He cursed under his breath. It wasn't just raining, but thunder, lightning, and strong winds too. It wasn't looking good. He looked up at the sky, trying to gauge if it was just a passing storm or if the forecast was really that bad.

"Well, this is great," he muttered sarcastically, trying to conceal his frustration. "I'm no meteorologist, but this looks like a long one."

“Hey.” your hands trail to his “It’s alright, it was very sweet for you to ask me out you know?” you smiled reassuringly.

He looked at you, his face softening at your words. Despite the weather, it was still a beautiful day in his view. Being with you was the real reward here, not the weather.

"I know, I just...wanted this to be perfect," he admitted with a shrug. "But you know what? This is pretty perfect, anyway. I get to spend time with you, which is what really matters, and we're both dry too."

He looked up at the ceiling of the gazebo, as if to silently criticize the weather itself for ruining his perfect day. He then turned his gaze back to you, his eyes softening.

“Let's wait it out,” he suggested. “We could make this work.”

The rain only got worse as time went by. The wind was becoming increasingly stronger, and the thunder was so loud that it was difficult to hear one another over the noise. Jason was growing frustrated - not with the storm, but with the fact that it was ruining his date. He had prepared for everything, but never in his wildest nightmare he could have imagined it would be like this.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, glaring up at the sky. “I spent so much time coming up with this perfect day and now it's all ruined.”

You couldn't help but laugh at how agitated he was becoming. “Come on, Jason, lighten up,” you said, grinning at him. “I'm having a great time.”

He gave you a confused look, not sure whether you were teasing him or not. “Seriously? This is what you call a great time?” he asked, gesturing to the storm around them.

“It could be worse,��� you countered, shrugging. “Think about it - we can hang out all day without anyone bothering us. Plus, there’s something romantic about rain.” Jason still didn't seem convinced. “Rain isn't romantic,” he grumbled, frowning at you.

You sighed “Oh, you.” standing up from the gazebo, you looked down at his scowl “Do you want to dance with me?” He looked up at you, confused. “In this weather? You've got to be kidding me,” he replied. “I don't want to get wet.” He didn't feel up to making any innuendos with you right now, even if it was on his mind.

You only smiled at him “It’ll be fun, dancing in the rain is romantic I assure you.” you walked in the heavy rain “See, fun! Come join me.” He watched as you danced in the heavy downpour, the rain soaking your clothes and leaving you drenched.

“Alright then,” he said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. He stood up and walked over to you, letting the rain fall on him as well.

You took his hands in yours and started swaying with him to the tempo of the rain. Despite his initial reluctance, he soon began enjoying the moment. The rain added a certain charm to the dance, making it an intimate and memorable experience for the both of you.

“You were right,” he said, smiling at you. “This is actually kinda fun.”

He looked up at the sky, feeling the rain falling on his face. He never would have thought that a simple date could turn out so well, despite the bad weather. He felt more relaxed and more comfortable with you than he had ever felt with anyone else before.

He twirled you around, and you laughed as the rain continued to fall around you. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, dancing together in the pouring rain.

You were both soaked, but you didn't seem to care. You were a good dancer, Jason thought as you both moved in rhythm to the rain. The storm had brought out a side of him that he hadn't known was even there. He smiled as you twirled, feeling more alive than he had in months. It was like nothing else mattered except for this moment with you.

As he held you close, he realized that even in the worst of situations, he could always find a way to enjoy life. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew that as long as you were by his side.

Tim

Tim’s first date with you was in a mall. He wanted to go to the arcade with you and have some fun. As he prepares for you, he will often have high confidence. But when he approaches you, he often fiddles with his hands or nervously looks in another direction.

Tim has trouble decision making as well, should he buy you cupcakes or ice cream? Buy you clothes or are you just fine without shopping? He doesn’t know. The arcade was at the top floor of the building, he started to do the math in his head.

‘If we used an escalator, it’d be slower and the mall was a bit crowded today but walking around the mall could be good exercises and walking helps think a lot. Oh, but what if they don’t like long distances? We can always use those electronic stroller things… no it won’t work. The elevator would be the fastest way but it could be awkward- oh, forget it let’s just use the elevator!’

The elevator was fine, until suddenly it stopped. The lights went out. And it was now dark inside. The elevator was stuck between two levels. When Tim pressed the buttons, they didn't seem to work at all. You tried as well but no matter what the elevator won't budge.

Oh great.

Tim tried calling for help on his phone, but there's no service. At all. "We should’ve used the escalator.." Tim complains to himself. He sighed in frustration and then turned to look at you. "This was an awful first date, I’m sorry.” Tim groans as he sits on the floor.

“It’s fine,” You respond, smiling. The elevator was dark, but it wasn’t too dark. You sat beside him, trying to stay warm. You both remained close in the silence of the elevator.

You held his hand and looked at him “You don’t need to overthink too much Tim, it’s just me.” you whispered. Tim let out a soft sigh of relief, intertwining his fingers with yours. He gently squeezed your hand, offering some silent reassurance. "You're right. I just... I don't want to mess this up, you know? I really like you, and this date means a lot." He gazed into your eyes.

“I was hoping to impress you with this. But instead I just managed to get us stuck in an elevator. Now that's real skill." Tim let out a chuckle, trying to ease the tension with a bit of humor. He leaned back, resting his head against the elevator wall.

"So, I guess we have some time to kill now. Anything you want to talk about? Got any deep, philosophical questions on your mind? Maybe I can impress you with my brilliant intellect and detective skills." Tim grinned playfully. You chuckled at his sudden change of mood “Can I get a kiss detective?”

Tim's heart skipped a beat at your request, and a hint of a rosy blush crept across his cheeks. Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in closer to you. It was in that perfect moment that the lights suddenly flickered back on, and the elevator began to move again. "Wow," Tim scoffed, “Talk about perfect timing.” he scowls.

You laughed as you quickly stole a kiss “There, is that better?”

Tim's expression melted into a warm smile as you stole a kiss. A subtle blush lingered on his cheeks. "Much better," he replied, his voice a soft murmur. The elevator hummed as it resumed its ascent, bringing you both back into the world above.

[wizlizbelle3]

My challenge to induce pure consciousness before Christmas🎄

Hello everyone,

So I know that in my earlier posts I said that I am not really in favor of challenges but I see a lot of people struggling and overcomplicating the void and I've decided to make a challenge that will get you into the void state in less than 3 days if you really stick to it, and if you don't stick to it consistently, you'll still be able to get into the void before December 25th (which is like 26 days away from now).

The challenge is to use SATs to enter the void state and I'll explain how. But first, y'all need to understand what the void is exactly.

SO when you have to eat your breakfast, do you google or search youtube videos on how to eat? Or if you want to fall asleep, do you google how to fall asleep? We actually don't know what causes us to fall asleep if you think about it. So when we set the intention, our subconscious follows through because we've always been doing it and no one told us that sleeping is not real. So the void state is just another state of consciousness that doesn't need to be forced and it cannot be forced. You just set the intention. However, people have been programmed to believe that things like the void are too good to be true (SMFH).

SOOOOO here's the challenge:

STEP ONE is to do ANY kind of yoga, workout, or stretch before bed. You can do breathing sitting up or simply a meditation to calm your mind. Make sure to not use electronics before bed for at least an hour.

STEP TWO is to get into a comfortable position. It doesn't matter which position, just one that you know you can stay in for as long as necessary.

STEP THREE is to choose what you want to do in SATs. To induce the void, you choose to induce the void. You can say it to yourself or just relax and know what you want.

STEP FOUR is to begin to relax your body. You can do PMR where you tense then release each part of your body, then do breathing or anything until you have become completely relaxed.

STEP FIVE is to either visualize waking up with your desired face or whatever thing you want to get from the void and telling someone that you induced the void. Anything that indicates that you woke up in the void. OR you use the lullaby method where you pick one affirmation (I am in the void aware or I have induced pure consciousness). OR you can do both.

STEP SIX is to make sure you go to sleep with this affirmation or visualization in your mind. This is probably the most important part and what makes this method successful.

Please go watch "Neville Goddard Ladder lecture" in order to get how this works. BUT IT D O E S. Stop being so needy and do the challenge. It's literally not hard and there's no "failure". It's just a state.

Oh, and I made a playlist that I'll link down below for you to listen to throughout the day. It's not necessary but it helped me be happy and get rid of the "omg nothing wowks fow meeeeeee :(((" mentality. I will also link a good, trustworthy SATs subliminal that i used YEARS ago (like two years) and then didn't use again because I became obsessed with trying new methods.

If you have any questions, you can message me BUT I am enjoying my life rn and chilling so I won't respond immediately. Plus, everything you need to know is already on @b4ddprincess 's page and also my earlier posts address tons of things. Again, stop being needy.

[spideyjimin]

Right time | jjk

⤷ part of the timing series

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, nervousness, swearing, mention of sex, sexual tension, teasing, mention of jk being a fuckboy, mention of breakup, mention of heartbreak, mention of death, mention of grief, crying, mention of sadness, dry humping, masturbation, mention of heartbreak, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, mention of going through a though time, broken hearts, mention of suffering, mention of unhappiness, and heartbreak

⏤ words: 10,724

⏤ summary: following your reunion with jungkook, getting back together seems to be the right thing to do however everything is different. jungkook is a father, running the company you’re working for, and there are still things to be solved. nonetheless, it can’t erase the tremendous physical attraction between you. is it now the right or wrong time?  

⏤ author’s note: this part is finally out! it's been quite some work but it's finally out and all yours! since it's finally posted, I can already let you know that there will be a third part called perfect time. the teaser will be posted tomorrow 😬 i hope you like this part, let me know what you think! thanks a lot for your support & for waiting patiently for this part 💛

To say that Jungkook was nervous was an understatement. He’s going out on a date with you. He’s literally screaming on the inside like a 5-year-old that finally got the candy they were asking for. He’s been waiting for this for years and also, he hasn’t been on a proper date in a while. But he’s very much excited. 

“Hi,” you say as you step outside of the apartment complex. 

A bright smile appears on both of your faces when you see each other. Honestly, having had sex a couple of days ago brought some happiness to your lives. You’ve been feeling more alive than ever, and nothing can erase that feeling. Well, at least, that’s what you thought. 

There are still things left to discuss but right now, you’re both on cloud 9 so you don’t feel the necessity to talk. You simply want to stay in your little cloud a little longer which means that you’ll do everything to stay there. 

“Hi, yn,” Jungkook offers you the bouquet he’s holding in his hands. 

“Thanks for the flowers,” you reply as you take the bouquet. 

Your eyes move from Jungkook to the flower arrangement, it’s a very pretty one. This kind of surprises you since Jungkook never bought you flowers when you dated before but you have to forget about the past. Things are different now as you both are very different people today. 

“Arya helped me choose them,” the smile on his face grows bigger while remembering being in the flower shop with her. 

At first, he was planning to go alone to buy you flowers but then, he was spending the day with his daughter so he brought her up to have her little opinion. Now, she’s staying at her mama’s place for the 3 upcoming days. Jungkook hasn’t mentioned anything about you to Eunji yet but for sure, Arya will mention the bouquet to her mother so he’s very much aware that he’ll have to at least explain something to Eunji. 

“Well, you both have good taste in flowers,” you quickly smell the beautiful bouquet. 

“She’s my daughter so she definitely has good tastes,” he instantaneously answers. 

A little laugh leaves your lips at his words. That’s easy to say when it’s your own daughter, you think but his words also warm your heart. It’s so sweet that he let his daughter assist him in choosing a bouquet of flowers for you. And it’s also extremely sweet how he speaks about her. 

“Your tastes can be very much questionable,” you tease him. 

With surprise, he raises an eyebrow. He definitely wasn’t expecting to hear you say those words but he’s undeniably liking being teased by the woman he loves deeply. 

“If mines are questionable, then yours are dubious,” he doesn’t hesitate to reply, “especially your taste in men,” he adds. 

“For sure, it is because I’m still wondering how on earth I could have fallen for you,” you end up laughing. 

But the truth is how you could have not fallen for him. It’s easy to love him, and it feels even easier to be loved by this man. There are for sure many things to say about your love for him but it’d take you probably days or weeks or even more to list all the reasons you fell hard for him. 

“That’s exactly what I was referring to,” he adds. “Not sure how you fell for me, especially back then.” 

Hearing him saying that inevitably breaks your heart, even if he’s joking. For sure, back then, he wasn’t the best person on earth, he was a fuckboy after all. He was very much known on the campus for being the guy who fucks every girl he meets, and for being a heartbreaker. But he was perfect for you. Beyond that image of fuckboy, he was the sweetest guy you had ever met.  

“Don’t say that,” you gently slap him on the arm. 

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you saw in me when we started dating,” his stare becomes quite sincere.  

Now, your heart is very much broken by his words. This man doesn’t even see how pretty and amazing he is. But beyond that, he’s without any doubt the most brilliant person you’ve ever met. Even back then, what charmed you was his mind and heart. It was never about his looks because if it was for that, you wouldn’t have approached him at all. He was a fuckboy, the kind of guy that you hated. 

“I saw your heart underneath all those walls,” you say before placing your hand on his chest, right above his heart. 

Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. He can’t even express what he’s feeling right now but he’s absolutely sure of one thing, he feels lucky to be with you here and now. His hand caresses yours, both of you with a little smile on your faces. This moment is undeniably heartwarming for the two of you. 

“But you were the only person that I let in,” he whispers. “You’re the only one that got to see who I truly was.” 

At his words, you inevitably squeeze him in your arms for a tight hug, your head pressed against his chest. It surprises him but he holds you back. While hugging you, it reminds him just how much he missed it. When you were together, you used to hug each other a lot. It brought a lot of peace to the two of you, it was a moment where everything would disappear for an instant. It was a moment of pure happiness. 

Just as it is right now.

None of you want this moment to end. This feels extremely good. You hold him even tighter in your arms, you don’t desire to let go of him. You close your eyes to enjoy this moment even more. This is something you also missed deeply. Well, to be honest, you deeply missed Jungkook. Maybe more than you’ll ever admit. 

“I love this,” you whisper very low. 

Jungkook hears it and can’t help but smile even more. He doesn’t say anything, he’s simply enjoying this moment with you. Hopefully, this won’t be a one-time thing. He’s hopeful that you’ll get to do this more often. Because a hug always heals a heart. 

“We should probably get going,” Jungkook says before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head. 

With a heavy heart, you pull away from the man you love. You walk to his car and he opens the door for you. Feeling like a princess, you enter his priceless car. It’s undoubtedly a very expensive car but as a CEO, he can afford tons of luxurious stuff. Your eyes wander around, admiring this wonderful and expensive car. 

Jungkook jumps in the car seconds after you. His eyes take in the pretty girl sitting on the passenger seat. That’s a sight he never thought he’d get to see and it absolutely warms his softened heart. Hopefully, from now on, this will be a view he’ll see more often. His face turns to the windshield to start driving.  

For the two of you, being here right now brings you back to ten years ago. Your ex-boyfriend would drive you everywhere, it would always be good. Most of the time, you’d sing along to songs he’d chosen but he’d always take the ones you two liked. Some other times, you’d have intense conversations about random topics or yourselves. Tons of talks took place in his previous car, even hard conversations. 

Honestly, you’re feeling a bit nervous. It’s exciting to be with him at the moment however, you’re a bit fearful that an unpleasant topic of conversation will be brought up. Even if you’re on cloud 9, you’re still very much aware that there are a lot of things to be talked about. You broke his heart, that’s not something that can be erased with some conversations and sex. For sure, sex isn’t the answer to his broken heart. 

But right now, you don’t want to think about it, so you brush away any sour thoughts. You’re on a date with him and you should enjoy it as much as you possibly can. This will maybe help you to get to a better place. 

“How have your parents been doing?” he asks, his eyes quickly looking at you. 

Following the kind of ‘closure’ conversation you had at his place, he kept wondering how your parents were doing, especially after the death of one of their children. Even though it’s been 10 years since your sister passed away, it must still be very hard for them. He can only imagine how it feels. He’d stop living if Arya passed away, his life wouldn’t make any sense without her, and his heart would be beyond broken. 

“Now, they are kind of doing better,” you reply. “But losing a child is something that changed them completely, they aren’t the same and I strongly believe they’ll never fully grieve.” 

Your heart breaks as you recall all the times you found your parents crying over your sister. Things haven’t been easy since that tragic day but you’ve always been there for them. They also have been very much present for you. It was hard for all of you because you all lost someone very dear to you. But today, days are better. It’s easier to smile, to enjoy little things in life, and to simply live.      

“I lost a sister and it’s already very awful but losing a child…” you start saying while shaking a bit your head. “I don’t even want to imagine the tremendous void that it leaves in your heart.” 

You haven’t had a child yet so this is a kind of pain that you cannot understand. But she was your sister. It was still a very painful loss and for sure, something you were never prepared to face. However, with time, you started getting used to the constant ache inside your heart. It’s there, all the time, and some days, it destroys you. During those moments, missing her becomes too overwhelming. 

“I’m still very sorry for your loss,” he tells you. 

He quickly glances at you. As your eyes meet, you can tell that he’s extremely sincere. When he breaks contact, you stare at the wonderful night sky. Right now, you’re feeling extremely nostalgic. Being in a car with Jungkook brings you back to when your sister was still alive. After a little outing with your boyfriend, you’d come home and find her reading a book in her bed. That thought alone brings tears to your eyes. 

Before you can even realize it, tears are rolling down your face. Now all you can see is her face with a bright smile while she’s saying some nonsense that she used to say. She used to make you laugh with the silly things she’d say. She was a sunshine. A shining one. But it’s gone now and it will never come back.  

Jungkook immediately stops the car to the side. It breaks his heart to see you like this. Now he’s the one being brought back to ten years ago. Following the passing of your sister, he was the one holding at first. He was the one consoling you when your world fell apart. 

“Hey, yn,” he says before pulling you into his arms, your eyes instantly closing. 

For sure, it’s not comfortable at all but you manage to put your head on his strong arms. At that moment, you let yourself cry. Jungkook presses gentle kisses on top of your head, his left hand caressing your shoulder while his right hand caresses your back. He’s trying as much as he can to soothe you but he feels helpless. Seeing someone he deeply loves devastated always makes him feel powerless.  

Jungkook never meant to cause any pain by asking how your parents were doing but he should have thought better. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers in between kisses. 

You hold him tightly while you cry your heart out. This really comes as a surprise for you but it might be due to the fact that seeing your ex-boyfriend has brought back memories from the past. You definitely didn’t think that you’d start crying on your actual first date. You’ve been extremely happy following the very steamy session with your ex and this right now is the exact opposite. 

“Please forgive me for bringing this up,” he adds. 

This is definitely not his fault. It’s no one’s fault, except for the driver that killed your sister. He was completely drunk, was driving on the wrong side of the road, and around a bend, he drove full force into the car your sister was in. Your sister and her boyfriend died instantly. So, to conclude, it’s the driver’s fault. It’ll forever be his fault. 

Slowly, you start to calm down in Jungkook’s arms. They are extremely comforting, just as they were ten years ago. 

“It’s not your fault, Kook,” you say. 

His lips press another gentle kiss on top of your head. 

“We can cancel the date if you don’t feel like it,” he tells you. 

For sure, he wouldn’t feel comfortable going on a date with you when you’re feeling like this. Even if he was excited to spend this time with you, your safety and happiness come first. 

“No,” you reply, “I really want to go to the restaurant.” 

You clean your eyes in an attempt to look presentable but there are no doubts that the makeup you spent hours working on is completely ruined. Probably you ruined everything now. What was supposed to be a cheerful moment has turned into a crying session. 

“You’re sure?” he asks with concern.

“Yep,” you directly say. 

You take a deep breath before sitting correctly on your seat and parting from Jungkook’s strong arms. His eyes scan your face carefully, trying to understand how broken you are. To his surprise, he’s just watching sadness in your eyes. Ten years ago, the only thing he’d see in your eyes was emptiness. To tell the truth, he was expecting to see that in your eyes but there’s just sadness. In some way, it reassures him because emptiness makes him feel helpless. 

Sadness is something he can help you with. He has seen that a lot in Arya’s face and in yours as well. For that, he can do something, he will for sure find a way to cheer you up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remove the sadness he caused in your eyes. 

“You’re absolutely stunning, yn,” he mumbles. 

Your cheeks blush at his words, your eyes are still teary but a small smile still manages to make its way onto your face. 

“How can you find me stunning in this state?” you ask. 

Without any doubt, the mascara runs down your face, your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are red from your cries and also from his compliment, and your hair is a bit messy from your hug. However, you look absolutely wonderful in his eyes. This is the real you, and he wouldn’t want to see anything else than the real you. 

“You’re stunning under any circumstances, yn,” he answers. 

“Don’t say that,” you shyly say. 

“I’m just telling the truth,” 

A little smile appears on his face, he definitely loves to see you acting all shy around him. That’s a sign that he makes you feel something and he loves to see it in the girl that he always loved. 

“Stop saying nonsense and let’s go to the restaurant,” you reply. 

Undoubtedly, if he keeps staring at you like you’re some kind of goddess, you’ll kiss him and probably beg him to fuck you in this car. But that will be a way to forget this awful feeling and you can’t use Jungkook to make you stop thinking about your sister for a brief moment. He doesn’t deserve that, not after all that you made him go through for the past ten years. 

“As you wish, ma’am,” he answers. 

A little laugh escapes your lips while your ex starts the car again. All the way to the restaurant, Jungkook keeps making you laugh, slowly pushing away the sadness you felt earlier. During the entire time, you feel grateful this man even exists. Nobody has ever made you feel this way. 

Once you arrive at the restaurant, Jungkook places his hand on your lower back while walking to your table. A table reserved by him the day before. The restaurant is extremely fancy and is without any doubt very expensive. This is your first time in this type of restaurant. 

The dinner goes well, Jungkook tries to cheer you up all along, an attention that honestly warms your heart. He purposely tries to avoid mentioning the name of your sister, too scared to make you cry once more. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he ruined the date again. 

Spending this time with him was wonderful. He spoke a lot about his daughter Arya, he’s for sure extremely proud of her. From what you got to see and hear, he’s an excellent father to that little girl. They are both lucky to have each other. 

Once you’re done eating and discussing, you leave the restaurant. Jungkook doesn’t let you pay although you really insisted on paying at least a little something. However, he promised to let you pay next time. You know for sure that it will never happen, he’s never going to let you pay anything. 

Right now, you’re both walking to his car. As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body. 

“Thanks for the dinner, Kook,” you tell him. 

His face turns to glance at you. A gentle and sincere smile appears on his face but what really catches your attention is the way he’s looking at you. There’s so much affectation and tenderness. No man has ever looked at you the way he’s currently doing. Undoubtedly, he’s the one for you. He always has been.  

“Do you want to do something? Or do you want to go home?” he asks you. 

For a brief moment, you hesitate but you’d love to spend more time with him. You don’t want this moment with him to be over. You simply want this to last forever but it’s not possible. There’s a point in time when you’ll have to go home and sleep. In a couple of hours, this moment will turn into a memory that you’ll cherish deeply but you definitely don’t want it to be a souvenir just yet. 

“Maybe we could do something,” you answer. 

“Would you like to go to my place and have some cocktails?” he asks. “I’ve become quite an expert at preparing them.” 

That definitely surprises you. You can’t imagine him preparing a cocktail but there’s absolutely no doubt that you desire nothing more than to taste one of his cocktail creations. 

“Let’s do that,” you say with a bright smile on your face. 

The drive to his place goes by pretty smoothly. The two of you are in your own world, it’s like nothing ever happened between you. It’s just like you’re back to loving each other. The crushing reality is quite different but none of you wish to face it at this precise moment. It’s quite obvious that one day it will happen and it won’t be a fun moment for both of you. Being purposely ignorant can cause great pain, more than you can dream of. 

Once you arrive at his mansion, he invites you to enter first. Jungkook stays at the entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are devouring you. This is something he never thought he’d ever witness and he feels a mix of emotions. On one side, he’s actually very delighted that it’s happening but on the other side, he’s not very sure this is supposed to happen after all the pain you put him through. 

To him, you’re beautiful in every way. The green dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out, he did it quite a lot when you were together. However, this time is different. This time comes after 10 years of no contact. It feels like he shouldn’t be doing it. 

You turn around to look at the man behind you. The way he’s staring at you catches you off guard and takes your breath instantly away. There’s affection and tenderness. With just one stare, a feeling of love grows inside you. This makes it more real that there’s a possibility of trying again. A possibility that warms your heart and scares the hell out of you at the same time. 

“You’re not coming?” you finally ask. 

“Yes, yes,” he agrees while entering and closing the door behind him. 

The precise moment he closes the door, he gets closer to you. A little too close. His eyes stare into yours, your heart starts beating faster as you realize how close you actually are. There’s barely any space between your faces. His eyes quickly look down at your lips, and unwittingly, yours do exactly the same. Suddenly, the tension between you becomes very tense and sexual. 

“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. 

In a matter of seconds, you both end up in the living room. The same room where you met for the first time his adorable daughter. Honestly, you don’t really know how you arrived there. Jungkook simply grabbed your hand before basically running through his house to the first room. 

Once in the room, your ex doesn’t hesitate, pressing his lips against yours for a fervent kiss. Even if this kiss is the mere result of the extremely high sexual tension between you, it still feels tender. It reminds you of the kisses exchanged while you were together. In the middle of this sensual moment, this kiss warms your heart. 

Your hands find their way to his hair while he kisses you hungrily. His hands are placed on your lower back, slowly pushing you closer to him. This feels like he doesn’t want you to run away from you, even for the slightest bit. For sure, you’re not going anywhere right now. You solely desire to lose yourself in all this lust. Until this flame isn’t consumed, there’s no way you’re leaving this house.  

To be honest, a couple of weeks ago, you would have never imagined kissing your ex-boyfriend again. The breakup wasn’t easy, plus, you were the type of person to be convinced that it’s never a good idea to get back with your ex. But oh lord, this is Jungkook. How can you ever resist this man? 

Jungkook slowly walks backward before sitting on the couch, causing you to sit down on his lap. He desires nothing more than to sense more friction. This action lifts your dress, revealing more of the skin on your legs. He’s yearning to touch you in every possible way but this closeness between your bodies is driving him crazy. The two of you are gasping hard but it clearly doesn’t matter. 

You desire more and more.

As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, revealing his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in full display just for you. His body is sculpted as a Greek god. His hard work at the gym has definitely paid off. What will forever surprise you is the fact that underneath his perfect suit, his arm is covered in tattoos. It seems so contradictory. But it only makes him even more desirable in your eyes. 

Jungkook glances at you. All that he can see in your eyes is lust. Honestly, it’s all that matters to him right now and it swells his chest with pride. You can’t help but touch his soft skin and he lets you do whatever you want. The CEO of Jeon Industries shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. Your lips press against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. His tongue licks your bottom lip before his teeth grip it, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants, he’s growing harder underneath you. 

When you open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside to finally meet yours. A moan leaves your lips at the feeling, and unintentionally, Jungkook flexes his toned thigh underneath you. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it causes you to whine again. 

This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands move down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms, his hands feeling so huge on your body. Before doing anything else, Jungkook pulls one of his legs out from under you, making you sit on top of only one leg. As he does so, you adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook having now a proper view of your beige panties, your clothed pussy brushing now against his dark pants. 

Both of you know where this is going. Probably it isn’t a good idea but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more, and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, yn,” he groans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.  

Jungkook presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels marvelous, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook definitely desires to bring this to the next level. Honestly, it is a shared feeling.  

As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more. 

“I love the way you’re riding my thigh, princess,” he whispers against your lips. “But I need to feel you properly against my thigh.”  

One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh. Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy. 

“I adore to hear you moan, baby girl,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

His tongue licks your ear, a little trick that will bring you closer to the orgasm. A little trick that he learned when you were together. It’s your weakness, and he knows it. Since you’ve been very intimate together, he knows your body by heart and everything he needs to do to bring you down on your knees. However, by doing so, he also brings himself closer to the orgasm. Hearing you moaning and seeing you completely overwhelmed by what he does arouses him a lot. There’s proof of it right now as his length is getting harder and tighter on his pants. He’s definitely about to explode. 

Honestly, even if you would try to speak, you wouldn’t be able to form a proper sentence. Your mind is way too consumed by this blissful moment. You can’t even think properly but damn, you’re enjoying every second.   

“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with quite some desperation in his voice. 

Before you can even process what he said, he gently inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s thick and long, this sight alone gets you wetter.    

You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length. 

This man is as filthy as he was before. It clearly reminds you of the beginning of your relationship, when you had your first time together. It was explosive because man, he had a lot of experience due to his fuckboy past. For sure, over time, it got even better because you started to discover each other.   

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, baby girl.”

You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and you know that you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.  

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, baby.” Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth. 

He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.” 

You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close. 

“Jk,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!” 

The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the orgasm hitting you hard and you feel it in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling.  The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand. 

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes. 

Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from this wonderful night with him. Jungkook feels it but doesn’t say anything, enjoying having you in his arms. This hadn’t happened in years so he enjoys every single second passed with you. As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan.

“I’m just putting back my pants, baby,” he whispers in your ear. He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in my bed, you’ll be better.”

“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.” 

Even though he craves nothing more than to have you in his arms, this position is very uncomfortable for the two of you. It’s best to go to his bed, it’s way more comfortable than his couch. Jungkook stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in his bedroom, he carefully places you in his bed before lying beside you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms. 

“Have you introduced a girlfriend to Arya?” Eunji asks Jungkook. 

A little smile appears on his face. Undoubtedly, Arya has spoken about the flower situation to her mother or maybe she has mentioned the time when she met you at his place. Maybe she even mentioned both.  

“What did she tell you?” Jungkook asks the mother of his daughter. 

Honestly, Jungkook doesn’t even know how to explain this situation to Eunji. You’re not his girlfriend but you’re not a friend as well. You’re in an in-between situation. It’s a situationship like many people may say. 

“Apparently, she met a ‘female’ friend of yours and she helped you choose a bouquet of flowers. A bouquet that I deduced you offered to that said friend,” she tells him. 

“Well,” he starts saying, “I’ve been seeing my ex.”

His mind is brought back to three nights ago when you went on a date. The next day, the two of you went completely wild. You stayed at his place and spent almost the entire day having sex. It was wild but definitely amazing. There’s no doubt that the physical attraction is still very much present. 

“Yn?” she asks. 

Of course, she has heard about you. They’ve been friends for quite some time and he has been very open about his past with you. She knows that you’re the only ex he’d ever see again, that you’re the only ex he ever loved.  

Jungkook simply nods, not knowing what to say to her. Actually, he wants to first see her reaction before adding anything else. Honestly, he’s scared of her reaction, he deeply cares about her and her opinion. At the end of the day, she’s the mother of his daughter, they are linked forever. 

“Jk, are you sure it’s a good idea?” she asks him.

She’s quite concerned about him. Even if she always knew that he still deeply loved you, she constantly prayed that you wouldn’t meet again. She doesn’t want him to be heartbroken once more. He doesn’t deserve it, he has a golden heart she’ll protect at any cost. 

“At this stage, we’re simply talking and hanging out together. Nothing more,” he tells her. 

In a way, she’s happy that Arya told her about all this because now, she’ll keep an eye on her daughter’s father. Also, if he gets heartbroken once more, inevitably it will have an impact on their daughter as well. She’ll see her father constantly sad even if Jungkook tries to hide it and she’ll try to cheer him up.  

“But would you want to try again?” she raises with concern. 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he starts saying. “I love being with her, talking about the past, and discovering what we have become. For sure, everything is different but it scares and excites me at the same time.” 

Being around you is a blessing for him but when you’re not together in your little bubble, he thinks about the full situation. It’s extremely frightening. There’s some trust that has been broken, and a heart that aches. Also, your lives are totally different. Jungkook is a father, running one of the biggest companies in the country. You’re his employee, you’ve been engaged and you lost your sister. You’re both totally different people now. 

However, this is a situation that he kept dreaming of for the past ten years. Every day, he wished you’d come back. So he believes he can’t throw away this opportunity but if it doesn’t work out, at least, he would have tried. He wouldn’t regret and he’s convinced that he would more easily move on from you.   

“It’s normal, Jk,” she says, “so much time has passed.” 

He couldn’t agree more with her. Ten years is quite a lot and it’s definitely what also scares him. What if in the end, it’s never the right time? What if you are never meant to get back together? All those questions keep haunting him when he’s by himself. Nevertheless, he tries to not overthink. It’s unquestionably not a good idea, especially since he has so much to think about at work.       

“I know,” he answers while running his hand through his hair. “But I don’t want to overthink this situation, let’s take it day by day and we’ll see the outcome.” 

Eunji simply nods. Obviously, he’s not comfortable talking about all this right now. She’s not going to force him, it has to come from him. 

“Just try to be careful with Arya,” she reminds him. “She’s very young and it’s best she isn’t involved in our relationships before we’re secure it’s serious.” 

They established this rule years ago. It has always seemed so easy for Jungkook to respect it since he only had one-night stands but this time around, it appears quite difficult. Arya already met you by accident, she sometimes questions him about you. 

“I’m aware of it, Eunji and I’ll make sure they never meet again,” he answers. 

She smiles, happy that he’ll ensure that her daughter isn’t involved in a heartbreak. Knowing Arya, she’ll also be sad if suddenly she stops seeing you. She can easily get attached to people so it’s always best to provide her with some stability. 

The little girl suddenly appears in the kitchen where both her parents are. She smiles when she sees them, a smile they both return back to her. She’s the person they both love the most, she lights their world in a way they can’t express. This love is what will forever tie them together. They created this wonderful little girl. Jungkook always believed they did a good job when conceiving and educating her. 

“Is mommy eating too tonight?” she asks, looking at them two. 

Before Eunji has the time to answer, Jungkook proceeds to reply to his daughter. 

“Yes, she is,” he says with a bright smile, “We’ll have a little family dinner.” 

Happiness suddenly radiates from Arya’s face. Her mother can’t say no now that Jungkook said she’ll stay. Her daughter’s father trapped her but she won’t complain. She adores it when the three of them spend time together. Those moments are rare however they are always filled with joy. What always warms their heart is seeing how content Arya is. Nothing will ever beat that.   

The entire night, Jungkook completely forgets about you. There’s just him, Eunji, and Arya. This is a moment deeply cherished that will forever stay in his heart. This is a moment that can heal his broken heart. This is a moment where time completely stops. This is a moment where he’s simply proud of the family he built. He’d do everything to protect them at all costs. For sure, this isn’t the kind of family he expected to have but his family is perfect. At the end of the day, both he and Eunji try as hard as they can to make everything work, which is all that really matters. 

At some point, he just looks at them with a big smile on his face. 

Eunji and him never tried to be together. They had a one-night stand that resulted in creating Arya but never have they thought of getting involved romantically. They have always been good friends and amazing co-parents. It’s sometimes not easy but what’s important is that they always find a common ground. 

There are some moments where he wonders how things would have looked like if you remained together. Would he have started his company? Would you have started a family? Would you be married? Would you be happy together? All those questions will forever remain unanswered but he’s very proud of everything he accomplished with this void inside his heart. 

For sure, getting his heart broken made him work hard. So hard that he built the Jeon Empire from scratch. An empire that started with Jeon Industries. An empire that he’ll bequeath to his daughter. This would have probably never existed with you by his side. 

But now that he has it all, will he manage to have the one last thing that he’s always wanted? Or will it be too much for him to handle? 

For the past month, you and Jungkook have been seeing each other quite often. Of course, it’s impossible when he’s with his daughter, which is totally understandable. She comes first and he needs to spend as much time as possible with her. You would never dare to even say anything about it, you actually even encourage him to spend more time with her. Those moments together are what she will forever remember and cherish. 

As you enter the elevator, you notice at the end the man that haunts your dreams. A little smile appears on your face. Without any hesitation, you make your way to the end to be near him. There’s no doubt that you’re not going to be able to say or do anything as there are other employees. But you can be near each other, even for a brief moment. When you get closer to him, he also notices you. Jungkook tries to hide the little smile forming on his face. 

“Miss y/l/n,” he speaks when you’re next to him. 

“Mr. Jeon,” you reply. 

If anyone was truly looking at you, they would notice the way you’re staring at each other. Or should we say, the way you’re devouring each other with your gaze. There’s so much affection and tenderness in his eyes, it immediately warms your heart. Jungkook doesn’t have to say anything, his eyes speak louder than any word he could ever say. Whenever he lands his eyes on you, he always feels loved. Every part of his being feels it. He doesn’t doubt that his feelings are reciprocated. 

Scared to be caught, you look away. Being this close while he’s your boss is kind of a tricky situation. Honestly, you’re truly considering quitting the company. This is becoming way too delicate, you can’t stay in this company while you’re clearly in love with your boss. It’s not about what people would say because honestly, you don’t give a shit about it. It’s just that it can create conflicts of interest. He’s your superior, and your relationship might affect any decision he makes regarding you. And knowing yourself, you’ll always believe that whatever decision he makes will always be considered to help your career. 

Actually, you’ve already prepared your resignation letter. It’s sitting in a drawer of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment to be given to the director of your department, Kim Taehyung. The excuse you’ll give is that working in a massive company such as Jeon Industries caused you more anxiety than expected. Taehyung will for sure be surprised and will probably convince you to stay. You haven’t been here for a year but it’s most likely the best to do. Nobody needs to know the truth but you can’t stay while this love is blossoming. 

Quickly, your eyes gaze at Jungkook once more. It breaks your heart to think that you’ll leave the company any time soon. However, it will be easier for you two. The CEO notices the quick glance you took but he doesn’t do anything. He’s too afraid of what he could do or say in the presence of his other employees. Once you reach the fifth level, you leave the elevator with a heavy heart. You love being near Jungkook, it’s rather hard to be far from him. Your ex watches you walk away from him. Just like you, it’s hard to see you exit the elevator, putting a physical distance between you. 

Pretending that there’s nothing going on between you is extremely hard. This is the other reason pushing you to leave the company. As time passes, you both grow confident that this is the right time for you but one day or another, the other people working here will notice it. It will be even harder to quit then. It’s better to take measures before the inevitable happens. 

The rest of the day goes by quite fast for you but the resignation letter has been a lot more present on your mind. So it has led you to this precise moment. You’re in front of Jungkook’s secretary’s desk, waiting for her to let you inside his office. Your heart is beating extremely fast in your chest, your hands are shaking, and you’re getting very nervous. 

“Miss y/l/n, you can come in,” she says with a little smile while she holds the door. 

You nod before walking in her direction. “Thank you,” you tell her as you pass in front of her. She closes the door behind you, leaving you now alone with the big boss. 

When you enter the massive room, you find Jungkook walking in your direction, clear concern painted on his face. Your eyes scan him, he’s wearing a white shirt with dark blue suit pants. His sleeves are slightly lifted, he was for sure very focused on his work. Now you feel guilty to be bothering him with your shitty thing. He was probably working on something way more important than you, you think.

What you totally ignore is that the company is facing quite a huge problem. An issue that Jungkook is trying to solve but it’s been hard. He was working on it before his secretary announced your presence. 

“Yn,” he speaks, “is everything okay?” 

Jungkook is concerned because never before you came to his office. As soon as his secretary said your name, his heart started racing in his chest, his mind imagining the worst happened to you. 

He gets close to you, his hands grab your face and his eyes scan your face to make sure you’re doing well. He sees something in your eyes that he can’t quite describe. There’s some sadness, that’s undeniable but there’s something else. A something that he can’t quite put his finger on. 

“Everything is fine, Jk,” you tell him with a little smile appearing on your face. 

“No, there’s something otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he instantly replies back. 

Indubitably, this man knows you, but it doesn’t surprise you. You’ve been spending the last month talking a lot, and you also dated for 2 years in the past. 

“I will give my resignation letter to Mr. Kim tomorrow morning,” you inform him. 

Before quitting, you wanted to inform him personally. You didn’t want him to find it out through Taehyung that you’ll be leaving. Knowing him, he’ll be very angry. 

“Why?” he frowns. 

“Because of all this between us,” you immediately reply. 

Jungkook takes a step back to look at you properly. To be honest, this surprises him a lot. In his mind, you were never going to quit and you would figure out together how to navigate this situation. But he was obviously wrong. 

“I can’t stay here while we flirt together outside work,” you add. “You’re my superior and inevitably, it will be a problem one day. It will be a lot harder to leave at that time so I prefer to do it now.” 

“No,” he answers while turning his back on you. 

“This is my decision, Jungkook, not yours.” 

There’s no way you’re letting this man tell you what to do. Leaving is your decision and he can’t object. Actually doing it will make you quite angry. It's a decision that will benefit you both. Plus, it seems obvious that he can’t leave his company. 

“It’s something we should discuss together before making this kind of decision,” he replies. He doesn’t turn around to look at you. He’s still in shock at what he just heard, it feels unreal to him. 

“We both know you’ll never agree to it or you’ll try to find a solution but the only reasonable solution is me finding a job in another company,” you explain while walking in his direction. 

Jungkook shakes his head. He’s convinced there’s another way but he can’t let you lose this opportunity of working in one of the best companies. He knows how happy you were to join his company, he knows it was your dream because this would be a massive opportunity for you to work with the best people in the industrie. Seeing each other can’t be a barrier to that. 

“Look at you,” you say, “you’re completely refusing it but I have to go, I have to work somewhere else if we want to give a shot at whatever we are doing. I choose you over this job.” 

Maybe it’s not the best decision you’re making because you should never put a man before your dreams. But that man ain’t any man. With Jungkook, you also speak a lot about work and together, you can help each other. Even if you start working for another company, he will give you his input in whatever you’re doing, if you ask it of course. For sure, you wouldn’t be able to tell him what project you’re working on but if you ask him what he thinks of this or that, he’ll gladly help. At the end of the day, you both did the same studies. 

“You can’t do that, you can’t choose me over your career,” he says while finally facing you. 

“But think about it,” you start saying. “If I stay, it will generate a conflict of interest for you. We will both be in an uncomfortable position, I will doubt every decision you make that involves me and you’ll also consider me when making a decision. That’s not right, neither for us nor for the other employees,” you argue. 

Jungkook has already thought about this all but he knows there will be no impact. He’s way too high in the hierarchy and you’re at the bottom. Taehyung is the one making decisions directly involving you, but still there, there’s your manager, Jimin in between you and Taehyung. In any case, Taehyung’s decisions will be made following instructions that he received from Hoseok, the CFO, and that he directly received from Jungkook. There are some people involved in between. His instructions will only be considered for the sake of the company. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Look, there are Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin between us.” It seems so weird to you to hear the first names of your superiors. “My decisions are made for the sake of the company so I don’t see how it can directly affect you and only you. The three of them follow my instructions but they can adapt them. Most of the time my instructions are simply a result that I expect from a specific department but then how the result is obtained doesn’t matter to me,” he explains. 

There’s no need to be a genius to know how a decision can benefit you. 

“You’re quite close to Taehyung because he’s one of the best in his area. If he tells you that I did well, you can seize that opportunity to convince him to promote me as manager or whatever you think of. That can be an unfair treatment because you like me.” 

You wanted to say ‘because you love me’ but that seems a bit too much since you’re not exactly sure of his feelings for you. However, that’s what Jungkook wanted to hear because he still loves you. But it’s better you didn’t say it. 

“You can say whatever you want Jk but I won’t change my mind,” you say. “My decision is made.” 

Well, Jungkook is perfectly aware of it. That’s something that didn’t change about you. Once you’re convinced about something, wrong or right, nobody can change your mind. You’re way too stubborn.

“Well, then I appreciate you informing me before going to Taehyung,” he simply replies. 

There’s for sure some disappointment in his face but deep down, he knows you’re right. In the long run, the situation will be problematic one way or another. But he would have preferred that you gain some more experience in his company before leaving. It would only be beneficial for you. 

“I better be going, Jimin will probably get worried,” you say. 

Jungkook nods. Both of you proceed to get back to work without saying anything else. The rest of the day, you don’t speak or text. There’s like a thin wall of ice that appeared between you, and it’s scaring you both. But since you want to try to get back together, you’ll both pretend that it isn’t there. Almost as if you’re voluntarily closing your eyes because you don’t want to lose each other. 

Since you didn’t like the way yesterday went by, you decide to show up at his place. Before appearing unexpectedly, you made sure that Arya wasn't there. Jungkook has been making sure that you don’t randomly end up meeting Arya. You couldn’t agree more with this decision. 

“Yn?” he says with surprise when he opens the door. 

The man standing in front of you is still wearing his suit. Immediately, you understand that he’s still working. Probably something has happened at work which needs to be solved. 

“Sorry to come up out of the blue, I didn’t mean to bother you,” you start saying. “I just want to have a conversation with you, especially after what happened yesterday.” 

Jungkook nods before letting you inside. As soon as you step inside, he presses his lips against yours. This is very surprising but honestly, it feels absolutely wonderful. Feeling his lips against yours is extremely intoxicating. You’re completely addicted to him. 

“Are you okay?” you whisper against his lips. 

“I just need you, yn,” he mumbles. 

Things have been hard at work for Jungkook. Unfortunately, it has been affecting him in general. Whenever he’s alone, away from you, he wonders if indeed it’s a good idea to try again. He hates himself for thinking that way because he has always wanted to be with you. He never moved on from you. But now that he has you once more, he simply doesn’t know. He’s completely lost. 

Before you can understand, you’re in his bedroom exchanging fervent kisses. You’re both intoxicated by each other, lost in your little bubble. In a matter of seconds, you’re both naked, his head in between your legs, eating you out like a starving man. Your moans quickly echo in his bedroom, his name leaving your lips while Jungkook procures you a lot of pleasure. You have orgasms upon orgasms and it doesn’t stop him at all. It’s pleasantly overwhelming. 

Throughout the time he eats you out, he strokes his cock. Hearing you moaning and feeling your fluids on his face and tongue excite him more than he can explain. It doesn’t take him a long time before he’s hard as a rock. His mind is fully consumed by lust. All he can think of is to fuck you. 

Once he senses that he has tortured you enough, he stands up, placing himself on top of you. There’s no need to talk to understand that he’s going to penetrate you in the next few seconds. On the moment, none of you think of using protection. You’re just completely lost in your burning desire. With no surprise, he penetrates you. It causes an instantly deep moan to leave your throat. Jungkook adores seeing you underneath him in this state. You’re intoxicated by each other. 

Sloppy kisses are exchanged while he fills you up with his little monster. He takes you in every position possible, pushing both your limits. You stop counting the orgasms you have, it’s just too much but in a delicious way. You take all that he gives you until your body gives up. Your body actually starts trembling quite fast after he fills you up. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Jungkook completely explodes inside you. It’s at that precise moment that you realize that you didn’t use any protection. But you’re too lost to say or do anything about it. Your lover stands up, grabbing a tissue to clean his cock. On your end, you stand up to use his bathroom. It’s always recommended to pee right after sex. You never miss doing it even if all your fluids left your body while having intercourse. 

When you come back into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed. He looks absolutely devastated. You haven’t seen him that way in years. You run to his side, taking him in your arms. The second he feels your arms wrapped against him, he bursts into tears. You instantly close your eyes since it absolutely crushes you to hear him cry. 

Whilst he cries in your arms, you don’t say anything. You’re simply there for him, trying to comfort him with your simple presence. Seeing such a strong man in this state indicates that he has really reached a low point. This time you’re going to be there for him and help him. This time you’re not going to give up on him. He doesn’t deserve it. He never deserved it the way you treated him in the past. 

“I’m here,” you finally mumble while pressing a kiss on top of his head. 

His hands on top of your arms hold you tighter, almost as if he’s scared you let go of him. But you’re not going anywhere until he hasn’t calmed down. You’re probably even going to spend the night here with him. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone when he’s like this. 

“I’m so lost, yn,” he whispers. “I’m way too lost.” 

It breaks your heart to listen to him saying that. 

“There’s too much going on at Jeon Industries,” he says. “Having you quit the company is also hard because I feel like I’ve failed everywhere with it. I don’t know what to do anymore, I just want to throw it all away and just stay with Arya.” 

You kneel down to see his face. It breaks your heart even more when you see his face ravaged by tears. His weeping eyes find yours. 

“You haven’t failed anything, Jungkook,” you say in an attempt to comfort him, “you actually exceed everywhere.” 

Your thumbs clean the tears running down his cheeks. You don’t wish to see him like this, it’s way too heartbreaking. 

“Remember when you were talking about building your own company?” you ask and he nods straight away. “It was simply a dream back then but you made it happen. All by yourself. It’s even one of the biggest companies in the country. You can be proud of yourself for all that.” 

Even if you weren’t together, you felt so much pride seeing him building his empire. He accomplished more than he ever described to you. Times might sometimes be hard but that’s part of life. It would be boring if we didn't face a little challenge. In the end, it is what makes the taste of victory feel even better. 

“This is a challenging time for Jeon Industries but it’s temporary, you’ll totally overcome it because you’re Jeon Jungkook. The smartest person I’ve ever met.” 

Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. This warms his heart more than he can even express. Being around feels absolutely good. 

“And I’m simply leaving the company so I can be by your side, I’m not going anywhere,” you finish. 

He closes his eyes. His life is falling apart in front of his eyes, everything is out of control. Of his control. The only thing secure is his daughter. All the rest is simply overwhelming. Too overwhelming. He needs a break from the world. Even one from you. 

A week has passed since the crying incident at his place. You’ve been quite concerned with him but he hasn’t been talking much with you. However, for the past few days, you have given him the space that he needs. He’s not going well so you’re not going to force him to open up with you. 

Today, he has invited you to join him in a little park. Seeing that message brought a bright smile to your face because you’ve been excited to be with him. You imagined that he probably prepared a little cute date to just get his mind off work. But strangely, when you reach the park, you find him sitting on a bench, his face looking down at the grass. 

When he hears you getting close, he stands up. He doesn’t smile at all. Actually, you can’t read his face at all. It catches you off guard. This isn’t something you expected to see at all and it doesn’t sound good at all. Instantaneously, your heart starts pounding extremely fast at the same time that your hands start shaking. You’re scared of whatever he might say today. 

“Thanks for coming, yn,” he starts saying. “I truly appreciate it.” 

Jungkook doesn’t move closer, putting a clear distance between you. This man standing in front of you isn’t the man you have been hanging out with lately. This man is barely recognizable. 

“There’s no problem,” you reply.

“As I have told you, I’ve been feeling extremely lost lately,” you nod. “Everything is way too overwhelming for me and I simply don’t know what to do. But I know that having you back in my life is one of the reasons I’m feeling this way,” he explains. “I’ve always wanted you back but I never considered the consequences it would have on me. To be honest, I don’t know how to handle having you in my life again. Everything is different. I’m not the Jungkook you used to know. I used the pain you caused to build this new life. Everything I have today is because of all the suffering you put me through so how can I have you in my life with all this?” 

Tears start running down his face. This is too hard. It’s hard to realize that the person he has ever wanted in his life is the same one who is causing all this pain. The way he’s feeling right now is mainly because of you. Without you, this issue at Jeon Industries would have been solved quickly and wouldn’t have made him cry like a baby. 

“When we’re not together, when I’m not in our bubble, my mind starts wondering a lot. I question all that I have right now and wonder how my life would have been if you had never left me. The only certainty that I have is that nothing would be like this,” he pauses for a couple of seconds. “I keep overthinking everything and it’s driving me completely crazy. I’m currently not happy and this is not possible when I have a daughter to take care of. I have to take care of myself to provide her with the most wonderful life.” 

To hear all those words shatters your heart into a million pieces. 

“I would like to say that I want to date you again, I truly want to. What we have been having, I’ve been dreaming of it for ten years but it’s too much for me right now,” he continues. “We need to put an end to this right now before I simply explode and destroy everything. I don’t want to hurt you or anybody around me, especially my daughter.” 

What you feared most is happening. Jungkook is pushing you away because he’s hurting just like you did ten years ago. However, you’re the person responsible for his suffering. He’s pushing you away because you’re still causing him a lot of pain. 

“I need space and time to heal,” he finalizes. 

For a moment, you simply stare at each other. Jungkook is waiting for an answer from you but you’re not capable of saying anything. This is way too surprising for you but you need time to process every word that he just said. But this breaks you. More than words can say. 

“I’m going, yn,” he says when he notices that you’re not reacting. “Take care,” he says before leaving you. Now, you’re brokenhearted alone in the middle of a park. It seems that in the end, it wasn’t the right time for you and Jungkook.

[daretoassume]

the feeling of knowing it is done

it is often said, as neville pointed out, "it is done," and this is absolutely true. now, how can you live your daily life knowing that it is done? what would it feel like to go through each day, fully aware that your desires have already come to fruition?

usually, you would try to think of ways how it will happen, or when, or if you are closer to it—will it happen this year, this month, or not? and you have this narrative or belief that says, "oh, it's possible to happen this way, so I'm expecting this to happen this way more than that way because it feels more believable and not impossible." but that is not your job to know. yet that's the thing—we usually think about it all the time, especially when we are not guarding our thoughts. so, you'd rather do all these different techniques people do online because it won't hurt to follow them, right?

but what you're actually telling yourself is that you don't trust yourself—that you already have what it takes, that you already have your desires. your refusal to believe is the only thing that is keeping things at bay.

"so, do not ask how it’s going to be done. all i have to do is to completely yield to this being within me, for he has ways and means that i, on this level of my being, know not of. i rise then under compulsion. and under this compulsion, i go through a series of events, which will lead up to the fulfillment of that to which i yielded. i assume that it’s done." ♱ faith is loyalty to unseen reality, neville goddard

you put your desires on a pedestal, your focus is on wanting those desires, but WANTING something doesn't get you to the state of HAVING. the state of NOT having is thinking that your desires are going to make you feel better, or that they will make you feel like a new person, but you have to understand that the physical reality is mirroring you—your state, your thoughts, your feelings. nothing will change if you are expecting the physical reality to change first in order to change you.

that's not how it works.

your state should change first. there is literally no one to change but self. so, accept the fact that it is done. give yourself the capability to realize that it is already done. your beliefs, your perceptions, and your state should be aligned with your desires. what would it be like to have those desires? what would it be like to be the person you want to be? what does the best version of you, who has everything, think, feel, act, and believe?

when you are in a state of hurry, desperate to see your desires in your physical reality, it simply means you are not aligned with the vibration of the version of you who already has everything she desires. you are making it harder for yourself to realize that it is already done.

"to attempt to change the world before we change our concept of ourselves is to struggle against the nature of things. there can be no outer change until there is first an inner change." ♱ out of this world, neville goddard

rebrand yourself in a way that makes you feel that you have everything. because you do. your potential is buried deep inside of you, wanting to do everything that you are capable of. allow yourself to evolve, to change, to be the most authentic version of yourself. allow yourself to live knowing that it doesn't have to be difficult. allow yourself to live in the now—be so occupied in the now that you forget that you even have those desires or need those desires in the first place. because the feeling of wanting those desires resists the fact that it is already solidified. allow yourself to be the path of least resistance.

and when you are already in that state, you always have to choose to be in that state by decision. be aware of it so your mind is not all over the place.

if it is done, would you think about it all the time, or would you just appreciate that it already exists, that it is already done, and continue about your day, doing whatever you are doing, completely occupied, completely in the now?

[nadvs]

thinking of how you probably got pregnant after rafes first championship and sooo many people are like “she saw how much he made and now she’s trapping him”

THE PAIN 😭

based on this fic

the tabloids and social media are vicious about it. while his athleticism is mainly what garners him a lot of popularity and fame, he’s also well-known simply for being so good-looking and having a “bad boy” persona to the point where girls on the internet are making jokes like “i suddenly care about basketball” so a lot of people do not like her simply because she’s with him.

rafe already has photos of her on his socials when he signs with the nba so people know he has a girlfriend. she’s tagged in them, so she starts to gets random hate comments on her socials and she makes all of the private.

when she gets pregnant, he doesn’t post it anywhere to keep things private and to avoid stress. but then one day, he’s at practice and he gets a call from her. he’s freaked out right away because she knows his training is important and she never disrupts him during it.

she tells him she was being followed by paparazzi and they’re asking if she’s pregnant and if it it’s his and if it was on purpose. he’s livid because at this point, she’s far enough along to be showing and he’s so angry at the thought of anyone stressing her out or bothering her, especially in her state. the next day, he hires personal security guards for her.

the photos come out of her with her obvious baby bump and the comments are ruthless about how she must have planned it right after he won the finals and is a gold digger. he never gives a shit what the public thinks about him or their relationship, but he gets fed up and one day, he decides he wants to post an old photo of them from their college days.

rafe is not a man of many words, at least not publicly because he doesn’t feel like he owes anyone any information, but he’s fuming.

he tries not to be impulsive about it, so he shows her what he wants to post and she blames the pregnancy hormones for tearing up when she reads it (but she knows she’d cry anyway).

the caption he wrote is: Can’t believe I have to post this, but I guess that’s where we’re at now. This is a photo of me and my girlfriend from over four years ago, before I got drafted, when I was playing college ball with no idea where my career would go. I’m a lucky man because I’m still with her and we’re expecting. She should be relaxing right now, but there are idiots hounding her and calling her things that aren’t worth repeating. You have to be lower than low to be stressing out a pregnant woman and assuming you know anything about her. She has been with me since the beginning and is the most loyal and most real person I’ve ever known. Say whatever you want about me but leave my family out of it.

she lowers his phone, a small smile on her face as she sniffles.

“maybe you should check with your publicist,” she says, touched but afraid of how it might affect his career.

“i don’t give a shit about that,” rafe tells her. “do you like it?”

she gives him her blessing to post it. she never thought that with his fame would come him having to defend her, but she loves him even more for how protective he is.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9

[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]

Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao

wc: 8.6k

Chapter Nine

The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.

The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.

It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.

Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.

The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.

 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 

The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.

The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.

Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.

As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.

But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.

On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.

No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.

Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.

It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.

But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.

As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.

You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.

You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.

Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.

As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.

“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?

You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”

Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”

You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?

“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.

“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”

Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?

All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.

“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.

Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”

If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?

Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”

Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.

So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”

You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.

“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”

Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”

The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.

“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”

With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”

You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.

“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.

“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.

You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.

“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.

You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.

What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.

But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.

After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.

As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.

You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.

It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.

Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.

But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.

For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.

Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.

This shit better work.

You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.

Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.

You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.

Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.

“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.

You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.

Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.

The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?

The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.

“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”

You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.

“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.

“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.

You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.

“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”

That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.

With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.

Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.

“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.

“Carrie, huh?”

You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”

The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”

You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.

“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”

You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”

You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?

“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”

A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.

Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.

As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”

Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”

So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.

With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?

You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.

“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.

“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.

“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”

It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.

You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”

Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.

“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.

“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.

So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.

But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”

Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”

Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”

Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.

You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”

“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.

“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”

“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”

To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.

So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.

When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.

As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.

Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.

As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?

Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”

A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”

As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”

You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.

The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.

With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?

You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”

Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.

“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”

You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.

Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.

You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 

“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?

Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.

“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.

“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.

“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”

Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”

You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.

.

.

additional a/n: I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!

taglist: @3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson

@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220

@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @mmmunson @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive

@rcailleachcola @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver  requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

-

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

-

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

-

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[dalliancekay]

"I think Aziraphale needs to learn a lot more than that..."

Why do people keep (telling me again and again about this quote) assuming that Neil means Aziraphale needs some moral lessons, get off his high horse, learn some hard truths about Heaven, escape their grasp, finally understand that they are bad etc etc etc.

When the ask is about how Crowley is always forgiven from Aziraphale's point of view and how what (I see) Neil means is that Azi should also be told he's good enough. That he can be loved.

That what he needs to learn is how to believe in himself. To trust his mind, his feelings, to believe he is enough, he always was, that he doesn't have to be perfect or 100% right, that it is not possible and that it's okay. That he's okay. That he was lied to.

I wish we would frame Aziraphale's journey/learning as something else, not morality/awakening of some sort. Not as something he has to overcome. When Crowley changes his mind on something, no one says, oh have a gold star, you went against what Hell wants from you. Well done! Why do we do that to Aziraphale. Crowley is seen in Hell, giving presentations on some half hearted ideas that no one there really gets and getting accolades for things he didn't do at all and everyone is like, oh yay, look at him, so clever. Hahahah. Aziraphale also has to follow rules and do his tasks whether he agrees with them or not or he will be punished. He's not doing it for fun. He breaks rules when he feels he simply must and then everyone is like oh look, he is finally abandoning the rigid thinking that Heaven showed/taught him. But really, the naïve slow angel, he should try even harder.

Why such double standards?

Aziraphale is good and wants to do good. He is not sure of himself, true, but that's hardly his fault. Crowley is also good and tries to do good or at least limit the bad things he needs to do to survive.

They are two sides of the same coin. They both learn and grow. Sometimes the treatment the Ineffables get reminds me of how differently boys and girls are treated when they are learning behaviour. Boys praised for anything and everything even remotely good they do (cos they are expected to be naughty) and girls get the oh you should have already known better treatment. Aziraphale saved Job's kids cos he thought it was a horrible thing to want to do and expected to be punished for it. That's not - he didn't, it didn't change who he is. He did it expecting Falling. That's extremely brave. Yes Crowley has Fallen and people tend to see this as some extra superior move on his behalf, like he had everything figured out, understood how bad Heaven was and tried to bravely fix it. And Aziraphale needs to catch up with him. (If not by Falling himself than by doing some extraordinary learning journey to catch up with Crowley's knowledge). No. That's all HC. We don't even know why Crowley Fell. We don't. We know what he says happened (and we also know that he's not a reliable narrator...) and that's all we know. And even the things he says are not exactly showing him as some truth waving hero only wanting to make Heaven better for everyone and failing. Aziraphale is not breaking rules cos suddenly he used his brain and saw how Heaven is bad. He already knows that. He's risking punishment to help others. Again and again. And that's very kind and admirable and everything but it's not his evolving morality. He's already moral. He's already good. He always was.

He's also fucking cute. Let's not forget.

[essentiallyleaf]

day 09. belly bulge kink. with. wonyoung.

1438 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, dom reader, sub/bratty Wonyoung, belly bulge kink, or whatever the kink name is for seeing your own dick through her abs, deepthroating, squirting, pet names, relationships are hard, you won’t take my beloved parentheses off of me and there is no argument to be made about that, the punctuation is… interesting, i actually wanted to use the word thrussy, should i have?, you can actually pinpoint the second when writer gets tired.

notes.

would’ve dedicated this to @kaedespicelatte, but the kid hasn’t been behaving. cheatingly, leaf.

“You sure you won’t be cold?”

“Mm-hmm~”

She’s just such a tease. Because when she leaves the house with an outfit that exposes her belly button for the third straight day, it’s not a coincidence anymore. It’s an act of defiance. And it’s not like you need to tell her what you like about her, what you’d like to do to her. She knows. She sees you ogling at her when she goes out, and more importantly, she sees you looking sideways at her when she comes back home from fansigns with a flower bouquet in hand. She knows.

It’s just a fan. They see her once and fall in love, then forget about her in two months’ time and pick the next plastic girl to play pretend with. Kind of a cruel routine. You just can’t see her as that, ever. To you, she’s the girl that asks you to brush her hair and help her wear her sky blue princess dress and crown on her birthday. That’s not for show. That’s Wonyoung doing what she loves.

It wasn’t exactly clear-cut, between the two of you. The, lines of your relationship, that is, they weren’t exactly drawn. She was a friend, a close one, who one day in front of a cup of, some latte you don’t remember, went “Wouldn’t it be nice if we moved in together?" and then you did. She worked, you worked (at a high-end clothing shop, where you get to see the worst of spoiled people that have never seen struggle, but at least the work schedule was regular and the pay was decent), sometimes she came home tired and needed cuddles, almost every morning you made breakfast for her (she likes your blueberry waffles the best), once she joked “Isn’t this basically what couples do?” and with the unserious teasing tone you love about her, she started calling you baby. Then with the cuddles came little pecks, more daring hands; she was suddenly and inexplicably more scared of thunderstorms, and when she woke up next to you, she asked you to spoon her for a little while before going to work. One day of summer you slept in boxers and a tank top and she in her short pajama, one of you started rocking their hips while spooning, and the other followed. You both came on each other’s hands before 7.30. You’d have a lot to think about that day at work, but at least you’d be on time.

It turned out fine between the two of you. She was okay with it, you were okay with it; the thing is, both of you were kind of tap-dancing around the conversation.

Now her bed is always made, she takes her showers with you (and well, you know), and the pet names roll off the tongue much better. But your relationship is not exactly a straight railroad leading to town, more like some kind of meadow, an open space where to, go around and explore. No questions, just… no questions.

“Don’t come back too late tonight”

“Okay babyseeyoulaterbyeee!”

That’s the other thing about her. Wonyoung is your cuddle bear, but that teasing tone seems to always be there. It’s like she knows you need her in your arms (or around your dick, that also works), but she wants you to earn it. It’s a challenge, that much you’re certain about, so you take on it. A fair response to an unjustified provocation. You’re simply taking what’s already yours.

She comes back as the sun is still up, that night; baby knows how to behave. She says she’s not hungry yet - you thought she’d been hungry for three days straight. Well if she’s not, you’ll make her.

You start making out with her while she’s still in the hallway like almost every night by now.

“You want to just lay on the bed, then?”

“Only if you join~”

“Wanna take some of those clothes off? I turned the heater up”

You say some, you really mean all. Wonyoung knows, and won’t make you ask twice. Actually, that’s when the other side of her kicks in.

“I thought you were worried I’d be cold~”

She still doesn't make you ask twice.

You get down to your underwear with her, but you don’t lie down with her, you just tell her to lay face up and feet away from you, then guide her towards you so her head is dangling off the edge. She knows where this is going. She looks up at you with an upside-down smirk. Her fucking lips. You need them around you.

So, drop your boxers and place your half-limp cock on them, rubbing yourself on her face. She pulls her tongue out and uses it like it’s second nature, licking and spreading saliva all around your head, your shaft, and your balls as you hover them over her opening. As soon as you’re fully hard and lubricated, you put your tip (together with a good fourth of your length, to be fair) into her mouth. She can take you, she’s done this before, just never in this position. So you offer her all the time she needs.

As you slowly push further and further into her throat, you see it swell slightly and wrap a hand around the back of her head while throwing your own back in pleasure. No. You need to see. You’re almost fully in, and her neck is molding around your girth like never before.

“You’re doing a great job, baby. Just a little bit more”

She really is. She keeps breathing at a steady pace through her nose, unusually relaxed despite the situation. When you bottom out, she only notices because you stop moving. You stay in position for a few seconds, then almost as slowly (she always seems so fragile, like you’re on the verge of breaking her; so you always make sure to handle her with care) you pull out of her. You caress her cheeks dotingly.

“Are you okay, princess?”

That’s the pet name you used to call her on her birthday and on her birthday only. Now, it’s for any special day, and today, Wonyoung is behaving herself.

She nods really fast while smiling upside-down, she has a lot of saliva built up in her mouth and some on the corners of it.

“Can I go in again?”

“Mm-hmm~”

This time it’s all much faster. You push yourself into her in one go and immediately start pumping. Her throat inflates and deflates at each passage as you close your eyes, lost in pleasure. One of her hands reaches down to her gray panties (a little wet spot is already there) and starts rubbing, the other feeling her own abs. Your quick thrusts are now drawing high-pitched moans out of her.

You open your eyes again, and stop thrusting.

“Who said you could touch yourself, baby?”

Not a princess this time. She can’t answer, she still has your wood in her throat. But even if she could, she’d still be left speechless.

So you simply remove your shaft from her mouth, spin her body around 180 degrees and pull her hips towards you on the edge of the bed. You take her panties off, and see her glistening, gorgeous slit. You don’t give her that, though, not yet. Palm her abs, from top to bottom and back up. Live by the tum, die by the tum. She’s just whimpering, waiting, begging for you to touch her pussy. You won’t touch her, you’ll ravage her.

Guide your now monstrous looking dick with your hand to her tiny lips and split them apart. Your girth plunges into her extreme tightness as both of you watch, between surprise and arousal, her belly bulge in the shape of your cock. That simply encourages you to thrust quicker and more powerfully, making your girl whine loudly. Your right hand instinctively reaches for her still bra-clad cute titties and fondles them alternately. You wreck, shuffle, and re-shape her insides as your eyes stare at her tummy inflating and deflating hypnotized.

So hypnotized that it’s only her scream that, announcing her orgasm, takes you out of your trance. Wonyoung repeatedly contracts around you, squirting transparent liquid that pressures your dick out of her. It only takes two more strokes for you to hit your own peak and release seemingly endless spurts of white nectar onto her beautiful abdomen. A whole minute is filled only with pants for air.

“Baby, I’m cold”

“I told you you would be. Come here,” you invite her to be your little spoon. “Princess”

-

footnotes.

a bit of a return to form, i'd like to think. but no, probably just about average. classicly, leaf.