#a lot of the times when it comes to school it becomes my job to check on my younger sister

[mononijikayu]

blue — fushiguro megumi.

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.

NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)

addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333

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if you want to, tip! <3

THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.

Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.

It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it? 

He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.

He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again. 

Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.

He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.

Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while. 

But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time. 

And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.

You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.

Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay. 

That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.

You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.

Well, it’s obvious.

Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?

If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?

After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.

He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.

The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:

“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”

Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.

He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.

"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."

Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position. 

Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you. 

And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.

His phone buzzed again almost immediately.

“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”

Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.

It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf  by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.

And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..

His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.

Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:

“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”

He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:

"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."

Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never. 

Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.

“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”

"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."

His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”

Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster. 

He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.

But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.

There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.

"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.

“I look forward to it! 🫶”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Love you, Megu~”

".....love you too."

══════════════════

IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.

His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.

You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all  bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.

But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight. 

The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home. 

“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.

He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.

“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.

“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”

“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”

“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”

Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”

Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer. 

“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air. 

You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”

Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”

The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment. 

“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”

“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”

“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.

“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~” 

You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.

“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”

For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.

To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you. 

Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.

And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.

“Hm, let’s go.”

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence.

It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.

It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.

It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.

Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.

It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.

That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.

Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.

When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.

You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.

The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.

You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”

He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”

You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.

His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.

“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.

“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.

 “Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment. 

“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”

He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”

“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”

He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.

Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.

It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.

“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.

You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”

“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm. 

His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.

“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.

Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”

“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”

He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”

“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.

“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”

The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.

He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading. 

“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck. 

The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.

The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”

“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.

Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”

He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.

“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. 

And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.

It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle. 

You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.

You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that. 

Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.

Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.

Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too. 

══════════════════

epilogue

Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.

It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes. 

“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”

Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.

“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why—what—why would you even—?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.

“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”

Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”

You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”

Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….

Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father. 

“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”

You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”

“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.

“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”

You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”

He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”

You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”

“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”

You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”

“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”

“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”

As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. 

He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside. 

[jigamaree-writes]

mouthwashing characters dating headcanons!!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, multiple referenced characters deaths (including suicide)

tags: fluff and angst, confessions, romance, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, canon divergence, long distance relationship, major character death

includes: Daisuke, Anya, Curly

author's note: this is my first time officially writing on tumblr so apologies for any mistakes, can be read as "x reader", accidentally posted this as a wip and it had one like already so sorry to that user i took it down for some time

Daisuke

i believe he would first meet his yet to be partner either at a party on in an arcade

either way he would be absolutely smitten by their looks alone and would start chatting with them and successfully get their number

he started seeing them more, usually going shopping together, playing games, or just hanging out

as time went on he realized that the feeling in his stomach the very first day he saw them wasn't the alcohol from the party nor the nerves from seeing someone so cool – it was much more than that

he had no idea how to approach his little crush with the intention of telling them his feelings since he was already a pretty good friend of theirs and didn't want to loose that friendship or make it awkward if they weren't interested in him

but somehow during one of the hangouts his tongue slipped and he accidentally outed his feelings towards them!

all his worries washed away when they reassured him that they've been feeling the same way since they started spending more time together

he immediately perked up at that and kissed them on the cheek

when he officially gets in a relationship with them he's over the moon and he acts even more positive than usual

Daisuke's love language would be quality time mixed with physical touch

he just loves hugging, kissing or cuddling with his partner, even handholding brings him immerse joy

he's very fond of using pet names for his partner and overuses them a lot

his favourites include: "sweetie", "baby", "beautiful/handsome" or "my everything" as well as some more snarky and playful ones, often based on his partner's appearance or hobbies

god forbid someone asks him about his significant other because he will rant about all the little things he loves about them in perfect detail

he couldn't stop showing off his partner to everyone he knew, he's just so glad to have someone by his side

speaking of – he's extremely clingy, even if his partner hadn't talked to him for two hours, he already misses them

so when his parents basically force him to leave and work for Pony Express you can imagine this poor boy's heartbreak

not being able to see his one and only for such an extended period of time is like a death sentence to him

he offers that his love goes with him, but due to the fact that working on the Tulpar is not a very satisfying and fulfilling job plus the constant harsh environment (not even mentioning the pay) it's understandable they don't want to be stuck in the ocean of emptiness

and even if they did want to go with him, after giving it more thought Daisuke realized that he wound never want to put the most important person in his life at any danger that might be involved in the outer space

while he is extremely down about leaving his other half back at home, he stays hopeful the whole time, keeping a picture of his beloved in his pocket or on the side table next to his bed in the sleeping quarters

his partner (along with the desire to make his parents proud) becomes a sense of motivation for him

even in his last moments, after being injured from crawling though the air vent, all he can think about is how he was never going to make it back and see his love one final time

Anya

when it comes to first meetings i think Anya would either see her future partner one of the times she tried to apply for her medical school or while she was running to clear her mind two blocks away from her own apartment and bumped into them at a corner

if we're going with the second scenario she would apologize tremendously for her carelessness and to her surprise was met with a very positive answer and an invitation to a dinner the next day

few more dates later and she starts developing some serious feelings for the other person and that eventually leads to them becoming a couple

she used to spend most of her time studying so she might not be very experienced in a relationship and needs to warm up to her new role as a girlfriend but she's the most loving and understanding one ever

for a long time she was seriously struggling with getting into medical school, but her significant other encouraged her to go forward and so she never gave up on her dream

by working three times harder than the last time she was awaiting her medical exams with determination and optimism, but unfortunately she failed the tests to qualify for the school yet again...

she was miserable for some time after that, distancing herself from her partner for a few days

to make up for it she and her partner had a movie night, at first she was very apologetic about her behavior but some reassurance from her partner later and her mind was put at ease

i believe her love language would be words of affirmation although she doesn't mind physical touch

she loves to kiss her partner's forehead while holding their face in her hands for sure

Anya's favorite pet names for her partner would be "my dear" and "sweetheart" along with just their name or a sweet nickname she came up with

however if it's her partner using pet names on her? yeah she's absolutely flustered everytime that happens

her favorite aspects of her partner would be the patience they are willing to give her and the support she so desperately needs

when she decided she needed more money to cover for the exams her partner fully supported her with this decision, which eventually lead to her working for the Pony Express

she keeps little notes her partner gave her before she left on the board in her office

she never really shared with anybody that she had a partner back on earth as well as on the Tulpar unless someone directly asked her, she would describe her partner so tenderly that while the majority would find their relationship to be adorable, some people (Jimmy) would mock her for how much she's devoted to her partner

before her ultimate decision of taking the pills she thought about what could've been if she just stayed home and found a different job

she would have never experienced this horrible fate

she couldn't help but muster a smile thinking about her partner, what a pity they never experienced the joy of seeing her finally making her dreams come true

Curly

if he started his relationship while still on Earth he would definitely miss his partner dearly but couldn't help the growing excitement to see them after coming back home

everytime he saw his other half he was happy like it's the last time he's ever going to see them

if Curly came back in the winter season the two would definitely partake in any snow spots together since we know he's a fan of those

if his partner shared his love for the same activities he would be overjoyed, but if they weren't as much into it that's completely fine – he would try to show them all his favourite pastimes hoping his partner would eventually join him but he would never push them to do it

he would acquaint his partner with his family pretty early on in the relationship but not so early it's awkward, he just wants to show off his partner to the closest people in his life

since it's implied he's been working for the Pony Express for quite some time now, it's possible he met his love during one of the hauls, either as a new crew member or someone from a different team

if they were part of his crew the man's attitude towards his partner would stay the same – sure he might be the capitan and is in a position of power but they're still his beloved

sometimes he takes on work that would be usually assigned to his partner to let a little load off their shoulders but he would keep it a secret from them and the other crew members (although he gets accused of favoritism several times)

while he is extremely busy with all the shenanigans going on during the shipping of whatever is in the cargo hold, he always manages to find time for his partner

his love language is definitely act of service

his partner gives Curly a sense of belonging, and even sometimes when he doubts himself as a capitan he knows his partner is there for him

Curly's room is right next to his partner's in the sleeping quarters, although he wishes they wouldn't have to have separate rooms but for some reason the company doesn't acknowledge their relationship because why would they (he still invites his significant other to his room whether it's to cuddle, talk or just to enjoy each other's presence)

he and his partner are basically inseparable

that doesn't change even after the crash takes place, his partner would visit him every day and stay by his side, often taking Anya's task of feeding him painkillers and while it pains them to see him in such a state they know Curly is the one who's in the most pain at the moment

his partner isn't sure if Curly still recognizes them but he always looks around frantically when anyone from the crew escorts them to the sleeping quarters to try and get some rest

following many sleepless nights and witnessing the death of two of the fellow crew members, Curly's partner decided to ultimately end their life, not being able to witness the love of their life suffer any more

they never got to live the life they imagined together and they couldn't even confirm if Curly would notice their lack of presence after they died, however he acted more distressed and was seemingly shrieking when he eventually stopped seeing them

do not copy or translate my works.

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

[lexirosewrites]

This has been in my brain for a HOT MINUTE so it will b long

A!Eddie & Corroded Coffin didn't make it in the rock n roll world, the band certainly tried but they all found tht it wasn't the fulfilling kind of work they wanted or needed. So one by one they all ended up moving away from California some of them went back to the midwest.

B!Gareth left first, he'd found a passion for teaching after taking on a few tutoring jobs to pay the bills so after a lot of talking he went back to school in Indianapolis where he could b near family. A!Freak went as far as they could without needing a passport & moved to NYC where they built a fulfilling & even successful career in the Broadway circuit as a musician. Jeff & Eddie ended up leaving together, even staying together as roommates briefly in Portland bc going back to the midwest felt almost like giving up completely but when Jeff's dad passed away he went home to Indiana for the funeral & just didn't come back, Eddie wasn't resentful abt it he was even ecstatic for A!Jeff when he got a call a half a yr later where Jeff told him he'd moved to Chicago & found work w the USPS tht gave him time to volunteer in an after school program teaching guitar. Eddie stayed in Portland working in a mechanic shop till Gareth invited all of them to watch him walk the stage to accept his teaching degree.

It was a touching reunion for everyone & after a lot of drinks Eddie admitted he hated Portland & admired how Gareth & Jeff were shaping the minds of tomorrow & was proud of Freak for the career they'd built in NYC. In the end, Eddie ended up hopping around the couches of his bandmates in their different places in the country till he found work he enjoyed in Chicago as a line cook & he volunteered w Jeff till slowly but surely Eddie became a go to guy for the program to call & then a yr later the director of the program said she was recommending him to a teaching position at the fancy after school youth art institute her friend ran. Jeff had turned down the position when she'd asked bc the pay wasn't much better & he enjoyed his work w the USPS

Eddie gets a job at this youth art institute & he thrives. He still volunteers & through his efforts the art institute expands their scholarship program. He meets one of the ballet instructors, B!Chrissy, & they're fast friends even platonic soulmates some would say. When Eddie introduces Chrissy to Jeff at Eddie's birthday party in late June he was very unsubtle abt his matchmaking intentions & he was vindicated when they admit to him tht they're dating not even a month later.

When August arrives Chrissy starts talking abt preparing for auditions for The Chicago Ballets annual production of The Nutcracker, apparently the institute got to bring a number of students to audition for the roles reserved for children or teens along w other ballet schools of the city. The students of the ballet classes become even more serious in their lessons, many of them signing up for the one on one lessons offered specifically to prepare for the auditions. Eddie's favorite guitar student, O!Max, was best friends w 2 ballet students (B!El & A!Lucas) in a way tht was clearly developing into a romance btwn the 3 & so the one on one lessons he taught her became mostly her practicing chords while raving abt how hard the 2 were working, tht Lucas' dream was to one day b cast as the cavalier who dances w the sugar plum fairy & tht El hopes to one day b cast as the dew drop in the Waltz of the Flowers.

Two days before auditions the ballet students of the institute get visited by members of the Chicago Ballet Troupe. The youngest get to meet & interact w the dancers cast in roles that'll directly interact w them should they b cast. The teens get the most exciting visitors is the consensus Eddie picks up on, apparently it is somewhat tradition for the dancers cast as The Snow Queen, The Dew Drop, The Sugar Plum Cavalier & The Sugar Plum Fairy to visit w the teens. Chrissy gets a glint in her eye when she insists Eddie come along w them to dinner after classes because her friend from dance school is one of the cast members visiting the teens.

He walks into the restaurant, is led by Chrissy to the table practically overflowing w tall athletic bodies, & promptly plopped into the only remaining seat next to the most gorgeous male omega Eddie has ever laid his eyes on. Chrissy introduces him as Steve Buckley, the first male omega to b cast as The Sugar Plum Fairy in literally any major production of The Nutcracker put on by a major troupe. Eddie knows his eyes get gooey especially when he catches the briefest whiff of the sugar sweet scent tht resembles baked apples when Steve leans closer to hear him better over the noise of the restaurant.

A lot happens after auditions & during production, El is cast as one of the snowflakes & Lucas is cast as a party goer & toy soldier but he impressed the production team so well he was given the position of understudy to The Sigar Plum Cavalier. Steve & Eddie grow closer till they finally kiss after the final curtain of the annual production. Chrissy & Jeff move in together & after Chrissy gets pregnant Eddie is asked to b one of the witnesses when they go to the courthouse to register their bonding. Steve takes over for chrissy when she goes on maternity leave.

Four years later steddie have also bonded & Steve gives a final performance of The Nutcracker before retirement, he was honored to b cast as Sugar Plum one more time & to b there w Lucas as he debuted as not only an official dancer w the Chicago Ballet Troupe but as The Sugar Plum Cavalier. Steve would have stayed longer as a dancer but he wanted to b a mother & Ballet doesn't give much allowance for a dancer to b pregnant. So Steve takes the offer of a teaching job w the same youth art institute where chrissy & his mate work & steddie move to the same Chicago suburb as chrissy/Jeff when they officially begin trying for a baby

Joan Riot Munson is born at exactly noon the following year on the first day of the annual production of The Chicago Ballet's Nutcracker 🥰🩰

we love an omegaverse ballet AU!!!💕

(this is the last ask i have in my inbox for slick sunday, but if i see any come in while i’m out, i’ll try to answer and post!)

[hyperfixate-on-ninjas]

So I don’t know how I can say this- but there is technically a way that Kai ‘raised’ Nya.

Sure the villagers raised Kai and Nya and left them alone when they got old enough to take care of themselves (If the Ninja were 14 I’d be hella surprised, they’re like 15-16 at best in the pilots please-) e

But there is a way Kai helped ‘raise’ Nya. In some communities and sometimes in modern day society the Eldest child is sometimes considered the Second Parent. And this is well, really emphasized in Asian Communities.

The Eldest is seen as the future provider and caretaker of the family, they are expected to take care of the parents in the future, get a job, earn money and most importantly TAKE CARE of the younger siblings when the parents are not around.

As Kai is the Elder Brother, you would expect him to have the same mindset when it comes to his sister, their babysitters would often than not, probably have expectations for Kai to be the provider of the family. (Not just for sexist reasons but also because he is the eldest)

In the pilots, we see Kai already trying to blacksmith. And Nya…is just…looking around I guess.

Already we have an indication that Kai is the provider for both him and Nya, and it’s possibly because he was raised with those expectations. To care for and provide for Nya when the parents or babysitter weren’t around.

He probably was the one who learned how to cook first when the babysitter was running late, he probably was the one who washed their clothes, did most of the chores. I mean this could also lead to Nya’s later characterization of wanting to do everything the ninja does alongside them because she’s seen the way Kai was raised.

We may not know much about their childhood but to me, it seems likely that Kai was raised with expectations to be a caretaker and provider for the family and in some point in life slowly enveloped into the role, (Something most older siblings do as they get older, usually around 14 the parents start treating them like adults and eventually they become the parents whenever the actual parents were busy)

There is a way that Kai ‘raised’ Nya while also having actual caretakers, but the answer might still be kinda depressing if you think about it.

[fatehbaz]

.

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[libraryofgage]

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

[i-yap]

Can I get your thoughts on a gn reader who’s dating Grayson and is like a parent figure or older sibling to Damien, so they have a soft spot for him ( so does Damien ) ?

Dick grayson x gn!y/n x platonic!Damian

this is my first time writing a gn reader so like I'm sorry if I write something stupid or offensive, just comment it and ill fix it.

if you are dating dick then damian will stalk you extensively at first. Dick is his favorite sibling ( in most comics) and if dick is serious about you, stalking is just how the batfam shows love.

He will be rude , he will be mean and sarcastic but dick warned you and you understand where dami's coming from. So you kindly and patiently deal with him and dick obviously doesn't let Dami cross the line when it comes to you.

One night dick had to rush out for a really scary mission and told you to stay at the manor because its the safest place to be.

Damian was the only other person that was left behind since the mission required everyone else on the team and bruce did not think damian was ready for such a high risk mission just yet.

so damian was really frustrated and also worried for the rest of the family. you walk past Dami's room to see him staring off in the distance while fidgeting or biting his nails. You ask alfred for a chess set ( or any other board/card game) and bring it to dami's room. While playing , he opens up about his frustrations and you patiently listen . Not a lot of people in his family are as warm and caring as you are ( maybe dick but even he is really busy)

After that night the roles are reversed. Now damian thinks dick is undeserving of you and his snarky comments are directed to him. You just find it funny while dick is left confused. "I thought he liked me more man, why the sudden switch?" " he got enlightened dickie boy muhahah" " you are mind controlling him arent you"

One-on-one time in the manor- haha dick wishes. So he tries only calling you when dami is at school or training or patrol. ofc you and dami catch on soon which means you and dami chasing him with katanas.

talking about katanas, dami loves showing you his art and his pets and if you share an interest in either of them he gets even more excited.

you and dick become dami's honorary parents. might as well adopt him since bruce and talia are obviously not doing a very good job ( in most comics) .

whenever dami is mad at bruce or simply upset or bored he comes to you and dick's apartment. You and dick are the fun warm loving couple that spend the night playing board games and watching stupid movies . you introduce him to all the major pop culture shows and movies and dick teaches him how to just dance randomly. your apartment is so different from the gloomy , filled with blood stains, fights and training manor. its filled with music and love and warm lights cooking together in funny pjs and dancing badly to pop songs.

it is watching you and dick that dami realizes what love is supposed to look like. and what a normal household looks like( sort of normal) and it affects the way he grows up. I wont be surprised if he comes to you for parents teacher meeting days or to sign his field trips or for advice on normal things

and the canon where dami is being bullied in school, while you go full on protective mode ,dick tries teaching him how to be better in social situations.

overall dami is just counting down days dick marries you and you'all unofficially adopt him.

[simpxxstan]

Nobody Else (part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 

Objectively speaking, no. 

Subjectively speaking, not at all. 

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 

It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 

But never enough. 

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

_

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 

_

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 

_

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 

And you had liked it. 

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.” 

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 

“What are your terms?”

_

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 

_

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call. 

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 

_

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun. 

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

_

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 

“Will you never leave me alone?” 

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 

“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 

“For dinner.” 

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

_

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

_

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

_

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 

“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 

“Sir please!” 

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

_

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 

Fuck. 

What have you done?

“How late am I?” 

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

_

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.” 

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 

“Hmm, low sugar.” 

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 

You wonder why he’s so happy. 

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

_

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 

Your shirt is ripped again. 

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!” 

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 

“Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

_

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  

_

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 

You sigh, and nod your yes.

_

part 2 is now out!

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you. 

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough. 

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse. 

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that. 

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you. 

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him. 

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet. 

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now. 

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now. 

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in. 

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place. 

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous. 

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast. 

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing. 

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen. 

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues. 

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her. 

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps. 

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around. 

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal. 

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now. 

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye. 

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook. 

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing. 

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy. 

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does. 

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule. 

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it. 

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning. 

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond. 

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that. 

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from. 

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time. 

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person. 

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you. 

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance. 

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says. 

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic. 

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues. 

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him. 

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started. 

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now. 

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know. 

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster. 

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed. 

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable. 

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down. 

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar. 

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it. 

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this. 

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little. 

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern -  should not happen again. 

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed. 

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you. 

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you. 

“You may leave,” he instructs. 

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask. 

You’d never cared before, why the change now? 

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you. 

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this. 

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps. 

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask. 

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems. 

“I’m fine,” he shrugs. 

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now. 

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything. 

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is. 

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual. 

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in. 

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents. 

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement. 

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do. 

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in. 

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name. 

“Okay,” you say softly. 

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while. 

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated. 

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous. 

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little. 

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling. 

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place. 

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too. 

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug. 

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that. 

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be. 

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again. 

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece. 

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are. 

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak. 

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time. 

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips. 

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too. 

“Uh, yes,” you say. 

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down. 

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam. 

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture. 

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle. 

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself. 

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it. 

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off. 

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for. 

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung. 

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says. 

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again. 

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear. 

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke. 

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks. 

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around. 

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days. 

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs. 

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done. 

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly. 

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do. 

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself. 

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment. 

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day. 

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out. 

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night. 

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them. 

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked. 

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can. 

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you. 

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist. 

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.  

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle. 

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says. 

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter. 

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good. 

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him. 

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes. 

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he. 

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit. 

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time. 

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…” 

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about. 

“Like them.” 

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair. 

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients. 

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side. 

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now. 

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table. 

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why. 

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. 

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time. 

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there. 

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal. 

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at. 

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace. 

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after. 

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though. 

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk. 

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way. 

“Your girl?” He scoffs. 

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you. 

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you. 

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts. 

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top. 

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead. 

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing. 

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes. 

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably. 

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…” 

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins. 

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–” 

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body. 

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs. 

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom. 

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting. 

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be. 

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot. 

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds. 

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters. 

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave. 

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.  

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you. 

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you. 

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter. 

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away. 

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him. 

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri. 

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously. 

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience. 

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily. 

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do. 

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you. 

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car. 

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything. 

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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[ashwhowrites]

Dustin's babysitter

Eddie x Dustin's babysitter

A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!

Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.

Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.

"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.

Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.

"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.

"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.

"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.

"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.

Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.

Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.

A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.

Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.

"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.

"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.

"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.

~~~

"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.

"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.

"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.

"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.

"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.

"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.

"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.

"Nope!"

"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.

"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.

"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.

~~~

Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.

He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.

"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked

"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.

"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.

"Where's your babysitter?"

"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.

~~~

After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.

Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."

Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.

"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.

"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.

Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.

~

Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.

"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.

"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.

"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"

"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."

"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.

"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.

"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.

She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.

"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.

Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.

His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.

"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!

"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.

She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.

"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.

"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.

"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.

"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.

"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.

"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.

"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.

Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.

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[chloecouture]

Public speaking and keeping and audience interested

Hey there it’s Chloé here, for today’s topic I decided on public speaking and how to keep an audience interested.

Why am I discussing this topic? My presentations and public speaking skills always get praised and I get asked for tips by people all the time, so I feel qualified to give you guys some tips.

Let’s not waste anymore unnecessary time.

These tips will be perfect for presentations, especially if you are in school or your job requires presentations. (This is specifically about talking to an audience, a post about how to have conversations will come later)

1. Naturalness.

You need to be able to keep people interested and talk about a topic without having to look at a cheat sheet.

Try and remember as much as you can but talk about it in your own words. That’s how you make it interesting and natural.

However if “uhmms” are natural to you obviously try and avoid that.

2. Eye contact and using your hands.

This will be a hard for a lot of people but you need to look at the audience, look around while talking and use your hands to explain stuff, that way when you are slowing down or forgetting something you keep them distracted.

Eye contact is a must in a lot of situations, it shows that you are confident.

Keeping your hands visible also builds trust with the audience.

3. Pace.

Do not speak too fast or too slow keep a calm pace.

Make slight pauses when you ask a question so the audience will want to know what you are going to say. For example (staying on theme): “But how do you actually stay calm while giving a presentation?” short 1-2 second pause and make eye contact with the audience, then move on to the next sentence.

The audience will start to really question it and want to know the answer as well. This will become more natural the more you do it.

Practice it in the mirror if you want to.

4. Intonation, emotion and emphasis .

Going back to the sentence from the last tip: “But how do you actually stay calm while giving a presentation?”. If you say this in an even tone with no emotion, people will not care what you say.

Speak with better intonation, learn when to have a more serious tone or when to have a more happy tone.

Now onto emphasis: “But how do you actually stay calm while giving a presentation?”.

In this situation emphasizing ‘actually’ while speaking would be ideal. It shows that you know the answer to that question, that you thought about it.

5. Expression.

Facial expressions, the audience loves that.

When you’re speaking match your facial expression with what you’re talking about.

Don’t overdo it, it won’t look natural.

6. Posture and body language.

Have relaxed body language but keep a good and straight posture.

Good posture will show that you are confident and will make you feel more confident.

People will also take you more serious if you carry yourself in a serious way.

7. Interesting presentation.

If you are a creative person, make a creative presentation. This surely helps if you aren’t good at public speaking since it will be a distraction.

My latest presentation was for a fashion class I had, I made it in the form of an online magazine.

If you combine good public speaking with interesting presentations there is nothing to worry about.

Here we have our public speaking tips, the tips mentioned above are ones that I use and have helped me immensely. Every time i do a presentation on anything people always ask me how I do it, so I thought I’d share.

Thank you for reading.

Hope you have an awesome day if it’s still starting, if it already ended I hope you had a great day. Tomorrow is always a brand new day, making mistakes is fine.

Au revoir

-Xoxo Chloé C.

[prettyboykatsuki]

best friend yuuji? you’ve just rang the dinner bell

i was just thinking like.

im adding this after writing but this is soooo fucking long lmao im sorry.

tags for fem!reader (reader is referred to as a girl many times, no explicit mention of anatomy), best friends to lovers, 18+ etc

okay. i feel like you and yuuji meet in a stereotypical way

yuuji is your best friend. you met when you guys were sat next to each other in school (classic case of quiet kid and loud kid) but yuuji is uber friendly so he naturally made friends with you. you guys always clicked. in a weird way. no one else could ever fully grasp it

but you just get each other. you have similar mindsets and find each other comfortable. so you grow up and into each other - and become best friends after a long while. he comes over a lot to yap while you study and while it looks one-sided - you often take care of and look after yuuji and make sure he's not carrying too much at once.

anyway . you have a really good relationship. you're not glued at the hip but it's like, you stick together so much people often ask where the other is when one of you is missing. you get older to around middle school and puberty starts to really . hit you know.

a lot of girls confess to yuuji in that time. it's normal. sure he's rowdy and loud but he's the kind of good guy you notice when you really talk to him. fundamentally good, and not crude and shallow like other boys your age. popular but not obviously. it's the first time in your relationship you are self conscious about being his best friend and just happening to be a girl

there's rumors and stuff. you and him never talk about it until some stuff happen (like yuuji seeing it cause problems) and then you talk. the gist of it is basically that - you're yuujis best friend in the world and nothing could change that. it doesn't matter who you are. he's just trying to show you he cares

and you realize right then you are in love with him.

years go by. you get a little older. you go through highschool much like middle school - with no boyfriend. yuuji dates infrequently but usually gets broken up with. this pattern repeats into college.

(what you don't know, because yuuji never bothered to ask - is that the girls he used to date broke up with him simply because he wouldn't shut up about you. everything he should've done with a girlfriend he did with you already. he even keeps pictures)

when you get into college and grow into adulthood, you and yuuji are still extremely close. you chose to stay home and so did he - so not much is very different. except now you're meeting all sorts of new people and having new relationships form.

you don't know how exactly it comes up. you're studying for an upcoming midterm, yuuji is talking about how he got turned out by the cute girl that he works with and he pauses and asks.

"you know, i know you study hard but you should have fun too," he says this laying in your bed like he owns it, turning his head to look at you where you're bent over your desk. "haven't you thought about getting a boyfriend now that you're in college?"

you are good at brushing this off. you've been doing it for years. you do not tell yuuji that you don't date guys even after you get asked out because you're in love. you just shrug and tell him straight.

"i already told you. im not going to think about dating until i'm finished with school and i've held my career for two years."

"but aren't you bored?" yuuji asks, sincere. he doesn't press you but he is being nosy. "i don't play around that much either but i don't know. a little is healthy. and you've always working hard. playing around with handsome guys might be fun."

"not gonna change my mind."

"don't you get i dunno," he lays on his back. "sexually frustrated, though?"

you pause. you flinch. you've never talked about this before.

you clear your throat a little. "don't be inappropriate. and i do the job myself just fine."

"i guess girls don't have to worry about losing their virginity as much as guys but,"

you try to move on as swiftly as you can from talking about this in relation to yourself. "you make it sound like you slut around, yuu-chan."

he laughs a little behind you. "well no but you know. it's nice laying with another person. only if we're together though."

"yeah, sure. good for you. stop pestering me about it then and go get a girlfriend."

"so mean," he replies, laying back on his stomach. "but do you really not care at all about losing it?"

you frown, swallowing the words explaining that you do care but not just anyone will do. you give him a half truth. a lie of omission.

"it's not that i don't care but it has to be with someone i trust a lot. i don't know any guys like that, so,"

"ehh?? what about me?"

you freeze. you're sure you're mishearing it. "what about you?"

"well... you trust me right? so i could help you with it until you do find a boyfriend,"

you turn around. surely not. surely you misheard. surely he did not tell you to have sex with him so casually. you turn around to verify he's fucking with you.

only to find the most blatant sincerity you've ever seen. he's never been entirely stupid but well. he has his moments.

"do you even know what you're saying? you have to get it up for me to do that."

"well sure. but im reliable and trusrtworthy. and maybe it'll relax you a bit."

you think at that point you're definitely losing your shit but no. unfortunately your guy is dead serious. and you know, yuuji is an idiot but he's not enough of an idiot to not know it's unconventional - but in the moment, in the second he asks, his reasoning is for good. he gets a weird little feeling thinking about you losing it to someone you don't trust you know?

you obviously debate with him on this. you refute him, even - telling him that there's no way he thinks that's a good idea. and you go back and forth and you stop him at some point. to just be like

"do you even think you could kiss me?"

and yuuji just stands to his feet, leans over your desk, and kisses you.

and well. after that, it's kind of like you can't keep your hands off of each other.

it's clumsy your first time. you have no experience. but yuuji is your best friend, and he's himself - so he's patient and gentle and sooo very helpful. he teaches you to kiss and breathe through your nose and open your mouth and all sorts of other things. he's big so it's kind of hard to put it in but he takes is time. the sex feels really, really good and is intimate - almost naturally because that's your very best friend in the entire universe.

and so like. you guys have sex. you dont really plan it or anything but somehow when you get alone - it just gets so, so tense and neither of you can seem to cool down.

and how could you, you know? you've always wanted to fuck yuuji and maybe, seemingly, he wants it too. he gets so red when you bend down on your knees and try to blow him and it makes you so confident. you just... start fucking all the time. and you guys have been so close that no one cares if you two are alone together or not.

and so like. you begin this intensely sexual relationship and miraculously unchanged relationship. like you hang out as normal. and you fuck alot. and it's amibigous and vague.

you're kind of torn up about it, but yuuji is the kind of guy to not hook up with more than one person - so it's not hard to delude yourself into dating. he's already sweet and cuddly and thoughtful. and you know, you've always been so, so strict with yourself. you're really on top of your shit you know? so you reason with yourself, fine. ill just do this and see what happens. it's not like you.

(but it's hard to be strict with yourself when he makes you cum six times you know.)

so weirdly, in a weird way - you're kind of fine. you're a bit numb, a bit adjusted to it.

BUT YUUJI? OH YUUJI IS GOING THROUGH IT.

look. i mean what i said about yuuji being sincere and dense about this whole thing. he really does just want to help you and he doesn't think anything of it. sure sex is for someone you love, but yuuji does love you so it's fine to him.

the problem? the problem is you go from looking like a vague, amorphous and wonderful friend whose appearance he rarely thinks of (outside of beautiful, because of course you are - you're his best friend)

and instead become the most insanely fuckable person he has ever laid his eyes on and it is . ruining his life.

again. it's not as if yuuji ever thought you were unattractive. beauty is bigger than appearance to him, always has been - and you've always been the most beautiful girl in every room because you had a lovely character to you. he adores you. as a friend.

he never.... saw you in any other way. not even when other people kept assuming he did. you're a girl so he knew people would try to box you into that with him regardless but it was never like that. or at least, in his head it was never like that.

sure, whenever he dates someone - he is subconsciously compares them to you and sure, no matter what the person he has the most fun with is you but that's normal right? best friends is a big deal after all

you have sex for the first time and it's like. all of a sudden he's seeing all these aspects of you completely different. it's such a dramatic shift for him. like.

but it's not.... just your body really. of course not. he's not just lusting after ou but there's just something different about how you look in his eyes. something about how you readjust your sweater, how you wipe the corners of your mouth. something about the way you look at his place with shorts and a comfortable shirt just barely riding up your stomach and matching fuzzy socks (that are kinda matted from being worn)

all of this is just so, so fucking sexy now. he gets the weirdest fluttery feeling and just . can't help but be on you. you don't even know what you do to him either, and how could you? but god it destroys him. really ruins him to see you all doe eyed. know how you feel when you cling onto his biceps.

for the longest time - he can barely figure out whats doing it to him.

and then like. one day you're finished having sex and you're both so tired you fall asleep. and you're at his place - naked in his bed. he wakes up in the middle of the night. he moves the covers you know, to get up and get a towel - wipe you down.

and then you sort of hold onto him. still asleep. you let out a very soft whiny nooo, and he just. finds it so cute. so without thinking, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and tells you to keep sleeping which you comply with bc ur not awake anyway.

and then when he sits up again he's like. oh. shit shit shit. shit.

that's when it hits him that he's in love with you which is. troubling to say the least. not only because he feels guilty for ruining your friendship but also because he knows himself well enough to know there's no way he could hold himself back.

but he thinks about and... does he have too? he knows it won't be right away but you do this with him too. so maybe, just maybe, there's a chance right?

for what its worth, i do think you two end up together with a minimal amount of angst. but the amount of heavy ass pining...the months it goes on of you two getting insanely, unbearably intimate and then not talking about it. and like. yuuji tests the waters with you. kisses you before he leaves, and does all sorts of stuff but you always go with it. you both cover it up but eventually it all spills and i think that's mostly cause yuuji is so open ......

anyways.... best friend yuuji.... he is on my mind....

[nanivinsmoke]

Hello nani!! I just wanted to say I just read your all of me logan x reader and I love it! Was wondering If you could do logan x reader smut with the song ride by somo (been having it in my head for a while) but if you can't that's fine keep up the awesome work love!!

Ride .

✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader

♪my body on your body baby, stickin like some glue…♪

✩ you usually don’t sleep with your coworkers, but during this mission….the tension between you two becomes unbearable.

✩ tags: nasty, slutty sex, sex in a car, riding, oral sex, creampie, rough fucking, everything is slutty when it comes to him, jealous logan, you are a teacher at the Xavier school for the gifted, added some plot too, you can control any form of matter, liquid is your fave tho…

✩ note: hello! thanks for the req, anon this song choice 🙂‍↕️ I’ve got freaky followers! also had xmen/x2 wolverine in mind. song at the bottom of the page!

Charles left you in charge for today, something he does once every two months with his head teachers. He did it so you guys could gain experience and know how to take charge if something ever happened to him. It happens more frequently than you’d think.

Before you, it was Storm and she did an amazing job. Everyone loved her as the school’s professor, there were less accidents within the school and more mutants had come too. Unlike Scott, who was more brutal with his approach, leading to some students leaving the academy. Charles was upset and even though he didn’t show it, everyone knew it.

However, unlike those two, Logan was a little more reckless with his approach. There’s was fight breaking out almost everyday, but those same fights were mended that same day they happened. Plus, tons of students joined just because they heard THE Wolverine was there. He might’ve been a dick most of the time, however he had a heart.

And that’s why you decided to partner up with him for today’s mission. Well, that was partially true. In all honesty you had the biggest crush on him and you wanted to get the opportunity to be with him all day. Hoping to get the chance to jump his bones.

You entered the conference room with a smile, your chunky, patent leather boots echoing against the wooden floors; turning your coworkers attention over to you. Your hair flowed beautifully as you made your way in front of the round tables cleaning your throat while looking at their faces—your eyes lingering on Logan’s a little bit longer, before you spoke.

“Charles left me in charge for this month. For my very first day, i expect great results! In order for great results to happen, we have to put in the effort. I compared the results from the last couple of months. Logan and Storm, the two of you were outstanding. Quantity of students and Quality of missions were in our high range, however with you Scott……we were very low.” You turned your attention over to him, watching his body tense up and earning a chuckle from Logan.

You cleared your throat before continuing, “This isn’t to bash anyone, but to help us grow as a school and as teacher’s. These mutants come from all over to us because we understand them. They want to be comfortable and not reminded of their past lives. So, in order for this all to happen, im giving you all new partners.” There was some whispers as they turned to look at their current partners.

“Storm and Jean, you two are together. Hank and Nightcrawler, Scott and Colossus. Logan?” He pulled out his cigar and connect his eyes with yours.

“You’re with me.”

The two of you walked side to side as you approached the school’s parking lot passing the variety of cars, on the way to your own. “So, what’s this mission about?” He spoke from behind you, his eyes following your hips as you walked, trailing down to your ass and how heavy it looked in those black leather jean’s you were wearing.

“We’re looking for a mutant named Cupid and no he’s not the blonde bitch from Olympus.” You cursed, earning a chuckle from Logan.

Finally reaching your car, Logan was amazed at your taste. Your car was a matte black dodge charger, with lightly tinted windows and matching leather seats. He hopped in the passenger seat while you occupied the driver’s. “Tell me more about this love bastard,” now you were the one to chuckle. God was he hot.

“Cupid’s been causing a lot of issues in city, he currently resides in a small town and the mayor has asked for our help. His powers are based on two emotes everyone has. Love and Hate. He can control a person based on those emotions.” You pulled out of the lot, driving to your mission’s destination.

“Now, we can either do this Charle’s way or my way.” He turned to you, with an eyebrow raise, puffing on his cigar.

“And what way is that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, baby~”

The car ride was quiet, besides your radio playing and the sound of his breathing while puffed on his cigar. However, Logan took glances at you from here and there. Watching how your eyes would gleam as the sun hit it, how you would bob head to the songs you liked, and those lips….god your lips looked heavenly. He could stare at those all day, wishing he could kiss them forever.

“Logan?” You called out and he snapped out of his days, looking around before looking back at you. “You okay? We’re here.” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded, the two of you stepping out of the car and approaching the apple green house.

You lead the way, while Logan watched your back. Those hazel eyes stuck on your derrière. “I don’t know exactly how he uses his powers, so just be on your game, Lo.” You turned your head slightly, giving him a small smile before turning around to knock on the white door. A few seconds after, a male appeared wearing a ruby red robe and blue boxer’s, pinching his nose as he sniffed.

You turned to look at your partner before back at the mutant. “Are you, Ezekiel?” You asked, a smile on your face while Logan wore his usual resting face. “Depends, are you the cops?” He asked, eyes falling from yours and onto Logan’s before going back to yours. You shook your head and smiled once more.

“Do you mind if we come in? We aren’t going to hurt you, we just wanna talk.” He said nothing, studying both of your faces before turning away; letting you both in. You followed after him, looking around his house—trying to understand him before speaking with him. Logan watched as the kid plopped on his messy couch, pulling out a small trinket and sniffing the contents. He let out an exasperated sigh and locked eyes with Logan.

“Want some?”

“I’m good, bub.” You finally joined them and sat down in the small chair across from him, Logan opting to stand besid you—cigar in the corner of his mouth.

“We’re from the Charles Xavier school for the gifted mutants. We heard about the little trouble you’ve been causing here.” He looked at you and relaxed on the couch, smirking.

“Trouble? I just help those that needed it, isn’t that what you do? I heard about this school….this Xavier guy seems like a quack. Not interested, but if you lose the top, I might be convinced.” You could sense Logan’s mood change and you held your hand out, letting him know that you had this. Guess it’s time to do it your way. Sorry Professor.

You slowly undid the buttons that held your black button up together, freeing some of your cleavage, making both Logan and Ezekiel look at you. You stared at him, smirk etching onto your face while you used your powers on the cocky mutant. He started to choke and gasp for air, causing Logan to look at him and then at you.

“Listen, do you want to die? These people are going to get fed up with you quite soon and when they do, they won’t stop until they hunt you down and have your dumb blonde head on a stick. But why wait for that when I can do it myself?” Your tone was cold and your eyes had darkened, scaring the mutant. His pale face was turning a shade of pink and Logan was getting worried.

“Princess….” He started off, but you held your hand out again. “What do ya say? Want me to kill you? Or will you let us help you and keep you safe?” You released the pressure on his throat, letting Ezekiel catch his breath. He nodded and let out a breathless okay, and you smiled; quickly buttoning your top back up before standing on your two feet.

“Good, see you at the school. Logan, give him the card.” You said leaving the two men in the house. Logan dropped the card onto the dark oak coffee table, before looking at the mutant.

“Dude, she’s crazy!”

“Tell me bout’ it,” He muttered on his way out.

You sat in the passenger seat while Logan drove, looking out the window, in complete silence. There was some obvious tension there and you were trying your best to find out why.

“Logan? Is there something wrong?” You turned and looked at him, eyes dancing across his face. He was silent and then he looked at you, his mouth painted with a scowl.

“Yeah there is.”

“What is it?” He said nothing and you continued to look at him, before he pulled the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park and turning it off—unbuckling his seat belt along with yours.

“Think that was okay? What you pulled back there? Showing him what’s mine?” Your eyes widened and you could feel a throbbing sensation below, you crossed your legs in your seat and kept your face unreadable. Seeing you show off your breasts to the mutant had Logan seething, those were for his eyes only. You were his.

“Did Cupid use his powers on you? You okay.—“ He cut you off and pulled you by your hair, forcing your face towards his and pressing his lips onto yours—which you happily accepted. His lips were so intoxicating and you couldn’t—didn’t want to pull yourself from them. Finally getting what you wanted and when he pulled away, spit trail following, you whimpered; eyes plagued with arousal.

“Logan…” you whispered and he chuckled. “I know princess, I can smell how much you want it.” He patted his lap and you practically hopped out of your seat and into his lap, reconnecting your lips while grinding against his bulge that pressed into your middle.

Both of your hands roamed each other’s bodies, kissing and licking on each other’s sensitive spots, the car steaming up from your actions. Soon, you couldn’t bear the teasing anymore and you slowly pulled your clothes off; your top along with your bra being flung into the passenger seat—while you continued to occupy his lap.

His large hands cupping your breasts, earning a soft moan from you, before he replaced his hands with his mouth; his warm tongue glued onto your sensitive nipples. You couldn’t help your moans, hands tugging on his hair, lower half grinding on his clothed cock.

“Please Lo….neeed you to fuck me,~” You begged, moaning when he put your nipple in between his teeth, teasing it lightly.

“Gotta taste you first. Get that pretty ass in the back, princess.” You happily hopped in your car’s back seat, tugging your jeans off your thighs while he climbed in the back right behind you, pulling the jeans completely off of you—putt them with the rest of your clothes.

He eyed your half naked body, licking his lips while he trailed down from your face to the wet spot that appeared on your dark grey panties. “So wet for me. Never give this pussy up, okay?” He spanked your clothed cunt, making you yelp out and nodded your head; bottom lip between your teeth—watching his every move.

He pulled off his leather jacket, and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles; his muscles practically ripping through his beater. Both set of lips flushed with wetness, ready for what’s to come next and when he connected his mouth with your sopping wet cunt after tearing those panties off ya—your eyes immediately rolled back into your head.

Logan’s own eyes closing after tasting you, savoring how sweet you tasted. He had been thinking about this ever since he met you. He had fantasized about you every night, dreaming about you cumming all over his face. And now here he was, fulfilling his wish.

His tongue lapped up your juices like he was a dog drinking from his bowl, sucking on your throbbing clit; making you let out a series of moans—hands connecting with his hair again. “F-f-fuck….feels soo good, Lo’.” He hummed in response, lips still attached to your cunt while he added two fingers into the mix, pumping in and out of your wetness.

You were a babbling mess, moving your hips up and down; almsot riding his face—orgasm seconds away and you desperately needed to let go. “Gonna cum for me princess? Go ahead, cum all over my face. I need to taste how gushy this cunt can be.”

He was so nasty with his words, you couldn’t help but to let go; cumming all over his face and creaming on his fingers. Logan didn’t stop lapping up your juices or fucking your with his fingers, he kept going—wanting to drain all of you, until you had to beg him to stop. You pulled him up by his hair and smashed your plump lips on his, tasting yourself—moaning while he palmed your still throbbing cunt.

You pulled away and pulled his boxers down by the hem, freeing his cock; his eyes glued to yours as you immediately went to rubbing on his head. His translucent slick melting into your hands while you rubbed and jerked his mushroom tip. You watched his face contort with pleasure, his hips slowly pumping up into your fist.

“Stop teasing me, princess.” He let out a small whimper and you felt a heartbeat shoot through your core after hearing it. Logan watched as you spread your legs across his lap, squatting and angling his dick at your entrance—lowering yourself down and hissing from how he stretched you out. He was so big, pushing your walls past its normal limit. It had been a while, but none of them had ever reached his size.

“So big…” his hand fell on your hip, fingers grasping onto your ass, holding you when you finally lowered down onto him all the way.

“I know baby, but you can take it.” He slapped your ass making a slutty mewl leave your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, cunt clenching and unclenching around him before you started to bounce on him. You gasped as his tip practically kissed your cervix, his dick so deep inside of you.

But, as you continued to move, that threshold of pain vanished and was replaced with pleasure. You happily bounced on his dick, skin clapping with each move you made; his lips ghosting yours as your face was mere inches apart.

“Just like that, princess….shit,” You were so fucking tight and wet, cunt so slippery, creating a sheen of wetness on his cock. The mutant never had anything like this and he wasn’t going to give it up to anybody.

“Showing off those pretty titties to other men? Fuck, i could kill him. Want me to do that?” He grunted, pushing your hips down, making you take him even deeper. You shook your head and gripped onto his muscular shoulders, keeping steady as you bounced.

“N-no…I'm sorry, daddy! Fuck—you’re reaching so deep, Logan!” You were clinging to him so tightly, the man was losing it. He pushed you all the way down, big rough hands gripped your waist, while his tip was pressed right in your cervix—before he scooted halfway off the car seat and pushing your torso closer to his, proceeding to drill your cunt sloppy.

The loud squelching noise combined with your sweet noises was enough fuel for the wild mutant. Your ass jiggling with each movement, rocking the car as you bounced. You were close, so close now and he felt it. Felt how your walls were spasming around his girth and how louder your moans got when he hit that spot over and over. And he was right behind you too.

“Let it go, princess. Cum for daddy~” His voice was deep and sensual, adding to the intense pleasure you were receiving—making it easier for you to cum. You were seeing white as you came; nails digging into his shoulder blades while gushing all over his cock.

And as he continued to split your cunt in half, his own release came down hard and he was pumping milky white ropes inside of you. He growled in your ear, sending shivers down your back and straight to your cunt—earning a stream of clear arousal from it, drenching his cock and the seat beneath him. You had never squirted before and with Logan being the first, had you deeper in love than you were ever before. You were his for the taking.

After cleaning you up and helping you get dressed, Logan left you in the backseat of your car before starting the car up and continuing with the drive to the mansion. He kept his eyes on you in the rear view mirror, watching you as you slept; a smile etched on his face before he placed a cigar into his mouth.

He was in love and he was never going to lose you. You were his best rider after all.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]