#and 2. there are a lot of little details that are so random that even if this is a fan just messing with people.... why put in so much effo

[gender-euphowrya]

blue prince is gonna make me set up a conspiracy theory corkboard with red string wall

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. moon ki-yong (the salesman) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

moon ki-yong is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ki-yong doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what moon ki-yong was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ki-yong?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

[divinesangel]

— random details about your future spouse [PAC]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

they've been through some stuff and came out the other side with a calm, steady mindset. they're the type who doesn't get easily shaken or overwhelmed by life’s challenges.

when things get hectic or stressful, they stay chill and don’t panic. they can handle chaos without losing their cool, making them someone you can rely on in tough situations.

they’re not the type to rush into things. they like to take things slow, think things through, and make sure they’re making the right moves, whether it’s in relationships, work, or life decisions.

they probably have a strong sense of family and respect for long-held values. they believe in things like loyalty, commitment, and honoring what came before, whether that’s family traditions or their own personal principles.

they’re either spiritual or have a strong personal philosophy that guides their life. they probably reflect on the bigger picture and have a deep understanding of their own purpose or place in the world.

they're not afraid to step out of their comfort zone. they love exploring new places, trying new things, and keeping life exciting. they can be spontaneous and enjoy breaking out of routines.

always thinking outside the box. they might have a knack for coming up with new ideas or solutions, whether it’s in their work, hobbies, or just life in general. they love expressing themselves in unique ways.

they don’t take shortcuts. they put in the effort and grind steadily toward their goals, even if it takes time. they understand that success is built on consistent work and dedication.

you can count on them, no questions asked. they keep their promises and show up when they say they will, whether it’s for something big or small. they’re the kind of person you can trust with anything.

they’ve got their finances together. they don’t live paycheck to paycheck, and they know how to manage money responsibly. they’ve probably built a secure foundation for themselves and are smart about financial decisions.

once they’re in, they’re in for the long haul. they’re fiercely loyal and protective of the people they love. they’ll stand by your side through thick and thin, and you’ll always know they’ve got your back no matter what.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

they’ve been through some tough stuff before (like heartbreak or betrayal), and they’re still working on getting over it. they’re in a process of healing, so they might be a bit cautious when it comes to love, but they’re definitely growing through it.

at times, they might feel a little lost or unsure about where they’re headed. they’re working on figuring things out, but they can get stuck in their head, trying to make the right choices. they may need a bit of time to get their confidence back before moving forward with big decisions.

they used to hold onto things too tightly, whether it was their money, their emotions, or their need to control everything. but now, they’re realizing they need to loosen up a bit and trust the process. they’re getting better at letting go of the things they can’t control.

they care a lot about building something real and secure for the future. they’re the kind of person who’s thinking about their career, their finances, and how to make sure they’ve got a strong foundation. they’re not into quick fixes; they’re focused on what lasts.

they can get caught up in the “what ifs” and feel like there are too many options to choose from. they might struggle with indecision or fantasizing about all the possibilities instead of making moves. they’re learning to focus and stop overthinking everything.

they’re someone who’s always looking for fresh starts. they might be starting a new chapter in their life—whether it’s career, relationships, or just personal growth. they’re focused on making things better and are always willing to work toward something new and more secure.

they’re ambitious and want more for themselves. they’re standing at a crossroads, thinking about what the next step looks like. they’re starting to plan ahead, but they’re also trying to figure out what path is the right one for them.

they’re soft-hearted and sensitive, not afraid to show their feelings. they’re the type to express their emotions and be vulnerable with the people they trust. they’re also really intuitive and can pick up on how others are feeling, offering emotional support when needed.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

they’re someone who’s got their life together and doesn’t rely on others to feel secure. they’re proud of what they’ve built and enjoy the rewards of their hard work. they’re confident in their own abilities and don’t need validation from anyone else.

they know that good things take time. they’re not into rushing through life but are all about putting in the work and letting things grow naturally. they’re all about steady progress and building something real and long-lasting.

sometimes they feel unsure of themselves, especially when things aren’t going as planned. they may have moments of questioning their strength or abilities. they’re still figuring out how to trust themselves fully, but they’re working through it.

they can be a little guarded, especially when it comes to their emotions or what they’ve worked hard for. they like to keep control, but they’re learning to let go and trust more. it’s a process, but they’re getting there.

they’re the type of person who handles life with a lot of maturity. they take responsibility seriously and know how to manage their finances, their career, and their relationships in a practical way. they don’t take shortcuts.

they can be hard to read sometimes, and their emotions are deeper than they let on. they’re intuitive and sensitive, but they often keep their feelings under wraps. they might struggle to fully express what they’re going through, but they’re working on understanding themselves better.

they don’t like rushing into decisions. they’ll spend a lot of time weighing out their options and might even avoid making tough choices altogether. they want to make sure they’re doing the right thing, but they can get stuck in overthinking.

when they finally make up their mind, they’re sharp, direct, and won’t hesitate to go after what they want. they’re all about clarity and truth, and once they’re sure about something, they’re confident in their actions.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €8 and soulmate readings for €15 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[droolypupboy]

tips for solo puppy play!!

pup play doesn’t have to be a partnered activity and solo play can be EXTREMELY fulfilling. you deserve to explore your headspace 🫶🫶 i have another post for more general tips for feeling more puppy, you can check that out here, a lot of things on there are ALSO applicable for solo pups.

warning, this is not for puppy regressors!! this is an nsfw post and probably not safe for u if you regress while online. stay safe, sfw puppies.

i would recommend checking out the above post if you want more details on the following: playing fetch alone, puppy snacks, & oral fixation!! all those things can help a LOT for solo pups but since i already went into so much detail previously, this post will have its own unique set of tips. i’m a puppy & i own a puppy sub so im super smart and you should listen 2 me!!!!

🐾 eating from a dog bowl can help a lot!! but even if that is inaccessible or not to your taste, you can just sit/lay on your tummy on the ground and eat small snacks from a plate. be careful of choking if you choose to lay!!

🐾 make little pup noises!! if you feel yourself going nonverbal and you’re in a place where you’re safe and comfy and have the time, lean into it. make little “hmph” noises when you’re confused, little squeaks when you’re excited, whine and pant, do all the things!! these can be used both sexually and nonsexually. it should come naturally if it’s gonna happen but there’s nothing wrong with doing it on purpose to get the ball rolling.

🐾 you can either invest in a large dog bed OR you can make a little nest of pillows and blankets.

🐾 being on all fours, sitting on the floor, & laying on your tummy are wonderful. inaccessible?? that’s okay!! these are enhancers, not necessities.

🐾 ALL you need for this is a bedroom and some random items. find some things (bad options are things like keys, lighters, phones, anything you use super frequently) to hide and go find again. the more space you have the better but even in smaller spaces, it can be VERY fun to lean into.

🐾 tilt your head in confusion, nudge and “paw” at things, nip and bite at things (safely, clean things, nothing that could hurt you or that you could choke on).

🐾 if you can afford it, invest in a knot style toy. it can help a lot in feeling like you’re small getting used by a bigger dog if that’s your thing. toys with suction cups are amazing too, the less you have to work, the better!!

🐾 do NOT be afraid to use pup centered asmr. it’s available on many many places but most accessibly, youtube & soundgasm through the site flaru. its not cringe, its not silly, it can be rlly good for the headspace. if you’re not sure if you’ll like it, give it a go!! why not??

🐾 invest in dog toys if you can!! make sure to clean them thoroughly before putting them in your mouth, stored r nasty, don’t use any that an actual dog has used only use fresh ones. if you can’t do that, chewelry, largely available on etsy and marketed for sensory issues (which yes, it does work for as well) is a really nice & discreet option.

🐾 go to town if you have a PRIVATE back yard!! run around!! have the zoomies!! chase toys (do not put them in your mouth if you’re playing outside)!! just have a good time.

🐾 press your nose against the window and watch the birds & squirrels & any other animals outside!!

🐾 overstimulation!! it’s rlly good, lose yourself, don’t stop until you can’t take it anymore. silly pups need to get fucked stupid.

🐾 slobber on toys (of the sfw AND nsfw variety), suck your fingers, get messy eating a popsicle or something similar. spit can be VERY puppy if you can handle the mess

that’s all for now, silly pups!! have fun, play safe, be kind to yourself, and remember that all of us puppies are different and unique. what makes one person feel puppy might not make the next person feel puppy. figure out what works for YOU. being puppy is an independent journey 🐕🦴🐾🎾

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 6 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!, this chapter is pretty much pWITHp (can be read alone, however you will be a tiny bit confused)~

♡ Rated: I for Indulge

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation!

♡ Chapter Warnings: smoking, alcohol, vague mentions of su*cidal thoughts, discussions about depression, vague allusions to substance abuse (alcohol), a few emotional breakdowns, a drop of subby Jk (truly a drop), handjob, slight dom Jk makes an appearance, oral (m + f), a hand goes over a mouth (;D), a hint of voyeurism, protected and unprotected sex 

♡ Word Count: 19.7k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: goosebumps by Travis Scott— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Beta: Thank you so much to @mellowladyanchor @iutint @pearinwords for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: Office Sexcapades Part 2! First series shift coming next chapter~ Just a fair warning, this series is about to take a dip, specifically regarding mental health— once again a reminder that if that is a sensitive subject for you please be cautious when reading the following chapters! And sorry to everyone once again for the extreme delay trying to get this out! Life happens :')  

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming...?

Jungkook’s days had a tendency to go badly the very minute he opened his eyes. It was either Yuri, work, himself, or the most miniscule obstacle that even Jungkook could have never predicted. At this point, it was a curse he deserved considering everything about his shameful existence. Simply waking up was all it took for the world to start throwing shit at him for its sick pleasure just to see if he’d make it through the day. It was exhausting and today proved to be no exception to the torture. 

Jungkook woke up, made himself a little coffee, went to the gym, came back to shower, got dressed, then headed to work. Dae-Jung dropped him off in the garage, which had been something his dad always told him was the quickest way to go instead of through the main lobby. He’d skipped too many workouts, so in turn he asked his driver to let him out towards the back for the opportunity to get in his much needed extra steps. He bid farewell to Dae-Jung and then he steadily weaved his way through the sea of cars, mindlessly heading toward the door thinking about what he needed to do today, when bam— you were standing right in front of him getting out of the passenger seat of some random vehicle. 

It only took a second for his confusion and amusement at the situation to turn into something even he didn’t understand. With his luck with the universe, he should have known it wasn’t just going to be a funny coincidence you two could laugh about later. 

Jungkook watched, unbeknownst to you both, as you got out of the car first before Kim Taehyung emerged from the driver's seat. You were smiling, so was he, and Jungkook noticed as you started making your way inside a certain look in both of your eyes, an uneasy comfortability, that made him remember the fact that you two had dated before. 

The minute the door closed behind the both of you, Jungkook felt his blood boil to a temperature he was sure rivaled the sun. His relatively moderate mood at the time transformed into something monstrous and hideous. He had practically stormed in soon after you made it inside. He had no idea why he was so upset. Nothing had happened— nothing had happened, so why the fuck were you with Taehyung? 

Jungkook was never the best at hiding his emotions, so the minute Jimin walked in his office later that day, it was apparent by the pout on his face that he had an attitude. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Jimin tried to be lighthearted, but considering the situation Jungkook was in, it was hard to know how serious the issue might be. What if this was about Yuri?

Jungkook looked up at him and then went back to staring off into space. “Hyung, is it normal for a guy to drive a girl to work?” It was the first thing he said to him, and it was certainly not what Jimin had expected to come out of his mouth. He stopped in his tracks, feeling uneasy about the question. 

“Ummm… what’s their relationship?” Jimin asked, rolling with it. He came in here with a work question originally, but it seemed it could wait for the moment. 

“They say they’re friends.” Jungkook mumbled shamefully. He couldn’t even look his hyung in the eye confidently. It sounded nonsensical even to his own ears. 

Jimin almost wanted to laugh, but then he grew more worried wondering where this question was coming from. 

“Why are you asking? Don’t tell me, Yuri—” Jimin’s mind was always quick to go there. It had every reason to.

“No— no, I just watched this movie and saw people debating about it.” Jungkook quickly came up with the lame excuse on the spot. He didn’t know what to feel— better that it wasn’t about Yuri, or worse because it wasn’t about Yuri. He felt pathetic. 

“Oh… well, in that case, probably not. Someone definitely has feelings, maybe one or both of them,” Jimin giggled at that. He had a lot more experience in the romantic department, so Jungkook really took his advice to heart. It was a little ironic considering he was the man who had been married for nearly four years.

Jungkook tried his best to stay calm. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but you had literally told him with your own mouth that you and Taehyung had dated before. He’d seen too many movies and dramas depicting exes rekindling their relationships after previously complicated circumstances in their lives had prevented them from being together at the time. Maybe you two have matured and are finally ready to embrace each other again in the way you couldn’t beforehand. Just because you both did date in the past doesn’t mean things needed to end between you two. But that very thought made a weird wave of emotion wash over him— sadness, anger? He wasn’t quite sure, and he was even more unsure why he was having a reaction in the first place. You might be embroiled with him in an affair, but your life was your business, not his, and he had no right to care. Right? Right…? 

He kept trying to reassure himself, but the minute he came out of a meeting and saw the two of you together smiling and laughing as you always did, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head for some reason. 

He just didn’t like Taehyung— Taehyung just… Why was he always there?! He was a problem, and Jungkook was confused why you didn’t see it. His own conflicted feelings pissed him off even more and just seeing you— you— why were you doing this to him?

When the meeting ended, he got out of there as fast as he could. The minute he made it back to his office, Jungkook sent you a text asking to meet him in the storage room, but not before grabbing what he needed out of his desk first.

It hadn’t been too long after Jungkook had arrived when you knocked twice and he opened the door. You had been in relatively good spirits before you walked in, that was until you saw the slightly dazed, but pouty look on Jungkook’s face when he guided you inside. 

“You ok?” you asked hesitantly when he closed the door behind you. You honestly weren’t in the mood to fight with him today. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything, but slowly nodded his head. 

He was fine? Yep, you didn’t believe that for one second, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, you didn’t either. 

“Well, in that case, I wanted to say I was actually a little glad you called me in here. All these meetings, graphs, spreadsheets, Excel— I’m honestly done with it all. I’m frazzled. It was so bad yesterday that I overslept and Taehyung had to pick me up this morning or else I would have been late,” you sighed, rubbing your temples to quell the stress.

You unintentionally had given Jungkook a rationale for what he saw this morning, but it hadn’t really solved the problem. Because why did you need to ask Taehyung when the route he takes to work isn’t too far from your apartment? You could have easily asked him to take you. For some reason, Jungkook’s brain didn’t take into account that you didn’t know that and instead focused on the fact that Taehyung had been your knight in shining armor, saving you from dealing with public transportation when you were already late. The thought just didn’t sit right with him for some reason.

“Anyway, I’ve been stressed, and I know this arrangement is mainly about you, but I was hoping you might be able to help me take the edge off,” you sighed, feeling a little embarrassed asking. 

Jungkook had no idea what that meant and was too distracted by the fact that you wanted him for something to even try to figure it out. He tried his best to keep his cool. You wanted him! 

When Jungkook didn’t say anything back and continued to have this dopey look on his face, you wondered if he understood what you said.

“Jungkook?” you questioned.

“Hmm—” it managed to snap him out of it a little bit.

“You do know what I meant, right?” you finally asked when he still hadn’t done anything.

“Oh— ummmm…” He was a bit clueless it seemed. You were far too prideful to ask him outright, so instead you took initiative and made your way over to the table. 

You didn’t turn around as you started undoing your pants— it was extra cold today, so you went with pants instead of the skirts you’d usually wear. In hindsight, if you had known he was going to call you in here today, you probably wouldn’t have worn them. Your cheeks burned as you pulled them down, set them on the table beside you, and kicked off your heels. You put on your best straight face, not wanting him to know how embarrassed you felt, before hopping up on the table.

Even in the dark, you could see Jungkook’s bewildered gaze, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he was blushing like he always did. 

“You get what I mean now?” The lilt in your voice made it obvious that you were teasing him, but you also couldn’t deny that you were a little impatient. You smiled at him as you spread your legs a little, hoping that would entice him enough to beckon him more quickly.

It was hard to see anything in the dark, but the glimmer of light that seeped in from underneath the door outlined your body in a way that had him practically drooling as he stared at you. Sometimes it was hard to believe how pretty you were, even when he could hardly see you. 

Jungkook made his way over quickly and once he got close, it dawned on him what exactly you were asking from him. 

“So, are you just going to stand there?” you asked softly, your eyes staring up at him innocently, yet the way your leg began to rake up his own made tingles spread through his whole body in a flurry.  

Jungkook was quick to close the distance between you two. The longer he kissed you, the more and more it dawned on him that you had asked him to do this for you, not Taehyung— fuck Taehyung. You had gone to him in a time of need and suddenly that thought made the flame grow all-consuming.

He wanted to have you. Jungkook was down on his knees soon after, lightly kissing and sucking along the expanse of your thighs. With the extra skin exposed, so soft, so warm, he didn’t know how to act. 

Jungkook treated you well. He always did, when he wasn’t cursing your very existence, and as he drew orgasm after orgasm from you just like you wanted, you felt the stress wash away the longer he was between your legs. He seemed especially focused on you despite his needs being the reason he called you in here, and in between the moments he was a major dick, you had to admit he was actually very sweet. He was so attentive, and in the short time you’d been doing this, you felt like he already knew your body so well.

Moments like this made you wonder how ten months could have passed without his wife doing something, anything with him. You didn’t want to speculate too much— that wasn’t really your business and you didn’t know their relationship enough to make any type of accusations. But unless Jungkook was leaving a big part of the story out, you just couldn’t understand her. 

Your mind grew fuzzy at some point, you ended up losing count of how many times he made you cum when you hit your limit— you still had to be able to walk out of here after all. You finally pulled him away, and you could see his face glistening despite the darkness in the room. It was a sinful sight that made a wave of electricity run right through you.

When Jungkook finally lifted himself to his feet once again, you saw the quick way he glanced down before looking into your eyes. Right, of course you couldn’t forget about him.

“Mmmm, just go slow. I have to make it back to my desk somehow.” It was sort of a joke, but you also legitimately feared that if you did anything more, Jungkook might need to help you to your desk, and you were sure people would ask questions. 

Jungkook quickly nodded before fishing out the condom he grabbed from his desk earlier. Truth be told, he had to go slow or he probably wouldn’t even last a minute. He had wanted to focus on you, and he relished in the pretty sounds you made as you ran your fingers through his hair. However, it got him so worked up that when you tugged on his strands particularly hard while you came on his tongue again, he nearly finished right along with you. Somehow he had held it off, but at this point, he felt like he was only a trigger hair away from losing it.

Slow and steady was definitely the way to go. The minute Jungkook wrangled the condom on, he was inside you moving at a nice, comfortable, steady pace. His strokes were languid, seemingly trying to pay close attention to the way he moved; deep, gentle, and lazily rhythmic, each glide made your toes curl. He filled you up in all the right places and it was so soft how all his attention was on your gaze. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said it was incredibly romantic. But alas, in reality you were getting fucked at your workplace by your superior who was a married man. Nothing screams romance more than that.

Despite his efforts to try to go at a steady pace, he still wasn’t able to last long with the way you squeezed around him. You were so slick from your previous activities, and your warmth made it frustratingly easy to give in. Suddenly, Jungkook came, nearly knocking the wind out of himself in the process as he worked his way through it.

By the end, you both were just trying to catch your breath. You knew you had to leave soon. You had been gone far too long and you knew someone would start looking for you soon. 

Jungkook moved away to throw away the condom while you worked on getting your pants on again. Suddenly, his voice cut through the growing silence. “By the way, my way to work isn’t too far from your apartment. If you ever need a ride in the morning, you can just text and ask.” You didn’t notice the blush that had spread across his cheeks.

You laughed. “And what would people think if they saw us getting out of the same car together? Just to save us the trouble of being bombarded with questions, I’ll only come to you if Taehyung isn’t available— but hopefully that won’t even happen anyway because, crossing my fingers, by New Year’s I’ll have my own car and I won’t have to worry about that anymore,” you tried to smile.

“Right… I almost forgot,” he laughed, nervously fluffing his hair. 

“You were the one who helped me, remember…?” You were a little surprised you needed to remind him considering it had only been a few days ago. 

“Right… right, I’m sorry,” he was always so quick to apologize. 

“There’s no need to apologize,” you mumbled.  

It hadn’t been long since that meeting where you had ended up being a tiny bit late due to being stuck in traffic for what felt like forever. Luckily for you, unlike the times you’d gone on your own, the fact that Jungkook hadn’t arrived meant that nothing could start without him there, so by the time you burst through the doors, you really hadn’t missed anything. 

On the way back, you had asked Jungkook about all the car stuff that had been bouncing around in your head since you started your research. You first made sure to remind him that unlike him, you weren’t the son of a trillion-won tech company’s CEO and you couldn’t get just anything. Surprisingly, Jungkook gave you some pretty insightful advice about what to look for and possible features you might be able to add within your budget. He even recommended a few brands to research further. It had definitely helped refine your search and now you were close to having something picked out and ready to move on to the next stage.

It was odd that he apparently forgot this had happened, but you didn’t want to get on him too much considering everything that was going on. Everyone was busy moving toward the end of the last quarter, and you could only imagine what other things he was dealing with that would cause the memory to leave his mind so easily.

•────•──────────•────•

“Mom?” You questioned as you answered the call.

“Oh? So my daughter finally decided to pick up the phone.” Her tone was so deadpan you knew you were one of the only people who could’ve picked up on the sarcasm and humor in her voice.

“I’m sorry…” You sighed, but a smile still remained on your face. 

“You decide to move to Seoul and ever since then it’s almost impossible to get a hold of you anymore,” she mumbled, and in the background you could hear the faint sound of something hitting up against the metal bowl she would always cook in.

“We just talked last week.” You reminded her.

“Last week…” you heard her scoff. “I should be able to talk to my daughter whenever I please!” 

At this point, you couldn’t stop the laughter knowing how dramatic your mom could be at times. “I’m sorry, mom.”

She scoffed again. “Where even are you right now?”

You pulled your jacket a little closer to your body as the cool breeze seeped even further into your skin. “I’m walking to the subway station. You called me as soon as I left the office.”

“At this time of night?!” She exclaimed scoldingly. You couldn’t blame her considering it was almost nine o’clock.

“I’ve been busy these days…” You simply settled not wanting to get into the details. Your mom knew about your work troubles to a certain extent. She knew about your frustrating boss and how that situation arose because you spilled coffee on him on your first day, but you kept the more painful details to yourself. She worries about you enough as it is and the last thing you wanted to tell her was how much you were suffering because of a mistake. You had been so eager to let her know about the improvement in your relationship following your promotion, you hadn’t found the heart to tell her things had gone south again.

Of course she also doesn’t know about the affair either, how you were now sleeping with the Jeon Jungkook you used to rant to her about until the early morning hours. It was still hard to admit to yourself that it was happening, and even though you knew your mom wouldn’t say anything to anyone about it, you couldn’t bear the humiliation you’d inevitably feel if you told her. 

“Is that why you never answer my calls anymore?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy…” You sighed.

“You’ve always been busy. All you ever do is work; you’ve been like this since you were young. Most parents have to pester their kids to do their homework, but you’d already have it done before me or your dad made it home. You’d always be sitting at your desk with your head in your books already looking into the next week’s material.” She absentmindedly reminisced. You couldn’t help but laugh, your mom’s words hitting you with a wave of nostalgia you weren’t prepared for. You could never forget your nights working at your little green desk in the corner of your room. It sat right beside your window that provided a comforting view of the Busan cityscape, and if you squinted hard enough, you could even see the water despite how far inland your house resided. 

It was typically just you in the house for a few hours after you’d get home from school, both of your parents still out and busy hard at work. As soon as you made it home you were dropping your things off, taking a seat at your desk, and getting straight into work. Even while you were younger you didn’t want your grades to be another worry your parents would have to constantly think about, so you always felt the need to take initiative and work hard. It always made you so happy to see your parent’s shocked faces when they would get back from their second or third jobs and you would tell them you had finished all your homework and you were getting a head start on looking into what your teacher said you’d be covering in the following week. You lived for their pleasantly surprised faces, and from an early age, you made it your mission for them to continue to be proud of you. 

“I have to be busy so I can earn a lot of money.” You reminded her. 

“It’s always money with you… you’re just like your dad. Will you ever forget work and visit your family again?” 

“You know I’ll be going back a month from now. Plus, how else am I supposed to get you guys really nice Christmas presents?”

“But that’s too far away. Who cares about Christmas presents when I haven’t seen my daughter since you came home for my birthday, and that was three months ago at this point.”

“I know…” The guilt creeping in made your cheeks burn. You all were really close and even though it's been years since you’ve moved away from your little house in Busan, you used to always try and make time to visit home whenever you could, no matter how busy you were sometimes… 

“Your dad’s been sad you’re not visiting this year for his birthday. We’ve been having all his favorite dishes this week just to try and cheer him up.” You giggled at your mom’s words. Your dad could be even more dramatic than your mom sometimes, especially when it came to you. 

“Is that what you’re working on right now?” 

“Mhmmm. We’re having agujjim (spicy braised monkfish) today,” she said absentmindedly, likely focused on the next step in her internal recipe book. Just the mention of it had your mouth watering, and for a split second you debated if you could somehow take the train back home and make it back in time for work in the morning. 

“Tell him I’ll be sure to call him on Friday to try and make up for it.” 

“You should call me back when you make it home. I’m sure your dad would like to hear that from you himself.” Your mom mentioned.

You were immediately about to object, but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized there was no reason why you couldn’t besides being exhausted from your work day. Plus, you really had been busy lately so your phone calls home were few and far between. 

“I’ll try and see if I can, but no promises.” 

“I talked to your dad right before I called you, and he said he will be here in about thirty minutes. I’m expecting your call sometime after that.” Your mom was serious once again, but you knew there would be no hard feelings if you didn’t end up calling. 

Your parents know you best in how much you consume yourself with work (though in more recent years that hasn’t been on your own volition), so situations like this weren't exactly new. They were always your biggest cheerleaders in your life, and you could never forget how proud they were of you when you told them you got your job Golden Tech, and they nearly fainted when you mentioned your promotion a few months ago. 

“Tell dad I love him if you don’t hear from me in the next hour.” 

“Mmmm, and what are your plans after work tomorrow?”

You thought about it. “I’m actually leaving a little early to get my nails done after work.” 

“I see. I’m still expecting your call later, but if not, call us afterward tomorrow and make sure I get a picture of your nails.” Your mom added. She always loved to see them whenever you’d mention you got them done. 

“Will do.”

“Alright then. Be careful on your way home. It’s late, so if you’re not calling, be sure to text me when you make it back home.” 

You grinned. “Alright, mom. I’ll talk to you later. Any longer and I might miss the next train.”

“You better,” her seriousness was back, making your smile grow wider.

“I will, don’t worry… Bye mom~”

“Bye.” 

And with that you clicked off and picked up your pace. You were only a block away, but you still found yourself hurrying. The last thing you wanted to do was have to wait for the next train, it was already late. 

It just had your mind traveling back to Jeon Jungkook and how it was all his fault that you were at work for so long. He just made your blood boil, yet at the same time… 

You shook your head hurriedly. No Jungkook thoughts after work. 

It was easy to say that, but as you hurried your way for some reason his face continued to follow you even as you sped down the stairs of the subway station. He pissed you off, he really did. Why was he always in your head? 

•────•──────────•────•

You were on your way back to your desk when you spotted Jungkook by the meeting room. At first you were going to speed right past, coming to the quick conclusion that he was preparing for the upcoming meeting later on, but something just seemed… off. He was pacing in front of the doorway and the look in his eyes, even from far away, made your passing gaze linger on him with concern. 

Just as you were about to walk by the hallway, your feet stopped you entirely. The longer you looked the more worried you became. Even still, the panic didn’t set in until you got a little closer. 

“Director Jeon?” you called out hesitantly.

The minute Jungkook turned around, you could truly process the fear in his eyes. You had never seen him look so distressed, only rivaling that first night you shared in his office. His eyes were looking at you, but it was like he was staring right through your very being. What was going on?

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you said, far more seriously, grabbing him so he’d look at you. Your stomach dropped when you felt him shaking in your grasp.

“Uhhh— this— um— this presentation, I—” Jungkook stumbled over his words and seeing how disheveled he was, you knew you had to get him out of there. You looked around worriedly at all the people passing by.

You quickly told him to meet you in the storage room and said you’d be in a few minutes after. Jungkook didn’t fight you on it, instead he just steadily headed over in that direction while you walked in the other. You both knew you couldn’t be seen with each other, so the extra time allowed you to quickly show your face to your team and drop something off in your office before heading out to join Jungkook.

You knocked twice, waited a second, then knocked twice again— something you’d easily gotten into the habit of doing by now. When Jungkook opened the door, he still seemed just as distraught as he had when you parted ways. You hastily made your way inside to figure out what was going on.

Before you could really even get in the room, you saw Jungkook fall back against the door and sink to the floor. His breathing was shallow, so shallow you were worried he was moments away from passing out. His fingers quickly threaded into his hair and even in the dark, you could see how tight his grip was. You didn’t say anything at first, instead moving to take a seat right next to him.

“Deep breaths,” you said as you looked at him worriedly. 

Jungkook quickly reached for your hand and you let him squeeze it tightly. He wasn’t looking at you and you were worried he didn’t hear your words before, so you called his name again and started taking slow, deep breaths to get him to follow along. 

Jungkook’s eyes darted towards yours, and after a little while, he attempted to join you. It was like he had run a marathon with how out of breath he seemed. 

“I can’t— Y/n— I can’t,” he cried, and you held onto him tightly as you tried to calm him down a little. You rubbed reassuring circles on his hand as he tried to slow his breathing down. It took some time, but eventually you both got in sync. You didn’t stop, scared that the minute you did, Jungkook would go back to square one. 

It was Jungkook who finally halted doing the breathing exercises and pulled away before bringing his knees close and resting his head in his arms. You placed your hand on his back, feeling him shaking slightly still.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Your voice was calm as you looked over at him. “We have a little bit of time before the meeting starts. We could just sit in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

Jungkook leaned his head back. 

“I used to not be like this— I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve given countless presentations in the past and I was fine. But these days, I don’t know— when I see their eyes it feels like they can see through everything and—” Jungkook was teary as he spoke, and things just grew worse.

“How am I ever going to run this company if I can’t even stand in front of people to give this stupid presentation?!” It was a thought he had never told anyone, his growing fear about becoming the CEO one day. He didn’t want to say anything because he was embarrassed. He wanted people to have high expectations of him, but he wasn’t even meeting his own these days.

This wasn’t even a big presentation. It was just a review of what the teams had already accomplished and what everyone needed to get done before the holidays. It wasn’t major, but there were going to be a lot of people there, representatives from all the departments and a few higher-up executives to check in and see how things were going. It should be simple, he’d done this presentation a countless number of times, but this year for some reason, just the thought of everyone sitting there and staring at him, only him—

It felt like that nightmare all over again; the executives judgingly peering at him, degrading him as he shamelessly took you on the table.

It had already been bad the last time he just had to go up there and say a few things when you did your presentation together. In that case, however, Jungkook only needed to chime in occasionally and give a little extra insight while you did almost everything. This time you weren’t going to be up there for him to hide behind. He had to stand there all alone, everyone’s eyes would be on him and—

The feeling of your hand moving on top of his tore him away from his rushing thoughts. Jungkook looked down at them, then back up to meet your smiling eyes.

Instead of saying anything, he threaded his fingers between yours.

“Their— their eyes are so scary. I know they’ll see everything,” his tears finally spilled over. You noticed the little light seeping in and reflecting off the wetness that began to stain his cheeks. 

He was shaking really, really badly. It reminded you of the fateful day your affair had started. His sad, watery eyes were peering into your own, practically pleading for help. It contrasted with the Jungkook you had begun to grow familiar with, the one who would get mad at you for no reason other than the fact that you existed. But this felt like the real Jungkook. Behind all the anger was someone so broken, it was almost hard to watch. 

You had seen his presentations in the past. Most of the time it was just executives who would be present, so for a while it was only on rare occasions had you’d seen Jungkook actually having to lead meetings. You had hated Jungkook at the time, but it was one of the few moments your hatred would dim and be replaced by a sliver of admiration. He was good. He would always be cool, calm, and concise when he talked, elaborating his points well whenever needed, and answering questions with just as much care and attention. It made his panic today seem even crazier when you thought back on what he was like just a year ago. It made you want to ask what had happened. You tried not to ask him too many questions, allowing him to tell you things only if he wanted to. After a little bit of thinking, you ultimately decided against it, figuring that if he wanted to tell you, he would.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know I’ll get up there and will be shaking so much, everyone will hear it in my voice, just like last time— I’m so fucking pathetic.” And his fear just got worse. He couldn’t hide. They’d see him, they’d see everything— how incapable he was. He was a fucking mess and all his coworkers would see it.

“Don’t say you’re pathetic,” you finally interjected, hating how much he said that sometimes.

“I am, I can’t—!”

“Shhhh!” you squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t say you can’t, because you can. I’ve seen you up there before.” 

Jungkook sadly laughed at that. “That was before, but now I can’t—”

“No— I’m not going to sit here and let you continue to say these bad things about yourself. Nothing good will come from doing that. You can do this, okay?” You were stern, yet reassuring all at the same time. 

Jungkook just stared at you wide-eyed for a second before he leaned his head back against the door. “It just looks so easy for you. You’re always so amazing when you’re up there. How do you do it?” he sighed, staring off into the darkness of the storage room.

It was now your turn to get a little flustered, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside to get back to the point. “Well, it just took a lot of practice. Presentations used to be a daunting task back when I was in school, but I picked up a lot of tips, tricks, and advice over the years that really helped me. I’m not a professional or anything, but I know that anxiety with public speaking can sometimes stem from other problems and stressors you might be dealing with. Considering you said you didn’t used to be like this, I would say that might be your issue.” 

Jungkook sat back and thought about it. That would make a lot of sense actually. “You’re probably right. I haven’t felt good in years, but this year in particular… things have gotten considerably worse.” His voice wavered at the end at the mere thought of it.

“We could talk about it if you like?” you mentioned softly.

Jungkook slowly shook his head. “Not enough time, and just…” He shook his head again.

“That’s fine. We could sit here and continue to take deep breaths together. Maybe it’ll help you calm down.” You would sometimes do a little meditation whenever you had a big presentation coming up and you were particularly nervous. Though what Jungkook was going through went beyond just the jitters, it couldn’t hurt to try it out. 

Jungkook steadily nodded, closed his eyes, and turned his attention to focus on slowing his breathing. 

He really had needed this. From the very minute he woke up this morning, the shaking had already started. He had so badly wanted Yuri to do something to take away the anxiety; even simply being a listening ear to his nervous ranting would have helped. 

Yuri had been around at the apartment that morning. Maybe she had no work plans and none of her friends were pulling her to hang out so early in the morning like they usually would on her free days. He wasn’t sure the exact reason, but he was happy she was home. 

Jungkook’s hands had been shaking so badly, he nearly spilled his cereal trying to bring the spoon up to his mouth. Yuri had asked what was wrong with him because of how jumpy he was, but the minute he mentioned the presentation, she had simply rolled her eyes at him.

“Isn’t that your job? Why in the world would you be so nervous?” She sounded so disappointed. She had every right to be, and it wasn’t even like she was wrong. It was his job; presentations weren’t new to him. Why was he so nervous? 

Jungkook couldn’t muster up the courage to say anything else after that, knowing all too well that if he continued, things might get so bad he wouldn’t even be able to leave his apartment. Instead, he tried his best to steady his increasingly shaky hand while he ate.

Honestly, Jungkook feared what might have happened if you hadn't pulled him into the storage room. He didn’t know why he had been outside of the meeting room. His racing mind had grown more and more anxious as time grew closer to the meeting. Somehow, his feet had carried him to the room where it would all be going down, not even to prepare, but to pace and pace because the shaking just wouldn’t stop and it was getting overwhelming.

Jungkook probably would have broken down right there, causing a horrible scene in front of anyone who passed by, but thankfully you had pulled him out of his daze and helped him plant his feet on the ground again. 

“Inhale,” you said softly. Jungkook took a deep breath in, letting his lungs fill with as much air as they could hold.

A few seconds passed before you continued. “And exhale.” It was just as soft as before and Jungkook finally released the breath he had been holding. The air escaped shakily, but it still felt like a weight was being lifted off of his shoulders. 

Inhale…

…

Exhale…

…

Inhale…

…

Exhale…

…

Inhale…

…

Exhale…

…

Along the way, Jungkook started paying more attention to the way you breathed. He tried his best to follow along with your calm, deep breaths in, followed by a long exhale. He was shaking, but gradually he was able to calm himself enough to follow your steady breathing a little more easily.

Breathing should have been his sole focus, but he realized his worried thoughts were also growing calmer as he thought about you beside him. You were too nice, far too nice for someone like him. He didn’t deserve it, he knew that’s what Yuri would say, yet for some reason you were down here with him on the floor trying to help him meditate. 

At some point, he just had to open his eyes again to look over at you. Your eyes were closed as you calmly breathed in and out. You looked so relaxed and… wow, you were so pretty. Even in the dark your beauty managed to pierce through the black you both sat in, and your bewitching presence relaxed him even further. His face warmed at the sight and an overwhelming emotion filled his heart and squeezed it so tight he almost couldn’t breathe. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before, one so consuming that for once, Jungkook put overthinking aside and acted on impulse before he could stop himself. 

It completely caught you by surprise, the feeling of his hand on your chin. You nearly jumped, but you quickly relaxed when you opened your eyes and saw it was just Jungkook. You glanced down at his hand before staring back up into his eyes. A new look had settled behind his gaze, one you were completely unfamiliar with.

Jungkook let his hand cup your cheek before he moved a little closer so there was hardly any distance in between you two. His gaze wasn’t meeting your own anymore. Instead, he was peering down at your lips. 

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, so soft, as he always was. You hated the way your heart tightened.

“Is this ok?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your body didn’t even give you the chance to think about it before you nodded. It was all Jungkook needed to finally close the gap between you two. This time was different. It reminded you of the very first time he kissed you— it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t out of anger or frustration— it was… it was…

You loved the way his lips moved against yours. He was so gentle, and his soft sighs anytime he’d pull away to breathe were addicting. You loved the way he held you, so tenderly— no, this wasn’t right. What was going on? 

You kissed him a little harder, picking up the pace a little to bring things back into more familiar territory. Jungkook didn’t stop you, instead welcoming the way you kissed him more passionately. You normally never took the time to just make out like this, always quick to get to the main event. But Jungkook was a really good kisser. He let you take the lead, allowing your tongue to eagerly explore his mouth. He was always so skilled and receptive.

You grew hot pretty quickly and you could imagine Jungkook was the same way as one hand flew to your waist and the one that rested on your cheek pulled you even closer. It gave you an idea. As much as you didn’t want to, you finally pulled away.

“Jungkook…” you said, your breath labored. 

Jungkook hated each second you spent apart and pressed light kisses across your cheek. “Mhmmm…” he practically moaned into your skin. 

You had to resist just completely melting in his grasp.

“I can’t help with your nerves directly, but maybe there’s something I can do to better take your mind off things if you’ll let me,” you mentioned in between the kisses he kept planting on your cheek and lips. At this, Jungkook finally pulled away, seemingly interested.

You let the silence pass for a little while.

“Orgasms always helped me de-stress,” you smiled shyly at him, maybe a little too innocently considering what you had just proposed. You saw the way he steadily processed your words in his mind.

“Maybe.” He was beating himself up for somehow finding himself here with you once again, but you always did relax him. “I didn’t bring a condom though. I didn’t—” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think we have enough time to go all the way anyway.” You glanced at your watch and once it lit up you saw that there were only twenty minutes before the meeting was about to start.

Jungkook looked up at you, worry painted all over his features again. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you reassured, placing your hand against his cheek. 

Jungkook seemed dazed as he stared into your eyes, before he quickly nodded his head. You smiled and shakily got up to your feet.

“Stand up,” you lightly commanded, not really wanting to suck him off on the floor. He did as you asked and before anything more could be said, you moved him toward the side of the wall so he wouldn’t bang against the door. With something a little more solid behind him now, you finally took the opportunity to pin him against the wall. 

Your height difference wasn’t much when you had your heels on, but even then, he was still a little taller than you. You doubted you looked that intimidating, but you nearly giggled when you saw the look on his face as you stepped closer. 

You made quick work of sliding your hand onto his waist and settling the other on his cheek. You smiled before planting light kisses across his warm skin and eventually guided yourself up to his meet ear. You brushed away his hair and being this close it only then dawned on you that Jungkook had not one, but two sets of shiny hoops in his ears that you had never really noticed before. 

“I promise to make this quick,” you whispered softly before planting a kiss right on his ear.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moaned as he quickly pulled you back to meet his lips. The position was hot, and you weren’t the only one who thought so. He’d never been pinned like this before and he certainly couldn’t say he hated it. No, if anything—

“F-fuck!” he panted as you moved down to suck on his neck. You were always careful about not leaving any marks. Jungkook was clumsy sometimes, but you knew the right balance of giving pleasure without going too far. It had Jungkook mewling as he embarrassingly started grinding into you slightly. He was subtle, but the friction combined with your mouth was enough to get him hard in no time.

The minute you noticed him chasing his hips into yours was when you figured it was time to move on to the next stage.

You kissed his lips one more time before dropping down to your knees. First, you checked the time again— fifteen more minutes. You really needed to be fast.

His belt and zipper came undone in a flash. Since he was standing this time, you tried to pull his pants down to make it a little easier for you to work, but Jungkook stopped you and mumbled something about it being quicker like this. 

Even if you were trying to be conscious of the time, you didn’t think it would take that long to pull his pants up when you were done. But that’s what he wanted and there really wasn’t any time to question him on it. Instead, you finally took him out. You were drooling at how pretty the outline was even in the darkness and how it felt in your hand.

“Y/n…” Jungkook whined as you stared. Right, it was not a good time.

You slowly began pumping his length. You made sure to be extra attentive in your movements, steadily increasing your pace, and focusing on the tip since you knew how sensitive he was.

Your eyes also were trained on his expression. It was hard to see exactly, but you noticed the way he leaned his head back and the tight grip he had on the shelf that sat beside you both. He was trying so hard to be quiet, you could tell by the soft whines that would sometimes manage to slip out of his mouth. He really was so pretty. What you would have given for more time to tease him further. 

You finally took him into your mouth, apparently a little unexpectedly by the way he nearly jumped out of skin. You hated to admit it was kinda cute. 

Jungkook’s hand quickly moved from the shelf to rest on top of your head. He was careful to not hurt you as his fingers lightly threaded into your hair. He tried his best to keep steady, but his legs shook with each swipe of your tongue. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was overwhelming in the best way possible. Just the view alone of you on your knees for him… god.

Occasionally, you would look up at him and tease the tip between your lips. Sometimes Jungkook would try to watch as you took down as much as you could, but the sight was so good that he would need to quickly look away, flushed, knowing that the end would come all too quickly if he kept watching. 

Before long, Jungkook was close and had to put his other hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out. Somehow, he was still able to warn you of his impending release.

This prompted you to speed things up a little, knowing by now that time was probably not on your side. It didn’t take much more work before Jungkook was suddenly spilling into your mouth. His moans were muffled, but you watched in delight as you saw the tension leave all his features and his cum continued to paint your tongue. 

You wanted to stay there and let him bask in his post-orgasmic bliss, but you figured he probably needed to leave soon to go set up for the meeting. You stood up and from the new angle you could see how relaxed he was; his eyes were closed while he leaned against the wall, his breath steady unlike when you first walked in. You really didn’t want to ruin this serene moment.

“Hope that helped a little bit, but it’s probably best not to sit here too much longer,” you mentioned after some time had passed.

Jungkook hummed and his eyes fluttered open to look at you before staring off into the distance. “I really don’t want to do this,” he sighed.

“I know it sucks, but once it’s over, it’s over. Do you have any other presentations coming up?” you asked, and Jungkook eventually nodded. 

“One more right before the holidays start. It’s mainly to the higher-up executives, giving them a formal look into our plans for next quarter and the next year as well. Not as many people are going to be there as today, but it’s a little more important,” Jungkook groaned, running his fingers through his hair.

“We'll take it one day at a time. At least this one will be over shortly, and you can look back and—” but before you could finish, you felt a hand on your wrist and then suddenly you were pulled into something warm.

It took you a second to realize it was a hug. Your cheeks burned and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat at the way Jungkook nuzzled into your shoulder. He was so warm that you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace.

“Thank you… thank you for being here,” he sighed, and then all of a sudden you felt tingly everywhere. “Without you, I’m almost sure I would have had a breakdown right outside the meeting room, so thank you for just being here and… for helping out.” Your relationship was complicated for sure, but you weren’t the type of person to leave someone when they were clearly struggling. You may not exactly like Jungkook, but you didn’t hate him either. Sometimes, in moments like this, all he really needed was a helping hand.

“It was no trouble at all,” you tried to laugh, but it was hard keeping your voice steady when your heart was nearly beating out of your chest.

You stayed just like that for a second, wishing that you didn’t leave so soon.

“I guess I should go now. I still need to get my laptop from my office,” Jungkook sighed, and you quickly pulled away, remembering the time.

“Alright, you can head out first. I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you smiled at him, but right then you suddenly remembered something. You reached over to where the light switch was and quickly turned on the lights. You both cried out, then laughed at the sudden brightness in the room, but you tried your best to ignore it and do what you had wanted.

Suddenly, you were very close and your hands were back in his hair as you tried to fix the disheveled strands a little after his fingers had been running through it too many times. Once he realized what you were doing, he relaxed, and Jungkook’s gaze steadily fell to your lips. The pretty color that had stained them earlier was now smeared from your activities and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. 

His hands came up to rest on your waist, but you paid no mind as you worked. The position made him realize just how much he didn’t want to leave you. You always needed to be quick whenever you met up here, but today you had no time whatsoever to spare. It really sucked.

Jungkook tried his best to ignore how much he wanted to kiss you again.

“Alright. I couldn’t help much, but I was able to get things relatively in the right spot. You look great and I’m sure you’ll do fine.” 

It was then that you realized Jungkook’s gaze had drifted down towards your lips. With the lights on, you were able to see things clearly, his pretty lashes and all the cute moles on his face. He really was breathtaking. You were tempted to kiss him again, one last token of good luck before his presentation, but something about that felt… it felt like it wasn’t your place to do that. Instead, you smiled at him before pulling away again.

“How about this… if you have some time later, maybe I’ll give you a reward for finishing your presentation,” you mentioned as you watched Jungkook zip up his pants and redo his belt. 

Jungkook smiled at the thought. The presentation was the main thing he had to do today, but he also had a few documents he knew he needed to look through. He would possibly have time a little later to potentially sneak off with you again. Plus, by that time, no one would really even be around to notice he was gone.

“Secretary Yu is leaving early today, it wouldn’t be too hard to sneak off later, but I’ll let you know.” He was certainly planning on it. After the presentation, he knew he would need something to wash away the nerves again.

You nodded at that. “Alright… Make sure to take deep breaths, and if things become too much, just look at me and pretend everyone else isn’t in the room.” You had heard that tip somewhere and figured it would be a good last-minute suggestion.

Jungkook looked up at you again. “Thank you…” he smiled once again, still unable to believe you were even there. Why would anyone care for him like this?

“Again, no trouble at all. I’ll fix myself up, then I’ll be heading to the meeting room.” You could only imagine what your makeup looked like right now.

Jungkook smiled. “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“See you then~” you waved as Jungkook hurried out the door.

…

The presentation didn’t go perfectly. It never could have, considering all the anxiety he was dealing with these days, but he’s sure that without your help, it would have probably been a complete disaster. He hit all the talking points that he wanted to, even if he was a little shaky, but hopefully it hadn’t been too obvious.

You were a big help, and just your presence in the meeting made things a little easier as he tried the trick you suggested and fixated on you a couple of times to maintain his cool. 

It went better than expected, and that was enough for him at the moment. As everyone started leaving the meeting room, it was good to feel the relief of it all being over. But now that things were done, all Jungkook could think about as he made his way back to his office was when he could meet up with you again.

•────•──────────•────•

Ever since the day Jungkook had left Yoongi’s office after breaking down in front of him about the affair, they had been texting off and on. It wasn’t much, mostly just Yoongi occasionally asking Jungkook if he was doing alright or if he had yet made an appointment with Dr. Kim yet. He had not.

Earlier today, the doctor randomly texted him to ask if he would like to meet up and have dinner since he apparently didn’t have any late night appointments that day. Jungkook wasn’t normally the type to say yes to something like that, not really enjoying other people’s company these days, but despite not technically being his therapist anymore, Dr. Min was still a professional and he knew he probably needed to talk to someone.

That was how Jungkook found himself leaving work a little earlier than he normally would and cruising down the streets of Seoul with Dae-Jung. A lot of people had already begun putting up decorations for the approaching holidays. Pretty lights twinkled in people’s windows and they came across frequent sightings of late night workers beginning to decorate small Christmas trees. 

Yoongi hadn’t texted him an exact address, instead giving him the details of the place across the street from where they were meant to meet. At first, Jungkook was a little confused by it, until they made it onto the road and he saw the pojangmacha (tent bar) at the end of the street. It wasn’t long before he saw Yoongi right outside. Jungkook hopped out of the car into the freezing cold, telling Dae-Jung he’d text him when to pick him up, and made his way over to Yoongi.

They both greeted one another, exchanging slightly awkward hellos before walking in together. It had been quite some time since Jungkook had been to a pojangmacha— maybe since college? It was nice. The cozy warmth from the heaters and the grill easily cut through the chill November air, providing a little oasis for the people coming in. Lucky for them, a table was already available so they were quickly able to get a seat. As soon as they sat down, Jungkook realized he’d forgotten to eat again today and his stomach growled as they both looked over the menu. 

The minute his eyes landed on Korean dumplings, he nearly started drooling as memories of them invaded his senses. He could practically taste them on his tongue. Jungkook eagerly pointed to them on the menu and then Yoongi ordered for the both of them, getting Korean dumplings for himself as well along with two sojus to go with their meal.

“I saw this place on my way to work today. They’ve come to this area before and they always have really good food,” Yoongi mentioned with a smile.

“I’m excited to try it. It smells really good here. I forgot to eat all day, so I’m starving!” Jungkook tried to laugh as he looked longingly at the food of the other customers. Hopefully their food would be served quickly…

Yoongi, however, was focused on something else. “Good food wasn’t the only reason I brought you here though. It’s been a little while since we’ve seen each other and I just wanted to check in on how you were doing. Have you managed to speak with Nam— Dr. Kim yet?” Yoongi asked, as a lady came over with their bottles of soju and some shot glasses. 

Jungkook steadily shook his head. “I’ve been really busy at work. I was just going to try and schedule an appointment after New Year’s when I’ll be a little more free again.” Like a proper dongsaeng should, Jungkook was already opening Yoongi’s bottle and pouring it for him. Yoongi tried to do the same for Jungkook, but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

“I see… Things are usually hectic during the holidays. I’m still a little worried, considering how you were doing the last time you came to my office, but I understand. How are things going with that by the way?”

Jungkook took his first shot. It was bitter today, of course. 

“With what?” Jungkook had to clear his throat as the clear liquid burned going down his throat. 

“The affair. Did you ever manage to tell Yuri about it?” Yoongi took his own first shot. He didn’t mean to be so blunt, but there was no use beating around the bush.

Jungkook stared at the doctor for a second before he hurriedly filled his shot glass once again, the clear liquid quickly rising to the top and nearly brimming in the process. He downed his next shot speedily and finished it with ease before finally managing to shake his head no. He still hadn’t told Yuri about what happened that day… and all that happened afterward. Frankly, he didn’t really want to.

Silence passed for a little while as Yoongi continued to stare at Jungkook. 

“Are you still seeing the coworker?” Yoongi eventually asked.

At this, Jungkook hastily went for his third shot. 

“Woah… no need to rush—” Yoongi mumbled in an attempt to tell him to slow down, but Jungkook shooed him away as he easily downed his third. As soon as he set the glass back on the table, Jungkook’s hands were threaded into his hair again, his grip tighter than ever. Eventually, he nodded. 

“Jungkook, look at me.” Yoongi softly commanded. Jungkook put his hands down and Yoongi was able to see that his eyes had grown a little watery. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I tried to push her away, or maybe I didn’t. I probably didn’t try hard enough.” Something about confessing out loud that things were still happening between you two made the reality sink in even more. How horrible was he?

“She was the one who tried to tell me it was a bad idea to continue, but I practically begged her to be with me again.” Just the thought of it was sickening. Pathetic. What would Yuri say if she saw this? 

“I tried to focus on Yuri, she’s my wife for fuck’s sake. But she keeps pushing me away, and now… I just feel like I’m digging myself into an even deeper hole than I was in in the first place,” Jungkook's voice wavered. He didn’t know what was worse at this point— betraying Yuri’s trust over and over again, or the fact that he was enjoying his time with you so much. 

Yoongi stared at Jungkook for a little while before he went for his second shot. Jungkook tried to pour it for him, but Yoongi shooed him away. He downed the shot easily before rising to his feet.

“Follow me,” Yoongi said as he started putting his coat back on. Jungkook was confused, but quickly rose to his feet and put on his coat as well. 

“We’ll be standing just right outside, could you call us in when our food is ready?” Yoongi asked the ajumma who was working hard behind the grill.

“Did you get that?” she called out to the younger woman who was sitting behind her scrolling on her phone. She had been the one who served them their drinks. Jungkook assumed she might be the older woman’s daughter. They had the same face, time being the only differential. The young lady nodded and with that, Yoongi pulled Jungkook out of the tent into the cold and over to a bench that sat in front of a big art sculpture that wasn’t too far from them.

Yoongi sighed, a foggy puff of air slipping past his lips, proving just how cold it was to anyone standing outside in this unfortunate weather. Jungkook was about to ask what was going on when Yoongi started rummaging around in his pockets, pulling out a box in one hand and something shiny in the other. It took him a second to realize it was a box of cigarettes and a bright purple lighter. 

Yoongi smiled as he held up the lighter. “My daughter’s name is Bora. I got this color because of her, but funnily enough, I don’t really use it much anymore,” he laughed.

It took Jungkook a second to realize that he had never really considered that the doctor… had a life? He felt guilty for not asking Yoongi about himself, but of course the couples therapist has a whole life and a daughter. Jungkook also imagined he was married as well. Oddly enough, Yoongi had started to take on the role of a big brother in Jungkook’s eyes, but it still shocked him a little. Sometimes he seemed years ahead of him in life experience, but other times he really didn’t feel any different in age. Yoongi didn’t even look that much older than Jungkook was, making it harder to remember there was a bit of an age gap— seven years to be exact. 

As Jungkook was lost in thought, he completely missed when Yoongi opened the box, took out a cigarette, put it between his lips, and handed the box over to Jungkook.

“Only if you want to,” Yoongi mentioned, as he tried his best to light it. It took a couple of tries, but eventually the end managed to catch.

Jungkook didn’t really think too much about it as he took one before handing the box back over to Yoongi and exchanging it for the lighter.

He didn’t really smoke, at least not anymore. College Jungkook, however, was a very different Jungkook. It wouldn’t have been an unusual sight to walk into his apartment and see him on the balcony with his feet kicked up and a cigarette between his lips, strumming along on his guitar to his favorite songs as he procrastinated doing homework. He never stopped for any reason in particular, it was just one of those habits that never stuck, and especially once he started his new life as a married man, he never really went back to it.

That didn’t stop him this time, though. Jungkook took the bright purple lighter and easily lit the cigarette. He took a long inhale before steadily blowing out the smoke, all while Yoongi observed him closely. Jungkook wasn’t prepared to hear the man chuckle beside him. 

“Guess you weren’t lying then…,” he giggled to himself, taking another puff. 

“You thought I was?” Jungkook asked, a little confused why he would think that.

Yoongi just shrugged, not really having an answer. 

“Anyway, I brought you out here to talk about how you’re doing. We’re not in my office anymore, so be as unfiltered as you’d like. Tell me anything you’re comfortable with sharing— about Yuri, the affair, yourself…” Yoongi looked over at him.

The proposition made Jungkook’s eyes glisten and he hoped Yoongi would just think it was because of the cold. He quickly took another hit of the cigarette. Silence passed for a while, just the sounds of a few passersby and the wind steadily blowing as it made the night even colder.

“I don’t feel good,” Jungkook laid out plainly, not really having the energy to put up a front for the doctor and pretend things were fine. They weren’t— he needed help, he knew that. “I don’t really feel anything anymore,” Jungkook added a little more quietly.

“Anything?” Yoongi repeated, and Jungkook nodded.

“Every day is a fucking nightmare. It hurts just to get out of bed each day and go to work. It hurts to see Yuri. Our marriage is getting worse every single day and I still don’t feel guilty about what I did to her— what I keep doing to her for some reason. The only time I feel anything anymore is when I’m with Y/n…” His eyes were watering so much now, it was hard to pretend it was still just the cold.

“Is Y/n your coworker?” Yoongi asked, and Jungkook nodded once again. “What does she make you feel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It just feels good when we’re together. For a moment, I feel something again. For a second, my life isn’t shit and my problems disappear. Maybe that’s why I keep going back to her for more.”

Yoongi wanted to comment on that, but ultimately chose to stay quiet. He didn’t want to label anything prematurely, but as a couples therapist and a married man, what Jungkook described didn’t sound unfamiliar. 

“But even when I do, I still treat her like shit, just like I do with Yuri. I can’t do anything right,” Jungkook laughed as he wiped his eyes and took another puff from his cigarette.

“And what makes you say that?” Yoongi inquired further.

“I keep giving her more work when we’re already really busy as it is. We argue pretty much every time we’re alone together. She doesn’t deserve it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Jungkook was crying just thinking about how you were probably still at the office working because of him.

“I just feel so hopeless every day, every fucking day and I just want it to end.” Jungkook sobbed, using his coat sleeve to wipe his eyes.

“Before, I held onto this glimmer of hope that one day I’d get my shit together and finally understand how to make Yuri happy, how to love her, how to at least get her to a place where she’d try and work things out with me.” Just an attempt, that was all he needed. “But now I feel like I fucked things up beyond repair, I’ve fucked everything up so badly— nothing will ever get better and I’m just so tired.”

Yoongi didn’t want to interrupt but this was beyond heartbreaking to listen to and watch as the tears started streaming down his cheeks.

“And I’m so ashamed— Y/n— I think I’m just running off of what she gives me at this point, it’s the only time anything feels like something anymore— I want things to be ok, but I just keep messing everything up— I’m so tired, I feel like giving up at this point.” It was vague, but Yoongi was paying close attention to his wording and his heart sank hearing the words ‘give up.’ He honestly thought the worst.

“It’s just gray no matter where I look and I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this, hyung. I just want it to end.” Jungkook sighed.

It might have been a slip of the tongue, maybe it was the alcohol flowing through his system, but the endearing honorific, one Jungkook didn’t seem to notice in the moment, was easily heard by Yoongi.

At this, Yoongi finally had to say something. “Jungkook, I'm really, really worried about you. I know I’m a couples therapist so this isn’t exactly my specialty, but the way you speak about your depression is concerning. The sentiments you’re describing are treading into dangerous territories that I’m honestly a little worried about leaving you alone.” The label wasn’t really a surprise. Jungkook had figured he’d veered into depression land a long time ago.

“Do you think you can hold out till the New Year’s when you’ll be able to meet Dr. Kim?” Yoongi asked seriously. 

Jungkook nodded, wanting to believe he could. He hated to say he wasn’t confident in his affirmation.

“Things were bad before, but it was very recently where I don’t know… like I didn’t feel good for years if I’m being honest, but it I felt like I was on a hill and then all of a sudden I reached a cliff. I’m trying hard to climb out, or at least find the other side, but it just keeps getting lower and lower and now I’m stuck— the end’s nowhere in sight and—” Jungkook could ramble for hours about this. It truly felt there would be no end to this madness. He was tired, tired of going on and on and on with the same bullshit…

He was making people suffer, his wife, his employees, his friends, you, the list goes on. 

“I know things might feel hopeless now, but trust when I say there is an end somewhere. Just hang in there a little longer, Jungkook,” this conversation had grown very serious. They both were dancing around the actual topic at hand, but they certainly knew what was being discussed. 

They both sat in silence for a little while, letting it speak louder than words could in the moment, steadily smoking away their woes. Jungkook’s soft cries gradually grew quieter.

“Jungkook… I don’t really know the type of people you have in your life, but like I mentioned the last time you were at the office, I really recommend leaning on whatever support system you have. Friends, family, and I want you to know I’ll always be here if you need someone to rant to. If things ever feel like they’re getting too much, you can always call or stop by the office with a little heads up. You’re not alone and I don’t want you to feel that way.” Yoongi added after a particularly long puff from his cigarette.

The sentiment was nice and even though Jungkook was a mess right now, he still appreciated it. It was enough that for a moment it pushed away that terrible thought of him not being worthy of help anymore— for a second he wanted to believe somehow everything would work out as it should. It’ll be a tough battle and if worse comes to worse, at least maybe Yoongi will be there to lean on.

“Thank you…” Jungkook’s voice was soft as he spoke.

It was only a moment though, and bringing up all these emotions he tried his best to keep at bay made his head feel like a mess. It was so much, too much, and he really was so tired at this point. His eyes grew watery all over again, but his cheeks burned as he realized they were in fact in public. He could only imagine what the people passing by would think of him…

“But it still hurts, it hurts so much.” Jungkook was trying his hardest to keep the tears at bay. Yoongi was probably tired of all the crying, but they just kept rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to li—”

“Boys!” A sudden voice called out.

Yoongi and Jungkook looked back over to the tent and saw the lady who was sitting on the stool earlier had her head poking out. 

“Your food’s ready!” She added once she saw that she got their attention. Yoongi flashed her a quick thumbs up and she sent one back before heading inside. 

“What were you saying?” Yoongi tried to steer things back on topic, but Jungkook shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter—” He said, still wiping the tears off his face. “I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving.” He was quick at getting up and heading over to the trash can to put out his cigarette and throw it away.

Yoongi wanted to stop him, but just decided they could discuss things a little more as they ate. Maybe things would go better with some food in their systems, especially for Jungkook. 

Yoongi caught up to him. “By the way, I don’t mind you calling me hyung.” He mentioned with a smile. Suddenly Jungkook looked even more embarrassed. 

“You said it earlier and I didn’t mind. I’m not your therapist anymore, no need to keep the formalities. Making things casual seems like the way to go.” He smiled.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I—” But Yoongi shushed him.

“No apologies, it’s fine. Let me hear you say it~” He slightly teased. 

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed. “Hyung? Yoongi hyung?” Jungkook tested how it sounded and they both chuckled.

“Sounds right to me. Now let’s go eat.” They hurriedly rushed back inside to the warmth and were greeted with the mouthwatering sight of the dumplings sitting on their table. Yoongi ordered two more bottles of soju, and once they got their coats off they immediately grabbed their chopsticks and started to dig in.

The place was fantastic— Yoongi was one hundred percent right and Jungkook wished this place would stay here so he could visit more often. He made sure to tell Yoongi hyung that when the place was back in this area to let him know so they could eat here again together. 

Now things were in much better spirits considering the difficult conversation they just had outside. Jungkook even asked for more food after he managed to finish so quickly. Nonetheless, something Yoongi tried not to bring up at first was how awfully fast Jungkook was drinking. He easily downed shot after shot, and the bottles quickly came and went over at his side of the table.

“Are you trying to get drunk or something?” Yoongi eventually asked. Even he had lost count of what bottle he was on. Yoongi was still on his third. He had made the decision to just leave his car and take a taxi to work or something in the morning once Jungkook agreed to meet up, but he still wasn’t trying to get hammered. He had a seven-month-old at home he still needed to take care of when he got back. Buzzed, maybe even a little tipsy was the most he was going for tonight. Jungkook though seemed to have different plans.

“I’m fine…” Jungkook sighed as he downed another shot. 

Yoongi didn’t want to refute it, this was their first time drinking together, so it’s not like they knew each other’s limits. But he should have trusted the very fact he had eyes and knew that he was drinking way beyond just getting buzzed or even tipsy. 

Jungkook could hardly keep his eyes open by the time they were leaving. Yoongi had to be the one to put his coat on, and he practically had to carry him outside back over to the bench they were sitting at earlier. It was also Yoongi who texted Dae-Jung to come pick him up after Jungkook mumbled something about texting him when he asked if he had any plans on getting home.  

Dae-Jung was here not too long after, but by then Jungkook was pretty much passed out on the bench. He seemed to notice Jungkook was incapacitated and came jogging out of the car over to the two of them. He didn’t look much older than Jungkook— he had sharp eyes and a short haircut that Yoongi thought only added more to the “professional image” of an employee to the CEO’s son. He was also wearing a suit with a white turtleneck underneath.

“What happened?” Dae-Jung asked concerningly.  

“He had way too many. I should have stopped him, I’m sorry.” Yoongi said remorsefully.

“You’re fine… this was his choice and unfortunately this happens too many times these days. Thank you so much for looking after him.” Dae-Jung sighed before heading over to pick Jungkook up. 

Yoongi was just going to bid them both farewell, but Jungkook must have woken up a little because as they passed by, Jungkook grabbed onto Yoongi’s sleeve. 

“We— we should take him home.” Jungkook slurred lazily to Dae-Jung as he weakly pointed at Yoongi. Yoongi and Dae-Jung both looked at each other before back at Jungkook.

“You really don’t—”

“I don’t mind, unless you planned on driving back.” Dae-Jung huffed, as he repositioned Jungkook on his shoulder so he wouldn’t fall over.  

Yoongi shook his head.

“Hop in then.” And that’s how Yoongi ended up riding home with them. Jungkook passed out again as soon as they managed to get him in the car. Jungkook’s head rested against the window and his light snores were more than amusing in Yoongi’s buzzed state. 

Luckily, Yoongi didn’t live too far away, and it felt like in no time they were pulling up right outside Yoongi’s apartment building. 

Yoongi thanked Dae-Jung and said goodbye to Jungkook even though he was completely gone. 

Dae-Jung took charge from that point forward. Jungkook and Yuri lived a little further away, fortunately it was late and there wasn’t much traffic, so they managed to make it within thirty minutes. Dae-Jung helped Jungkook out of the car as they stumbled their way up to the apartment. With his aid, Jungkook was able to take off his coat and suit jacket, before they stumbled toward the other bedroom— Jungkook always preferred staying there when he was this drunk.

Yuri hadn’t been there to urge him to stay in their own room anyway. He doubted she would have.

Jungkook was out once again, sleeping far past his alarm, and unsurprisingly he was late to work the next day. He was a mess, his head hurt with every move he made, and all he could think about was how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. He’d messed up everything in his life, and there was no way out at this point. 

Every day was a waking nightmare, and he just wanted it to end.

•────•──────────•────•

You both were normally so careful when it came to sneaking off to the storage room. You would always wait a few minutes in between before heading inside, and you even had to do the special knock in order to verify it was each other. This time though, you were in a rush. 

Jungkook wasn’t too far ahead of you as you walked swiftly behind him, making sure to keep enough distance between you both, but he wanted you to be quick. With how fast he was moving, you could hardly keep up by the time he was turning the corner to the hallway where the storage room was. You waited a few seconds, then as inconspicuously as you could, you made your way down the same hallway. You didn’t even manage to get the full knock in when the door swung open, and you felt a hand grab your wrist to hastily pull you inside.

Before you even realized, your back was suddenly up against the wall and you were staring right into Jungkook’s eyes. He was close, his hands were right by your sides against the wall. You watched his eyes drift down and scan over your form before they returned to meet your own once again. Even in the dark, his pained expression was obvious.

Jungkook couldn’t stand another moment apart from you so he moved his hands to rest on your waist as he pulled you close to finally meet your lips. You could instantly taste the beer on his tongue as things quickly grew more intense. 

That was new. Is that what this was?

You really had no idea how things had moved so fast. You were leading a meeting only a few minutes prior; a rare one Jungkook needed to attend. He’d been making eyes at you as he sat at the head of the table, and while a part of you couldn’t lie it made you a little hot, this was a meeting; a meeting with a lot of other people around. Maybe the beer was the missing piece to this puzzle, it explained why he was so shamelessly eyeing you in front of everyone. It’s a bit strange though— it was only the afternoon, why was he drinking that early?

As soon as the meeting finished, Jungkook stayed behind and just as you were picking up your laptop to leave, Jungkook stopped you in your tracks. 

“Wait!” His bright, round eyes stared up at you, pleading almost with his gaze.

You quickly looked around. It’s not like this meeting room really had walls; the ones that faced the office were made up of thick panes of glass organized in a horizontally striped pattern, alternating between clear and frosted glass. The parts that were frosted were larger, but anyone who looked hard enough in between could see you both. You had no idea what he wanted, but you were a little worried.

“Yes?” You clutched your laptop tight to your chest.

Jungkook’s eyes trailed down his lap before he looked back up at you. “Would you have time to go to the storage room quickly?” His voice was soft, but he seemed desperate.

You looked at him a little confused. Usually there would be some type of heads up. “Right now?” 

“It’s ummm… it’s an emergency…” His eyes glanced down again before looking back at you. 

And that’s how you learned Jungkook should be forced to wear sunglasses all the time because why, why did all it take was him looking at you like that to make you so easily agree? You thought you were stronger than that, but apparently you were a lot easier than you wanted to admit since that was all you needed to give into his pleas. Your legs practically acted all on their own as you speedily ran back to your office to put your laptop back before you somehow caught up to Jungkook making his way to the storage room.

In short, that’s how you ended up here.  

His hands eagerly raked up your sides, tugging at your blouse and skirt as they sensually traversed along the fabric. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he practically stuffed his tongue down your throat before you could even process the situation you were in. His kisses were full of more and more desperation and wanting each time his lips met your own. You were never going to get used to how passionately he’d kiss you. It hastily took your breath away, and the heat you felt from the meeting earlier exploded into an even greater fury the longer you were in his arms.

Jungkook suddenly hiked your leg up to his waist, and at this angle you could feel the very reason why he was moving so fast. 

“Wh-what’s got you so worked up?” You moaned lightly, your body on fire from the tingles that surged through you. 

“You.” Jungkook hurried out in between kisses. “Your existence,” a callback to a running problem in your relationship, this time spun a little more sweetly. The stark answer made your cheeks burn in a way you weren’t prepared for. You tried to brush it off with a smile. 

“I’m serious… something’s up with you today.” Something was clearly up— Jungkook’s kisses trailed off your cheek and down your neck where he lightly sucked across your skin. You definitely knew he wasn’t being careful about not leaving any marks.

Jungkook wasn’t really in a talking mood, much preferring to enjoy your whines as his mouth worked on your neck and eager his hips met your own. You always made such pretty sounds. Then when your hands moved to thread in his hair, now he really wasn’t in a talking mood. He couldn’t help but think this wasn’t going fast enough.

“Jungkook?” You questioned the longer the silence went on, gripping his hair tight to get his attention, making him moan into your skin.

Oh.

“Your meeting was hot.” He groaned just thinking back to it, adding to the fact that he really liked it when you played with his hair.

You laughed at that. “And what about spreadsheets, pie charts, and Excel made you this hot and bothered?” It was a funny thought. You were somewhat joking, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure what he was into. Maybe that was actually his thing. 

You weren’t expecting the soft, but noticeable bite on the nape of your neck. It didn’t hurt, and you could practically feel his smile across your skin. You yelped slightly at the sensation.

“It’s not that—” Jungkook ground into you a little harder and you could easily feel him right where you wanted. “You feel that? This is your fault.” Jungkook’s voice was a little shaky and his words slurred together from how much he was pushing into you.

You couldn’t stop the moan falling from your lips at his words. This was new. Jungkook was normally so shy, he never was this blunt and you weren’t prepared at all for this new side. What was going on?

It was probably the beer. That was the only explanation. 

“I kept— kept thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you on the meeting table.” Jungkook groaned into your skin. It was a dirty thought, one that made his cheeks burn because he was in public and he was supposed to be focusing on your words. He could hardly pay attention as his mind bounced back and forth between admiring your presentation skills to thinking about what it’d be like to take you right there on the table in front of everyone.

At this point, you feared he was drunk. This was completely unlike him.

You tried to ignore how on fire your cheeks were. “Does that mean you didn’t pay attention to anything I said?”

“If I say yes will you do the whole thing again, just the two of us?” He was normally never this bold. He was already making work of getting your shirt loose, managing to get a few buttons undone with his shaky hands, enough to see your black bra come into view. Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off you and wished so much he could see you a little better. He kissed your neck and steadily made his way down your chest.

“Oh— wha—” He could probably sense you were about to say something, so instead of letting you continue the banter, he moved back up to kiss you.

It was brief but enough to quickly take your breath away before he pulled away and buried himself in your shoulder.

“Y/n— I don’t, fuck, I don’t think I can wait— could you take me now?” Jungkook would never normally ask this. Yuri would be so disappointed if she knew he did. He always liked to take care of you in some shape or form before he did anything to you, but today… today…

And you could feel his impatience. No wonder he called it an emergency in the meeting room. And if that wasn’t enough, clearly something must be in the air today because Jungkook was showing you a completely new side to him.

“I’m really sorry— I can try and do more if you need it, I just—”

“Jungkook, please just fuck me.” This little talk was honestly all you needed to get going.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Jungkook was already kissing you once again as he tried his best to guide you both to the table. It took a bit of work, Jungkook was more than distracted, but eventually he could feel the plastic surface behind you. He wasted no time flipping you over so your hands were planted on the table and your ass was pressed right where he needed you. 

“I’ll try and make this quick.” But that wouldn’t be too much of a challenge. He needed you and today things were even worse than usual. 

You nodded as you heard the swift sounds of his belt coming undone. He normally was uncoordinated, the need always clouding his senses making even the simplest tasks seem impossible, but today it was even worse. The alcohol surely didn’t help in his struggle.

You could hear him growing frustrated as he wrangled with his belt while lightly grinding into you. He was subtle, but his cute whines were still evident.

“Cmon, please, please, please—” He cried. His eyes were a little watery. Yes, it was this serious for him, he was so close to feeling you, but once again the hurdle of the belt and pants got in the way.

Eventually, things were finally going his way. The belt came undone, his pants unzipped, and finally he was free to feel you. Jungkook was on you in a haste, his hands working fast at pulling up your skirt— even in the dark the view nearly made him lose it; from your thigh highs coming up your legs to your black panties, and the position you were in… Fuck, the arch in your back made you look so ready for him. He was so weak.  

Jungkook quickly tangled himself around you. While one hand was on your waist to keep you steady, his other hand was in your panties before you knew it; his fingers were eagerly running through your slit.

“Shit!” You gasped, already failing at keeping yourself quiet.

Jungkook was more than surprised to find you were already wet.

“Fuck—” He groaned, as he buried his head in your shoulder, growing more desperate by the second, already imagining what it would be like to be inside you. 

“I’ll be quick— I’m sorry…” He sighed as he started lining up behind you, rubbing himself along the dampness of your panties. Only then did he remember something he had completely forgotten till now. 

“Jungkook, please—”

His eyes quickly grew teary realizing how bad this was. “Wait— wait, I don’t have a condom.” He quietly cried. 

This got you to pause. “Wait, what?”

“I forgot to buy more…” He didn’t have any left whatsoever. Not even a brief, awkward pause to run back to his office would save him. The last time you were together was when you both made it through the last of the box he bought a few weeks ago. Jungkook had made the note to get more after work, but Yuri had texted him that day saying she was home and he completely forgot about anything else.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Jungkook continued to lightly rub his achy cock along the damp fabric between your thighs. You were so wet. 

Shit.

He wasn’t thinking straight at all. You both really should be careful. He thought you two would never be in a situation like this again after he bought condoms, but he wasn’t used to buying them regularly; it wasn’t surprising how easily it slipped his mind. The smart thing to do in this situation would be handling both your needs in some other fashion than being inside you. There were a million ways to get off, it wasn’t the end of the world, but—

“Are you still—”

“Yes! We don’t need one if you’re fine with that.” You hurried out, not even needing him to finish the question. It was disappointing how that confirmation was all that he needed to keep going. No more questions, talking, banter, anything, he just had to feel you. 

Jungkook swiftly moved your panties to the side and shakily rubbed his length across your soaked folds. A choked moan fell from his lips at the sensation. He couldn’t take it anymore, the need grew too much to even attempt to tease you further. He hurriedly lined himself up and finally pushed his cock inside you. Jungkook was in such a rush, he was completely unprepared to be reminded how good you felt bare like this.

“Oh fu—” A few tears slipped from his eyes as he basked in your warmth, amazed at how tightly you were wrapped around him.

“Jungkook, oh my g—” You whined as his hand snaked back down into your panties and lightly started rubbing circles around your bud. He wanted to treat you well still, the guilt he felt rushing things was impossible to ignore. 

Jungkook nearly cried, savoring the way you tightened around him. It was grueling to try and keep still. He wanted to go slow for both your sakes, but mainly for you so you’d have that opportunity to get adjusted; he would hate to hurt you due to his own selfish desires.

“Please, Jungkook!” You cried, clamping hard onto the table. Tears had even started to prick your eyes.

“You think you can take me?” He groaned, even though you were practically squeezing him to give you more.

“What about ‘Jungkook, please fuck me’ is so hard to understand?” Your bratty tone was the last straw in snapping his reserve. He roughly pulled out and thrusted back into you, making you both moan out at the sensation. He didn’t mean to be so forceful, but—

“Quiet,” a simple one-word command that Jungkook practically growled into your ear. “You always talk too much.” He sighed as he began his steady pace of rocking into you, never once moving his hand away from your clit.

You nearly screamed at the sensation and quickly had to remind yourself that you were in a storage room at your job, and people weren’t that far away. You had to control yourself, but fucking Jungkook…

Instead of saying anything more, you obeyed like he wanted. It wasn’t like you necessarily wanted to, but as he started increasing his pace, you knew anything that would come out of your mouth at that point would only get you in trouble. 

It was almost mind-boggling that this was the same man you’ve argued, consoled, and talked with over the last month. What was going on?

You kept quiet trying your best to keep yourself under control as he pounded into you from the back. One hand on your waist, pulling you back to meet his hips, the other working tirelessly on bringing you closer and closer to the end. It felt good— more than good, but you didn’t want to admit that. You honestly hated thinking about how good the sex was with him sometimes.

It was only temporary, this would end someday, hopefully soon. This spelled disaster before anything had even happened yet, but deep down, you knew this path would only get more complicated the longer you both kept this going. 

This was bad news, this was bad news, this was bad new— But your warnings were being drowned out by the surge of pleasure running through your body by his hand and his cock that always managed to fill you so well.

Suddenly his pace slightly faltered and his grip on your waist grew tighter. “C-Close—” He fumbled out, trying to steady himself once more.

He knew going into this it wouldn’t last long. That meeting had worked him up in ways that he wasn’t prepared for, he couldn’t even pretend he was better than this. His daydreams were more vivid than anything he used to experience. They were memories. They were dangerous, powerful memories that he couldn’t run from even with his employees all around him. It was pathetic.

Now that he had you to himself, he couldn’t even fake composure. The scene was phenomenal, your skirt bunched up around your waist, your panties clumsily pushed to the side, your thigh-highs he wondered if were getting stained with your juices, and the way your ass would jiggle with each thrust he made. Jungkook could have cum just from his thoughts alone. You felt so fucking good around him, he couldn’t keep it together no matter how slow he tried to move. It was too much, and it wasn’t too long after that he felt himself starting to speed towards his release.

You both were prepared for things to end soon as they always do, but for the first time in the few weeks you both have been sneaking away to the meeting room, you heard footsteps. 

These weren’t the typical footsteps that you both would hear whenever someone would pass by this pretty destitute hallway, no, these footsteps were loud. Instead of just fading as they walked off, they only got louder and louder with each second that passed letting you both know that they simply weren’t going along through the outside hallway, they were getting closer. 

You both instantly froze the longer you realized what that meant. The possibilities quickly ran through your heads. Best case scenario, this was someone who simply took a wrong turn and would be going back pretty soon after they realized that the only thing down here was a storage room. Worst case scenario, the only other people who have access to the room— it was a janitor innocently coming over to get more supplies. 

There wouldn’t be enough time to try and cover yourselves to pretend like nothing perverse had been happening only moments prior. It would simply be the end and the beginning to the hell that would await you. 

Luckily, your question was answered before they even made it to the door and your mind wandered too far. It wasn’t one, but definitely multiple people who were laughing and joking with each other as they got closer.

“What’s down here, hyung?” A younger voice filled the hallway quite clearly. 

“I’ve never been down this hallway before.” Another voice said. 

They were newbies— new people who joined the office and were receiving an in-depth tour of the building by their senior. There should be no reason to panic anymore besides the minor inconvenience, but things were never that simple.

The minute Jungkook heard voices, his first instinct was to pull you close so you were flush against his chest. His hand went over your mouth to keep you quiet, shushing you right in your ear while he was still buried deep inside you. The position, maybe it was the situation, you weren’t exactly sure yourself, but apparently Jungkook hit a button you had that you didn’t know existed.

As the group grew closer you were trying your best to keep calm, but you found it extremely—

“Oh—” Jungkook quickly had to bury himself in your shoulder. You were tightening around him so much, so fucking much. 

“Ok, so what’s down here?” Another person in the group said. You were hardly paying attention anymore, but they were standing right outside the door. 

They were right outside, but no matter what, you just wouldn’t relax around him. Jungkook tried his best to control himself and take steady, deep breaths just until the group left. But they weren’t moving, for whatever reason, this little hallway they found was the best place to be a great hang out spot and get into some random conversation about who knows what. 

“Fuck…” Jungkook cried out as quietly as he could into your shoulder. He wasn’t strong enough at all to do this. You were squeezing him so much, and he had already been close, trying to keep still was—

His hips almost had a mind of their own as they steadily began to pump into your sopping heat. He tried his best to keep his movements small, not to make too much noise, but when he moved that only made it so much worse—

“Sto— please— Y/n!” He was forcing himself to whisper, but it almost felt like he was yelling in the moment. He had to keep calm, but you were making this difficult. Why was this happening?! And somehow, as if things couldn’t get any worse… None of you were listening to what the group outside were saying, not until the point where one distinct voice questioned— “Ok, so the only thing down here pretty much is this storage room?” 

“What do you think is in there?” Someone else said.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been in there before, but I can’t imagine it’s anything that interesting.”

“Let’s seem,” it was the one who sounded a little younger— curious, oh he was so fucking curious because who suggests that? But the distinct sound of the doorknob turning only made Jungkook that much more desperate, his thrusts growing far too hurried for someone who was trying to keep quiet.

Click- click- click— no matter what way they turned, the door wouldn’t open, but the adrenaline you both were running on was unlike anything else.

“Huh… guess it’s locked.”

“Yeah, look, you need to use your badge to get access.”

“We don’t have access?”

It sounded like someone tried, the familiar game-like failure buzz sounded and the sounds of disappointed sighs filled the hallway. 

But you both heard it, and it was a sound of relief as Jungkook felt like he was two seconds away from derailing. They had to leave soon— they had to leave soon— please—

“Anyway, time to move on to the other parts of the tour, no reason to get stuck here.” Someone sounded, probably the senior who was guiding everyone around. Then, the sounds of footsteps steadily grew quieter and quieter. 

Your muffled moans, as Jungkook instantly hurried his pace, grew louder and more desperate right along with Jungkook as his hand went faster and faster. You were so tight…

Their footsteps were still going down the hallway when Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore from spilling into your warmth. A muffled cry went into your shoulder as he hastily pumped you full of his cum. It felt like this giant wave crashed over him, it knocked him down and he couldn’t even think about getting back up. He was shaking, hushed cries and curses filling the room, because what the fuck just happened? 

But Jungkook was not in the mood to question it now. In his post-bliss haze, all he could focus on was getting you over the edge as well. Jungkook didn’t waste another second and picked his pace up once again on your clit. 

“Want to see you cum for me…” He lazily whispered in your ear, and all the while his hand was still over your mouth, so all you could respond with was your muffled cries into his hand. You really do talk too much sometimes. 

You had no idea where this was coming from, and your body didn’t either. You had tears in your eyes at how good he felt, and Jungkook could feel them running down onto his hand. 

It didn’t take much until that knot finally snapped and you finished hard around him. You tightened so much around his spent length that as Jungkook was fighting the overstimulation, somehow you were able to easily have him cumming into you again while he worked you both through it like the pathetic man he was.

It was intense, and out of the month this affair had been happening, you hadn't experienced anything like this. You don’t think you ever have. 

You both were rendered messes as slowly but surely you started to come back down. Jungkook nearly collapsed onto you. Your knees felt weak, but you could only imagine what he was feeling having cum so fast right after his first orgasm. 

For a little while, you just listened to your labored breaths. It was like the disastrous calm after a storm. The sun was out, but all that did was highlight the devastating damage left in its wake.

Jungkook was slouched over you, and as time passed your breathing grew more in sync. You honestly didn’t want to move. Something about this moment made your heart hammer painfully in your chest; you figured it was the adrenaline. But eventually, Jungkook found the strength to pull away from you and you hated how you already missed his warmth. To distract yourself, you made quick work at trying to get yourself as presentable as you could again— pulling your skirt down, buttoning up your blouse, smoothing down your hair, and you’d touch up your makeup a little later. 

Jungkook barely managed to get his pants back up and was leaning against the wall, looking more spaced out than ever. In the silence, it made you think about something that you both had unintentionally avoided over the last month. 

“Do you think it might be a good idea to not keep doing this at our job…?” You laughed weakly. “I know they couldn’t get in, but what if that was a janitor.” 

Jungkook opened his eyes and looked at you.

Oddly enough, this affair had never left the office besides that one time you gave him a handjob before a meeting at another company. It was never something you both discussed, it just kinda happened this way. There was this unspoken line that for some reason none of you decided to cross since this started— inviting each other home.

Jungkook might have had his own reasons, but at least for you the office made it less real. Just like the very day you found yourself on Jungkook’s desk, it was almost like there was this haze in the air that made the reality of what you were doing easier to bear. At home— that felt personal— too personal for something that needed to have ended weeks ago, something that should have never started in the first place. Things just seemed easier here, risky yes, but convenient and made it a lot less difficult to convince yourself that you weren’t having an affair with a married man. 

But again, it was risky, and you were bound to get caught one day if this kept going. Maybe you hoped that the last time would really be the last, no need to bring him over, but for some reason you just couldn’t see that happening anymore. It felt more likely one day you both were going to get caught with your pants down by the janitor than you were to end things right now. 

That brush with the possibility, while exhilarating, you knew it was a warning sign from the universe that the next time you both might not be so lucky. 

“You’re probably right…” He sighed. 

“Your place probably isn’t a good idea considering… well, you know… it’s just me at my apartment, no roommates whatsoever, so we could finally have some privacy.” You suggested.

Jungkook slowly nodded, his silence lingered for a while. 

“Unless maybe you’re not comfortab—” 

“No, no, sorry. Your place is fine. It’s probably best to continue things from there then. Next time I guess we’ll meet there.” Jungkook rushed out, but you could tell something was a little off about him. He normally got quiet after things were done, but this was just unlike him.

“Alright, my place it is then.” You sighed. It was weird, you literally just had some of the best sex you ever had, yet Jungkook’s low mood was so easily sucking the new found energy right out of you. 

Silence passed for a little while before you couldn’t take it any longer. “Are you doing ok? I could practically taste the alcohol you drank earlier. Did you go somewhere? Everything alright?” You finally asked, more than a little concerned.

Your eyes bared into him as you waited for his answer. 

Jungkook weakly smiled into the darkness. “Just trying to make it through the day.” 

His answer did nothing but make you more worried, it just confirmed your worst fears. It’s not like he went maybe to some fancy brunch with friends, he was simply day drinking for no other reason than to drown out whatever sorrows he was dealing with.

“Are you drunk, you seem a little…” Off, he’s seemed off all day and that says something, because everything about him was off on a daily basis— today strayed even further from the ordinary.

“Not drunk… just maybe buzzed… no— just a little more than that. I think tipsy, feeling a little…” His voice trailed off as he shook his hand, “Not all there, but not completely gone.”

His answer didn’t surprise you there.

“Maybe you should stay here or head back to your office for a little while and sober up.” You suggested, trying your best to help out. It wasn’t like he was drunk drunk, but it was definitely obvious there was something off about him— you knew that before you had your tongue in his mouth. You worried someone else might realize.

Jungkook sighed. “You’re right… things just feel easier like this…” 

You walked a little closer, beckoning him to continue. 

“It’s just getting harder and harder to make it through… I’m trying, but I’m just so weak. I wish I was stronger.” Jungkook tried to laugh, but his eyes were watery. He was glad you couldn’t see.

But even in the darkness, he noticed your concerned eyes staring up at him. Suddenly you were wrapping your arms around his frame. It wasn’t something he expected as your warmth embraced him in a whole new way, his eyes were wide and for a second the haze of the alcohol dissipated.

“You are strong… You managed to get out of your cozy bed today and brave going through this awful fucking weather to get to work.” You were trying to be funny, and it made you happy hearing Jungkook chuckle. “I’m serious though, just getting out of bed is worth celebrating— don’t say you’re weak because it’ll only make it more true the more you say it.” You said while gently rubbing his back.

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a while, he was just enjoying the feeling of you this close a little too much. “Thank you.” He smiled. He couldn’t say he believed that entirely yet, but it still felt nice hearing someone like you say that. 

“No problem… and sorry—” You pulled back and it took everything in Jungkook not to try and go for another. “You just looked like you needed a hug.”

It probably only took away a hair off of the mountain that was all his problems, but still it helped. “Thank you, really.”

You smiled at him and Jungkook couldn’t stop the weird way his heart twisted in his chest as he stared at you.

“Anyway, I have a Christmas tree I need to go decorate.” You sighed, stretching your tired limbs.  

Jungkook looked at you curiously.

“Apparently, all the teams on the floor are competing this year on who can decorate the best Christmas tree. Director Son is really passionate about it and beating the other teams, so we’re having an unofficial meeting to start working on it.” 

As you spoke, Jungkook’s eyes widened as he remembered that the holidays were approaching fast, tomorrow was the first already. At this, Jungkook’s face fell.

“What, you think it’s stupid?” You questioned and Jungkook quickly shook his head.

“It’s not that—”

“Maybe the fact we aren’t working, because—”

“No… you guys are fine. December is just busy for me, and I don’t know— this year I’m not really too excited.” He sighed. He normally never was, but he knew exactly why this year felt so off. December meant he would have to face his and Yuri’s family again, and as if he couldn’t get any more pathetic, he needed to face them with the knowledge he was cheating on his wife. The “cheery” holiday spirit was just the cherry on top to bring him down. While everyone else was going to be out celebrating, he would be wallowing in his self misery, reflecting and thinking back to what a horrible year this turned out to be. 

“Well, if you want to, you could always join our team in the competition if you need a little holiday cheer.” You were both joking and being incredibly serious. It was evident he wasn’t lying, and you were honestly worried about him. Maybe a little fun is what he needed.

Jungkook laughed. “I’ll think about it.” He wouldn’t, he wasn’t in the mood at all— he’d just bring everyone down with him.

“I hope so.”

You stretched again. “Anyway, were you heading out?” You questioned when he still hadn’t moved. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll head back to the office like you suggested,” he couldn’t deny and say he wasn’t going to try and go for another beer. He recently bought a new pack to restock his fridge, but that was how he ended up tipsy today. He hoped he would get a grip and avoid it though, to actually heed your advice. He had work to do later. “But you can leave first and head out to get tangled in tinsel.”

You both laughed. “No, that’s not me, but I definitely know a few coworkers who I might need to detangle— Taehyung will somehow goof his way into getting wrapped up in decorations, then he’ll end up asking me to unravel him.” You laughed at the thought because, honestly, that would be something that he would do.

You didn’t notice Jungkook slightly frown at the mention of his name.

“Anyway, thank you for being here— sorry for pulling you here so suddenly.” He apologized.

“You’re fine, it won’t matter anymore. We shouldn’t have to worry about getting caught next time.” You smiled.

“Right… till then.” He weakly smiled back. 

Another moment of silence passed, it was almost like you both wanted to say something, but none of you worked up the courage to spit out.

“Till next time then. Take care of yourself, okay?” You pointed a finger at him.

Jungkook just nodded.

“Oh, and don’t forget to eat lunch!” You were saying anything you could think of to keep yourself around just a little longer in case he wanted to spill what he had on his mind. You really were concerned.

Jungkook just nodded again.

You glanced at him worriedly before you started heading to leave. Your eyes maintained their gaze, but you finally broke away and opened the door. With the click of it closing, you were gone.

Jungkook was alone.

In an instant, his eyes crinkled while tears poured out and slipped onto his cheeks. Jungkook quietly clasped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his abrupt sobs. 

Why does it hurt so much?

He just wanted it to end. Peace, he can’t go on like this much longer. All he wanted was a break from this hellish storm. Does it ever end? Everlasting, boundless, a harsh, brutal storm for the wicked. He couldn’t think of a more fitting punishment for people like him.

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming...?

[ricefamine]

Luffy bf headcanons! (Luffy x reader)

Warnings: lots of fluff.. also mentions of being naked but nothing suggestive !(˶˃⤙˂˶)

︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶

• Can't be apart from you in fights (he's scared that you'll get hurt even if you're strong asf)

• Shares his food with you even if you say no

"It's really good!! Just eat it!!"

"Luffy.. I already have that on my plate.."

"Just eat ittttt pleaseee!!"

You eventually eat it.

• Let's you wear his hat whenever you want

• He's freaking dumb (DUH) so whenever you hint at wanting something in the relationship he doesn't understand until you explain in a lot of detail

• Literally CANNOT take a shower without you

• Loves giving you random kisses even if public and he is NOT scared at all to show you some PDA infact he loves it

• Adores when you feed him

• Loves when you bully usopp with him like tremendously

• He likes when you cuddle him but he's mostly the one asking to cuddle first

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꩜

Tiny story!!!

It's dark out and it's time to shower! Hell yeah! your favorite thing mostly because you get sweaty and stinky after that long working on the ship..

"HEY HEY (name)!! ARE YOU GONNA TAKE A BATH?!"

luffy screamed loud as ever but you liked it (for some reason..)

"Yeah I am you wanna join lu?"

"YES!"

after you guys get in the shower as usual he kisses you to try and make you giggle! He's a weird guy isn't he..

"Lu! Stop it tickles!"

"Never!"

A little after that you guys dried off and got dressed

"Hey (name)? Can we cuddle?"

"Duh"

You guys get under the covers and cuddle

"You're so warm.."

"Why are you so cold luffy.."

"Because"

"Dummy.. but you're my dummy"

You guys fell asleep after an hour or so, as always you fell asleep happily in his arms.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

Thank you for reading! It's not very good cuz I wrote this extremely late😭 but also I'm going to write a part 2 of that nami x reader fic I made! But a bit longer because the last one I made was short!

[totallybakedcake]

Us

Umemiya Hajime

A total softie

He absolutely loves giving physical affection as his love language, his hugs, kisses, and cuddles are equal to heaven.

Umemiya has this weird habit, he pulls you to his lap and then wraps you in his jacket, protecting you like a baby. He does it when you get too whiny, annoyed, or sad.

Is a great cook, he can make a delicious meal with random ingredients you hand him for fun.

"Ume, I want to eat this food item, it's going viral." The following meal, that same item is presented to you.

For dates, he prefers going to a deserted garden for a picnic.

He introduces you to furin, they even treat you like a younger sister that needs to be protected at all costs.

Umemiya honestly does not share a lot of fighting details with you, he does not want his partner to know about violence and gives many excuses or distracts you when asking about his injuries or fights.

Kiryu Mitsuki

Mitsuki always has the most fun ideas for some reason.

"Oh so my *girlfriend* is bored? Wanna do something from this list I made?"

He likes arcade dates or exploring new stores or places, it helps both of you understand each other's style and choices well.

His love language is gift giving, he gives you a rose, clothing piece, bracelet or just something each day.

Mitsuki and you would be the type to act as if you are cheating on each other by talking to someone else on the phone, saying stuff like, Don't tell this boyfriend or girlfriend, but in reality, you both are pranking the others.

Mitsuki really likes head pats/massages! He adores it so much when you lace your fingers in his hair.

Protects you at all costs!

Saved your name on his phone as "My pookie <3."

Haruka Sakura

Tsundere boy

He actually notices the little things, the way your hands start getting tense or you get sweaty when nervous, or how you are chatting to him on the phone and end every sentence with a heart.

He gives you stuff you wanted and forgot about, like the notebook you wanted for journaling or a mug and keychain with your pictures.

Goodness, his problem is that he gets so freaking shy while saying I love you.

"I love you." You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he leaves to go to Furin. "Me too," Sakura mumbles before leaving. Why was it so difficult to say a simple 'I love you' to his own girlfriend?

Don't worry, he says that to you when you are asleep.

Sakura's way of showing love is quality time, he does not sleep unless you both have had a late-night walk and talked for a bit, and he lets you vent about your day or feelings whenever you want to. Before leaving, he even spends a good hour just rambling about what his day might be like and asking you what you have planned.

well so, I did not expect windbreaker to win in the polls but yall proved me wrong. I haven't written for windbreaker since like 6 MONTHS which is so so crazy but now season 2 is coming back in July, I believe, so im tryna get in the groove once again!

I also want to say THANK YOU ALL!!

I found tumblr out of nowhere and had no idea that I would start writing my goofy thoughts and uploading them. Did not even imagine so many people would like them and even decide to follow me. I am so very grateful for everything, all the feelings of nervousness and anxiousness about uploading fanfics have gone so far away.

Have a very wonderful day:D

HOLD ON

Nobody told me that season 2 IS airing right now.

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman PART THREE: I don't want you, I crave you

Part one here! ♥ Part two here! ♥ Part four here! ♥ Part five here!

• Summary: Arthur Hill invites y/n to join himself, George, and of course Arthur TV on a platform roulette video. Arthur gets a little braver. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!George Clarke and friend!Arthur Hill) • Fluff with VERY SLIGHT smut, friends to something more... I thought I'd splice in some slight jealous!Arthur too for fun • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, brief vomit mention, slight cheekiness/NSFW mentions • Word count: 12,889 words Note 1: Arthur Hill will be either referred to by his full name or just ‘Hill’ again Note 2: I picked the place at random and researched a few pub names and places, I'm sorry if some details are inaccurate!

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

It had been almost three weeks since Chris uploaded the pub golf video, three weeks since the shipping between y/n and Arthur begun, three weeks since #y/nTV began circulating on social media amongst the UK YouTube commentary fans. Y/n and Arthur continued to speak as ‘just friends’, or at least that’s what they told anyone who asked, but felt themselves getting closer and closer. They hadn’t seen each other in person since the morning after they met as their schedules were busy, but they played a couple of Minecraft sessions off camera together and began texting daily.

------

Y/n is only about four minutes away from the station where Arthur Hill, George Clarke, and cameraman James are waiting. She's running late, but late is never quite as perfected as Arthur TV himself.

In comparison to Chris’s shoot, y/n feels more at ease for today. She’s not quite sure whether it’s because there are fewer people and a lack of an uncomfortable uniform, or if her nerves are just deafened by the thrill of seeing Arthur again. Her mind buzzes with intrigue on where the adventure will take her today.

From a more predictable 27 minutes away, Arthur’s mind is also racing. Not just because he’s rushing, weaving around commuters like a chased gazelle, but because he is also just as excited to see y/n. Beautiful, hilarious y/n. The girl he’s missed since day two of officially knowing her. Her sweet soft voice plays on loop in his head from their Minecraft sessions, which had lasted late into the night and when hushed voices were a must. He too has enjoyed reading the viewers’ speculations and support.

His favourite recurring comments are oddly from the ‘y/nTV deniers’; who claim that he couldn’t possibly be into y/n as he touches her and jokes with her a lot like he does with his other friends. ‘If he really was into her, he’d be shy’ is their so-called proof. He finds it amusing how they think that that’s evidence, when in fact physical touch is his love language. Sure, he loves his friends and touches them a lot and sure, y/n is his friend, but his love for her is different. Love. He hasn’t said it out loud to anyone yet, not even to himself, but he’ll very soon realise that what he feels for her definitely love.

“There she is!” A beaming George calls as y/n scurries to the boys. He gives her a quick gentle hug before she scoots to Hill to give him one too.

“Hey bestie,” Hill grins, “We haven’t started filming yet. We usually start rolling when we see Arthur making his grand entrance through the crowd.” She pictures his wide eyed expression and athletic body gliding through her fellow train riders, finding the image hilarious. She introduces herself to James and vice versa in the meantime. “Do you know where we’re going yet?” She then asks the group.

“Nah, we wait until we start filming before we find out.” George replies, as Hill’s head dances around while he looks for the disorganised creator. “Ah, he’s just texted. He’ll be here in just a few minutes,” George confirms. Just a few minutes, y/n tells herself in her head. Those minutes feel like hours, that is until a wavy fringe can be seen bouncing amongst the flocks of people in his way. The recording officially begins.

“Fashionably late as usual, we wouldn’t have it any other way,” Hill starts. He turns to the camera and introduces the video as well as his ‘co-stars’, leaving y/n for last as the new guest. While he goes in depth about the concept of the series, Arthur greets the other two. He and George dap and bicker about the agreed meeting time. Arthur then turns to y/n and pulls her into a gentle hug. She can smell his aftershave again and he can smell her familiar perfume. “Hey you,” he utters quietly, a smile evident in his velvet voice.

“We meet again,” y/n replies as they move away from their short embrace, his stubble softly grazing past her cheek as he stands straight. They share a sweet gaze before both realising they are in fact not the only two people in existence. The rouletters learn their destination is Aylesford, Kent. With a dangerous 6 minutes before departure, they rush to grab their travel drinks and make their way to their first train.

Y/n enters the carriage first and nabs herself a window seat. The boys are still making their way down the aisle when Arthur calls shotgun for the other window seat, despite being behind Hill, making sure he sits opposite y/n. Hill instead sits to y/n’s left, George situates himself next to Arthur. They all crack open their drinks of choice as James sits beside the four, filming away. Y/n made sure she had a bigger breakfast before she left, knowing full well how hammered the boys get in these videos. They drink and chatter amongst themselves, which mostly means that George and Hill gang up on Arthur, while y/n laughs but looks at him with empathy.

The train passes a field full of sheep and the group begin telling as many sheep related jokes and puns as possible. “I’m woolly looking forward to exploring today,” Hill attempts.

"Really? I'm feeling a little sheepish" George adds, pulling a smug face towards the camera.

"Sheers everyone!" Arthur joins in, holding up his drink. George and y/n join in the cheersing with a 'waaaay'.

"I don't get it." Hill mutters quietly. George acts out using a razor, doing an impression of the motorised noise, giving Hill intense eye contact.

"Sheeps get sheered," Arthur says, accompanying George's actions, his eyebrows low as he too looks at Hill, almost with disappointment.

"I'm baaaaaffled that you didn't get that Hilly," y/n chimes in with a smirk. Arthur smiles proudly, a swift bounce in his eyebrows in amusement as he cheerses her again.

They approach their first changeover stop and follow Hill, who holds out his phone like it's physically dragging them to their next platform. They have plenty of time before this train leaves, so they don't rush this time around. James points the camera to George as he walks ahead with Hill, they mostly discuss Hill's already slightly tipsy state as the camera also catches 'y/nTV' behind them through their shoulders.

"I was wondering if you'd like to play a horror game with me on my second channel," Arthur asks, "everyone's begging me to have you on something of mine." Of course y/n accepts. They still have plans for y/n to guest star on the Bach and Arthur podcast, but they're still working through their current pre-planned episode schedule and Bach is on vacation. Arthur leans into y/n's ear, “I’m so glad you’re here by the way,” he whispers.

“Me too,” she replies with a genuine smile, internally bracing herself, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for that coffee!”

“You’ve… what?” Arthur forgets to walk for a moment, before his wide eyes dart to her.

“This way you two!” Hill calls out, the pair not realising that they’re walking the wrong way. They awkwardly laugh and scurry closer to George, Hill, and James.

Before the pair can continue their conversation, James points the camera to them. Arthur thinks quick on his feet and pretends that they were discussing something else. “Personally I think Arthur’s going to throw up first.” He states about Hill.

“It’s definitely one of you two,” George replies with a grin peering over his shoulder at the pair, “y/n in particular was wobbly as fuck at the pub golf!”

“If I remember correctly, your team came last Clarkey.” Y/n quips, sneering. George pretends he's fainting in response, letting out a high pitched sigh.

“This one guys!” Hill interjects, pointing his phone towards their next train. James moves to the back of them to film the group boarding the carriage from behind. Y/n kindly offers the window seat to the others, which Hill takes. George just shrugs and sits next to him. Arthur gestures to let y/n take a window seat again and then plops down next to her.

“Right then,” Hill starts, plonking the carrier bag on the table, still containing beverages and passing a can to each contender, “Drink up darlings!”

Y/n examines the contents, “God, I didn’t realise the alcohol count is 5%, we’ll be dead before we get there.” She states with a nervous laugh.

“Turns out y/n is the one who’s sheepish,” George points out, with a wink to the camera before his eyes go wide, “editor, keep all the sheep jokes in so that makes sense!”

As Hill and George are in deep conversation with the camera solely pointed at them both, y/n gestures to the arm rest between her and Arthur. “Mind if I move this?” She asks him quietly.

“Oh, sure!” He responds with an equally low, but enthusiastic voice as he lifts the arm rest out of the way. She shoots him over a faint thank you as they both turn their attention to the boys. Y/n rests her hands on the seat, either side of her thighs. While they listen to the Elvis impersonations George and Hill make back and forth for some reason, Arthur too drops his hand down by his side. Placing his hand fanned out on the chair, his pinky finger gently touched y/n’s. She looks down at the small connection for a brief moment, then shifts her gaze up to Arthur’s face only to see his chocolate eyes are already on her. His loving smile confirms it, it was a deliberate move. She shoots him a small grin back but immediately looks away so he can’t see the redness burning on her cheeks.

“How far are we now lads?” She asks kindly, as if her mind wasn't racing. Hill narrows his eyes at the digital notice from across the carriage, his lips moving slightly as he reads.

“Two more stops,” he confirms, “then we’re at lovely… where are we going again?” he lets out an awkward giggle before George chokes on his drink.

“Aylesford,” he answers between a mix of chuckling and coughing, wiping the spill off his lips. Arthur just grins and shakes his head as y/n laughs from behind her hand.

Arthur goes to grab his drink to take a sip, being right handed, but he places his hand back down so he’s in contact with y/n again and reaches instead with his left hand. Luckily it goes unnoticed, except for y/n of course. She glances to Arthur and can see a red tint in his cheeks. It could well be the alcohol, but it’s most likely the touching. It’s barely a pinky-promise and already the two are melting in their seats.

As the train slows down for the gang’s last changeover stop, they can’t help but notice the large amount of people waiting on the platform. “I think that’s the platform we need for the next train.” Hill murmurs with dread.

“Is there an event on or something?” Arthur asks.

“Hell yeah! They’re waiting to see us four legends, and y/n.” George jokes with a smirk. Y/n turns to him with a sad face, poking out her bottom lip for extra effect.

“Might be a bit packed.” Hill worries out loud. As the train slows to a halt, they all collect their empty cans and bin them on the way off the carriage. They head over to the other platform and join the herd. “The next train’s in half an hour if you’d all prefer to wait.” Hill offers.

“I’m pretty hungry, not gonna lie, so I’d rather stand for a couple of minutes and get there sooner and grab food.” George complains. James puts the camera in his bag, as they all figure it’s too crowded to film yet.

“I didn’t realise you guys ate proper meals on these videos, I thought it was drink drink drink.” Y/n points out.

“We usually eat shortly after arriving,” Arthur gently explains, “that’s why we seemingly go from zero to a hundred drunk towards the end, because after a while our lunches wears off.” Y/n nods, genuinely interested.

Arthur places his hand on the small of her back, his lips right up to her ear. “It’s because George gets really pissy when he’s hungry.” George doesn’t hear as he’s too busy frowning at his phone, googling the nearest restaurant from the Aylesford station. Even though Arthur whispers to her a lot, y/n still feels flustered over his warm breath blowing down her neck.

Their next train pulls up and the hoards of people clamber on. The gang all manage to squeeze themselves on but are have no choice but to stand by the doors. No one else is stood with them there, thanks to other passengers using the space for a couple of suitcases and a bike. Arthur reaches his hand behind y/n to hold one of the stanchion poles, standing close to her to keep her steady as the train moves.

James whips a smaller camera out, filming the four as they awkwardly stand in silence. Hill jokingly shifts his wide eyes around, all of them purposefully not speaking or engaging in eye contact for comedic effect. The train jerks around at one point and y/n instinctively grabs onto Arthur’s T shirt to ground herself, one by on his belly and the other by his back. She can’t help but feel Arthur’s firm torso against her knuckles as she grips the fabric. She immediately apologises and re-steadies herself, letting go. “You’re all good,” he chuckles shyly, secretly wishing she’d grab him again. His grin shrinks into a small side smile as he leans down. “You can hold me anytime you need.” He whispers cheekily, his lips grazing her ear. Thankfully the camera was put away again by this point. She can’t believe her ears. Those drinks must be getting to his head already, he drank more cans than the others did on the last train, after all. He stands straight again, still smiling. She tries looking nonchalantly out the window, as if what he said isn't driving her crazy.

“We’re stopping here,” George grumbles as the train slows down. The camera is back out and filming as the four step off and make their way to the exit.

“Right, so,” Hill speaks to the camera casually.

“Riiiiiight soooo!” George interjects immediately, mocking Arthur’s YouTube intro. Hill then starts doing it too.

“Riiiight soooo, um, we’re here in Aylesford, um-”

“OK, I do not go ‘um’ THAT much!” Arthur calls out as they all follow Hill’s lead.

“You do sometimes” y/n replies while cackling. George nods in agreement.

“Oh, shush you!” Arthur huffs with a grin, poking her side while Hill tells the audience which pub they’re heading to first.

However before they actually go there, they first stop off at a fish and chips shop just 15 minutes from the station, to shut George up. George gets himself a large portion of chips, Hill and James get mediums, and Arthur shares a large portion with y/n. They all walk an eat off camera as they slowly make their way to the first pub: The Chequered Inn. The walk is mostly silent while they feast, until they're all finished and the camera instinctively comes back on.

"Watch this," George giggles to the camera, evil written all over his face. He rushes quietly behind Hill and steps on the heal of his shoe, making his foot pop out and his clean white sock stamping on the concrete floor. "Oh fucking hell!" He yells with his head thrown back, the camera zooming in on Hill's now stained sock, before zooming back out and capturing the other three laughing. "Come here!" Hill shouts as George immediately runs away, almost getting them both ran over as they sprint across the road.

"They're like children," y/n chuckles, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the display. The camera is on them now, as they stand like embarrassed parents watching their sons fight.

"Yeah, children with weird shaped and sized heads." Arthur adds with a closed mouth smile.

"What?" Hill calls out as the boys walk back to the adults, both out of breath.

"Nothing!" Arthur replies angelically.

They all enter the first pub, Hill ordering a Guinness for each of the four of them, as y/n and George find them a table. They spot a booth and slide in. James stands with the two Arthurs up at the bar, hoping to capture any awkward interactions with the barmen.

"Giving the people what they want, are we?" George whispers to y/n with a smirk.

"What d'you mean?" Y/n asks, genuinely confused.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen the swarm of 'y/n and Arthur' posts sweeping the nation!" He responds.

Y/n slowly nods and begins to giggle. "I honestly didn't realise we were being weird, I'll try and make things less awkward between us." As they sit in their booth whispering to each other, they're very unaware of how close they're sitting. George with his arm draped over the back of y/n's part of the rounded booth chair, leaning over and face close to hers, only so they can hear each other over the general clatter of the pub.

Arthur glances over from the bar as Hill pays for their drinks. He sees the close proximity between the girl he has feelings for and his best friend and he begins to doubt whether or not she actually likes him, or whether she's close with all her guy friends. "Ready?" Hill asks him, slightly firmly due to how long he's been waiting for Arthur to grab the other two pints. Arthur unclenches his jaw, mutters a quick apology and joins Hill in bringing the drinks over.

George moves himself around to the end of the booth, allowing y/n to follow suit as the Arthurs slide in, and James sits on the other end. As Hill explains what 'splitting the G' is, George moves his arm so it's on his lap and no longer behind y/n. They all watch as Hill is first to drink, the foam landing almost perfectly as they cheer. Arthur is next, but he just over drinks it. He tries protesting but the other boys won't allow it.

"So close Arth!" y/n sighs teasingly, patting him on the back gently. Arthur snaps his head round to narrow his eyes at her playfully as he pushes her pint closer as if to challenge her. She gives it a go but massively undershoots it, not drinking near enough.

"Sooo close [nickname]!" Arthur mocks, purposefully quivering his lower lip as he looks at her with exaggerated pity. He rubs small circles on her lower back, pretending it's part of the sympathy act when really he just wants the closeness. Y/n laughs as she buries her head in her hands, also overplaying her reaction. She's secretly enjoying the contact though, it feels natural and almost domestic.

As the attention is on George and his split attempt, Arthur is unaware of the slight frown in his face. Hill leans to Arthur's ear, "You can probably stop rubbing her back now," he whispers with a cheeky grin. Arthur, who didn’t realise he's still doing it, casually drops his hand down from y/n's back, resting on the seat instead. He keeps his composure the whole time however, as to not draw attention. George perfectly splits the G and raises his glass as the gang applaud him, Arthur only donning a small smile.

George gets a phone call and attempts to have the conversation inside, but he can’t hear very well and so excuses himself and heads outside. Now he’s out the way, y/n sees an opportunity to go to the toilet. “I promise it’s not to vomit!” She giggles.

“It’s not pub golf, feel free to spew as much as you need.” Hill explains with a sneer, a sentence that’s oddly comforting. Once she’s out of sight, Hill examines James as his full attention’s on his phone, after having recorded enough clips in this pub. Knowing the coast is clear, he then turns to his fellow Arthur. “What was up with you earlier then?” He asks, a worried tone with a hint of accusation.

“What?” Arthur responds, his gaze darting away from where he last saw y/n and snapping to Hill.

“You, earlier. Staring at y/n and George,” Hill continues, looking around to ensure neither of the two return, “there’s no way you think THAT'S happening. Come on man.”

Exhaling slowly, Arthur’s shoulders relax. “Fine, they looked a little cozy and I didn’t like it.” He murmurs, feeling embarrassed at his own insecurities. “Y/n is absolutely George’s type too and it would kill me if it turns out she likes him.”

“Arthur mate, you’re so smart most of the time, but hear me out on this. You’re being dumb.” Hill puts his arm around him and jostles him a little, staring at him sternly in his eyes. “She is so into you.”

Arthur looks to Hill, surprised to hear someone say those words in a serious tone. Usually he didn't believe others when they told him before, because it seemed like they were just teasing him.

“You’re probably just anxious because you have a crush on her, and he’s one of your best friends. Our thoughts can be cruel to us sometimes.” Hill adds as he squeezes Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur looks down to the table, slowly nodding as he feels almost ashamed for his worries before. He feels guilty for mistrusting y/n and George, and was definitely letting his worries get to him. “Thanks, you’re right, I think.” He chuckles sheepishly. Deep down though, he won't believe it truly unless she tells him or makes a bold move to show him.

Y/n returns to the table with her usual sweet smile. “You two look very serious,” she starts, “everything OK?”

Hill sees an opportunity to be a pain in the ass, “Arthur’s just worrying over silly things.” He responds with a smirk. Arthur burns his eyes into Hill.

“Worried? What’re you worrying about Arth?” Her happy expression sours as she dons a concerned look. Hill excuses himself and goes to the toilet, patting Arthur on the back as he leaves.

“I’m fine, Arthur’s just being a dick as usual.” Arthur shyly explains. Y/n’s smile creeps back.

“That I can believe, but you didn’t seem yourself earlier,” she replies, turning her body to face him more and leaning closer, “are you sure you’re OK?” Her voice low and laced with care.

Arthur thinks about being honest, about explaining that he got himself worked up over nothing, but he spots George returning from outside out the corner of his eye.

“I’m OK, thanks though y/n. Just a little tired I think, I’ll be fine after a few more drinks though.” He squints his eyes shut as he shoots her a smile, a weight further lifting from his shoulders.

“You alright Clarkey?” Y/n asks as he scoots back in next to her.

"Yeah, just my mum." He replies with a friendly smile. Arthur looks at George, then to y/n, and is internally slapping himself for seeing anything other than a brother-sister dynamic between the two. He finds a new found confidence, although that could be also due to the Guinness from earlier taking effect.

"Oh, was she telling you how great I was last night?" Hill quips with a wink as he rejoins them too.

"You disgust me." George retorts with a low grumbly voice, pretending to be disappointed.

As they exit the pub one by one, Hill addresses the group; "Hope you guys are wearing comfy shoes, as this'll be quite a trek." They all nod, not minding a long walk. However, the next pub, Little Gem, is only a one minute walk away. In fact, it was caught on camera in the background while Hill made the joke. They all burst out laughing 56 seconds later when the adorable little sign is spotted, and they all enter.

The downstairs area is quite busy, so Arthur and y/n head to find a table upstairs while George volunteers to help Hill bring the drinks over this time. They spot a cozy corner and Arthur pulls a chair out for y/n, then taking a seat next to her. "This place is cute." Y/n remarks, her voice beginning to wobble, wearing a smile as she looks around the place.

"You'll fit right in then." Arthur states, beaming with rosy cheeks. Y/n turns to him in surprise, not expecting another bold statement from him already.

"Hmm?" She hums, her eyebrows high, the corners of her mouth slightly curving up as she slowly realises what he said.

"'Little Gem'. That could even be your nickname," Arthur adds. Y/n stares into his eyes, which are adoringly heavy as he leans in closer and continues, "because you're a rare find and your e/c eyes are beautiful, like gems."

Her mouth falling open slightly, her stomach flipping, all she can utter is: "Arthur..." under her breath. He chuckles in response, turning redder.

"So beautiful." He repeats quietly as he pecks a kiss to her cheek, right by her ear. His eyes still on her, watching her nervously stutter as she finds herself in a fit of small giggles. He figures that if he had misread the situation, she’ll shut him down nicely, but she hadn't and that’s why he can’t stop smiling.

“This is a quaint little corner.” George declares, snapping them out of their intimate peace. He sets their pints down as Hill follows, James filming from behind them. The guys take their seats. "Little Gem is the smallest pub in Aylesford." Hill informs his friends.

“To the Little Gem!” Arthur cheers, raising his glass, the others clinking theirs together as they echo him. “The most beautiful thing in existence!” He continues, shooting y/n a very sly wink before taking a few swigs. George and Hill figure it’s just Arthur being his odd self and don’t think too much about it. Y/n on the other hand can’t handle it, her face heating up.

“God y/n you’re bright red, you struggling already again?” George jabs, causing her to get the giggles again.

“Yeah, this is worse than your pub golf tolerance!” Arthur chimes in, making her cheeks burn more.

“I’m fine! There must be something in the Aylesford air or something!” She retorts, all flustered.

“Didn’t help that the first lot of drinks on the train had such high alcohol levels to be fair.” Arthur chuckles.

“And it’s very warm and romantic in this snug little corner.” Hill adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

After drinking their beers and engaging in general chitchat, Hill excuses himself and hurries off. The three speculate that he's soiled himself or wet himself, or both. George looks over the railings to see Hill has ordered a large tray of shots and watches him carrying it up the stairs. "Oh god, what's he planning?" George mutters to the pair as they watch Hill approach the table.

Once he's sat down, he announces: "I thought seeing as we're the only ones up here, we can play a cheeky game of 'never have I ever'!"

"Yaaaay." Arthur cheers quietly, the other two looking excited.

"OK I'll start," Hill begins, with a smirk, "Never have I ever... shagged a surfboard." George and Hill dart their eyes to Arthur.

"Y-You can't do ones that are only aimed at one person!" Arthur whines, half laughing, half surprised. Y/n stares at Arthur with a mix of shock and amusement, annoyed that she somehow hadn't heard this story yet.

"Oh yes we can!" George interjects with a cheeky giggle.

"Arthur, your turn." Hill directs.

"OK," Arthur pauses for thought, "OK, never have I ever filmed a video with someone I didn't like." A couple of 'oooh's murmur across the table and everyone takes a shot.

"Y/n! Really!" Arthur yells, the drinks already ramping up his volume, "I can't imagine you hating anyone!"

"I don't! I don't hate them, we just didn't gel!" Y/n cries in defense.

"You'll have to spill the tea later" George chuckles, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

"OK, never have I ever..." Y/n starts, "... Gave a girl the ick because I was IDed on a date." She grins at Arthur.

"Oi! We said no obviously targeted ones!" Arthur shouts, pointing his finger at her as he watches her laugh.

"Who's we?" Hill asks mischievously.

"Yeah, you're the only one bitchin'." George teases in a condescending tone, his arms crossed.

"How did you know about that?" Arthur whispers to y/n, a playful smile across his face.

"I saw you talk about it, I think in a video with Cam." She explains, still amused.

"Anyway!" George calls, eager to take his turn. He looks at the other three players, a certain glint in his eye. "Never have I ever really liked someone I filmed a video with."

Y/n takes a shot without hesitation. The two Arthurs both ask if he means having a crush on someone, which George nods before downing a shot himself. Arthur hesitates, then also takes one.

"Really?" Hill enquires, clasping his hands together like a movie villain. "Anyone want to fess up?" The three all yell 'no', almost in unison.

The game continues for a while, turning into a game of 'who can get the others drunk the quickest', all picking specific declarations to target the others, but none of them taking the game too far or revealing actual secrets. Once the shots are all gone, the recording stops while the four give the alcohol a chance to sit in their systems, before heading off to the next pub.

As they head out, all but George are slightly beyond tipsy. "OK guys, this pub is actually quite a long walk away." Hill warns, before winking at the camera. He leads the group, George right behind him scrolling through his phone. Y/n and Arthur walk side by side. "I can't believe how many weird experiences you've had," Arthur chuckles as he looks at her, more interested in her than ever. The game revealed some truths that Arthur hadn't learned yet.

"I guess I'm a wild one!" She chuckles as she shrugs.

Arthur wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer to him as they walk, he leans down with his lips right by her ear. "I'd love to see your wild side" He whispers, then easing his grasp.

Before she can react, Hill makes a sudden turn to The Bush, the third pub, which is only a two minute walk from Little Gem. "Where are you- oh my god." George groans. Hill laughs, holding his arms outwards as if he'll get an applause.

"'The Bush'?" Arthur asks with a hint of immaturity.

"Please don't use this pub as another nickname for me." Y/n quips, just loud enough for Arthur to hear, making him throw his head back with an unapologetically loud laugh.

The noise of the pub paired with the copyrighted music leads the group to head out to the pub garden. They take their seats at one of the tables under a large parasol, out of the English sun, just a few hours before it begins setting.

Hill asks y/n this time to help him carry out the drinks, some fruity ciders. They head back inside where there's already a small queue.

"So, you enjoying your platform roulette debut so far?" Hill asks.

"I'm loving it so much, thanks again for the invite."

"Good good, though I doubt you're enjoying it as much as Arthur," He teases.

She narrows her eyes, confused. "What?"

"You and Arthur, the flirting. It's cute honestly," Hill explains, y/n looks down embarrassed, completely unaware of how obvious they were being, "I don't think I've ever seen him this chirpy."

"Really?" She asks, a smile growing.

"Well, apart from your pub golf video and its unseen bits," he continues as y/n shyly picks at her fingers, "Arthur's the happiest person I've ever met, and you managed to make him even happier. Wow."

Meanwhile outside, George taps Arthur on the back while he scrolls through emails on his phone. "Mate, you need to ask her out." George states, point blank.

"Who?" Arthur attempts, even trying to look confused by frowning. George rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"You know exactly who I mean," George snaps back, Arthur exhales and drops his shoulders, "what are you waiting for?"

"I don't know, I'm just nervous that she's not into me. I don't want to ask her out and she says no and doesn't want to even be my friend-"

"You really think she doesn't like you back?" George scoffs, smirking as he looks into Arthur's eyes through furrowed brows. "You don't see the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at you, or the way she blushes when she laughs at your jokes. She didn't tell you off when you kissed her cheek even-"

"You saw that?" Arthur yells, his voice breaking. He clasps a hand to his mouth as George shushes him.

"Yes and I've known y/n longer than you. Trust me, if she didn't like you, she certainly wouldn't let you do that." He pinches Arthur's cheek and lightly jiggles him. Arthur swats his hand away. "I've never seen her with a crush before, until she met you."

As they spot y/n and Hill slowly walking to their table with the drinks, George and Arthur sit up straight in an attempt to look like they weren't just discussing anyone.

Y/n sits opposite Arthur. For the first time, she notices how Arthur's gorgeous chocolate eyes light up when they share a gaze. Arthur spots the flush on her cheeks that George had mentioned just earlier.

With the camera rolling, George decides to make the others play a game of 'name that tune'. He starts by humming the instrumental part of 'Late for the Reservation', kindly giving Hill some free advertising.

"Oh! Late for the Reservation!" Y/n guesses excitedly. George nods while Hill bows his head with a shy smile. He turns to the camera.

"This sounds planned but it wasn't, but you can listen to Late for the Reservation now!"

The group carries on the game for a little while, Hill surprisingly being awful at guessing despite his field of expertise. Arthur downs the rest of his drink and suddenly clears his throat.

"Sorry guys, I've just got to make a quick phone call. I'll be right back." He explains, before rushing through the pub to get to the front door.

The other three continue their game. Y/n begins humming 'Lily'. She can see in George's eyes that he gets the song right away, but he pretends not to to see how long it takes Hill to guess it.

After a further 10 seconds, George bursts out laughing. "There's no way you're not getting this!" He snorts, while y/n continues humming with a grin.

"I genuinely don't know!" Hill cries while laughing awkwardly, causing the other two to chortle.

"It's YOUR song!" They both yell.

"Oh, Lily..." Hill mutters as he slowly puts his head in his hands, chuckling with shame.

Suddenly, y/n's phone buzzes. "Oh, it's Arthur," she states to the guys, "it says: 'Come to the front, you NEED to see this!'" She takes the last couple of sips of her cider before standing up, her head rushing.

George's phone also buzzes, he reads the text in his head and elbows Hill to show him. He reads it too and nods. "You guys coming?" Y/n asks the pair kindly.

"I would but my head's swirling." Hill lies.

"And I'd better stay in case he falls into a cider-induced coma." George adds. James puts is camera down and enjoys his drink as y/n shrugs and heads to the front of the pub.

"Hey Arth!" Y/n says joyfully, startling Arthur as he puts his phone away quickly.

"There you are!" He beams, putting his hands in his pockets. She steps fully outside and leans against the wall, next to him.

"What are we looking at?" She asks sweetly, looking around the street for a cute dog or something.

"Oh, um actually, I wanted you to come out here to have some alone time away from the guys and the camera." He explains, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Ah, OK," y/n responds, a little confused but not judging, "is everything alright?"

A smile creeps up on Arthur's lips. Even when he's being weird and awkward, y/n isn't fazed and just shows care for him.

"Everything is great, absolutely fine," he replies, his eyes soften as he looks at her, "in fact, my life has greatly improved ever since I-"

"OH MY GOD IS THAT ARTHUR TV?" A random voice screeches from across the road. The pair snap their heads to the source of the noise and see a small group of teenagers. The girls giggle as they shove each other before running up to them. The boys of the group stay back and watch. "Oh my god I watch your videos all the time!" One of them calls out. Amongst the girls' excitement, one of them pushes y/n out the way as they ask Arthur for a selfie. Y/n stumbles a little but steadies herself against the wall.

"Woah, careful!" Arthur chuckles, trying to keep a peaceful vibe whilst secretly being annoyed that y/n got shoved. The pushy girl takes a selfie with Arthur, just the two of them. "Hey, um, can you take a picture of us with him?" One of the other girls asks y/n.

"Of course I can," y/n kindly obliges, taking the phone off the girl and snapping multiple photos. One of the girls posing with Arthur suddenly goes wide eyed.

"It's y/n from yt/n! Oh my gosh!" She calls out. Her and another girl who’s standing with Arthur suddenly rushes to y/n's side for a photo. "I loved you in pub golf, you and Arthur had such funny moments!"

Y/n gets flustered, as she's not as big as the other guys and still isn't quite used to being 'spotted'. Arthur offers to take a photo for the girls, beaming at y/n's humble reaction.

"Wait, is George inside? George Clarke?" One of them asks, looking at herself in her phone's front facing camera and adjusting her hair. Y/n and Arthur nod.

"And Arthur Hill," Y/n adds with a grin, "they're in the pub garden." They girls squeal and all rush inside. Y/n and Arthur look at each other and exhale at the same time. They then hear the excited screams from the other side of the pub.

“What were you saying?” Y/n asks politely. Arthur prepares to answer but spots the teenage boys coming over, presumably to fetch the girls. They send y/n and Arthur some awkward and apologetic looks as they enter the pub too. Shortly after the teenagers are all seen again exiting the pub, with Hill, George and James emerging from behind them. The girls all call out their good byes and wave as they head the opposite direction to the gang’s next destination.

“OK, this time the pub is quite a while away.” Hill explains to the group.

“Is it the Village Club? Because I can literally see it from here.” Arthur chortles, spitting a little.

“Oh fuck sake, you ruined my joke!” Hill yells halfheartedly, but loud enough to echo.

As they all walk, George murmurs to the camera: “Y’know one of these days it’ll really be a long walk but no one will believe him,” in a false serious tone.

Y/n, hearing this, jogs to join George and James. “Yeah, like the boy who cried walk.” She adds with a grin, and she hears Arthur laughing from behind her.

However when they get there, they soon realise that it’s a social club and was full of members. Although they’re all tipsy, they’re sober enough to decide to give it a miss as to not ruin the members’ fun.

“Well then, let’s have a look at what else we can do while we’re here.” Hill announces as he scrolls through his phone. “Aha! OK, so there’s an Aylesford Friars just 14 minutes away from here and it’s like a historical landmark.”

“14 minutes away or 14 seconds?” George mutters.

“It’s… thatta way!” Hill exclaims enthusiastically and directs the gang to walk back on themselves.

Arthur and George walk side by side while the camera is on them, y/n joins Hill at the front to help with directions.

“How’d things go with Arthur just now, outside the pub?” He asks her, keeping his voice low, then chuckles to himself at the name ‘The Bush’.

“Well, he seemed kind of nervous or something, but then those fans came over, so I never found out." She replies quietly, “Why?”

Worried he’ll reveal too much, he tries to think fast but no thoughts were coming, just ‘The Bush’ or the truth. Luckily for him (and Arthur) James joins them with the camera.

“Uhh, I need a woman’s touch with directions,” he explains, passing y/n his phone while making direct eye contact with the lens.

“The Chequers Inn is just here,” she calculates, gesturing to the pub beside them, “so if we head straight for about 9 minutes we’ll be there.”

“See? Aren’t those eyes amazing?” Hill asks the camera, like a quiz show host trying to flatter his guest.

Y/n suddenly feels a buzz in her own phone. She hands Hill’s back to him and checks her notifications. It’s a text from Arthur:

'Yes 👀✨'

She immediately looks over her shoulder and locks eyes with him, to see he’s already looking at her with a dorky smile. He nods at her to confirm it, she does have amazing eyes. She then watches as he types another message on his phone, a couple of seconds later it comes through:

'Beautiful little gems 😍'

Fighting a blush, she decides to respond, completely ignoring the camera while Hill talks nonsense to it. She sends:

'Mr Frederick, are you flirting with me?'

She turns her head again to watch him read it. He frowns as he concentrates, the words a little blurry to him from all the drinks, but a cheeky smile soon creeps up on his face. Quickly facing forwards again as to not look too needy, she hears George moan: “You’re not seriously texting each other are you?”

“No.” Arthur lies with a half smile, not convincing anyone. He’s not even trying.

George whispers, but y/n still overhears: “Oh please, who else do you smile like THAT for?”

She beams to herself, before her phone vibrating catches her attention. From Arthur:

“Let’s be real, when am I not flirting with you”

Wow, this man is filled with liquid confidence. Or regular confidence, it’s hard for her to tell.

The Friars Aylesford Priory is a beautiful place. Surrounded by gorgeous gardens and holding a cute tea room and gift shop inside, the group slowly potter around. James captures scenic shots and clips of the four, Hill making a mental note to pair the montage with one of his songs.

Arthur takes his time to read a lot of the information dotted around, having to lean in closer and furrow his brows as he struggles to read with is beer goggles. This however, makes for a perfect photo opportunity and y/n snaps one without his knowledge. She can send it to him later for his Instagram. She takes a few more pictures of the place in general.

While they’re in the outdoor gardens, she walks alongside Arthur in a peaceful silence. Unbeknownst to them, George takes a photo of the two of them walking side by side and immediately sends it to them both. Y/n is first to check her phone. “George took our photo,” she says, smiling up at Arthur. He decides to check his phone too, figuring it’s the same message.

“Aw yeah, that’s a lovely photo of us,” he replies with glee, his voice raising in pitch.

“We have a collection now, the first being our cuddle on Chris’s sofa.” Y/n jokes as she saves pic to her photos.

Arthur giggles, feeling his face burn. “That reminds me actually, did Chris show you his pictures from the pub golf?” He then asks. Y/n shakes her head.

They both stop walking as Arthur holds a finger up, signifying to hold on for a moment while he scrolls through his photo album. “They’re the rejected ones of the group pictures he made us take halfway through,” he explains, “look at this one then scroll to the next. Notice anything?” He hands y/n his phone and smiles from ear to ear as he watches her look.

In the group photos, Arthur was on the far left but at the front, whereas y/n is on the far right and stood further back. In the first photo, Arthur is looking over his shoulder and smiling across at y/n as her eyes are on the camera. When she swipes across, the next photo shows her looking sweetly at Arthur while he smiled at the camera. Arthur chuckles quietly as y/n bites her lips between her teeth.

“We can’t keep our eyes off each other, what do you suppose that means?” He asks genuinely, tilting his head. He reaches for his phone and takes a long inhaled breath as he brushes over her fingers with his.

Her heart skips a beat as his hand lingers on hers for a couple of seconds. “I… I don’t know,” she replies, now struggling to keep eye contact. “I can’t speak for you, but for me personally I-”

“Sorry to interrupt baes,” Hill interjects awkwardly, “but George is hangry again and I thought we could head to a bakery and chill for a bit before checking out the night life.” Arthur’s eyes were wide, but soften into a more polite look, trying to hide his disappointment. Y/n on the other hand is relieved because she isn’t sober enough to find the right words yet.

They all head to a cake shop nearby, Hill talking Arthur and James’s heads off while George keeps y/n company.

“I’m sorry if my greed ruined any hashtag y/nTV moments back there,” George whispers, “it was looking quite serious, but my stomach is literally rumbling.” He isn't kidding.

“It’s OK really, I suck at serious conversations,” she mumbles back. She goes on to tell him what happened.

“Arthur gives hints really well, but he sucks at taking them,” George explains with a shrug, “if you can’t find the words, maybe you can show him with actions?” This gives y/n food for thought. Her mind starts racing with what she can do rather than what she can say.

“Thank you Clarkey.” She quickly gives his forearm a grateful squeeze.

George is the only one who orders at the bakery, the others not feeling up to eating anything sweet at that moment. It becomes pretty clear how George can throw back so many drinks but remain relatively sober compared to the others. It’s a smart tactic.

While George munches away, Arthur plays a game of chess on his phone. Y/n watches over his shoulder, both of them in total silence. Meanwhile, Hill scrolls through his phone, looking for karaoke bars and nightclubs, feeling in the mood to sing and dance.

"There isn't much available in terms of night time fun..." Hill murmurs, "But we could catch an 8 minute train to Maidstone, which seems to have more to offer for us youngsters."

George wipes his lips, "Yeah I'm down for that mate."

"Same here," y/n chimes in with a smile. They all look to Arthur, but he's too engrossed in his match. Sensing the silence, he peers up to see everyone's eyes on him. He blinks for a couple of seconds before nodding too, although he's not entirely sure what he just signed up for.

They make their short walk to the station, the train arriving at the perfect time. Sitting in a six-seater area, Hill explains to the camera: "We are heading to Maidstone now, they seem to have more things for us to do there."

Arthur, who is sat next to Hill and opposite y/n, whips his phone back out to play more online chess. George and y/n try tallying up their drinks so far and talk about the best part of Aylesford.

"I liked Little Gem, it was really cozy and cute." Y/n stated with a smile. It's the only moment on the short train ride that makes Arthur look away from his phone. George crosses his arms with a smug look on his face.

"I enjoyed that place too," he adds, "yeah, I saw a really cute couple share an intimate moment there. It was nice to see." His grin grows wider. It's the kind of statement that's only innocent to those who aren't aware of the context, the clever prat. Arthur, back to staring at his phone at this point, widens his eyes for a brief moment. Until now, he didn't know that George saw him peck y/n's cheek.

"I liked scoping out the MILFs at the social club." Hill adds, smiling playfully.

"Oh my goodness..." Arthur mutters, shaking his head.

They arrive at Maidstone and head straight for the Wetherspoons nearby, being only a two minute walk away.

"Ah, another one of your famous hikes ey Arthur?" George quips to Hill as they all walk, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yep, I'm thinking of renaming this series to 'long-walk roulette'." He replies, matching George's tone.

Meanwhile, James captures shots of the four walking together, with y/n and Arthur closer to the camera. "Did you win your match?" Y/n asks him.

"Yeah, although I think it'll be my last game of the day now we're drinking even more." He chuckles in response.

Reaching the pub, named The Society Rooms, Hill heads to the bar with James as the other three find a quieter spot outside. Hill orders a bunch of shots on a tray again, and carries them out to the group.

Donning a mischievous smirk, he declares: "Who's up for a game of 'say it or shot it'?" George pinches his nose bridge.

"We basically played this in Aylesford." He grumbles.

"No Georgie baby, that was 'never have I ever'." Hill scolds in a soft motherly tone. "You can go first then." Passing a shot to George.

"Fine by me, sugar tits." He mumbles back, holding the shot ready.

"George," Hill begins, "who, out of the women you've collaborated with, do you think is the most attractive?" George thinks for a second, before taking his shot.

"Y/n," Hill turns his attention to her and hands her a shot, "what's the name of the creator you collaborated with that you HATED?"

Sighing, she shakes her head. "I didn't hate them." She mumbles, but takes her shot anyway, her eyes getting heavy.

"Right then, Mr Television... Would you give up chess for sex?" Hill asks, the sudden randomness catching the others off guard.

"Oh my god!" Arthur yells in shock. He looks at his shot and pauses, "I do love chess, but yes. I would." His face begins to burn up again as he avoids looking at y/n.

"OK then Hill," George says, having a think of an annoying question to ask, "what's the name of the last girl whose DMs you have a'slid?"

"Fuck that." Hill immediately replies, downing his shot.

The game lasts quite a while, almost getting enough footage for an entire separate video, the sky now dark. George slides one of the last remaining shots to y/n, he stares at her through narrowed eyes, "Y/n."

"Yes George."

"Out of everyone here, who would you rather bang?"

Arthur's mouth falls open as Hill lets out an "Ooooooooo"

Y/n laughs and miraculously thinks fast. "Out of you three or everyone on the premises?"

George lets out a chuckle. "This table." He doubles down.

Y/n exhales slowly, looking around at the three men as if she doesn't already know. Arthur watches her intently, he swallows when she locks eyes on him. She teases them. "I think..." She starts, taking a long pause before downing the shot and smiling smugly. The boys all react disappointedly, just as she hoped.

Hill picks up the remaining shot and places it in front of Arthur. "Arthur, is there anyone you've collaborated with that you would love to make sweet love with"? He leans back in his chair, proud of his question.

Arthur folds his arms, wearing a casual smile. "Yes." He simply answers. The other three go wide eyed.

"Who?" Hill asks.

"I've already answered my question, it's someone else's turn now." Arthur states, moving the shot away, pleased with himself. The disappointment nearly smacks Hill across the face.

Hill, slightly annoyed he didn't get a funnier reaction our of Arthur, passes the shot to George. "Clarkey, how big is your willy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." he replies with a wink.

They head to a nearby cocktail bar name Social Chill Bar, to get 'white girl wasted' as Hill puts it, although it's safe to say they are all already quite drunk at this point. Within the 4 minute walk, George manages to walk into a lamppost, Arthur attempts to climb up a different lamppost, and y/n trips over her own feet. All of which is caught on camera.

Spotting the bar up ahead, George tells the others to look sharp, so they don't get turned away for being too drunk already. It works, although Arthur gets IDed again, another fantastic moment for the video. George immediately heads for the toilets, whereas Hill heads to the bar with James to buy a couple of pitchers. Y/n and Arthur pick a table that's tucked more away from the others.

"IDed again Arthur, now I've got the ick." Y/n jokes. Arthur rests his arm on the table, twisting his upper body to face her.

"Hmm," he taps her arm playfully, "that would mean you were into me beforehand." He quips before hiccupping. The pair start giggling.

"Touché," is all y/n can muster as the laughter dies down. Hill and James join the table.

"Where's Clarkey?" Hill asks, "Having his famous Clarkey shit?"

"Probably, he is in the toilets." Y/n replies, amused. However as if on cue, George emerges.

The group all giggle and make jokes as they share two pitches between them. Due to a loud hen party that also enter the bar, they don't spend too long or record too much.

"There's a karaoke bar like a minute walk away from here." Hill informs the table. They're all keen and work on their 'sober' look to ensure they get in that pub too.

Standing out side the Royal Albion pub, Hill decides to do his outro there as the bar is blaring copyrighted music. The four say good bye to the camera, followed by a good bye and thank you to James, who kindly declines the offer to join them and gets an Uber home.

They successfully enter the pub, which is quite lively as they four nab themselves a table near the karaoke area. Y/n and Hill go to the bar to order drinks, y/n ordering her go-to and a Southern Comfort for Arthur.

Meanwhile at the table, Arthur is sat next to George and can't contain it anymore. "I'm in love with y/n," he blurts out.

George laughs at the sudden statement. "Steady on Arthur, you've only met her once before."

"Yes," Arthur holds his finger up in a 'well actually' way, "but we've been texting nearly everyday since we first met, and even played games online together."

"Fair enough mate," George shrugs, happy for him, "but what are you gonna do about it?" Arthur curls his finger and dabs it against his mouth while he ponders.

While waiting for their drinks to be made, Hill turns to y/n with a snigger. "You ready to watch Arthur dance? It'll be make or break for you."

"I've seen plenty of clips online already, he sure can throw that ass back." Y/n replies as they both chuckle. The bartender hands them their drinks as they search for their table.

A drunk woman approaches the mic and sings a very original rendition of Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'. The four sway at their table, while random couples slow dance. "I'm gonna put some songs and names down, who's up for singing?" Hill asks. Arthur is quick to put his hand up, whereas George and y/n shake their heads.

"I'd need to be at least thrice as pissed." Y/n explains apologetically, "But I'm up for dancing." The two Arthurs go up to the table where they write down their songs, Hill explains to the karaoke host that one of the songs he wants to sing is his own and he'll use the instrumental saved on his phone and hold it near the microphone. The host is intrigued and allows it.

When they rejoin the table, y/n asks what they're going to sing. "It's a surprise." Hill grins before Arthur can answer. They spend the next few minutes being entertained by the mixture of singers, some good, some bad. George takes a fancy to a cute girl who sang 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift and after some encouragement from the three, he approaches her when she's at the bar.

"Next up with have Arthur Hill with 'You're Beautiful'!" The host calls out. Y/n and Arthur cheer him as he approaches the microphone. As the instrumental plays, Arthur stands up, adjusts his shirt, then extends a hand to y/n. "Wanna dance?" He asks, his face donning a sweet smile.

Of course, y/n accepts the invitation. She takes his hand, the contact still feeling as electric as it does sober, as they join the other pairs that are already dancing. Arthur's not quite sure where to put his hands, so y/n gently takes them and places them at her waist, she then rests her hands on his broad shoulders. He chuckles shyly at her and begins swaying with her, copying what the other couples are doing.

'She smiled at me on the subway She was with another man'

Spending a lot of time looking at their feet so he doesn't tread on her, Arthur's cheeks begin to ache from smiling. As they slowly rotate, y/n locks eyes with Hill. He winks at her while still singing effortlessly.

'But I won't lose no sleep on that 'Cause I've got a plan'

Arthur looks back up to y/n as he quietly sings along, his glossy eyes peering lovingly into hers. "You're beautiful" the sweetness causing y/n to giggle as she starts singing along too.

'I saw your face in a crowded place And I don't know what to do'

Arthur not wanting to sing the next lyric, pulls y/n flush against him as they continue to slow dance. A little winded, she instinctively hugs her arms around his waist. He then readjusts so his arms are wrapped on top of hers and lowers his chin onto her shoulder.

As the song continues, Arthur clasps his hand around y/n's wrist and gently pulls her arm out so he can hold her hand, still holding each other with the other arms. They sway like this for the rest of the song, Arthur singing along to "You're beautiful" again into y/n's ear in a low, soothing voice. She can feel his heart thud against her as he draws small circles against the side of her hand with his thumb, and she's certain he can hear her heartbeat over the speakers. They dance like this for the rest of the song, both with their eyes closed contently.

George, while still sitting up at the bar with the swiftie, records Hill as he sings, then records a separate video of the lovebirds dancing together. He uploads the clip of Hill to his story, captioning it with 'never heard him sing this before', but sends the other video to y/n and Arthur privately. "They're in love, but they haven't confessed to each other yet." He whispers to the sweet girl, while casually leaning on the bar top. She likes this hopeless romantic side to him and gives him her Instagram handle.

When the song ends, y/n and Arthur pull away from each other, gazing into each others eyes as the rest of the pub guests applaud Hill. Arthur puts his hand to his chest and makes an exaggerated 'phew', his dorky way of joking with her about how nervous he was. Her left hand still clasped onto his right, she giggles at his wholesomeness.

The host congratulates Hill on his rendition of the song. "And next up we have... Arthur... TV, with 'She's So Lovely'!''

Arthur is snapped out of his daze, "Oh! It's my turn!" He shrieks, his voice far too loud now the song is over. He gives y/n's hand a squeeze and jogs to the 'stage' area.

He clasps the microphone and clears his throat. "Hi, this song is dedicated to someone amazing I met a few months-" he's cut off by the song starting, he shrugs and laughs. The girl George was talking to joins her friends to dance, so he jogs to y/n to dance with her, as does Hill. Arthur's eyes switch between looking shyly at the floor and peering over at y/n as she dances with two of his best friends. A smile evident in his voice every time he watches her laugh as they twirl her around and sing along. Y/n can't believe how good he sings, his voice soft as ever and hitting every key, except for the odd occasion where his voice breaks.

George steps away to record Arthur singing, to put this on his story too. No caption this time, just tagging Arthur and the pub. Hill grabs y/n's hands and swings their arms side to side. Before the song is even finished, George shows y/n the number of replies to his story with speculations about she's there and if Arthur's singing about her. In the video, it's obvious he had his eyes on someone, except for when he looked at George's phone, but y/n was out of view the whole time.

When the song is over the pub give him a round of applause, with y/n, George, and Hill cheering him extra loud. Arthur takes an awkward little bow and rejoins his friends. "That was amazing!" Y/n screams, the clapping dying down.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, really." He gently pats her on the back, unable to draw his eyes away from her. Another person begins singing another Taylor Swift song, so George quickly peers around for his 'pub girl'. He spots her running back to the dance floor with her friends and she waves him over. He's gone in a flash. "Ohh I span too much," Hill groans as he sits back down at their table, his face turning pale.

"Do you want some water Hilly?" Y/n asks him caringly. He exhales out a risky burp and nods his head.

"I'll grab it, you keep an eye on him. D'you want another drink?" Arthur kindly offers. Y/n wobbles a little as she takes a seat next to Hill and rests her hand on his shoulder.

"I think I've had enough for tonight, maybe a water for me too please?" Y/n replies, patting her stomach with her free hand.

"Good point, three waters it is then." Arthur grins as he weaves around the dancers to get to the bar.

Y/n checks her phone to see the notification from George. She opens the video of her and Arthur slow dancing. As his face pivoted into view, her heart melts at how happy he looked. His head tilted and rested against hers, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly upturned at the corners. She then watches how safe and secure she looked as her face came in view. "He's a really good guy," Hill slurs, peering over at her screen, "if you don't date him, I will." Y/n laughs as she hearts George's message.

"Oh Arthur," Y/n replies, sighing.

"Seriously though, girls have screwed him over in the past. And these are girls he only liked a little bit." He hiccups then clears his throat, taking y/n's hand and gently swinging it around. "With you, he's just... different. In a good way."

"I really like him." Y/n mumbles, chuckling as she watches Hill continue to pull her hand around. "But I need to hear it from him, and soberly preferably. I mean, I might just seem good through the beer goggles." She sniggers.

Hill shakes his head. "No, no, no. He talks about you all the fucking time y/n, drink or no drink. Trust me, he really likes you."

They spot Arthur awkwardly juggling three glasses of water towards their table. "Speaking of the devil!" Hill croaks, immediately downing half the glass.

"Oh no, what were you guys saying?" Arthur asks, his voice riddled with a nervous laugh as his eyes dart between the two of them. Y/n gestures as if it was nothing, but Hill has other ideas.

"Just about how much you like y/n." He bluntly states with a shrug. Arthur and y/n's eyes go wide.

"W-what? What d'you mean?" Arthur stutters, spraying a little water.

"Yeah," Hill smirks, shrugging again, "you know, you think she's a great content creator. That's all." He then gulps down the rest of this water and exhales loudly. "Thanks guys, I feel much better." Sliding his glass to the far end of the table, he then gets up and excuses himself.

“That was weird,” Arthur says, raising an eyebrow. He takes a seat next to y/n as another singer takes the stage. “How come you want to stop drinking? Are you not having fun anymore?”

“Actually it’s the opposite,” y/n giggles, “I don’t want to forget how fun today’s been and if I drink any more, I’ll probably black out.”

“That’s fair enough.” Arthur relaxes and a smile grows back on his face.

George returns to the table. “Hey you two, on the water already?”

“Yep, I was just telling Arthur that I’m having too much fun and don’t want to forget the day.” Y/n replies.

“Oh yeah, I remember you told me once, that alcohol doesn’t wipe your memory but stops you creating them, right?” George queries.

Y/n nods, “that’s right.”

“You are aware that most of today was caught on camera though.” George replies, to which y/n starts laughing into her hand.

George peers to the empty seat next to y/n. “Where’s Hill?”

“The other Arthur has gone to the toilet I think.” Y/n replies.

“Shit. I better make sure he hasn’t passed out or something, I think it’ll be his turn to sing again soon.” George hurries to the toilets. Arthur shifts his chair closer to y/n.

“So, if he’s the ‘other Arthur’, does that make me ‘Arthur number one’?” He asks, wearing a cheeky smile as he drums her arm with his fingers.

“Of course, you’re always number one.” Y/n wholeheartedly replies. Arthur’s eyebrows arch upwards as he lets out a quiet ‘aww’. He squeezes her hand.

“I know I’ve said this already but I’m so glad you came today. I was worried all the comments and posts about us would put you off, honestly.” Arthur explains, his words still slightly slurring.

“Oh no, not at all! I get shipped with everyone.” Y/n awkwardly chuckles in response. “Although not as much as with you.”

“Indeed.” Arthur slowly nods, his heavy eyes focusing on her lips. “It’s because you’re so good to everyone.”

George rejoins the pair. “The karaoke host is kindly letting Arthur plug his phone into their laptop, so his backing track will play on the speakers properly.” He explains.

“That’s really generous!” Arthur replies enthusiastically.

George nods as he takes his seat. “That’s where he’s been, not dead on the bathroom floor like I thought.”

The host reintroduces Hill to the stage, explaining that he’ll be singing his own song, which greatly interests the crowd. “I’m gonna find my sweet swiftie.” George shouts as he darts off.

“Shall we dance again?” Arthur asks y/n, standing to his feet and offering his arm.

She stands too, looping her arm with his. “I thought you’d never ask!” She yells in a jokey tone. Arthur leads her to a secluded corner by one of the speakers, hoping to have a little privacy.

‘I started learning piano Just so I could write songs about you’

They arrange themselves into another slow dance position. Arthur’s left hand on her waist and with the other, gently holding her left hand up and out to their side, y/n rests her free hand on his shoulder again. They sway in total bliss to Hill’s beautiful love song. Arthur mouths the words to y/n, gazing deeply into her eyes with a soft look. She feels a warm swirly feeling in her chest, which both surprises her and soothes her at the same time.

Never would y/n have ever pictured her adult self bar hopping and getting drunk with friends, only to end the night with slow dancing, especially with someone like Arthur. But she’s never met anyone like him before, and neither has he with her.

Y/n spots George with the cute girl he’s been chatting to throughout the night, they look really sweet together as he peers down at her with rosy cheeks, them in a similar dance position. Y/n gestures towards them with her head, and Arthur looks over his shoulder. The pair slow to a halt and watch for a while, although they still have an arm around each other.

“He looks so smitten and happy!” Y/n calls out over the music, her eyes still locked on them proudly. Arthur turns his head to look down at his dance partner.

“Yeah.” He whispers with a soft smile, although y/n can’t hear him over the speakers. He hesitates before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips buried in her hair. She beams, her pulse quickening.

They resume their dancing as the second chorus comes on.

‘I don’t want you, I crave you I fucking need you’

Arthur stares at y/n through hooded eyelids, the ‘need you’ part really hitting home for him. Y/n returns his gaze, noticing a slight change in his facial expression, but isn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

‘Your face is at the forefront Your name grips onto my tongue’

His eyes a little glossy, he looks deeply into both her eyes, darting between the two. His face drops slightly, donning a nervous expression as the next words are sung:

‘But I’m too scared to ask If I’m buried at the back’

Sensing his hesitation, y/n lurches up and plants quick a kiss to Arthur’s lips. He reciprocates, and when she stands flat again, he stares at her for a couple of seconds, a half smile fading onto his face. It felt exactly how he dreamt it would.

‘I don’t want you, I crave you'

He lets go of her briefly only to cup her cheeks as he crashes his lips down into hers.

'I fucking need you’

Their lips slowly but passionately work in rhythm as y/n wraps her arms around his torso. One of his hands slides up to grip the hair at the back of her head, the other wraps around her shoulders, holding her tighter. He turns his head slightly so he can pull her even closer as he deepens this kiss, his nose digs into her cheek and his stubble tickles her skin, but she welcomes the feelings. She tastes his Southern Comfort and he tastes her drink, creating a cocktail of their own. The flashing colourful lights of the pub reflect the fireworks in her head.

The song finishes, as does their kiss. They pull away from each other, breathless, still in each others embrace. There’s a shared look of adoration in each others eyes, mixed with something else. Want. Arthur’s eyes appear darker than usual, peering down as his mouth is still slightly open. Y/n looks up at him through her eyelashes.

The applause from the other pub folk snaps them back to reality, a soft shy smile creeping on Arthur’s lips as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind y/n’s ear. Y/n can’t help but giggle, goosebumps lining her skin.

They make their way back to the small crowd. George’s babe says good bye to him as she leaves with her friends, not before she gestures at her phone to him.

Once they’re gone, George turns back to y/n and Arthur as Hill rejoins them.

“Finally!” George bellows, a grin on his face.

“Aw George, did you get a kiss?” Y/n asks sweetly, heart still racing as Arthur puts an arm around her waist.

“No,” George smirks, “but I know who did.” He holds his phone up to show a photo of y/n and Arthur. The picture looks so romantic, like it was from a romcom.

“Oh my!” Hill shrieks, his eyes wide but accompanied with a smirk.

Y/n and Arthur look at him with a mix of surprise and embarrassment, and a small hint of pride.

“Don’t worry guys, I took it. I spotted you making out when my girl went to grab her drink.” He says as he forwards the picture to them both. “Just remember to give me photo cred when you hard launch to the world.”

Arthur and y/n look to each other and share a laugh, the tension seeping out.

“Proud of you mate,” Hill says as he slaps Arthur’s back. “Wish you’d done it during recording so my video could go viral, but whatever.’

The group decide to head back to the station soon after, with Hill’s queasiness creeping back up on him. The train rides are pretty quiet, most of creators exhausted from the day, except Arthur. He talks the majority of the time, with y/n listening intently and nodding, all the while scanning through the photos she’d taken throughout the day. George is scrolling through his story replies, Hill has fallen asleep with his head gently rattling against the window.

Sitting beside her, Arthur leans across. “When did you take that?” He asks, pointing at a photo of y/n from outside the Aylesford Friars.

“George took that, I think while you were learning Aylesford trivia.” She giggles in response.

“It’s beautiful.” Arthur replies with a smile. He then watches her scroll through the rest of the day’s photos and videos, landing on the pic she’d saved of their sweet kiss.

“Wow.” He mutters, leaning even closer to her. “That was amazing.” He then whispers, almost seductively.

“Get a room.” Hill groans, his eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah, or at least a different carriage.” George mumbles.

Arthur huffs and sits up straight, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Saw you dancing away with your pub girl.” He says to George.

“Yeah, tell us all about her.” Y/n chimes in, leaning forward on the small plastic table and resting her chin on her hands. Hill grumbles and seemingly dozes off again, as George tells what sounds like the beginning of a modern love story.

When they arrive back home, George and Hill say their good byes to the pair, after Arthur kindly offers y/n a walk back to hers.

Y/n, seemingly a little more sobered up, feels the cold of the British night hit her fast. She tried to hide it, but Arthur can tell. “Oh, here.” Before she even looks at him, his hoodie is off and he hands it to her.

“What? Won’t you be cold?” She asks bashfully.

“Absolutely not,” Arthur kindly replies, looking at the floor as they walk, “I have enough alcohol in my system to keep me warm.”

Y/n stops for a moment while she slips it over her head, that familiar aftershave once again embracing her senses. “And besides, I’m still a little heated from earlier.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows as they continue.

She swats at his arm playfully as she laughs. “I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.” She states.

“What’s not to enjoy?” He looks at her, “the hottest girl in the world giving you the best kiss in the world?” The evening just gets better and better.

“You’re too kind. It was really good though.” She hugs herself a little tighter, butterflies fill her stomach as she remember this kiss vividly.

They continue walking in a comfortable silence, Arthur reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “We’re quite close to my place actually,” he starts, his voice low and pensive, “if you’d like to come over?”

Y/n hums as she thinks about it. “I don’t see why not, I kept my schedule clear over the next few days in case I needed to crash at someone’s. Or recover.”

“My… my roommates are out of town too, so it would be just us.” He shyly adds, peering down at her with darkened eyes. Interesting.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART FOUR]

A/n: Thank you for the support and for reading again hehe, I'm sorry this took so long but I've been so swamped with work recently If you're from Aylesford or Maidstone, I apologise in advance if I butchered your town... part 4? 👀 ♥ Tag list: @ooostarwarsfandom501st @themdera @rougetv @essieswurld - Gabby xo

[konigofmyheart]

long way down ᥫ᭡ pt 3

MDNI!!!

part 1 ᥫ᭡ part 2

könig's been a big help in your scheme to get benji (your ex) back, but is that what you even want now?

(virgin fem!reader, implied age gap: reader is mid 20's, reader's ex is: pushy talking about sex (not graphic though <3), manipulative, toxic, and controlling in a flashback . aside from that, general fluff with könig! smut coming in part 4; sorry to make y'all wait but it got away from me >.<) word count: ~5k...

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

you finally see him in full, his mask having apparently fallen off during the night. you’re not surprised to find the könig you conjured in your head- after piecing together his self-descriptions and stories- matches what’s in front of you. you smile as your gaze traces over his crooked nose, the white scar slashing through the left side of his bottom lip, a thicker one stretching from his temple to the front of his eyebrow, a fresher looking scar dashed across the apple of his right cheek- you could lay here for hours memorizing every detail of his face, the ruggedness of years of this work contrasting endearingly with the peaceful expression on his sleeping face… well, formerly peaceful as he wakes with a start, snorting a little when he practically scrabbles to get out of the bed.

“gott im himmel, i’m so sorry, schatzi!” he rumbles, sleep clinging to every syllable as he tries to figure out how to slip out from under you without touching you. you laugh softly, patting his chest like he’s some startled horse. “no, no, it’s okay, könig, really! i’m the one who woke up using you as a body pillow. i move around a lot in my sleep…” you explain, as he fishes his mask out from the blankets, slipping it back on before tentatively laying his hand on your back again. you can feel his heart pounding through his chest, a steady rhythm against your palm.

“are you sure? it’s just- i thought you would not like being close to me like this…” he says quietly, trailing off like he’s half hoping you won’t even hear him.

“wha- is it because of the whole i’m a virgin thing?” you ask, the blanket pooling around your lap as you sit up to look at him. könig nods sheepishly, a terse movement like he's worried he’s touched a nerve there. he visibly relaxes once you laugh and playfully swat at his chest “oh, könig! you’re so- yes, i’m still a virgin, but it’s not because i’ve vowed to never touch a man or anything that serious! i’m just a little scared, is all… what if it hurts or something?” you say, your voice growing quieter at the end.

now he turns to look at you, such an earnest expression in his baby blue eyes as he too sits up in bed, the frame creaking with his movement. “it should not hurt much if it’s done- properly and carefully, schatzi…”

“tell that to benji”, you say, rolling your eyes and hugging your arms to yourself.

there’s the slightest lick of contempt in your voice as you say his name, and though it initially makes a spark of hope ignite in könig’s chest, the massive wave of concern that follows snuffs it out. “he hurt you?” he asks carefully, his hands subconsciously tightening their grip on the sheets, his entire body tensing like a drawn bow. he’s certainly fully awake now, waiting for your response with bated breath. if stevens did something to you-

“no! well- not physically… he’d been hounding me about it for weeks, sending me some wild videos he’d found on random sites of couples having rough sex, and he’d say he wanted to do the same with me. i’d try to laugh if off, being like ‘but you’d be gentler, right?’ and he’d just laugh too, as if the idea was ridiculous. he said as much when i finally got the nerve to confront him directly. i told him i’d never feel comfortable enough to have sex with him if he didn’t stop with the videos- if he didn’t promise he’d be careful with me- then he practically blew up, launching into a whole rant about how i was basically asking for him to leave, that i was such a shit girlfriend for not being willing to do this one little thing for him… i started crying, because he was being so hurtful and because i somehow actually felt guilty that i couldn’t make him happy. he stormed out after yelling at me for a good while, and that’s how we ended up the way we are now…”

könig is so still and silent when you finally turn to look at him after a couple of seconds, his unblinking eyes- locked on to the far wall- so icy blue you swear you shiver a little.

“i know it’s a bit of a pathetic story, but i didn’t think it’d be that bad” you joke awkwardly, hoping that lifts the mood and snaps him out of it. what happened wasn’t even that big of a deal, you shouldn’t have offloaded it on könig like that; he has bigger things to worry about than some dumb argument-

“i am so sorry you had to experience that, liebe. you didn’t deserve that- no one does.” he finally says, carefully taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently.

something in your chest fractures at the gentleness of his tone, the knit of his eyebrows as he looks at you with such sincerity and what you can only describe as love that it makes hot tears brim in your eyes as everything finally clicks into place: you’d dedicated years of your life to being benji’s. you’d watch every step, consider every word, practically count each breath so you wouldn’t do the wrong thing and upset him. you’d tailored every aspect of your life to best suit him, even before you’d started officially dating. you’d apologize for “always starting shit” when you’d try to speak up for yourself, when you’d say you deserved to have friends and to have hobbies and to make decisions on your own. you were right all those times you said he was too controlling, no matter all the lies he tried to tangle you up in so you wouldn’t notice. you’d always thought relationships were simply like that, that the constant ache in your chest was because of love, that his need to be centered in your life was normal- yet that wasn’t true. even in this fake relationship with könig, you’d always been respected, downright revered. your wishes were always heard and followed, every thought you spoke was thoroughly considered by him, every one of his touches gentle and always welcome by you because he never overstepped… you couldn’t fathom könig doing even a fourth of the things benjamin did. könig would never speak to you so rudely, never be pushy, never treat you like he owned you. benjamin made you live an existence of arguments and tears, feeling such guilt and shame for not tending to his needs- that you let him control everything else out of fear he’d leave, and he did so anyway, blaming you…

“benjamin fucking sucks,” you breathe, blinking away tears that blur your vision as you look up at könig. the two of you come together like a puzzle, könig wrapping you in a hug as you cling to him, holding on to his solid form as you laugh a little incredulously, questioning everything you ever thought was true love. you’re so thankful könig’s here, holding you together, murmuring soft honeyed words into your hair, exactly what you need at this moment. there’s a reason you’d never dared to say that story out loud before. you knew you had to face the ugly truth if you did: benjamin has never once cared about you, only himself.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

könig quietly closed the door to his room, not wanting to wake you as you dozed off again after such an emotional morning. you’d cried it all out, finally voicing aloud every time stevens had been a dick, and könig had listened intently, his heart clenching at the thought of you experiencing that though all the years you’ve known stevens. könig did his best to cheer you up after, providing more out-in-the-field stories when you asked for a distraction, even able to draw a couple laughs from you when he told the story of that time he sat on a cactus, until you’d settled again.

he almost whined when you sent him off to work, shaking his head when you said you’d taken up enough of his time as is. you didn’t buy a single one of his excuses, knowing he was only putting off work today because he was worried about you, but you assured him you felt a lot better having talked about it, that you’d just hang out, nap, maybe visit stiletto. really, you just didn’t want to even hear stevens’ breathing right now; you were so disgusted with him. könig didn’t either. he’d rather prefer if stevens wasn’t breathing at all after your story, but you specifically asked him to not bring it up again, much less tell anyone else.

he’d never betray your privacy like that, not after you trusted him with such a delicate topic, but, god, did he want to punch stevens’ face in- “hey, man!” came horangi’s voice from behind him. könig quickly shushed him, jerking his thumb at the door. “oh, shit, sorry. your girl is still sleeping, aye? you tired her out or what?” horangi whispered, a dumb grin on his face. it wasn’t everyday he got an opportunity to tease könig like this, but was it really worth the heavy-handed slap to the back of the head könig rewarded him with?

“shut up, kim,” könig grumbled as he made his was to his office.

“ease up, i was just kidding- besides, tonight's old kev’s retirement party, remember? i know you’re not much for gatherings, but you can take notes for your own upcoming retirement party, and you can introduce your girl to the best bar in the whole city. it’s a win-win!"

“i’m going to ignore that first part, but yes, it would be nice to take my schatzi… i’ll ask her later, once she’s up” könig mused, internally wondering if you’d even be up for such a thing today. he could just forget the party, stay in with you and watch cheesy movies if the nap didn’t help your mood, but what if you did actually want to go? then it’d be rude of him to not mention it to you, wouldn’t it? yet he didn’t want you to feel pressured into going- his own head was a mess after all you’d told him…. at least he had until the end of the day to figure it out, no?

they’d arrived at his office by now, horangi quickly making himself at home in one of the chairs facing the desk. könig sat in his chair, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “is there anything else or…?”

it’s never a good thing when horangi gets serious, especially when the sunglasses come off, the clink of them against the desk ringing through the room like the toll of a bell. “look- i’ve been hearing… stories, from the recruits. they’re saying your girl had something with stevens before. not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, but i thought you should know…” horangi rushed out, interlacing his fingers as he leaned back in the chair.

“yes…and?” asked könig, the tension leaving his body upon realizing it wasn’t a new problem.

“...you already knew?” 

könig nudged his mouse, entering his password to check his emails. “of course, she told me about it when we bumped into him here.” he lied smoothly.

“oh, good.,” horangi let out a relieved sigh, making a show of shaking out his hands and legs. “i’d been worried for a bit there, and stiletto was going on and on about how i shouldn’t butt in, but what kind of brother would i be if i didn’t tell you, yeah?”

“do i give the impression that i would have a problem with that? that i’d want her less or something?” könig scoffed, side eyeing horangi as he typed out a response to a query about ammunition stock.

“no, not at all. i was that worried because i see the way you look at her, like you’ve been knocked on the head and she’s the only thing you remember. you’re in deep, man.”

könig smiled under his mask, your face suddenly overlaying his screen as he pictured you. “that i am.”

horangi barked out a laugh, slipping his glasses back on. “i didn’t even know you were capable of being that soft- thought you’d be a lonely old dog forever-”

“get out of my office, kim."

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

you slipped out of könig’s room, making sure to lock the door behind you with the spare key he’d left on the bedside table next to the tv remote, a little “at my office. if you need me just call, schatzi- for anything.  i’ll bring lunch” scrawled on a slip of paper, alongside a wonky looking smiley face. you can’t help but return the doodled smile, your heart lifting at the comfort of even his handwriting.

you were pretty conflicted this morning, untangling your mind from all the lies benjamin fed you over the years, so much so you turned down breakfast, but now you really just wanted to stop thinking about that- about him- all together. he didn’t deserve an ounce of your energy. he never did, you'd thought, making your way to könig’s attached bathroom to wash up and depuff your eyes from all the crying. you had put on yesterday’s clothes when you were done, absentmindedly wondering if you should do a quick trip to your place to get more clothes, but then again…

would you still be staying here?

you and könig did your show last night, proving to benjamin you did stay the night, but did you even care what he thought anymore? since this morning you haven’t thought a single good thing about him, and why would you? it was looking more and more like it was time to call this whole thing off- you certainly didn’t want benjamin back anymore- but you didn’t want to blindside könig like that. you’d speak to him this evening, then it’d be done, you decided as you were stepping out.

you double checked that his door was locked and slipped the keys into your pocket before making your way to stiletto’s room, following the instructions she messaged you, the shorts she lent you rolled up in your hand. you’re so thankful benjamin doesn’t really have a reason to be out here in the private room’s area right now, because the last thing you want is to see him. still, you can’t help but feel a constant shiver along your spine as you make your way to stiletto’s, only her smiling face when she opens her door settling you again.

your “hi!” and her “bella!” overlap as she lets you in, a playful smile on her face.

“look at you all tired from last night! i won’t even ask what you were up to,” she teases, smiling even wider at the blush on your face. you always hated you could flush so easily, but right now it’s convenient because it helps sell the story, at least for this final leg of the show.

“oh, stiletto! enough, i just came to hang out. well that, and to ask where the laundry room is, so i can go wash the shorts you so kindly lent me.”

“ah, don’t worry about it, bella. i got it,” stiletto says, taking the shorts from your hand and tossing them across the room into a half full hamper. “do you need to borrow more clothes- for the party tonight?” she gently takes your hands guiding you to sit on the edge of her bed with her, the mattress dipping.

“party?” you ask, racking your mind in case könig told you and you just forgot, what with everything going on.

“your man didn’t tell you? oh, quello stupido. it’s nothing big, just a retirement thing for a guy who probably grew up with könig” she laughs at her own joke, bracing her hands on the bed as she leans back. “i’m mainly going because i’d never turn down a drink at the black dog-”

the door creaks open and horangi strolls in, his mask tucked under his chin as he snacks on some chips. “hey, stiletto-” 

“stronzo, knock first! how many times do i have to tell you?”

“ugh, as if i’d want to see anything- you’d have locked the door if you were changing anyway- oh, hey!” he grins as he finally turns to see you, instantly offering his bag to you. you thank him and take a handful, laughing when stiletto reaches for some too, only to be met with a slap to her hand. in a flash she’s snatched the whole bag from him, making a big show of shovelling a handful in her mouth as horangi watches in mock horror. “this is why i don’t share with you, you always do this-”

“it”s what you get for not knocking” stiletto quips back, looking so smug as she hugs the bag to herself.

yeah, it’s safe to say your mood has completely improved watching these two bicker like toddlers. you’re really going to miss them once you leave…you can’t help but let out a quiet little sigh at the thought of never seeing them, or könig, again. maybe you could still be friends, somehow? what would they think once they heard it was all fake though…

“so?” asks hornagi, fully focused on you after accepting the loss of his chips. you blink in surprise, looking to stiletto for help.

“he asked if you were going to the party tonight” she supplies around another mouthful.

“oh! um, i actually don’t know… isn’t it like a work thing?”

horangi waves you off, settling to lean against stiletto’s dresser. “ah, old kev won’t mind. he said we could invite anyone; the more the merrier... könig’s down”. 

you hum as you think, wondering if you should just make some excuse up. what would be the point of you going? könig has done enough as is, letting you take up most of his days all for a goal that you don’t even care about anymore. how could you intrude on a work thing too? he probably wants to spend time with his friends, maybe even meet someone new at this place. you can’t help but feel a pang at the thought, but you don’t even know why. there’s no point to keeping up the act, the very thought of benjamin makes you nauseous now, so you really should just leave this place behind as soon as possible. it’s only logical, but why does it hurt so much? 

“come on, bella, the big guy only agreed because of you! he’s only attended these things like twice before. i just know he’d love to show you the black dog! it’s our second home away from home,” stiletto insists, making to take your hand but stopping when she catches the crumbs coating her hand.

“you think? maybe…”

“we’re sure”, says horangi, nodding at you. “at least if you go, he wouldn’t just be glaring from a corner like the rare times he has gone. i’ve never seen him so happy as when you’re around.”

“okay, i’m down, too, then.” you say, smiling at the thought of more time with könig and these two. now, you couldn’t possibly put a damper on kev’s party by calling off the plan, right? it’d be downright rude. what else can you do but wait til tomorrow for all that? your hands are totally tied here, 100%, no doubt about it. looks like the act is still on for at least another day, a thought that has you smiling as stiletto launches into searching for more clothes for you.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

you now realized why könig was so excited when you met up for lunch and you told him you wanted to go to the gathering tonight. sure, the bar’s floors were a little bit sticky with past spilled drinks, and the smell of smoke from many cigarettes hung in the air, but the energy of the place was spectacular. from the dark wood to the dimmed lights hanging from the ceiling, you instantly felt a lot more at ease than you’d felt on the way here.

kev, the man of the night, was so kind when you greeted him, his hand warm and rough when you shook it. he clapped könig on the shoulder, barking out a “maybe this party should be for you and your girl, aye? look how far you’ve come, boy. i still remember when you first showed up, all scrawny like a… like a green bean, so scared of everything. you jumped ‘bout a mile into the air the first time you checked out the haunted snack machine-”

könig rubbed the back of his neck, quickly congratulating kev before steering you away, kev’s cackle followed you through the crowd.

“you said you didn’t believe it was really haunted,” you tease, grinning up at him as he led you between the tables and other attendees, your hand in his. “well, yes, i eventually reached that conclusion after some investigating,” he said carefully, avoiding looking at you. “it had been acting funny for so long, what was i supposed to think, schatzi?” könig whined, making you laugh harder.

“bella!” stiletto shouted, waving at you from the table she and horangi had commandeered. “we were wondering where you were!” she gushed as she stood to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “oh, i guess you’re here, too,” she joked, sparing könig a quick glance.

he rolled his eyes, helping you into your chair before sitting. ever a gentleman you thought, smiling as you greeted horangi across the table.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

for such a small place, it sure got lively! conversations ebbed and flowed, mixing up like a pile of threads, the tables quickly filling and the drinks flowing. the four of you chatted and joked, occasional guests popping in when horangi waved them over. kev must be well loved as soon it felt like the whole base was in the building, although you were thankful to not see many rookies. benjamin would surely think a thing like this too below him. his types of parties usually ended with multiple arrests and lots of property damage, and at least 10 people puking in bushes… you were pulled from your thoughts when könig gently nudged your hand with his, dipping his head so you’d hear him over all the clamor of voices.

“alright, liebe? wanna leave already?” he asked softly, and you just barely caught the way his brows furrowed under his mask. you smiled, feeling your heart warm at how considerate he always was, so in tune and attentive to your moods without you even having to say anything.

“no, i was just thinking… it’s so comfy. i feel like i could stay the whole night” you grin, taking a sip of your drink. 

no one can ever say kev’s farewell party was boring. soon, many were launching into loud songs, others shouting at each other over the ratty pool table in the back, people stumbling as they mingled among tables. just when you’d thought horangi and stiletto ran out of embarrassing könig stories, they’d brew up another, helping each other remember details that the other didn’t.

könig’s defenses would never hold up, any excuse or reasoning for each embarrassing moment only making it worse until he just gave up, laughing along with the rest of you. his dry wheeze of a laugh only made you three break down even worse, horangi saying it sounded like crunchy leaves blowing away in the wind, before kev made his way over to the table.

“what’s going on over here? we telling war stories for the little lady? i want in,” he said, looking around for a chair yet finding them all taken. könig made to stand, about to offer his chair, but horangi held out a hand to stop him.

“easy, old man. you aren’t so young yourself, hm?” he laughed, almost sloshing a bit of his drink over his cup. “how about your girl sits on your lap, then kev gets her chair, and everyone’s happy?” he asked, smiling over at you.

“sure!” you quickly agreed, standing and taking your drink as könig scooted his chair back, making room for you. you nodded at kev’s thanks, assuring him it was perfectly fine, könig saying “komm hier, schatzi”, playing the perfect part of a loving boyfriend. 

you’re thanking all the higher forces that exist for the dim lighting now, feeling your face warm as you settle on könig’s lap, biting the inside of your cheek to ground yourself. the warmth of könig’s hands radiate through your clothes as he casually holds them but a millimeter away from your hip, just enough for it to look like he’s hugging you to him from the others’ point of view, without actually touching you in this impromptu moment.

the others, to their credit, just spare you a quick glance before they’re back to loudly arguing about whether kev did or did not manage that impossible shot he’s always bragging about- trying to work out if it’s worth telling you if it’s false- and you take the opportunity to turn to könig, silently communicating in that way you’ve unlocked over these months. you give him a slightly confused look, your eyes flickering to his hands to indicate what you mean, and he raises his eyebrows in response, as if saying “your choice”.

you turn back to the table, unable to hide your smile as you place your hands over his, guiding one to fully rest on your hip and the other about midway up your thigh. kev laughs when he admits he can’t even verify the legendary story himself, “so many memories become muddled over the years, the old brain’s not what it was, you know how it is” he says, directing that last bit at könig, much to the other two’s amusement.

you playfully soothe him, patting his hands with yours as you tell him not to listen to them. horangi’s laughing like a hyena, but he has to be bailed out by stiletto when he chokes on his spit a little, and that’s enough to redirect him, the fun of teasing könig quickly forgotten when he realizes he’s got the man of the hour at the table. “willing to try your luck tonight, kev?” he asks, pulling out the pack of cards you’ve learned over the months he always has on him.

something about this feels so… right. you have never felt more at ease in your life. maybe it’s the drinks warming your gut, or just the effect of having fun with friends, but you relax, leaning back against könig's chest as the chatter of the other’s settles over you like a blanket. könig hums, the sound reverberating through his chest before he leans down to place a soft kiss on your temple.

you’re vaguely aware horangi’s showing off his shuffling skills, quickly dealing himself, then stiletto, then kev in before turning his attention to you. you shake your head when he asks if you want to play, könig saying you can help him instead, reaching past you to pick up his cards. you can’t help but mourn the loss of his hands on you, the ghost of his warmth on your hip and thigh only making you feel colder as he fans his cards out so you can see his spread too.

you never really knew yourself to be clingy, stevens always shrugging you off and rolling his eyes when you’d just try to hold his hand. guess that wasn’t really an environment for you to learn about your preferences and needs. who’d have known?

you could get used to this, truly being könig’s schatzi, visiting him on base every other day, hanging out with these new friends- learn card tricks from horangi, train with stiletto- finally experience what an actual loving relationship is… you’re almost certain he feels this same way. what else would you call his kindness, his gentleness, the way he always turns to you first… he wouldn’t have agreed to this whole hare brain scheme if he didn’t like you, if he thought you were annoying, right?

you watch the game play out in front of you, basking in this delicate warmth as you lean your head against könig’s shoulder, breathing in that comforting pine scent that always clings to him. he makes a little noise of surprise, and you know it's because you’re acting different, but you shake your head, cutting off his concern before he even asks if anything’s wrong. “just got a little cold,” you say quietly, hearing horangi complain that he’s losing, that stiletto must be cheating, old kev settling their bickering.

“oh, schatzi! you should have said so” könig murmurs, a smile on his voice as he reaches for his jacket draped on the corner of kev’s- formerly your- chair, and lays it over you, tucking it around you like it’s a blanket. it feels like one, with how vast and worn it is.

you can see some irregular stitches at the shoulder seams, and you smile to yourself at the thought of könig tearing his jacket because he forgot how wide his shoulders are, he must have stretched just a bit too far, and then that night he put his sewing skills to work, stitching the pieces back together. he’d look so cute, maybe his tongue would stick out just the slightest bit as he focuses on his work, his brows would furrow in that way they do when he’s turning something over in his mind- well shit.

you let out a shaky puff of breath, feeling your hands tremble just the slightest bit as you wrestle with the undeniable fact: you’ve fallen for könig. you’ve been falling since you first spoke to him, clinging to every detail he mentioned, memorizing the inflections in his voice, finally truly laughing for the first time in a while thanks to his stories over the phone. you’d initially braced yourself for him to ask about you and stevens when he mentioned the letter, but he never pried, only took what you gave him, and you quickly learned he wasn’t the type of guy to press and insist like that.

it’s why you trusted him so much since the beginning, why you’ve never once felt apprehensive or nervous around him- not counting the butterflies you’d ignored over the past months… 

könig peeks down at you, a quiet “are you sure you’re okay, liebe?” drawing you from your thoughts.

“yeah… yeah, i’m good,” you breath out, assuring him with a smile. “i’m just gonna go get some air” you say, sliding off his lap and standing.

könig quickly drops his cards on the table, face up, making to stand after you “i’ll go with you”.

“no, no, you stay and finish your game! i’ll just be right outside.” you insist, placing your hand on his shoulder, and he actually stays seated, but he’s looking up at you with those worried puppy eyes of his.

"schatzi-”

“stay” you say, smiling as you can practically hear him whine in response, but, just like a well-trained dog, he wouldn’t go against you. really, there’s nothing for him to worry about. the street itself is well lit, those in the area are more focused on themselves; they’re respected men and women just having a night to relax.

you shut the door behind you as you take a deep breath of the cool air, tugging könig’s jacket further around you. how different life feels when you’re no longer living for someone else. the stars have never looked as pretty as they do tonight, and you’ve never felt so light of heart since this morning.

you’ll speak to könig tomorrow, tell him the plan is off, but then confess your feelings and hope he believes you. you wouldn’t hold it against him if he’s a little skeptical, just last night you were still trying to get stevens’ attention...

you shiver at the thought of him, hardly able to believe you ever once thought he was a good guy, that he was worth your effort like that. it’s laughable now that you’ve met truly good people, seen what it’s like to be treated like you’re actually someone. you check to make sure the wall behind you is clean before you lean against it, smiling up at each twinkling light in the sky.

it was as if the stars themselves were telling you everything would be okay- or maybe they were telling you to watch out, you think when you hear his voice from your left, a chill going down your spine.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

part 4, the final part, <3

taglist: @practicalgauntlet @captain-ofmusic @darkangel4121 @laduenadelswing @galactict3a @nexthyperfix @distinguishedprincesstrash

[zyk1ng]

I was gonna make this post way way earlier but I forgot lol but Uhm

I have played through the splatoon 2 story fully and am replaying it (for a future post bc a lot of the dialogue is rlly funny) and honestly while I absolutely loved it it makes me even sadder that splat 2’s story mode was kinda tossed aside (for valid reasons ofc) because it’s so Cool.

Excluding the gameplay, I think they did marie so well, because she sells the desperation of someone who’s got nobody she knows by her side. While she of course keeps the sassy attitude of sneak dissing her best friends (agent 3) and also telekinetically telling you to fuck off if you talk to her too much it’s very clear she genuinely cares so much about agent 4 and is so grateful they’re doing what they do.

these are only two screenshots of 8(?) of Marie randomly being really sentimental to 4 because this stranger chose to help her in her time of need rather than just ignore this GROWN WOMAN hanging out on a sewer drain

It’s like heavily emphasized multiple times that Marie could not be more grateful for 4’s help in retrieving not just the zapfish but also her cousin.

But then revealing that 4 knew about Callie the WHOLE TIME (I have a lot to say about this part but it’s mostly hc so) which is so KIND OF THEM???? this random woman recruits them into a secret military agency and hides the fact she rlly misses her cousin but they help anyway bc they WANT TO. (They didn’t even know either of them were famous btw) Marie shows a lot of gratitude toward 4 ESPECIALLY after the big reveal.

(You could make arguments for 3 being similar bc an old kook made them do it but this isn’t about them..)

And it’s not just being grateful for the one time, she genuinely enjoys 4’s company and wants to be better friends with them and chat after the zapfish and Callie are saved 😭😭😭

It’s so cute too, because 100%ing the game and even just being a little nosy is something that Marie picks up on, and remembers way later in the game. (More abt this later)

god I love this socially inept squid woman and her adopted child soldier that likes finding pieces of paper

Speaking of said soldier! I think the way they characterized 4 via the actual gameplay rather than art/statements/whatever is so cool

4 doesn’t have many illustrations besides the chaos splatfest and that one group photo where they’re being funky in the corner (and the apartment) but I feel like the reason for that is the fact that a lot of Marie’s dialogue as well as how splatoon 2’s hero mode is structured/designed speaks a lot about how they wanted to represent 4.

From a realistic standpoint, of course splatoon 2’s story mode has to be more creative both prompt wise and secret wise. But it feels like the reason its that way is because both 4 and Marie are separate types of people from Craig and 3.

The bosses help a lot with this too, being more gimmicky and weird (subtracting stamp.) Octo shower and samurai being bosses where you have to either react well or change your positioning to effectively beat them. (Octo shower is my fave btw I loved fighting it the first time)

The level design also shines in this aspect because if I’m honest I remember none of the splat 1 levels significantly besides the few octoling ones. Splatoon 2’s levels are very detailed (and also insanely pretty) and have some rlly fun puzzles in a handful of them and even the more fast ones are a blast to play through

And then all the little extras (sardiniums and scrolls alike) are hidden so well and you usually have to go out of your way to find them and even the secrets that aren’t either of those things have substance

Small note, a lot of extras are also made so that it flows well with the levels design (like the first dualie request mission) which is also extremely fucking cool.

the way marie touches on those little discoveries is so smart too because it (as I said before) characterizes 4 as someone who loves to look for things even if it’s on a whim especially since the sunken scrolls in the game are so much harder to find than in splat1.

And the fact that unlike splat 1, you can (technically) 800% the game by playing EVERY SINGLE LEVEL WITH EVER SINGLE WEAPON TYPE. to me it feels like it deepens the fact that 4 likes to be really thorough. marie goes “you have a problem.” When you break like two hidden egg crates in this one level and it’s so great.

I love what they’ve done with 4, whether it was intentional or I’m over-analytical.

Nothing gets past them, looking in every nook and cranny whether or not there’s secrets to be found. They’re too nosy and thorough and they like to be around marie after completing missions, they don’t know who the squid sisters are, hate balloons, may or may not be ok, have impulsive secret finding, partake in many extracurriculars, can be needy at times, go with the flow and they apparently smell better than agent 3.

Agent four, of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

[buuniebaby]

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

[vesperaominosum]

Second reason (pt. II)

Summary : You take a week off your new job, amidst admiring the life you've built after leaving the secret service. Part 2 of Second reason that no one asked for. Few years later.

Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader

Tags : (sighs) angst, unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slight smut, moderate strong language, OCD descriptions, PTSD, disordered eating, animal death (mention), depression, alcoholism, fertility issues, paranoia, stalking, dub-con (if you squint real hard), family planning, emotional cheating.

Word count: 20.3k

A/N: This is just something that crawled out of me for no reason at all, I kept getting those random questions about the story in my head and wrote some answers down.

Special thanks to @writingwisterias for encouraging this, @purplerosebouquet for the original request. @coeurbrule, @badwer @marymustdie, @cheesywedgy for motivation and everyone who liked the first part, it means A LOT actually.

Zero point two meters, zero point one meter, zero point one meter, zero point one meter, stop- stop- stop- stop- stop-

Road rage was not something you exhibited often, but when it happened, it was mostly caused by your own inability to park. Or as you liked to convince yourself, the inability to park of others. Maybe if people were a little more considerate, you would have zero problems getting into the spot, but since every other driver assumed their Nissan deserved two parking spaces instead of one, you had to go an extra mile (sometimes literally) just to get out of the vehicle and go on with your day.

With your evening, in this case. But it was an important evening, nothing extravagant, but your boyfriend was about to leave for a long work trip in the morning and wanted you to spend a night at his place. He’d be waking up earlier than you, so you couldn’t block his driveway with your car and had to park nearby, which was a problem. You were used to dropping your car off by your apartment complex where you had a designated spot just for you, that didn’t block anything for anyone because it was designed this way. This is how things were supposed to be, designed to be easier.

You killed the engine and let out a frustrated huff through your nose. You had a perfectly good day, nothing got in the way of your routine, but you kept noticing a collection of small irritating details getting bigger and bigger on the top shelf of your mind. It started with your morning coffee leaving an aftertaste akin to sewer water, continued throughout the day with your pens not cooperating and a damn flash card taking too long to load your presentation, which caused you to stand in front of students (who were not much younger than you, so the pressure to be at least presentable was high), then your heel bent weirdly at one point, the sensation of unsteadiness that lasted a second, caused you to feel…, well, unsteady, for the rest of the day. On top of it all you met an annoying colleague in the hallway at work, right when another colleague, who did not like the one you were talking to, was walking by and saw it; now she will assume you were the one who fed that guy information that cost her a position at the department, when all that pest wanted to chat about was the cafeteria changing the type of chocolate they put in their cookies. You were not friendly enough with the girl you now had to win back at your side, so it was vexing. And the damn parking. You almost forgot about how you had to prove to the café manager that Riley was a service animal at noon, and while it wasn’t a big deal, it surely added to the pile.

Riley was patiently waiting for you to finish actively hating on everything under the sun so you could go out and meet your boyfriend with a smile on your face and an easy-going attitude that he deserved to witness before departing. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, it was complicated.

You rubbed small circles above your eyebrows and got out of the car, Riley happily following you down the suburban street. So much space everywhere, yet you couldn’t park anywhere because it just wasn’t allowed and it wasn’t how it was done. The gates made no sound as you opened them, you sent Riley to play in the yard with a quick command and entered the house with a spare key you rarely used, but since you were late as it was, you didn’t think to wait longer.

You greeted your boyfriend with a small kiss, falling into his toned arms, smiling at his dissatisfied noises as he kissed you more. The dinner that he had prepared went cold, but it was destined to regardless of your tardiness, since your greeting kiss would’ve led you to the bedroom in every possible scenario.

You only remembered the dinner, as you were drying your hair with a towel sitting on top of a large soft bed, hunger crawling its way into your stomach after a very passionate welcome. It seemed to be the case with him as well, but, perhaps, a hunger of a different kind.

“Don’t!” – you smiled and shifted away, he matched the smile and began to pull you in with one hand, tugging the robe with another, kissing the bared shoulder, “I’m so serious, Jim, I have an expensive lotion on.”

“I’ll buy you more” – he kept placing kisses all over your shoulder, moving to the collarbones, - “You smell so good”.

“It’s the lotion,” – you tried your best to keep your smile from growing bigger, - “it’s expensive.”

He laughed into your neck, - “You sure? Let me check,” – his lips sucking in sensitive skin, awaking the arousal, hands disrobing you to get a hold of your chest, pinching a nipple with just enough pressure to make sure you won’t be falling asleep without another round, - “Yeah, seems expensive.” – he affirmed, voice hoarse behind the humor.

After the second shower, you both sat in the kitchen, eating cold dinner with your hands.

“This is good,” – you put a slice of something that looked like a sweet potato covered in sauce in your mouth, closing your eyes as you tasted different spices. You still didn’t get accustomed to his vegan cooking, but hunger made everything enjoyable; there was a possibility it was actually good for a change.

“As long as you keep in mind that it was better hot,” – Jim said, - “I will take this compliment.”

You let yourself melt into the relaxing atmosphere. It was rare you got to do something like this, both busy at work, and when you weren’t you had a million arrands to run. Today though, even the thought of your little date stealing precious time from your sleep didn’t disturb the tranquility.

The upcoming week promised to be turbulent at best. Jim would be gone, attending some conference he was sent to, you had to drive Riley to the vet and leave her there for a few days, since she needed a checkup and you had to finish renovating your apartment before selling it, all the chemicals not safe for a dog. Jim kindly proposed that you could stay at his place and renovate later, get a week off work and deal with the apartment during the day, coming back to his place in the evening. But you knew he didn’t like the idea of Riley being inside the house, you had to make him comfortable with the reality of living with a dog when he was present, so there won’t be any resentment down the line; generally speaking, it was a nice offer, but it wouldn’t change much, it would just complicate everything.

You’ll get a week off, may be more, leave Riley at the vet clinic, work on the apartment in peace and when he comes back, you won’t have to burden him with your problems.

The sun was softly pressuring your eyes to give in and open, gradually shinning brighter and brighter, light muffled by see-through curtains. You woke up alone, your boyfriend already departed, his red car nowhere to be seen along with the suit he prepared for the conference. It felt strange being in his house without him. Something you’ll have to get used to since you’ll be moving in together soon.

Weekends were the worst, because they disrupted a routine. It’s harder in a new environment, ‘It’s going to be harder without Riley’ – you thought to yourself, rubbing your eyebrows. Overnight moisturizer grinding into little pellets; the sensation gave you something to focus on without letting too much thoughts in too early in the day.

You were ready for this. It’s been three years since you started therapy (EMDR worked wonders). Ready to spend time alone without Riley, ready to move out and move in, ready for a new day. Your anxiety about it was the biggest saboteur, since you never had issues when you weren’t deeply aware of the impending doom. But acknowledging it alone didn’t help. You had to be cautious, but not too cautious, not so you start listening to every sound your ears could pick up.

Jim had a very clean looking kitchen that was always messy for some vegan reason. It was always something scattered around, some peas in the corners of every surface, little rice grains, grey looking powder. He always mentioned how it’s dry thus not a big deal and that when you actually cook your food with multiple ingredients it’s bound to happen. It truly wasn’t a big deal, cleaning it up was peaceful in a way. He also preferred ‘real tea’ so he boiled water in one of those steel kettles on a gas stove. It made an alarming whistling sound when water came to a boil, so you put up the whistling part. That wasn’t a sound you’d like to hear.

The truth was, it wasn’t just Riley and Jim’s conference trip that set you off to be this aware of your surroundings. You dealt just fine with small changes in the routine and different environments, despite what your therapist suggested, it even helped to feel more in control.

Big changes are what irked you the most. First time it happened two years ago, when you decided to quit working at the rehabilitation center and applied to the university, not the best position but you needed the minimum of three years of experience on top of your degree to submit your thesis. And you haven’t even started working on figuring out what your project was going to be about. Imposter syndrome did not help one bit. It would take years to work on, write, apply and submit. If you wanted a PhD by late thirties, you had to get yourself together now. So, there was no time to waste working at the center, even though the job was rewarding, you liked helping people you could relate to, your own triggers kept you from getting too involved, which was necessary.  

Besides everything, sheltering yourself was not the best strategy, so you quit. Getting used to a new job was somewhat challenging, but you got through it. This time the big change creeped in slowly: your boyfriend decided to propose.

Well, it wasn’t a big gesture, and according to him wouldn’t change much. You met at the rehabilitation center where you worked before quitting. He was a physiotherapist, seven years older than you, a good family, patient when it came to people, strong hands, thick dark hair. Asked you out on the spot, you hesitated, but figured you needed a distraction from a harsh breakup anyway. Well, the breakup wasn’t harsh, but you had a hard time dealing with consequences.

Jim was patient with you and soon you found yourself in a symbiotic relationship, he was always there when you needed to discuss something, he wasn’t possessive and gave you space. So, he understood when you hesitated accepting his proposal. You were still in your twenties; you were comfortable with the relationship that you had. But his family was pressuring him, and he told you that it didn’t mean that you had to get married. A shut-up-ring but for his family, as you joked. It made sense; he was in his thirties with a demanding job. His final argument broke through your defense – “Do you consider leaving?”. You did not. Then why does it matter, since marriage was a goal eventually anyway. Not now, but eventually. This is what the proposal was, just an ‘eventually’. The ‘we’ll get married down the line, someday’ message to his family, to everyone.

It started to dawn on you that you were the last to get that message. At first you didn’t pay it any mind, everything stayed the same; you didn’t even wear the ring. But soon you noticed your thoughts circle back to the idea every time you noticed something that stood out.

You kept thinking ‘I’ll have to live with this forever’ every time you saw the mess in his kitchen. ‘This is going to be about our kitchen.’ Someday. That ‘someday’ was the real reason for your anxiety. You thought about raising kids with him, would he insist on them being vegan? He never cared about your eating habits, offered to try his food, different alternatives every once in a while, but nothing extreme. But it would be different with kids. You weren’t proud of your thoughts, but a habit of scaring yourself in preparation for the worst remained your most trusted ally.

You thought about kids before, just after you got away from the secret service slavery. Sitting at the doctor’s office; you recall the regret of having a memory from high school of the day you first learned that you lost your period from intense exercise. Back then it made you feel better about yourself. You found some twisted pride in knowing that your student athlete career (that landed you a spot at the university) closed the door for a quiet life. Like the universe accepted your choice to never have a proper family. The consequences only revealed themselves later in life. You felt cheated.

It wasn’t like you wanted kids at the time as well, but sometimes you caught yourself wondering. So, you followed every recommendation like the most obedient soldier; took all the pills, strict dietary plans, check-ups. There was so much comfort in gaining the possibility back, like the universe leading you back to that hallway, full of doors to open. It wasn’t about kids, it was about having a choice, having a future you can still bend.

That fixation faded once your ex walked out on you. Or once you threw him out. Depends on how you wanted to view the story in the moment of reminiscing. But it didn’t matter, because you were not reminiscing. What mattered is that you got out of the frenzy and the subject of having kids never entered your mind again.

The subject of having kids never entered your mind when you got together with Jim, you did not think of it throughout your relationship. Mainly because it was too early. But now when you were technically engaged under the premise of agreeing that you did not want to break up in the future anyway, that meant that any kids you will have will be with him. Makes sense? And that was not something you were prepared to even think about.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good candidate, but God, even thinking about him as a candidate was weird. Thinking of anyone as a ‘candidate’ was weird. It was weird thinking about kids. You felt like a teenager who was harassed by older relatives at the family function. But those older relatives were your own thoughts, and you were not a teenager anymore, despite feeling like one sometimes.

Jim was nice, attractive and healthy. Good hairline, straight teeth, amazing personality, stable job, big family. Built a perfect relationship to set an example. You just needed time to grow comfortable with that thought. Reality was a bit more complicated than him being decent as an individual, unfortunately. Would he insist on his family being involved in the lives of your children? The mere idea of that was suffocating; it’s not that you disliked them, but you were not comfortable with handling relationships with someone outside of the people you picked. And you did not pick them. His family liked you. You suspected they were having their issues with you, but no one is perfect and no one is going to like everything about you anyway.

When he told his parents that you were engaged, they looked happy. Later you overheard him talking about you to his mother, Jim said that he’s glad she’s happy because you’re truly the best girl, and she agreed, said “She knows how to play the role”. That comment rubbed you the wrong way, but you knew she didn’t mean it like that. His mother disliked your past in the ‘military’, disliked how career oriented you were, and despite all of it, she accepted you. Refused to be mean from the start and gave you a chance. You were grateful for it. After all, she’s just a mother who wants the best for her child. You would want the best for your kids as well. Would you want them to have a life like this? Would you want them at all?

A strong smell pulled you out of these thoughts. Stinging metallic smell of burned plastic and copper, bitter. The damn kettle, you forgot that you put the whistling part up, and now all the water boiled out without a sound, leaving an empty metal kettle with a plastic handle heating up under direct fire. Burning up.

Wrapping the handle in the towel, you swiftly put soot covered metal in the sink. The sound and the smell making your heart race faster. You had to open the window to let the smoke out, the smell out, you needed to get out. You needed Riley. Had to go to the vet, stick to your plans. Immediately. Now.

Got dressed, got Riley, got in the car, got to the clinic, signed the papers, said goodbyes, back in the car, the smell isn’t gone. There’s no smell in the car, it’s in your head. The smell of the heated iron, the smell of bullet shells. Did iron smell like blood because of..., well, iron? Or was it just your brain dragging the nasty sweet-sour smell of blood out of your memory and tying it to the one of heated copper? Was it even copper? Fuck, you had to open your car windows. You immediately felt panic set in, car windows had to be closed. Why weren’t they closing fast enough? Open windows weren’t safe. Your windows weren’t even bulletproof anyway so it didn’t matter. You had a regular car. Because you were a regular person. You took deep breaths. You, a regular person, sat in your regular car, and took deep breaths. To calm down, because there was no point in panicking. Nothing would happen. Nothing bad was going to happen to you.

Riley was stressed leaving you in that state. Well, Riley didn’t leave you, you left Riley. Your poor girl didn’t have to stress about being a bad friend. It was all on you, you wished you had a way to let her know. But you had to stick to the plans, otherwise you’d lose it.

You were not coming back to Jim’s place. Did you take the kettle off the stove? Fuck, hopefully, you did, because you were not coming back. You did. You had to, you had a good reaction and you always did the right thing in the moment, the haziness usually kicked in after the fact. It wasn’t foolish to trust yourself with this. You did everything right, and you were going to your apartment to deal with the renovations.

The apartment used to feel like home before you decided to renovate and sell it. Even before any attempts to change how it looked, it just lost its magic the second you set your mind. Now it wasn’t hard to tear off wallpapers and throw out some old furniture. It was all easy now - and that wasn’t easy. It was scary how simple discarding something meaningful was to you. Like it didn’t hold any significance anymore. You noticed this trend some time ago.

It was the most annoying state of mind, when the silence unnerved you, made you listen to every little sound, but music made you anxious because of the idea that you might not hear something. What was it you waited to hear? It was ridiculous, there was nothing to look out for, no danger, yet you found yourself on the verge of another episode. First one in a long while. That wouldn’t work, you had to pick up Riley earlier. Rent a place. Renting a place won’t work - new environment - new corners to get used to, new furniture that casts new unfamiliar shadows that you mistake for movement. Jim had to be back. You would never tell him that.

You promised to yourself to never involve Jim in your problems, he was a part of the life where no problems of that caliber took place. Normal life. Peaceful life. Civil life. He didn’t deserve this, he worked with many veterans at the center, he had no business dealing with another one at home. You would never do this to him.

You liked Jim for not knowing what it’s like to chase shadows and gasp for air amid nightmares, you had a fair share of experience dating someone who knows. Someone who knows and understands that problem too damn well. Didn’t work out.

You were not ruining something good for a quick relief, some temporary comfort, a couple of nice words that won’t change a thing; you’d work on it yourself and give the best version to the person who gives you the best version. This is how things are supposed to be.

You learnt the hard way how important trying to be the best person for each other was. Watching your ex drive himself straight into fucking alcoholism, refusing help. It’s not always simple, but you could do your part. For now, your part was not bugging your boyfriend with your problems. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, fuck.

There was no way to give the ring back without it changing something fundamentally in the relationship, and changing something was not at all what you wanted. That was the main thing, you did not want to change anything. And he promised nothing would change, but things did change. For you, they did. It’s frustrating being mad when there’s no one to blame. You couldn’t even blame yourself. It made sense. What could you do? Tell him that you wanted to leave the door opened? Considered breaking up in the future? It wasn’t true. You did not want to break up. You just didn’t want this. Wasn’t ready for the thoughts of forever just yet. And he understood that, he promised it’s just a formality.

Besides Jim being great and your relationship being fulfilling, there was no way you’d ever put yourself through getting to know another person again. The idea of learning something new about someone new made you nauseous. Letting someone in? That wasn’t an option. You figured it never worked anyway. We all play our roles in the lives of others.

We play a role of a friend, a daughter, a co-worker, a girlfriend… A wife, a mother. “She knows how to play the role”. That was a complement. It took you a lot to get it right. Before that, you let people in. It was all a blur, a co-worker, a lover, a friend, a client even… You thought people could handle each other. That someone could accept all of you. Maybe it’s the case with kids, when you’re just experiencing the world and trying to see other people for what they are. Every corner of their mind sparks interest. But grown-ups had boundaries and roles. Roles and rules to adhere to.

It sounds bad, but it isn’t really. Couldn’t be. How could it be bad if it worked? You wouldn’t tell things you tell your friends to your kids. Same thing.

At least tomorrow you wouldn’t be alone, a couple of plumbers will be occupying the bathroom and you’ll feel the obligation to be social. Maybe you should call up your friends, fill up the rest of the week. You took the sleeping pills you haven’t touched in a while and closed your eyes, wishing for a better morning.

It was a shameful secret, but sometimes, despite your education, you believed you had some magic powers. If you wished for something hard enough, it happened just the way you wanted to. And your magic powers proved themselves right the next day, when Jim called you up and said that he’s coming back earlier. Didn’t even have to ask him.

Your mood through the roof; the ‘roof’ like the sound that Riley let out as soon as she smelled you coming in, her soft black fur in your face, wagging tail hitting your shins. That joyful little Labrador made everything better. Your friend, the guardian of your peace. Her vet annoyed at your inconsistence: you made a deal you’d leave Riley for longer and they didn’t finish whatever they had planned. They’d manage to do it all in a day, but since they assumed they had the time… It was okay, you’d bring her back later. Riley was a trained service dog, so she needed intense check-ups. Since she was given to from the special service K9 unit, they were extra strict with it. She was more than that to you, so you’d do it anyway. You’d do anything to keep her happy and healthy – a thought ran through your head as you ruffled her cute ears, black eyes staring at you in adoration.

You assumed the same look of adoration was on your face as you listened Jim talking for what seemed to be hours about the conference. Apparently, he got in an argument with someone and won. The argument was very public and he got noticed by some guy who wanted Jim to talk about the importance of physiotherapy and an active lifestyle for office workers at some event at his company.

“So, I will be needing lessons from you.” – he joked.

“Oh, I teach kids”

“They are teenagers. Young adults even”

“Well, that’s way worse!” – you were laughing, energized by his enthusiasm.

“Oh, you don’t like to teach them? Imagine how I feel,” – he hugged you and looked at your face, timing the kiss.

“And what’s that’s supposed to mean?” – you raised your eyebrows, understanding perfectly fine that he was, once again, teasing you about being younger.

“Well, I deal with you.” – the smile was warm in every muscle in his face, it was hard trying to keep up with the fake argument, so you just laughed and let him land that kiss he was hovering.

“I missed you, don’t leave me again.”

He pecked your pouted lips – “I won’t. Only for this event.”

“The event is out of town?” – you let the worry in your tone seep out, and bit your tongue.

“Yeah, this Tuesday. Just for three days. You could come?”

“What? Why three days? What are you going to do there for three days?” – you immediately hated the way you sounded, like a clingy paranoid housewife. It wasn’t that. You weren’t that.

“A day to fly in, the day of the event and a day to fly back.” – he’s sympathetic, - “You could come.” – swaying you around a little.

“I can’t, I have work.” Shit, why did it have to happen like that?

“Didn’t you take your days off?”

“Yeah, no…” – you took his arms off of you, trying to shake the stress off, - “I still have to deal with the load I took home… And my apartment… And Riley.”

“We could take Riley.”

“She has a vet in two days.” – you sighed as Jim hugged you again, kissing your temple.

“And when do you have a vet?”

He made an exaggerated pained sound as you elbowed him, smiling, - “Next month? I don’t know. I saw Clara recently; she didn’t see a point in meeting sooner.”

You assumed he was talking about her. He could’ve meant the doctor he put you on to, the one who removed scars with that laser, but you didn’t want to talk about that. You had a nasty scar on the side of your body, a deep stab wound. You didn’t mind it, but Jim assumed it triggered you somehow. Clara was your therapist, a skinny thin lady with condescending lips. You figured she pursed them in an understanding expression way too much so they turned into that shape with age. Made a mental note to never do that yourself.

“Well, as long as you’re going. Next month or whenever… How’s everything with the apartment?”

Now was his turn to listen to you rumble about how you dropped the curtain poll and other boring details.

You were truly happy that Jim got this event thing, sometimes he felt trapped at the center, working at the same building every day. It was good for him to get away, you just didn’t want to deal with him being away. It was your problem to deal with, not his. You wouldn’t make it his problem. You were better than that.

But the days grew shorter and shorter and soon you found yourself waking up alone. Jim bought a new kettle, didn’t even get mad that you ruined the old one. Told you that you could drop the curtain poll here as well and he wouldn’t care. It was comforting, but you still didn’t feel like he meant it. He meant it of course, but he didn’t know yet what he meant to mean. You couldn’t even dare bring Riley inside. She was running free in the backyard and stayed at the building you referred to as a ‘summer kitchen project’. It wasn’t a summer kitchen yet, but it wasn’t anything else as well. Maybe one day Jim will turn it into a little guest house. Or a proper kitchen. Maybe you will do it together.

The thought plagued your mind once more. And it was heavy. Why was it heavy? Everything was fine. It was too early to think about those things anyway. Why think of them? But was it too early? You said yes to a goddamn ring, it wasn’t just a pinky promise. His parents knew.

He wasn’t close to his parents. They turned him into an overachiever, expecting nothing but the best, and soon he figured out that the best was never enough. They always wanted him to do better. So, he distanced himself. You liked that about him, he set boundaries. He never disrespected them, but he didn’t let them in into his life, so they couldn’t affect it. He used to laugh at their assumption that they had a grip on him. He told them what they wanted to hear, and did as he pleased anyway. You noticed how it was changing as well. ‘She’s just my mother’ (with an eyeroll) started turning into ‘Well, she is my mother’. Were you about to walk into a trap?

It’s just you. And your trust issues. He never did anything to hurt you, never deceived you. All he did was being supportive, and even assured you he wasn’t leaving with a promise, a ring. And you were paying him back with doubts. Maybe his mother was right after all, he needed someone less turbulent.

But you were less turbulent. You grew to be so much less turbulent, you had to stick to a routine not to choke on another panic attack. It used to be much worse, you had to acknowledge your progress. That’s what Clara always raved about. All the work that you put in building this life, it paid off. Panic attacks weren’t the issue, it was this state of heightened anxiety that felt like a tunnel vision on everything at the same time. Your mind turned into this quiet buzzing, like something was about bout to happen and you had limited time to fix it. How much time? What would happen? What were you supposed to do? When will it end? Would it?

It was hard to see it sometimes, but the bigger picture was clear. You’d figure out the project you wanted to work on, you’d finish it. All while getting the required experience with your university job, write your thesis, defend it. Get your PhD title and your life would be over. Done, you meant. Your life would be complete. Complete, that’s the word.

And the rest will follow. Steadily, just like the life you were building: steady, peaceful, fulfilling.  

You planned on taking Riley for the leftover tests only, but got told that they will need her to stay at the clinic, might need a transfer to the providing organization; found something worth ‘looking into’. They had that look in their eyes when they said “It’s nothing serious, we don’t think”, that look like they were just saying it, you knew that they were lying.

She was not your property when it came to documents, K9 trained for the secret services. They only let you have her when you promised to return to ‘work’. You didn’t. And now that something happened, they’d take her away. Was it your fault? Did she absorb too much poison from your emotional state?

You sat in your car, trying not to let any thoughts in. Everything you ever wish really hard for always happened, so you had to think really hard about the good things. “It truly is nothing serious.” It’s good that you do these check-ups. It’s probably something other pet owners wouldn’t even notice for years until it’s too late, but you had a privilege to detect it early, so everything was going to be okay. Had to be thankful.

Should you call Jim? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t disturb him before an event that’s very important to him. He probably will tell you that everything will be fine anyway. And you knew it. You could tell it to yourself all the same. There was no need.

Your throat dry, like your body sucked up all the moisture in order not to cry. You couldn’t cry. Crying would mean you’re dealing with something and you were not. Because Riley would be okay. For fucks sake, you were smart. Crying was just crying. A complex emotional and physiological response that serves a function, various functions even. You were overwhelmed, not fucking grieving. It’s things like this that made you feel inadequate about your expertise sometimes. You were smart when it came to other people and textbook cases, yet toyed with all this magical thinking when time came to process your own shit.

You let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed your eyebrows, not caring about the makeup. You wouldn’t ever care about anything anymore if something were to happen to Riley. Shut up.

Nothing would happen. You got Riley even before you officially quit your job at the secret service, during the hospital leave. She was with you through everything, the only one that saw the path you had to take to be okay again. As okay as you were.

No one else stuck around, it wasn’t like there were people to stuck around to begin with, but still… A job like this can be isolating, so isolating you resorted to dating your partner. You did not think about those times, nor him; Clara agreed it did no good. Triggered a lot of destructive thought patterns and got you out of the loop.

You never intended to date him, it just happened. You knew it wasn’t a good idea and didn’t care, so you got exactly the ending that was due. It was good at first, too good. You could sleep when he was around. Falling asleep next to him was easy, because that’s what you did during the missions. You knew that if he lets you sleep, it means it’s his turn to be awake, and he’d be watching out for anything and everything. It worked in many ways. Sometimes you’d wake up in cold sweat, alarmed by the memories punishing you in your nightmares and you would see him next to you, sleeping. And that meant you were home. Because he’d never sleep in any other situation, you could trust him with that. You felt safe enough with him, an important transitional period. It wouldn’t be right to go cold turkey on that part of your life, having a familiar face around made it easier.

But then you started seeing each other less. He got entangled in missions above your understanding, he never talked about those, never talked about any of them; it wasn’t right for you to hear it and well, it was classified. And every time he went away your anxiety would feel fresh, and every time he came back your anxiety would feel fresh again. You couldn’t see him in the state in which he returned sometimes; bruised, bloody, swollen, that shell shocked dissociated look. You were used to it before, now it reminded you of something you’d rather forget.

He noticed the way it was affecting you, but didn’t find any better solution than not seeing you straight away; waiting a few days till the horror gets out of his system; and drinking during these days, evidently.

He never listened when you confronted him about his problem. At first, he hid it pretty good. Only drinking on the day of his arrival, sobering up the next day and then you’d meet up. But soon enough he started drinking to the point of sleeping through the entire day you were supposed to meet, claiming that it was just exhaustion. It wasn’t just exhaustion. And finally, he’d drink when you were together, to keep his mind sober, as he claimed. To deal with a hungover. When you confronted him about being hungover in the first place, he’d act like it was his God given right to drink when you weren’t seeing each other, so you made it clear it wouldn’t work. He had to find a way to deal with the problem. And alcohol wasn’t the problem. The ‘job’ was.

There was no way for you to get better with him around, there was no way for him to get better reintroducing himself to danger every other week. You were caring and kind and you begged for so long, before you snapped and gave him an ultimatum. He could go on another mission, but you wouldn’t wait for his return. It was his choice to make. His alone. You were not a bad person for doing that.

He didn’t choose you. Somehow you always knew he never would. You lied when you said you wouldn’t wait for his return, you waited. You waited for his return, wished for it. At some point the realization hit: that wishing for his return so hard against his will might work. And he might return, but not in the way you intended, it struck you like a lighting. What have you done? He’s going to return in a body bag. That’s generous, he’s going to return as a pile of ashes. So, you had to stop thinking about it.

Only saw him once after he left. Riley snuffed him out in the crowded street after your open lecture. It was more than a year ago. Neither of you wanted to talk, but Riley was too excited, so you talked for a while. He refused admitting he was seeing your lecture, despite his motorcycle, that he now used to move around, being parked outside the lecture hall. Looked somehow older, maybe the lines on his forehead deepened, maybe it was the look in his eyes, detached, maybe it was the fact that he went few days without shaving. Or sleeping, by the looks of it, eyebags almost red. It was all so unlike him. He used to have it all under control, was the one you relied on. It felt wrong seeing him like this, like he was taking away something from you.

Took so much strength not to act like a nagging ex. You wanted to ask all these questions: whether he was drinking, whether he was getting help, whether he knew it was wrong, whether he had someone to take care of him. But you weren’t his mother. Had to keep it in check. He was your ex-boyfriend. Essentially, just a stranger who knew too much. Boundaries.

Never saw him after that, never thought about him, went on with your life, built something great for yourself. Your life was real, without constant death looming in the corners. Your mind went to Riley and you hated your brain for it.

What if you never see her again? What if your little girl turns to ashes and this is all you’re going to hold in your hands when you touch her again? Your ex-partner appeared in your head once more. It’s the same disgusting thoughts, it’s never about anything other than your brain and it’s patterns. You had to stop, before you lost vision, hyperventilating in the car, like you saw ghosts.

What if it’s a sign? What if it’s the price for the new life you’re about to start? All your thoughts were about to come true. Your new life, and the sacrifice in the shape of two plastic bags half-full of ashes to finally let you go and live out your dreams. And the smell. Earthy smell of ashes. You started seeing black. You never wanted it. The idea of those warm black paws… Those hands that held you… All turned into dust.

You opened the car-door, breathing in the air through the mouth, in and out, desperately; and just walked out.

You had to call Clara, talk to her about it. She’d reassure you it was all in your head; but you already knew it. It was the problem. You were scared that whatever’s in your head always found it’s way to become a reality somehow, and this is why you didn’t want to acknowledge these thoughts. You’d never share it with anyone, you’d never make them any more real than they were. And they weren’t. None of it was real. You needed to fall into routine. Something to occupy your hands and your head.

Working on your apartment wasn’t helping much, everything made you think about how you’re getting rid of not just things, but also every other aspect. You loved clinging to things and thoughts. It kept you grounded for a while. There was no way to check up on Riley, they’d lie anyway. They’d lie and tell you everything is good; they already did that. If this sacrifice is tied together, this means your ex… This means if he’s okay, then Riley is also going to be okay. That made sense.

There was a way to see if he was fine, without coming in contact, had to be. Maybe you should call up some past colleagues and ask around, find a way to make it seem normal. There was no way to make it seem anything but deranged. So, your mind switched from thinking about to Riley to this.

It felt like something to grip onto. An indicator you could check. If he’s alive and well, then Riley is going to be alive and well. This is how the universe worked today.

The thought simmered in your head for the entire day as you painted the wall in your room white, so you cave in, got your old phone out, charged it, tried to find any contacts that could be useful. Try to ignore the way the phone makes all the memories smell.

You came up with a legend, rang up a girl who used to work in the archives, she wasn’t useful. Didn’t talk. Well, she knew how to keep information, that’s like, her job description or something.

You needed someone less loyal, who wouldn’t see any malice in an ex-employee asking questions. Because there was no malice, it was just small talk. Called up a guy who worked at the storage facility. He was in the mood to talk. You weren’t sure he remembered you, but he was honored an ex-agent called him up to chat randomly. You told him about how you were at the airport another day and had to carry your luggage, which made you think of all the work he’s done for you. Thanked him in a long speech, and as you were wrapping up the call, asked around. Just a polite ‘how’s everyone doing’ type of thing. ‘Please just straight to the point,’ you thought to yourself, all this talk made you nauseous. You just wanted to hear any random fact about that one person. That’s it. But the guy never mentioned him, made you work for it. You ask a couple of questions about other people he didn’t mention. Come on, sound nonchalant and make it look natural. Will it be less suspicious if you ask about him after getting your answers about three random people prior? Three is too text-book, make it four. Make sure to ask about someone else as well afterwards, so it doesn’t sound like it was the goal. Make sure your voice doesn’t give it away when you mention his name. It’s easy.

The interrogation was supposed to leave you feeling at peace, but what you learned left you confused instead. Confused in your own feelings. Irritated, enraged…, upset? What do you mean that motherfucker quit?

Peeling the carrots was relaxing, skinning that orange vegetable. Small white lines becoming more and more transparent before disappearing, strong refreshing smell. What else is orange in the room? One of the buttons on the TV remote was orange before you threw the TV out, that black mirror of the screen made you anxious, so it had to go. Jim’s place had an orange towel, not much of color at your place. You had an orange eyeshadow in one of the makeup pallets, one of those colors no one ever used. You only used natural ones, to make you look presentable, but still respectable and serious. Why would he quit? Found something worth leaving it all behind for? Someone? Good for him. Would be good for him, if it was the case. Probably wasn’t. Probably quit to drink more.

You couldn’t imagine him doing anything other than what he was doing. He was out of place anywhere else. He was the kind of person who was so reliable in stressful situations, but an absolute mess in a day-to-day life. You wondered if he knew how to pay taxes. Always had the government do everything for him, they basically groomed him and he was too comfortable. And the motorcycle? With the drinking? A recipe for a fucking disaster. A recipe, right. You needed another carrot. You were stressed beyond reason as it was, here he was giving you another headache. You threw the carrot into the sink. You already peeled enough actually.

So, he quit four months ago. And you’re just getting to know about it. Like that, from some random guy. No one even bothered to tell you, like it didn’t matter. Did they consider even for a moment that maybe you knew something that had to be accounted for before letting him go? How did they even just let him go? You went though a lot of bullshit to finally quit, your trauma playing a factor. Did they catch him drinking on duty? He always said it wasn’t this simple when it came to quitting, so what changed?

This fucking salad wasn’t turning out great. And you weren’t even hungry anymore. Jim was about to be home in few hours, you had to eat or else you’d be forced to eat the cow vomit he called food.

This was wrong, mean thoughts. Jim didn’t do anything to upset you. If you didn’t like his food, you should take the matters in your own hands and cook for him. Find vegan recipes online. You could find anything online.

You could find anything online. A couple of thoughts ran through your head, conflicting with each other.  You were not about to stalk your ex.

Anyway, vegan food didn’t have to be nasty, Jim was just in too deep and got used to it, you didn’t have to suffer. You’d cook up something decent. He’d be glad you’re committing to the bit.

The recipe. To the store. To Jim’s place. To the kitchen. Fuck the carrot salad. Fuck all of this.

“This. Is just. Amazing” – Jim annunciated, taking another forkful of the mushroom gravy pie with garlicky kale mashed potatoes, - “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

‘Oh, you have no idea’ – a spiteful thought ran through your head.

“Well, you tell me,” – you smiled instead.

“As far as I’m concerned,” – he stood up, grabbing your waist, - “You’re perfect.” – placed a kiss to your temple. Why is always the temple?

You almost pushed him away, before recognizing that your annoyance wasn’t directed at him, you actually liked how he hugged you, you tried to relax into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay, Riley’s gonna be fine,” – he placed another kiss to your temple. Who the fuck asked him to mention Riley? He never even let her in the house properly, what does he know about anything? You let out a suppressed scoff and inhaled sharply. It wasn’t his fault; you were just on edge.

“Thank you.” – for nothing. That mean person in your head just couldn’t shut up. Shut up. “I’m sorry, last couple of days were crazy. I’m glad you’re back.”

Be the best version of yourself for others. Unlike some.

The conference or the meeting- the event-whatever, went well, he even managed to land another similar gig, that was good. Jim told you all about it, he went out to celebrate with the people that organized all that and got you a stuffed toy from the slot machine. Sweet. You laughed at his stories and he almost made it all better. But once a thought got into your head, you were persistent to abuse it, obsess over it, you knew that trait, and you had to manage it somehow.  

“Remember Kennedy?” – you said nonchalantly, brushing your teeth before bed.

“The president?”

“No, the guy I used to work with.” – you had to talk with someone about it, otherwise you’d keep thinking about it in private. Those thoughts needed a way out, and you could tell Jim anything.

“Ah, the one you used to date.” – he was getting ready for bed as well, assembling the pillows in that secret smart way that gave him superpowers of never straining his muscles or something.

“Yes. So, I was catching up with some colleagues and guess what? He quit few months ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. No one even told me. This is how I get to know about it.”

“Yeah, what about it though?” – the pillows must not be pillowing because he was not paying enough attention. – “Why would they tell you?”

“Jim. Do you understand the situation? How it looks like?” – you glared at him, toothbrush in hand. – “This is not about him, Jim. This is about me. About my reputation.”

He put down the pillow, looking at you, dumb expression on his face, - “How is this about your reputation now?”

“Are you kidding me?” – you spat toothpaste out, washed the brush and fastened the silk robe around your waist, - “Do you know what kind of training he went through? We went through. Him, especially.” – it wasn’t about him though, - “The… What we’ve been through? Generally. Last time we spoke, he was coping horribly, drinking and-…”

“You’re super tense.” – Jim came over and put his hands on your shoulders, rubbing slightly. – “Ease up. Want me to rub your shoulders, huh?”

“I want you to know why I’m upset.” – you sat down on the bed, Jim still rubbing your back, - “You just don’t quit that kind of job without support. What if something happens and then… Me.” – you pointed both hands at yourself, like you had to explain it to him, - “What are they going to say? What kind of a psychologist am I? Who’s going to grant me with a prestigious position and a PhD with an ex who did… all… that?” – you couldn’t bring yourself to say that, but you trusted Jim to figure it out. It wasn’t a healthy situation.

“Listen, I know.” – Jim started working on your neck, it wasn’t even tense, - “You can always twist it though.” – Twist what? Your neck? – “See: you both went through something so horrible…, and look what it did to him. But you, you managed to crawl your way back from hell. And you can help others.” – he said it with a theatrical grandiosity, knew how to lighten the mood.

“This isn’t funny.” – you swerved your shoulders away; it wasn’t working in the moment.

“Or look.” – he sat up straight – “Nobody cares about the timelines, it’s the story that matters. Can always say his demise inspired you to help others.”

“This isn’t funny, Jim. I’m so serious right now.” – what was he even talking about?

“Okay, fine.” – Jim sighed, like you upset him by not complying, - “Let’s be real. I honestly don’t think anyone’s gonna care about your personal life like that.”

“You don’t know how it is, they will dig up every possible reason not to lend me the spot. It’s men who can date high schoolers and still work with kids. Me, a woman-…”

He rolled his eyes, - “There we go… Yes, I understand it’s the whole world against you.”

“You don’t know what’s it like, it’s important, I cannot let my reputation be tainted with something like-“

“Oh, how would I know?” – why was he mad? – “My job’s not that serious. I don’t have to care about my reputation.”

“Jim, don’t fucking do this. This is not about you.”

“Yes! What is this even about? I don’t think your ex is going to fucking kill himself because he quit. Guy’s probably having the time of his life right now.” – he looked at you – “Damn, not everyone’s fucking crazy!”

You stared at him.

What? You had to go get some water. Anything to just calm down. He was supposed to comfort you, not this. Not everyone’s fucking crazy? Like whom? Did he just call you crazy?

No, he didn’t. And he was right. You spent way too much time with suicidal people, not everyone’s like that. You needed to relax and let it go. You finished you water and came back to bed.

Just laid there in silence for a moment, before Jim shifted to cuddle up, you put your head in his neck.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just stressed. It’s the apartment, it’s Riley being away, you leaving…”

“It’s okay” – he kissed your head, - “I get it.”

He kissed your shoulder and it felt like you were pressured into peace you did not deserve. Restless. Moving in with him would be a challenge, you suddenly found yourself clinging to all the chaos you still carried inside, knowing that he’s on a mission to install order over it. You cannot imagine sleeping next to someone every day, not being able to twist and turn till sunrise.

You closed your eyes, feeling the bees and worms move under your skin. One day, they will go away. It will all go away.

“I don’t like what you said last night…” – you brought up in the morning, getting ready for another day.

Jim was not in the mood for the conversation, but you both valued communication - “Is this about your…”

“Yeah, I don’t like how you talked about him.” – you both understood each other without having to say much.

“Okay. What was it I said that you didn’t like?” – he was putting up with you at this point. You didn’t like feeling like you were someone he had to put up with.

“You talked about him…” – you motioned with your head – “ending things?”

“Yeah? I thought you did that.”

“You put it harshly, I don’t like this, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it.” – he was just saying things.

You sighed, - “It’s not that… It’s a sensitive topic for me, you know that. And it’s very real.”

“I know” – he buttoned up his jacket and walked up to give you a small peck.

When you got together, Jim promised he would lean a thousand languages to get through you. That you will always find a middle ground. Sometimes it felt like he was just saying what you wanted to hear to shut you up.

The day was slow, full of grading assignments, checking if the paint was drying flat at the apartment (you already managed to mismatch the primer with the paint once, causing it to bubble up before), talking to the vets at the clinic, who assured you that all Riley needed was a small surgery and that it wasn’t anything to worry about, but she was transported. You could even see the pictures from before they took her, except you couldn’t. You couldn’t see her in the state that you were. And if you miss out on the chance to see her one last time, you wouldn’t forgive yourself. And you’d be forced to end things. It was a nice set up, Check-mate, universe. There will be no life without Riley, so everything had to be okay.

You were happy you no longer worked with people; you wouldn’t wish a therapist like yourself on your worst enemy. But then maybe you would. That would be a neat punishment.

You did not manage to find anything about your ex on the internet, gave up on that task and picked it up again a couple of times. Even lying on the bed after a hot bath, which usually helped, the thoughts just did not leave you. He was a threat to your reputation. It’s not like it was easy to find anything on someone with a job like his. So that actually meant that if anything were to happen, no one would know. This thought should’ve been sufficient enough to put your worries to rest, but it made you even more restless. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, and you had to know. It wasn’t even about anything, you just had to know.

What if imagining him in misery was easier than imagining anything else? Maybe the thought of him being happy made you uncomfortable. What then? Could you trust yourself to be a bigger person? Deep down you knew, the mean voice in your head wanted every single person who didn’t choose you to suffer in regret. It was because of your parents. And that voice had no control over you, unless it did. And sometimes it did, but not now. You were the bigger person, maybe not when Jim sat on the bed, disrupting your thoughts. You were the smaller person next to him, literally. He was bigger. And the bed moved under his weight.

The thoughts had to go; Jim had no business being present in the aura of your maliciousness. To him, you were good. And you would be good with him. He’d make you better.

“I can see the stress radiating off of you” – he laughed lightly, - “putting a hand to your forehead”. Goofy.

You smiled and rubbed your eyes, - “I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine” – Jim got all up in your face, a playful smile, studying, - “I know how to deal with tension.”

“No doubts, I heard you were famous for that.” – you matched the tone, - “Traveling around the country sharing your knowledge with serious people.”

“Oh no,” – grabbing you by the waist, he laid flat on his back and pulled you up on top of him, - “A masterclass for you only.”

Oh no. Indeed. “Wait” – you support yourself placing a hand on his chest as he pulls you up, kissing your thigh. You hold onto the bedframe, his kisses are warm, hot. The timing is off, you’re in your head.

Maybe it will work, maybe you need to shut your brain off, give in to him. And you try, as his lips make your muscles tighten up. You breathe deep, no thoughts. Please no thoughts.

The more you try not to think of something, the more your brain focuses on the matter – it was the bane of your life. Usually the problem was more general, less urgent. But at the moment, you tried really hard not to let any of it get inside your head, forget for a moment, let go. It doesn’t matter at the moment. Nothing matters, just you and… Just you and the disarray of fragments that steal your life from perfection. And Jim. Fuck, not like this. By focusing hard on not letting the visions in, you shut off from feeling, your body overstimulated, your brain fighting for the upper hand to block it out. It almost hurt, the pressure. Like a drawn bow, you tried not to give way. Not to think about the vet clinic, the walls, white walls in your apartment, your bedroom, your bed, a man on the bed, a vision of blue eyes staring at you flickered in your head so visceral, like a lightning. You grabbed the bedframe like a lifeboat to a drowning man, gasping for air, a shudder running across your body. Finally, no thoughts.

You collapsed backwards, your head on Jim’s boxers. You felt him hard, immediately deciding that you’re going to fall sleep, play dead. You could actually pass out, he could do whatever, you couldn’t deal with your mind at the moment. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, sat up straight, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you in. Only it wasn't you. He kissed that someone, moaning into her lips. She fell like a ragdoll onto his chest and he cradled her, brushing the hair with his fingers.

You slept in. Woke up and fell back asleep a couple of times, actually. You weren’t ready to give your brain another chance to work just yet. It fucked up. It fucked up so bad. Jim left you breakfast. His idea of breakfast never involved eggs. You could not look at yourself in the mirror. You thought you left shame behind. You held yourself accountable and never acted before you were sure you’d be okay living with your decisions. Should you hold yourself accountable for thoughts? Thoughts you couldn’t control. And you tried. For longer than you could admit.

‘This rotten feeling, this disgust with yourself will go away’ - you told yourself. Let it simmer, process it, and it will pass. Will be recycled and forgotten.

It was a mistake to even think about him in any capacity. It wasn’t your intention. But here you were, facing the truth that you will miss his touch no matter how much time passes.

You tried to test it in the morning, lying there next to your fiancé, his hand on your stomach, felt like any other morning. Eyes closed, you tried to trick your brain, concentrate on the weight of Jim’s hand, imagine the hand belongs to another. To him. And as soon as your imagination kicked in, the tug in your stomach twisted, heating up your cheeks, like some kind of engine. Nothing in your reality changed, it was all in your head. It was the end the world. That experiment.

Truly sadistic, you hated yourself in a way so profound, you found every way to ruin your own peace. Never left a negative emotion alone, always picking, digging, looking for something, always making it worse. Then cry when you found it.

You truly felt like the worst human on the planet. At least actual “bad” people never attempted to be good, they’d probably do a better job at it. It was their choice to do bad things. You made all the right choices and still failed.

Not being able to eat, you took a sip of green tea, you had to be rational. It’s not like it doesn’t happen to other people. The only reason you fantasized about your ex is because you were stressed thinking about him, and you were stressed thinking about him because of Riley. If Riley was here, none of it would happen. You had to make sure Kennedy was alive, for Riley’s sake. It still made sense to you. And actually, it was all in your head. Your memories. You missed your memories, not a real person. You bet if you saw him now, you wouldn’t feel a thing. Other than regret, disappointment.

He must be miserable, drinking his health away. Health is what makes us attractive at the end of the day. It’s all chemicals. So, if you were to see him, you’d be disappointed and feel adequate again.

And you will appreciate Jim for what Jim was. Stable, put together. There was no reason to lose your mind just yet.

Maybe you lost it, actually. Because you were pulling up every illegal way to look up your ex’s motorcycle license plates. You had a vague polaroid of Riley next to it, from that one time you saw each other. She looked too excited and happy. Like she won a treasure hunt. You had o take a picture. To busy your hands, because meeting him was awkward. Riley made it less awkward. Saved you every time. Your poor little girl. It would all be okay.

Did he get any tickets? Where did he park? You did not recall all the numbers, only a fragment of the plate visible in the picture, and it turned out there were too many similar motorcycles around. And he could’ve moved. Probably did, so it was a dead end. You scoffed, closing the laptop. ‘Repair shops’ sparked in your brain. For being your worst enemy, sometimes that brain was useful. You called up every repair shop you could find, asking if they had any experience with the particular model, acting like you needed their services. Had a list, had a car, had a whole day to drive around and interrogate them about a particular customer.

You read them well, you knew people; could tell when they didn’t know anything useful and weren’t lying. Until you saw a flicker of recognition in the eyes of one repair shop owner as you were showing him a picture, you didn’t look at the picture. The owner had thick moustache and tattoos. Tough case. The likes of him never ratted out people. Not for a low price at least.

You swore you could’ve bought a bike with the money that it cost you, but now you knew that your ex introduced himself as “Scott” (how original, went by the middle name), few times had a drink or two with the owner. And needed help with his motorcycle every once in a while, it was always ‘a gruesome sight’. Yeah, sounds right.

So, the bar was the only clue you managed to find. Maybe with the magic you possessed, or liked to think that you possessed, it would be enough.

So, you went home, put on makeup, got dressed. You had to look good to feel confident. And headed to the bar.

So, naturally… You spent few hours looking around the bar, trying not to look suspicious, attempting to see him in vain. For a second you found yourself feeling like a predator, a siren, some succubus; looking for her prey. Willing it to appear. But that didn’t happen.

Naturally.

Why would it? Magic wasn’t real, you knew it. But it was nice to pretend sometimes. If magic wasn’t real then wishing for Riley to be okay was useless. Then none of it made sense.

You asked for another drink. It was time to come to your senses. Time to own up to everything, to the mess you found yourself orchestrating. Maybe you just had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t deserve the life you wanted. Maybe you didn’t want it to begin with. Maybe Jim’s mother was right. You were playing a role, she saw right through you.

Jim’s mother was a hateful cunt. You downed the drink in one go and asked for another.

But she was right. You were playing roles for as long as you knew how to. You wanted to prove to others so badly that you’re worth something. Your parents always found a way to devalue your achievements; if they weren’t tangible, that meant they were up for grabs. And your parents grabbed them and twisted, making sure you understand that it wasn’t yours. And if it was, it was wrong somehow. They always found a flaw and made it their mission to put that flaw of yours on a pedestal of your being. So, you wanted to prove them you’re capable, reaching for every medal to drown that pedestal in gold. To show them that they weren’t wrong for pointing it out, because fuck, you weren’t perfect. But they were wrong for doubting you. For not loving you the way that you needed. For making you feel like the worst creature ever, for simply having emotions.

They made you feel evil for caring. Made you feel manipulative for having enough empathy to measure your reactions to circumstances. And you caved in, you trusted that they saw the real you, so you became what they wanted and tried to fix this person, so they recognize that it’s you, but you’re better now. And it never fucking worked. Tears of pure frustration and grief crawled down your face. Shameful tears, defeated. You tried t break this person you created with their help. Tried to become someone you respected for a change. Became an elite agent. And you did ruin her. You ruined her till there was nothing left but a smoldering ribcage that struggled to keep all the memories. You just had no idea that you’d have to live inside that girl you destroyed, after the fact. That this girl is all that you’ll ever have. Honest to God, you did not think of that.

“Got stood up?” – some guy sat down across you, a drink in his hand.

You tried to wipe the tears away with your fist and ended up pressing both hands to your eyes, a couple of sobs falling through, - “Just… Go!” – you almost growled, hating him for making you realize you’re in public. Hating him for making you be mean to another human. You weren’t mean. You were a good person.

The guy made a comedic face, loudly announcing ‘what a bitch’ to his friends to make his exist. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, you face squeezing, tears dripping from the elbows, head shaking. Everything was the worst ever.

Is this how he deals with everything? Does whiskey treat him better? Does life treat him better? It doesn’t matter. You hoped it did. It did treat him better. If you could find something that would make the pain and the bitterness a little less intense, you’d take it. It wasn’t your fault alcohol just never worked. Nothing ever worked and maybe it was your fault after all. You breathed for a while, hands in your eyes, like it’s going to hide you. Waited till the noise got quieter. And left.  

Another morning at noon. You felt like shit, staring at the white walls, perfectly pained. You did a good job. You were good at painting things over. Different paint, same walls underneath. Called off the plumbers, they insisted on coming over, claimed there was some thing with the new plastic tubes not being connected to the steel ones properly because they messed up; they could do it another day. You didn’t want to see a soul today. Or ever. Your ‘vacation’ was coming to it’s end soon, maybe routine will bring you back to life. It always helped. You were no good out of loop. Couldn’t be trusted with your own life. They were all right, all of them.

Maybe the dissociated state that you found yourself in was better than being unnerved at every little movement. Maybe it was better to feel nothing for a change, to think about nothing. There was no point in thinking about anything when everything was doomed anyway.

It wasn’t really, but it felt like it. You’d call up Clara, you’d go back to work, you’d see Jim’s smile, you’d hug Riley. It will all fall back. Another round at trying, a little more cracks here and there, but it will fall back. You noticed a tiny line on the wall, just next to the door, where the paint didn’t reach.

You still had some left, it was for the kitchen, but it didn’t matter if you had to waste a bucket to cover up that little mistake. You always paid an unreasonable price for the smallest mistakes, it made sense.

Just as you were finishing up, the phone rang. So loud it startled you and a big splash of paint crushed into your t-shirt, some streaks dripping down onto jeans. “Fuck” – you murmured and walked up to answer – “Yes?” – annoyed at no one but yourself.

Turned out you forgot your bag at the bar. Placed it carefully under the table, so no one spots an easy target to rob, as you cried your eyes out like a pathetic fool. Well, no one spotted; not even you.

You walked up to the bar, didn’t even care to change, not in the mood to drive (mostly, not in the condition to park, driving was the easy part). Thanked the bartender, making sure you’re extra nice to make up for your angry tone over the phone. Took your bag, tipping well for not keeping it to himself, checked the insides (all there) and was about to leave when you turned around and froze for a moment.

A huge surprised smile found it’s place on your face before you knew how to react. You saw him staring at you, a surprised face; perhaps his one was a little more sincere, you just played a role. Time to be social.

“What? Hey!” – you pointed awkwardly at him, at yourself and waved, laughing.

He smiled, rising his eyebrows shaking his head in disbelief – “Hey?”

You sat down at his table, a surge of uncontainable bravado coming over, - “What a… I did not expect…” – you laughed like it was the most bizarre coincidence in the world. Your head ringing.

He just shook his head agreeing, apparently, couldn’t find the words, it seemed, - “Me neither?”

You both laughed politely, nervously. What the actual fuck?

“Really?” – you were not ready for this. Autopilot speaking.

“What? Yeah, I… I promise I did not stalk you.” – he took a sip of something, smiling. Your eyes following the glass. Still drinking? You asked the bartender for a soda.

You were not prepared to see Leon. Especially not when you were wearing old jeans, an oversized t-shirt, all covered in paint, last night’s makeup barely rinsed with water, mascara still sitting around your eyes in black circles. You got yourself into it. Well, maybe your magic did work after all. Maybe it was him who had to be disappointed for you to let go.

You rubbed your eyebrows, stressed, but with a big polite grin.

“I did not even think of that, now you’re giving me ideas!” – you smiled. If only he knew. If only. – “So… Umm… What are you doing here?” – took a sip of the soda, it stuck in your throat.

He looked better than the last time you saw him. A clean shave, sitting up tall, same features, his hair cut recently - “Waiting for you apparently.”

You laughed, pointing at your clothes – “Well I wasn’t…”

“What…” – he looked you up and down, - “is that?”

You bit your lip and smiled proudly – “I’m renovating!”

“Renovating? Your apartment?” – was it even a real conversation?

How do you even talk to someone who used to live under your skin when you’re pretending to be strangers?

“Exactly. We’re moving in, with my fiancé and all… I decided to renovate it a little, before selling” – you kept smiling, looking away.

Boundaries. That’s how you do it.

“Your fiancé?” – you noticed his eyes scanning your fingers for a moment. You weren’t lying, you just didn’t wear the ring. – “That’s a… Congratulations.”

Congratulations? Really?

“Um… Thanks?” – suddenly you felt uncomfortable, your smile started to feel too fake to upkeep. You didn’t feel like it was something you had a right to accept congratulations for.

The initial shock backing out, taking the heightened boost of confidence with it. You sighed. What now?

A moment of silence.

“How’s the job?” – you looked at him, waiting for the answer so you could ask your questions. You had many.

“It’s fine. The usual.” – he looked more solemn by the second as well.

Why would he lie? The path to questions blocked. Was it his way to keep boundaries?

“Yeah well… I don’t want to hear about the usual.” – you tightened your face in a smile.

He was the one lying. You had it all figured out, your life, you didn’t lie; and he couldn’t be honest. So, it was you who’d be disappointed, not him.

“I know.” – he looked back at you. That was him, the eyes, not the polite bullshit. And suddenly it hurt more than you imagined.

“Yeah… Well.” – there was truly nothing else to say, - “You seem to love that usual so…” – except you had everything to say.

But you won’t. There was no point. Chose the job over you, obviously was fine with it. It was the past. He didn’t say anything. Had nothing to say, did he?

“You look thinner” – he commented, studying your frame.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, - “It’s just the t-shirt. And a lack of training. Muscles go down, you know. I gained weight actually.” – you tried hard to be nonchalant, talkative. That meant you were comfortable, people talked when they were comfortable. But you were anything but. So uncomfortable under his stare. He noticed you looked smaller; did he remember how you looked that well? How you felt? Does he still think about it?

He better not think about it. That would make you uncomfortable. You felt a slight burn under your eyes, heat spreading to your face.

“Okay.” – there was a glimmer of something mocking in his eyes.

“What?” – you tilted you head, exaggerated annoyance on your face. If you talked and if you were engaged, he might not see through you. Might be distracted.

“Nothing” – he pressed the glass to his lips.

“Oh, come on, what is it?”

He smiled into the glass, laughing to himself about something, - “Nothing, it’s just… Your idea of weight is hilarious. Always been.” – he swallowed whatever it was that he was drinking. Yeah, he’s so big and muscular and your weight is a joke in comparison, you get it. Very funny. You watched his neck move, remembering how it felt under your lips. ‘Always been’ so he remembers. Of course, he does, why wouldn’t he? People don’t just forget others, as much as you convinced yourself you could. Something stoic in you ordered to do everything in your power to make it stop. There had to be a way to make him unappealing.

“You still drink?” – come on, lie some more.

“Only before seeing you.” – he put the glass down, - “Kind of like a habit.”

He was basking in his humor before seeing your hurt expression, - “Come on, it was a joke.”

You just stared at him, wounded, - “It wasn’t funny.” – the muscles around your eyes contracted, but you kept it under control – “Was I a joke to you?”

Some sadness flickered in his eyes, a hint of shame? You needed more than a hint and a lot more than a flicker. How could he do this to you?

“I’m sorry.”

‘For the joke or…?” – you shrugged, mockingly. What was it? Spell it out, asshole.

He had this way of looking at you, like you were on the other side of the ocean and he was just trying to understand the message by clues. You were clear and loud.

What did he see on the other side? - “For everything.”

You scoffed, how typical. How easy. For everything. Everything, nothing. It was so simple. For everyone. No one. Always. Never.

“Okay.” – another fake smile, angry tears threatening to come out. You nodded, laughing, - “Okay.”

He blinked a couple times, faster than usual, sighed deeply, called your name. You were looking at the table. Nice wooden table, you’d like a table like that. Jim should get a table like that.

“I mean it. It wasn’t a joke for me either. It was hell.”

“Oh!” – you laughed, not bothering to wipe the tear that fell, it wasn’t a sad tear. It was rage, - “It was hell! That’s umm… Nice to know.”

He called your name again. Were you making a scene? Embarrassing him maybe?

“I apologize profusely for the hell that I was to you, the thing is - I did not know.” – you put a hand to your heart, it was pounding – “Honesty, I had no idea.”

He shook his head, annoyed at something. At himself, you hoped, - “Please?”

“What?” – you demanded.

“Don’t.”

“What?” – you shrugged.

“I’m happy to see you. Don’t… - “

“Oh, you’re happy? I’m sorry, I thought I was hell, I didn’t figure out you were happy. You’re just very hard to figure out, I guess.”

“It was hell seeing you go through… Everything. And it was hell making it worse.”

“It was your choice.”

“Was it?”

You shrugged, it was obvious, - “You could’ve quit.” – like you did now, you almost added.

“I really couldn’t” – he seemed so sincere. Liar. – “You can’t think it’s that easy.”

“I managed.”

“Yeah, and I had to pull some strings for that, strings that bind me.”

“What strings? Those missions? – he didn’t say a word, - “I didn’t ask you.” – more silence, - “You still could’ve left. Just stay, hide. It’s your goddamn life.” – it was ours.

“Yeah, you do that and they go after your family.”

“Well, you didn’t have one.” – you spat out before realizing you hurt him. That was just a fact, why is he acting hurt?

Oh. The realization hit. He meant you. They’d go after you. Family. You inhaled sharply through your nose, and blew the air out of your mouth.

“Anyway, I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right. And it seems to have worked out.”

“What are the indications?”

“You seem to be happy.” – it was a little ridiculous to say that in the situation, so you both laughed, tension relieved. You understood what he meant though and nodded.

He did what he thought was right. Leaving you was right. You heard enough and asked if he’d mind walking for a while, you needed some air.

And the night’s air was exactly what you needed. Wasn’t too cold, but inhaling it tickled your nose up to the forehead, a sensation to focus on. Something to keep you grounded.  

You talked about your job at the university, briefly, small talk. About your life with Jim. A talk between strangers who once had a chance. Or whatever. Strangers who did the right thing. Strangers who weren’t convenient for each other anymore.

You found yourself looking for his approval. Telling him about how great your life was in all shapes and colors. He mostly listened. You talked about how friends disappear once you work for something you’re not allowed to talk about, he agreed. It was nice talking to someone who could relate, despite the hurt.

Your home security alarm went off, you set advanced motion detectors in each room, helped your anxiety to be under control. Or maybe helped your anxiety to take deeper roots, caving in to fears. It was your bathroom. Strangely, the alarm didn’t go off for the hallway, did someone enter through the ventilation? Leon asked if it could be Riley, your heart sank. You told him Riley was taken away, that she’s having a surgery tomorrow. He asked many questions about the apartment, practical ones, tactical even; about the windows and who had the keys, but insisted he’d check it out with you. ‘You won’t go there alone’. Oh, but you could. And he knew you could. You’d stare at the walls for days afterwards, listening to the sounds outside of your window, like a broken robot, but you could. You had a feeling you’d be doing that regardless. It was sweet that he was acting like a gentleman. And you couldn’t lie, you wanted him around. Just somewhere around. You felt like he took away some vigilance. Like you could finally not overthink what was happening over your shoulders.

Reminiscing the missions you took on together, you got inside, expecting anything but what has really happened.

The plumbers were right, the tubes were not connected right; you entered a steamed-up apartment, hot water pouring out of the bathroom. Ditching the jackets in the hallway, Leon turned the screw between the tubes as you blocked water supply, making jokes about it rather being robbers.

“I just hope I don’t flood the neighbors.” – you said, mopping up the remaining water.

“You’re selling it anyway, think of them as somebody else’s neighbors.”

You laughed, just noticing how he got wet all over.

“Hold up, I’ll get you dry clothes.” – you walked away followed by his loud protests.

He genuinely looked upset, angry and embarrassed as you handed him a pile of clothes. You couldn’t just send him home soaking wet, could you?

You also realized you had to make tea. Him being home put your mind at ease. Except it wasn’t home, it was a half-destroyed by your ‘renovations’ apartment for sale, and he wasn’t there really, just happened to step in. It didn’t matter. It was enough for your brain to feel better and you’d take it.

Leon walked out of the bathroom in dry clothes, a look of absolute confusion on his face, - “Is this my clothes?”

Whose clothes did he think you’d give him?

“Yeah, obviously.”

He didn’t say a word. You pointed him to sit, a cup of mint tea ready. He took a sip, contemplating something, frowning even.

“What’s the matter?”

He looked at you, an expression you couldn’t read. That was new. – “Why do you have my clothes?”

“You left it here. You… kept it here.” – you explained. Was he suggesting you stole it?

 “No, I know that. Why do you keep it?”

That was a weird question. – “What was I supposed to do with it? Throw it away?”

“I guess.”

You both stared at each other in utter confusion. Was he being weird or were you weird for not throwing it away? Why did it seem weird now? Even to you. But how could you?

You never touched it nor looked at it. Kept it hidden at the back of your wardrobe. How could he suggest that you’d throw it away? You spent a couple years by now, dreading that all that will be left of him was a bag of dust. You’d like to have something to hold on to.

These thoughts made your heart race. He was alive and well. Next to you. Talking. Looking confused, but that will do. That means Riley is going to be alright. No one is turning into ashes, not today. Not ever.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a heart to… You should take it. You can take it back. There’s another t-shirt I think…”

You didn’t want to weird him out. You were a little unsettled, but he had to understand.

He sighed, looked around, something heavy on his mind. You knew, yeah, same. Fucking same.

He stood up, - “About Riley…” – he started. You stood up as well, alarmed. Did he know something? You realized he probably knew they put down dogs that weren’t useful. Who spent time off duty. Just to spite the good. They were evil like that. You knew that, refused to think about it, but you knew. Took one person you cared about, now they were about to kill your dog. Your happy little girl. She wasn’t a soldier; she never saw blood. Just your pain. Spent her whole life with your sadness, maybe it was better for her to be taken away, you were ready to hear anything, - “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see how things are and report back, okay?” – you tried to breathe evenly, there’s no need to be weird. – “She’s going to back in no time.”

You nodded, a bit too much. Okay. Yes. You’d like that. There was no logical reason to believe him, you knew he was out of the system and lied. But he never let you down when it came to these things. Until he did, once. You’d forgive that.

You’d forgive anything. Your façade broken, standing there, looking at him. A collection of pieces put together all wrong. Barely holding on, out of place. You smashed those pieces even when they didn’t fit, applying too much force in anger. It was all spite and resilience. But he made you feel like your rage was excessive. And it all fell apart. Every time you saw him after he came back from these missions, you’d fall apart. Like the strings holding it all together gave up on you. Like the whole world gave up on you, but not him. He was back and he was okay with the scattered pieces. It hurt putting it all back together when he left. But it hurt holding on to this monstrous cadaver as well.

You took a step and he hugged you, one arm over the shoulders, space in between. Like a goodbye hug between friends. You reciprocated, hugged him tighter, both hands, your temple touching his ear, cheek touching a side of his neck. Right there, this is where you belonged. For a moment the world made sense.

You could easily let him lie to you, hurt you, it didn’t matter. You tried to live without him and you failed. You knew better now. He smelled good; right. Did he know it was yours? The way he smelled, that you carried it in your heart, that meant it was yours. Did he know that he was yours?

Did he realize that you were his? For what it was worth. For no reason at all.

He put a second hand on your shoulder and you didn’t wait for him to kiss you, you waited too long, it was too slow, you went for it. He stalled you with a hand, warm hand gripping your collarbone.

“Leon…” – you slurred, nudging your head. It was all there. Everything in the world.

He almost whispered, - “What are you doing?”

What were you doing? You didn’t know. You didn’t think. You did what made sense, there was no use to think about it, that was the point. That’s why it was right. You looked at his face, glass eyes, blown. You loved him. That’s what you were doing. You lunged forward, him stopping you once more, he called your name, carefully. Calling to you to understand something. There was nothing to understand.

“You’re engaged. What is this?” – tone upset but still sympathetic, like a teacher who found it’s most promising student cheating on a test. ‘I will let it slide, but don’t do this again’ tone. ‘Don’t you see where this is going’ tone. ‘You’re better than that’ tone. You weren’t better. And you didn’t care.

“I don’t care,” – you were honest. You’ll break up tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter then, why should it matter now? There was a delay, but ultimately the outcome would be this. Why did it matter?

“You should.” – Leon not even looking at you, looking at his hand holding your frame.

“I don’t,” – you repeated. No emotion, just honesty.

“I do.”

“You shouldn’t,” – you got closer, just for him to hold you tighter in place, keeping space.

“I should. And you should. You can’t do this.” – some anger coming to the surface, - “You’re not using me to ruin your life.”

You couldn’t process anything he was saying. This concerned look on his face, like you were in some altered state, like you weren’t all there. But you were. You were all there. All there and nowhere else.

“Kiss me?” – you pleaded, you didn’t have it in you to talk, there was nothing to talk about.

“No.”

“Please?” – you begged.

“I’m seeing someone.”

He let go when he was sure you wouldn’t attempt to get closer. But you didn’t get it. So what? It was great that he was seeing someone. He was seeing you at the moment though. And you were seeing him. So close and real and it felt like home. “Okay.” – you said.

“You’re going to be okay?” – he took his jacket. You didn’t understand whether it was a question or a statement. Everything a blur. You nodded. Whatever he said. And he was gone.

It was okay. He was okay, looked great, healthy, better. Riley would be okay. That’s what you decided earlier, if he’s okay, then she’s okay. And if they are okay, you’ll be fine. And he promised she’ll be back. Between her and him, at least Riley will be back.

You slept in peace.

Called the plumbers in the morning, watched them fix the problem. You were happy they had this ability to fix something. Just few hours ago there was a problem, and now the problem was gone. You weren’t jealous, but you admired it. You made peace with the idea that your problems weren’t up for any fixing.

You weren’t made to fix anything, just to break. That’s the way you were brought up. You build just to break. Then you stand there looking at the ruins, lamenting the parts you got used to. And you dream about them, then you wake up.

It won’t be any different this time. It just won’t be any different.

And it was comforting.

You sipped a day-old tea, thinking about anything but the future. Tea leaves grow for some time, they must think being connected to earth, sucking in sunlight and being green is what their life is all about. They must find comfort in that. Then they get ripped, and dried. And it must feel like death, like there’s nothing ahead. The green turning brown, curling up on themselves to find some comfort. And then, it only makes sense if they find some peace being under the sun, they realize their existence is all about something different now. Still in the sun, still whatever they used to be, but different. And just as they come to terms with it, they get boiled. And it must feel like a death too, but you bet water soothes them, makes them soft again, takes away all the pain and the sunlight they’ve been hold onto, the flavor. And it’s all good once more. Then you drink it. You drink it and you think that you’ll be fine.

It was exhausted being sorry for simply being you. Food felt like an enemy. Sometimes you wished there was something wrong with you. Something that would make people feel sorry for you. To inspire pity instead of resentment. You got blamed and hit for the things that hurt you too. Beating you when you’re down. To teach you a lesson, like they had a right and like it was noble and you knew. You knew and you agreed, but it wasn’t your fault. You wish you were different. You tried to be different. You wanted people to recognize it. You wanted them to see that no, you didn’t do this to yourself. You did, but you wish you didn’t.

You wish you could be as coherent as others. You wish they recognized that you were on their side. On their side against yourself. You agreed with every punishment. Weren’t you good enough at least for that? Haven’t you secured a place on the Noah's Ark for yourself with that? Haven’t you earned it? You didn’t want to be left alone with all the monsters to be forgotten.

It was cruel to create a monster just to have someone to hate. But if that’s the role, you’d play it. Clinging to at least some belonging.

The dinner that you hosted at your apartment the next day came to its conclusion. Just like everything. Free trial of a life that never was yours. Jim praised you one more time, one last time perhaps. He reached in his pocket to check the keys before going out, took out a small circular metal piece, his mood transforming. It felt like watching a scene from a movie you already saw. A hundred times; you used to watch it as a kid, rewatched it with friends growing up, sharing the experience. So, by now, it was too familiar to engage.

“You know, I’m not even angry with you. i just know… I know that it’s gonna catch up to you.” – fast forward to where Jim was done trying to make you change your mind. He never had a chance, - “It’s women like you. you think the world is your playground. You take what you want and you get away with it.” – He was holding the ring, shaking it; you imagined the ring wasn’t there, he’d look as if he’s making an impression of an Italian, - “You want a new job, you take it. You want to change it, you do it. You want a new hobby, you go after it, leaving the old one half way, after you already purchased God knows how many-… You want someone’s attention, you trade people.” – He was struggling to make a point. Was there a point to make? – “And you think it’s all you. You think it’s your choice, but you do not choose. You’re being chosen because you’re a nice choice, you’re expendable. And your problem is, you think you’ll keep getting away with it, but you won’t. Once you get older, and trust me you don’t have much left, you will find out that the real world is different. The doors that people open up for you will be closed and you will be miserable, lonely and old. Knowing it’s all your fault. Knowing that you discarded every good thing you put minimal effort into because you thought you could get something better because the world lied to you, and you actually believed you deserved better. Because you’re ungrateful, selfish, self-absorbed-…” – there it is, - “Next time you play the victim, I want you to remember that. I know you’ll make all this,” – he gestured around, - “, into you being a victim somehow as well. I want you to know it’s your fault.”

You stared at him, stirred your tea in a cup, tea leaves looked relaxed in pale yellow liquid, - “What the fuck do you know about the real world? Your parents paid your way into college.” – all you said calmly.

And that’s how he was gone.

Jim was right about so many things, he was smart. But he was also full of anger. In his world, everything fell into place. All he had to do was to agree to it. And he assumed it was the same with you. That you just didn’t agree with the pieces that didn’t assemble easily. It wasn’t true. This was the only part he was wrong about. You had to work for every piece. You had to work for everything you ever had, because no one handed you a thing, punishing you for not being the way they wanted you to be. And when you work hard for it, you have every right to let it go. It’s yours to destroy. And you’ll work to make something else, you have it in you.

And it won’t work again, but it was okay. You sat alone; your apartment half-renovated, half-destroyed, half-old. Fitting. You will never sell it for anything better. You couldn’t know what to do with anything better. Didn’t deserve anything better, and the better didn’t deserve you.

A surge of relief came over; you thanked the universe for dragging you out of the state of constantly worrying about your kids. It felt like saving someone who never existed. Just imagine the lives of children raised by someone who ruined everything she created and a man grudging this much resentment and hate towards whatever she created. They would be so hated and ruined. They wouldn’t be. You had too much love in you to let them go through something like this.

If the only love that was yours to give was meant to be distant, you’d take it. You’d love people enough to keep them away. All you wanted in return was their understanding. You hoped they were thankful.

You could never fix yourself, so you tried to fix others, disregarding boundaries because how could you not? You were giving them the best of you, the only good you had, and watched them walk away. It didn’t work out well. So, you tried giving yourself to those who didn’t need fixing. And figured you had nothing to give. All you had was broken parts that could fit to cover up the cracks. You didn’t have a full thing. Came pre-damaged in a box that wasn’t carefully delivered.

Your thesis project never revealed itself because you couldn’t work on something you didn’t fully care about. And working on something you cared about was too personal, too intimate. You feared others reading it and seeing all your vices. Realizing you’re a bad person. It would ruin all the chances of clinging to the image you attempted to grow into. But right now, it didn’t matter. You set your mind on the project. You’d write about the therapeutic relationship, the relationship between a healthcare professional and a client, from the perspective of a professional. It was decided long ago and just now fell into place. And you’d do it for the sake of stating your piece, not for a PhD. You had nothing to prove. You proved yourself enough. And it was enough.

Riley was happy to be back, greeting you at the clinic. It was just a harmless cyst they removed. You still had your suspicions, but they were subsided when you signed the papers. Apparently, there was an issue with you being a handler, they were evaluating whether they should make you go through the procedures proving you really needed a service animal, not just an emotional support pet. In truth, you needed Riley, and Riley needed you, her wagging tail and hugs being the confirmation.

Riley didn’t know you were a fuck-up. Riley loved you through the worst. It was selfish of you, but you were selfish like that. There was no changing something this fundamental.

You sat in the car looking at her. Where would you take her? Your apartment still a mess, paint and wallpaper, dismantled furniture.

Was it worse to not be able to ever get what you want, or to be able to get whatever, but to never know what it is that you wanted? Every desire, every effort, every door leading to the wrong room. And then you have to fight your way out.

You blamed others for not seeing you your whole life, but now you didn’t even see yourself. It wasn’t all bad, all good, but just enough chaos to make the effort trying to decipher it all useless.

So, the effort was useless. It was the right thing to leave you all along, he was right. Leon was smart as well. He’d rather drown himself in poison than see you, and leaving you was right. He was seeing someone. You hoped that was someone better. Someone worth the effort. There was no jealousy. If he had something good, it would be something you weren’t fitted for regardless. It’s not like someone could ever take your place, you had no place to occupy. But you were his, in a way. You hoped he didn’t think about it too much, but it would be good if he knew that. And he was yours. In some way. No one could take it away, not even him.

A when he came over in few days, you sensed that he knew. Leon claimed that he wanted to make sure Riley’s home. You thanked him, for asking, for aiding, you didn’t know if it was his doing. You knew, but you didn’t know if it made seeing him easier. Still sedated by the events, you figured it’s best not to do too much. For when emotions were to kick it, it would be too much rubble to pick the good out of. You were ready for the mess; all you could do was make it less of a problem for your future self.

And Riley was about to sleep, you spent the day locking all the mess in your room, so she can be safe. So, you went outside, for a walk. Didn’t want the image of him in your apartment to linger. You’d never finish renovating, wouldn’t dare to let go. Stubborn. It didn’t matter now, but it would later. Cushioning the fall is the only strategy you subscribed to.

You walked for some time; he was still walking with the version of you that still had it all together. You didn’t know with which version of him you were walking. It didn’t matter, you were okay with any version. He was asking questions about your work again, a safe topic. Keeping the distance. You already told him everything there was to tell. What was even the point?

“Do you like me?”

He looked at you, from the other side of the ocean. It wasn’t storming this time. Still water, perhaps more dangerous than the waves, - “What kind of question is that?” – he hesitated, careful, - “Of course I like you.”

“No, I know…” you wanted to have a conversation, not with your ex-boyfriend, ex-partner, not with a friend or a guy you were trying to steal from someone, not with any social role you were forced to play. You wanted to ask him, soul to soul. Outside of time and space. Honest opinion, no obligations. – “I know… But do you like me?”

The raw honesty in your voice made him realize it was larger than that, - “I do…” – he slowed down slightly, - “I always liked you… I admire you, you know.”

You didn’t like that answer. What’s worse is that it didn’t feel like a lie, - “So you don’t know me at all then.”

“I do know you.” – he’s almost offended at that. That’s good, let him be offended and tell what he actually thinks, - “I always did… I didn’t understand you at first.” – good, you wanted details, - “It didn’t make sense to me why you even volunteered for training to begin with. Thought you were naïve. You had a choice and you didn’t have to do it. I didn’t have a choice,” – he was recalling, - “But then I realized that it made me angry because I envied you.” – that was new, you tried to place those feelings of his onto your memories, it didn’t land. He saw your efforts and clarified, - “That was before we started talking.” Did he think about you before you actually worked together? You didn’t even know of him before that. – “And it was comforting, that someone with something to lose would choose to do what I had to. Made me feel better about the whole thing. For a while…”

You wanted to make him see, it was fraud, - “Yeah well, I don’t stick to my choices.”

“I know. That’s what I like about you. You know what you want and you’re not afraid to do whatever it takes to get it.” – so confident and so wrong, - “And when you don’t want it anymore, you’re not afraid to let go.” – wrong again.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that…” – you sighed.

“I’m sure. What is it about anyway?” – he finally glued his eyes off the pavement and looked at you, - “Cold feet?”

“What?” – you looked back.

He was looking at you with the care and sympathy of a pet owner before putting said pet to sleep, - “The wedding and all.”

“Oh,” – you caught the drift, - “No.” – he had primitive thoughts, you were figuring yourself out, not chickening out before the altar. You never even got there in your own head, why did he drag you there in his thoughts, weirdo - “What are you… No!” – you looked scandalized, - “We broke up actually.”

“What?” – you liked surprising people, - “When? I didn’t know that.” – he’s suddenly not so dramatic anymore, - “What happened?”

“Nothing.” – you muttered, still mad at him for marrying you off in his head.

“People don’t call off weddings without a reason”

For fucks sake, - “There was no wedding. There was an engagement for no reason, we ended it for no reason.”

“So, it was mutual?”

The image of Jim shaking the ring in anger appeared before you, - “More or less.”

Leon tried to suppress some weird emotion. You gave him a mean side-eye. Gloating that you failed at something decent? You thought of him better.

“I’m sorry.” – the change in his pace begged to differ.

“I should be” – you say, mirroring his words earlier, - “But I’m not.”

“So, there will be no doves at the wedding after all.”

“Who even does that anymore?” – why was he so fixated on that fucking… - “Oh.” – you got the joke. Doves. Dove. Him and his fucking jokes. You wanted to hit him.

It was cathartic for you. You wanted him to hang onto your words, looking into your eyes and have a deep conversation, not this childish… - “As I said, this is why I like you, you’re brave.”

Where was this coming from?

“You don’t like something and you’re not afraid to let it go.”

“I am afraid.” – you corrected, he had you all wrong, - “I’m so afraid, actually, all the time. You know it.”

“That’s the part of it. You’re afraid and you still do it. Can’t be brave if you’re not afraid at all.” – he’d make a great motivational speaker.

“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid.”

“I’ve never seen you do anything stupid.”

“You’re blind then.” – the conversation you wanted to be profound turned into some elementary bickering at this point.

“Name one thing.”

“I’ll name a hundred.”

“Go ahead, I’m all ears.”

Something broken tugged on your heart at that, calling in pain from the rubble. Something buried alive under all the mess. The screams you tried to ignore.

“Let you go.”

And with that you killed the comfort you organized between each other. Destroying boundaries once again, your forte.

He ignored it, pretended you didn’t say it. Shut off. He wanted to hear it, he asked. Are you to blame again?

“It was the smartest you’ve ever been.” – he finally said, taking your hand in his for comfort, a sign that he wasn’t mad you brought it up. Words so heavy with sadness, but there was no anger directed at you.

You were walking in circles by then, just patrolling the streets, no goals and no directions.

“Not how I see it.” – you doubled down, your hand fit so right in his. You loved ruining things.

He just squeezed your hand slightly, like he understood where you were coming from, but didn’t agree.

You felt worlds away. He was somewhere in his head you couldn’t reach, somewhere in the past with his codename references, somewhere in the future with his fantasies of your wedding. You were nowhere but in the present. And it made sense, you had no place in his present. But you were there, and he refused to let you in. It was lonely. It felt lonely holding his hand when he was like this.

“Don’t be mad at me.” – you found your voice in silence.

He looked at you, tired confusion, - “What happened?”

“Just in general.” – you trembled.

He stopped to take a look at you. There was no point. He wouldn’t get it.

“I just…” – you felt the tears coming, - “Everyone is mad at me.” – you confessed.

He pulled you in closer like a bag of bones and hugged, - “Hey… Come on...” – he caressed your head. Pity hug. You were okay with it. You wanted pity. Didn’t care if it was pathetic.

“Let them be mad,” – he said in secrecy.

“I’m going to die alone and everyone’s going to be mad at me.” – not even Clara could get that truth out of you.

Leon took you by the shoulders and looked you straight in the eyes, testing if you were serious about something this ridiculous. It wasn’t ridiculous, it was true.

“Who told you that?”

“I did.”

He just blinked, thoughts running through, - “Well don’t say that,” – like it was this simple, - “Fuck, don’t say that.” – he cradled you in his arms again, hold closer, let go and pressed his lips to yours, soft, - “Don’t fucking say that, okay?”

You blinked, trying to assess the situation, grabbed his jacket, so he doesn’t go anywhere while you’re on it. You just needed a moment; ‘don’t you dare disappear.’ ‘Don’t you dare disappear on me again.’

“You-…” – you looked, eyes hazy, confused. And he kissed you again. This time a proper kiss, you made a sound to get his attention. Hold on. Just hold on, now. Break.

“I thought you were seeing someone.” – you whispered, accusing. It was okay for you to disregard others like that, you held him to a higher standard.

“I’m not seeing anyone.” – he looked like he’d say anything to get back to kissing you, a sudden change from the cold shoulder hugs and hand squeezing just moments ago.

“Did you break-up-…” - Did he feel it too? Did he realize no one else comes close? Had to breakup just after seeing you once?

“No, there wasn’t anyone. I just said that.” – that will do. Or will it?

“Why would you just say something like that?”

“I don’t know. I got scared.”

What? – “You got scared?”

“Yeah, I got scared. You were about to ruin everything, because you got carried away for a moment.” – you could feel his heart beating from where you were holding onto his jacket, - “Couldn’t let you do that. And then you’d hate me for it.”

“I would never hate you.” – you kissed him this time, and he pulled you closer, - “I wouldn’t” – you promised.

“Sorry,” – he said in between kisses, the wind cold on wet lips now, - “You scare me sometimes.”

“Why did you lie about the service?” – you cupped his face, kisses growing more aggressive, - “You quit.”

“I didn’t” – he got his lip bitten for that, he hissed, - “It’s not that simple, got suspended, ‘be dragged back next time they need me anyway.”

You needed a wall or any surface, pin him down. Make him confess more.

“Where do you live?” – you looked at his lips, hungry for the truth. Him. Drag him in the present. Make it all fit.

“Hotel. I moved. Only came here to see you.”

“Liar.” – you tugged on his hair, - “You visit the shop for your bike here every couple months.”

“It’s a good shop.” – he smiled at your assertiveness, and you pulled his hair stronger this time, he groaned, pained expression, - “I came here to see you before.”

So, he was visiting your lecture that one time. Turns out you were on the same page after all.

You patted down his hair, soothing. Kissed him more. Satisfied with the answers, for now.

“Are you stalking me?” – he smiled.

“Yes.” – you were honest, - “I’m crazy.”

“I know that,” – he looked proud, - “I like that.” – he joked. Maybe he wasn’t joking.

His hotel room was empty, organized, nothing to study. You wanted to know everything he was up for when you weren’t together. What else was he hiding? The frustration apparent in your aggression, clawing at his clothes, slapping his hands away when they got in the way, like you wanted to punish him for taking too long. He fought you to get his way with kissing and holding you how he wanted giving you a lot of grace. Yielding only until he wasn’t. And you took advantage of the soft spot he had for your temper. Shameless. He liked you for taking whatever you wanted. You wanted him. His body and soul and his life. All to yourself. If that was a lie, he’d have to deal with consequences.

But it didn’t seem like he was lying. Not one bit. It was the most honest you witnessed him to be. Grabbing the clothes off you to claim any unkissed territory. Kept saying something incomprehensible into your lips, your skin, it was all a blur of ‘missed you’, and ‘need you’ and you knew. “I know” you breathed him in, “I know” - you understood, yearning painfully radiating. He was the only one to make you feel like this. To make you feel this. All of this.

You felt the urgency and trembling need to wrap the reality to make it faster, get there as soon as possible. Tugging and pulling, and moving, begging Leon not to wait any longer. Like you might not make it on time, like he won’t meet you there, until you found yourself at the edge. And it felt like you were about to jump into the abyss. Like with every thrust he brought you closer to a fatal explosion, like it will ruin you forever. But he was right there with you, he wouldn’t do that to you.

You tried to stall him and suddenly you felt every atom in your body tremor, shake and break away from your form, leaving you floating in the space, black, white, just blank… A spark of color appeared in the nothingness; magenta, purple, orange, red, cyan. It felt like all the brightest colors at once, somehow together, but not mixing. You saw them all at the same time, able to differentiate but they were all united. All existing everywhere and you were a part of it too.

Another one, a trail of sparks outlining your neck, his lips brought you back into your form, you managed to feel where the space ended and your body began, your body. You left the state of absolution and came into your body for him. Only for him.

He kissed your neck back into its shape, his hand lifting your back to pull you closer, reminding you of how your shoulder blades move. Your body was real again and it could move. He’d always pull you up for contact despite being on top of you. Like he didn’t want to give you up to the ground, like he wanted you to be his alone. You shift your legs along his hips, the sensation of his skin making them real again, and when he pulls out, the tug at your core concludes the ritual and you’re fully back on earth, transformed; remains of galaxies that couldn’t fit spilling out.

You breathe, looking in his eyes with your brand-new ones. Does he know you’re seeing for the first time?

It looks like he doesn’t. It looks like he doesn’t know, nor understands a thing. Like he just witnessed a miracle: a woman appeared under him out of star dust, and he doesn’t yet know how to process it, but he’s not surprised. He can’t be. Not when he willed her into existence. No, it’s not a surprise, he’s in awe. Like he put his all into this conjuring but wasn’t sure it was even possible to succeed.

He pressed his forehead to yours, like a silent prayer to keep you from disappearing into the light, like a solemn promise to be a silent witness of this miracle; a promise between him and you or him and God, the universe. It seemed like all three collided.

You couldn’t tell if you agreed with this, but if any Godly being was what created humans, you felt like it worked through Him to return the particles that made you who you are, inside of this physical form, lying on the bed next to Him. Perfectly assembled, whole again. You were just drawn to this power he was bestowed with, to be closer. To make it happen. Just two entities, doing what fate woven into its plan since the start.

It felt right. And in the morning, it felt right when his hand was lying on your stomach, you didn’t have to think about it twice, or at all. It was the hand that was meant to be there. He traced the scar on your side, you traced the knuckles on his hand.

“Riley must be awake by now” – he said that morning.

And you answered, - “Let’s go home.”

And that morning he said – “Yeah, let’s go.”

And that evening you asked him if he’s going to help you with your apartment. Make a home out of this mess. And he also said ‘yes’.

And you finally realized that yes. You did get what you wanted. Took some time to figure it out and some effort to get there, but you will always get what you wanted. Let them be mad.  

[11cupids-tarot11]

Late night conversations with your future spouse.

1 -> 2

How do guys feel about the name "Love Bugs"? I've been considering calling you guys that, I think it's cute 🥹 I want to do something cool with it in the future- stay tuned guys!

In honor of reaching 100 followers I want to do something special! I want to do a follower's request! So comment down below, message me privately if you want, whichever way you prefer! This will still be a general reading for everyone, but I'm excited to see what cool and unique topics you guys can come up with!

Take care!!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

I'm open for private readings! DM me!

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Love y'all!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1- Four of coins, The hierophant in reverse, The world, Eight of swords, The sun, Queen of wands, Five of cups.

You guys will talk about the future a lot! You guys will like talking about planning, how to save more or trips, dream vacations. Just your dream life together.

This is a moment when both of you can be in pure silence even and just enjoy each other's company, you both could have busy schedules so making time for each other might be a little rough, but at night time it's y'all little bonding moment basically.

I'm hearing something about not having to really use your brain as much lol. Maybe someone works in a field that requires them to think a lot or it's very mentally challenging or even draining so they get to finally be at rest as well, the conversations will always be light hearted and just lots of laughter and child-like energy here because neither of you really want to take this moment that serious. I'm also seeing you guys could opt for doing other activities instead of talking, like watching a movie and for some of you your person took it to a 18+ level lol.

You guys will really like to talk about how much you want to explore together, where you want to go, I think this person wants to give you the world so you'll be thinking this is just random playful talk but he'll bring it up again when the moment is right to make these dreams and talks come to life!

If you guys have had a bad or gloomy day they'll wanna talk about it so they don't feel so stuck in bad energy, they really don't want to carry it on till the next day so they'd rather talk and get all of the negative things out of the way so you both can sleep peacefully.

You both love talking to each other a lot, about everything and there's no judgement here, you guys could even fall asleep mid way sometimes because I'm seeing you one of you will be so tired (I think it's definitely from a tiring job or schedule, weekday nights will be a lot different than weekend's, weekend will definitely be longer, you guys will talk more or do more activities together because that's y'all's little bonding time! Cute 🥹.

Your person will love hearing about your day! They'll want you to tell them about everything you did. They're definitely the type to ask how your day was, they genuinely care too, they're not asking just to make conversation they'll really want you to go into details! They'll want to emotionally support you through thick and thin.

Random, but someone has a six pack? They might be shirtless a lot too lmao.

You guys will definitely use this as a moment as well to talk about anything within the relationship that you want to work on, I don't think your person appreciates toxicity so they try to eliminate as much as possible, if there is a problem or they've noticed you've been grumpy all day they'll want to discuss in details before bed, this person really hates going to sleep with low vibrations not only for themselves but for the both of you, they think you both deserve a happy good night's sleep! Adorable! 🩵

I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom and I'll see you later! 💖

Pile 2- Four of wands, Ten of cups reversed, Knight of cups, The tower reversed, Three of coins and The wheel of fortune.

So this person is kinda dramatic lol. I think by the end of the day they're really tired and some days aren't able to stay up like they wish. They say they feel like a zombie some days :(

They'll still be very expressive with you, they'll explain this. They don't want you to think they're making up excuses or don't want to spend time with you or anything. I'm seeing this might be part of the late night conversation, they'll tell you exactly how they're feeling and why. This is only for certain days, it will not always be like this energy.

I think your person's kinda flirty though? Like they're keep you laughing for sure, they have a lot of passion and just like to be near you at night! You guys could end up just cuddling and sitting in silence without even realizing you're both falling asleep. It's very comfortable energy, you'll feel so good cuddling up with this person you guys might just forget about the conversation at hand and drift off, freaking adorable!

This person loves how calm everything feels with you at night, everything's peaceful and they can just relax and let loose, sleep to their hearts content. I think this pile just might really like sleeping? There could've been a thing one of you had trouble sleeping before getting together, it could just be your person's energy but take it how it resonates!! But now whoever had trouble sleeping before can sleep so peacefully so it's their favorite thing to do, you guys can't wait to get in bed to get all nice and warm and get a good night's sleep.

Maybe they'll ask you questions about what you did all day, they'll check up on you, use this as a time to get insight on you I'm hearing.

They'll want to tell you about the wacky things that happened to them out of the blue, if something funny, crazy or even slightly out of normal happens they just have to tell you! They'll gossip a lot, tell you everything! Like best friends at a sleepover.

I hope you enjoyed!! Don't forget to do the poll below, see you soon! 💕

[cupidsworstcrime]

Part 2 to this

Johnny's little sis!reader x Simon that supports her wrongs

Your brother finds out about the two of you after a week. Of course he does, he visits you all the time. So when he sees Ghost on the couch, man spreading like he owns the damn thing. You think he'd be mad.

But he's.... encouraging...

He's more confused. How did you two even know each other? He saw you last week and you never mentioned a new guy? Ghost moved in with a partner? You? His best mate's little sister?

You cant exactly tell your brother that you were a serial killer and Ghost was your trusty assistant. And future husband (That ring looks stunning on your hand, Dovie...)

So you lie. 'Met Simon at a pub, Kings Head, the one on fourth?' Details seemed to make it more believable to him.

Ghost fucking with the vibrator app on his phone. Getting a sick thrill at you having to hold it all in like a big girl while your brother comes to terms with y'all being together. "You picked a good one sis, loyal like a mutt, that one."

Watching your thighs clench together as he turns it all the way up. The way you borderline glare at him when he turns it off.

You're his little slut right? Do anything he asked? You'd hump his boot right now if he asked. Not cause you loved him- Though you did- but because he knew where the bodies were. Literally.

So you'd be good, do everything he asked no matter who saw. Cause you wouldn't survive prison, princess.

He spares you from having to grind your needy cunt on his knee in front of Johnny for now. Who knows if he will ever actually make you, Simon has a lot of fucked up fantasies up in his head.

Which is why, on more than one occasion, he'd stalk into the den while you were busy killing some random bloke, he'd whisk you away.

Licking the blood off your hands and face as he fucked you on the hall floor cause you got too desperate to make it to the bed.

Your bloody hand prints painting his chest as you bounce on his cock.

Little Bonus <3

"Youre an ass for pulling that shit with Johnny."

"Don' talk about yer brother when my cock 's in you"

You grab his chin with a bloody hand, "As if that didn't make your dick twitch." You tilt his head back, "Lucky for you MacTavish's don't mind sharin'."

[rimunagenius]

Off Day

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 2.6k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! angst, creepy!stalker-ish!classmate, harassment, some fluff at the end

ʚ ri speaks: okay so i literally just dropped part one and the masterlist and right after i literally wrote this part! i literally pulled this series out of my ass last night…pardon my french. so i finished the masterlist and first part last night and so far, the feedback im getting is really good so…yay!☺️ anyways, this part is a little dark? but trustttt it will be resolved soon.

Part 2

| Series Masterlist |

You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed, get back under the cool covers, and just lie there until the world ended. Or until Kate got home. Either way, you wanted to be anywhere but class.

Something about today was so off. You woke up and did your routine like any normal day. Kate left earlier than you but came back right before you left. You left her breakfast or lunch, whatever she decided to classify it as on the counter, and said you'd see her later at practice. That was 3 hours ago.

But today you had an exam in your anatomy class. This class was easy but you just did not want to be there because of Nick. Ever since a couple of days ago when you told Kate what went down between him and Gabbie, he's been relentless in getting the details of "your and Kate's relationship." You didn't want to tell him it wasn't Kate because you'd rather have to pretend to date her than anyone in California. Especially the girls you knew.

Something about Nick was off so you weren't going to pick a random girl in your following on Instagram. Knowing him, he'd probably stalk the poor woman. You just wanted to skip this class altogether. You hoped this line in the coffee shop on campus would move faster to possibly find a seat where other people could fill in around you before he could.

"Hey!" You turned your head, pulled one airpod out of your ear, and smiled at the brunette next to you. Her name was Juliana and you had class with her in like ten minutes.

"Oh, my god, hi!" You put the AirPod back in its case, abandoning the tranquility for the rest of whatever conversation was going to ensue.

"Not to be nosy or get in your business, and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, but that guy over there keeps staring at you." She pointed her finger, subtly, in the direction behind her. You got to be fucken kidding…Nick. "He's been saying things to people in anatomy, saying you guys are talking, and how he doesn't like how you're too close to Kate. Or something like that, it's all unclear. But I found it weird and thought you should know." Her face looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes went soft as she looked at your expression change from friendly to somewhat terrified.

"Oh, my god. Thanks for telling me. I don't even know him. He's asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. Who is he telling? Do a lot of people know?" You asked her. Your hands started to get clammy, as you started to move to the pick-up counter, your name being called; your drink ready.

"I honestly have no idea, but if anyone asks just tell them you're in a relationship." Juliana suggested, unsure of how to handle the whole situation.

"Yeah, I thought he'd leave me alone when my friend Gabbie had said I was seeing someone already. He automatically assumed it was my best friend Kate." You really thought this was behind you. This was probably the bad feeling you've been feeling all day.

"Oh, so you're not dating Kate?" Juliana asked, her face lightening up.

"No, but she said she was okay with going along with it to keep him away from me. Why? You like her?" You had no idea she swung that way. She usually talked about boy drama whenever you guys did group work in your class.

"Uh, no. But if she decides to start seeing someone and needs to drop the whole "fake girlfriend" thing, you can definitely ask me. I'm happy to help." She smiled warmly at you. You were very grateful for her willingness to help.

"Oh, okay. Thank you so much!" Her friend then called her over, and you both said goodbye. You had already made it to your class. Juliana keeping you company the whole way. You walked in and took a seat, pulling out your phone. You figured you could text Kate and let her know that if Juliana was willing to help, you'd relieve her of her duties. You also wanted to catch her up on what the hell went down in the coffee shop.

"you will not believe what just happened..."

almost instantly, her response bubble popped up.

"omg, what?"

"a friend in my anatomy class came up to me in better buzz and told me some guy was staring at me"

"what guy? are you okay?"

"and the guy was Nick!"

"oh..."

"apparently he's telling people me and him are talking but doesn't like how me and you are so close"

"wtf. are you serious?"

"did you tell her that me and u were together?"

"ab that...she said she would be down to be my "girlfriend" if I needed it. so I was thinking I would just tell ppl that me n her are together, so that way you're not dragged into this mess lol"

"Oh."

"okay for sure."

"I gtg. I'll see you later at practice!"

"alright, see you later. love you!"

" 'bear <3 loved "alright, see you later. love you!" "

Usually, she said it back. You, Kate, and all the girls got in the habit of saying 'love you' to one another because it was true. You all loved each other so dearly. None of you had shame in how you felt about one another and how close you held each other to your hearts. But you just decided to brush it off, she was probably just super busy. 

You honestly had no idea why your mind told you to read into everything she's been saying and texting you, lately. I was seriously getting unhealthy with how much you worried about what she thought about you. You were lost in thought before someone took a seat next to you. Assuming it was Juliana because she was just outside with her friends, you turned to tell her that if she was down to be your "girlfriend." You were pretty startled to see it wasn't her but Nick instead. 

"So, how have you been?" He asked. Something about him seemingly so off. You didn't like the feeling you got around him at all. You noticed his gaze following you out of the shop with Juliana ten minutes ago. You looked around the room, the spots in the class filling up quickly. You saw Juliana walk in, but before you could get her attention, Nick moved into your line of sight and prevented anyone from coming between you two. 

"Uh, good?" You looked down at your phone trying to find anything to keep you looking as uninterested as possible. 

"That's it? Nothing else to say to me?" He seemed to be growing more irritable with the short responses. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, I didn't want to talk to you anyway." You looked at him, wishing he'd go away. You didn't want to say it out loud and catch the attention of everyone around you. 

"Oh, now that's not nice. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend." He said, a weird smile encroaching on his lips. You did not like this at all. You were genuinely starting to get scared. You pulled up Juliana's number, thankful you asked for it last week so you could send her the notes she missed. 

"911. he's starting to really freak me out." 

You sent the message and immediately Nick asked who you had been texting. "Can you please, for the love of god, leave me alone? I'm seeing someone." The smirk on his face dropped, a cold stare being directed right at you. 

"No, you're not. You're seeing me." 

"No, she's not you creep. She's my girlfriend." Juliana then sat on the opposite side of you, staring Nick down. Nick's face flushed, his eyes looking at a few people who had turned around to see what was going on. She placed a hand on your leg.

It wasn't long after your exam and when the class was dismissed that Nick approached you again. He tried to talk to you, you just want to get straight to the Carver stadium. No students that weren't on the team or staff weren't allowed in. You just needed to get there as quickly as possible. 

"Hey! Stop ignoring me." Nick semi-shouted at you. You had put both airpods in, trying to tune him out. It wasn't until he tried to grab your arm and pull you back from walking away from him that you turned around ready to blow up before your saving grace came up to both of you. 

"Hey, man! Watch the fuck out. I don't know who you think you are but you are not gonna put your hands on my friend like that. Not like that, not now, and not ever." Hannah, with the hand she had placed on his arm to throw it off you, pushed him back a little before putting her arm around your shoulder and walking away from him. "That was fucking weird. You know that guy?" She looked back to see if he was still there, and indeed he was. Watching you both walk in the direction towards the arena. 

"No, actually. He's a fucking creep who asked me out a couple of times and took it horribly. He's been harassing me for a little. He was staring at me while I was getting coffee before my class like two hours ago." You said, calming down significantly since Hannah showed up. But your stomach was still uneasy and you really did not want to go to that class tomorrow or ever until he was gone and far away from Iowa City. 

"Yeah, don't walk around campus alone anymore. I'll come to find you after every—what class is this?" 

"Anatomy." 

"Okay, after every one of your anatomy classes, I'll come to find you and we can go to practice together. Do you have friends that know what classes you have and can walk you?" Now that you think about it, Juliana was in a lot of your classes. She wanted to do nursing so most classes you had in the week, were with her. 

"Yeah, funny story. The girl that's pretending to be my girlfriend to keep that guy away, which he obviously doesn't give a damn about, is in a lot of my classes. And it works out because the ones she's not in, Kate takes me because they're on her way." You smiled at the tall girl, grateful. 

"Okay, good. I don't want you getting stalked and possibly worse because of that guy. You should report him before it gets too bad." Hannah suggested, and rightfully so. 

"Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Hannah."

The girls' practice was going well. Until it wasn't. 

"Hey, you got a minute?" You were organizing gauze and wraps in the med bag behind the bench before you looked up and saw Kate holding her nose. 

"Yes, of course, Kate. Another one?" You looked at the girl as she walked around the bench and you handed her a towel. She broke her nose every year, you and Caitlin swore on it. You grabbed some gauze squares and put them in each nostril, to absorb as much blood as possible before you completely ruined the towel. 

"Don't tilt your head back. It could cause clots." You knew she already knew that with how prone Kate was to bloody noses. But it never hurts to refresh her mind, as it is instinct to stop the bleeding. 

"Yeah, thanks." You and Kate stood there while the bleeding stopped. "Alright, I think I'm good." She said a small smile on her face. You saw some blood on her shirt, grabbing the small bottle of peroxide in the bag, and a small gauze pad, you tried to soak as much of it out so it was easier for her when she did laundry. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. A new notification every second. 

"Jeez, who is blowing up your phone?" Kate asked, as she looked at your screen lighting up and watching the notifications pop up one by one.

"I don't know. Can you check?" You asked as you tried to get the last spot of blood off her clothes. 

"It's Instagram. Someone named Nick? Is it that same Nick guy Hannah said harassed the fuck out of you today?" She set your phone down. Your stomach immediately churning. You were honestly getting the creeps. 

"Oh my god. She told you?" You asked as you looked into Kate's eyes. Both of yours mirroring each other. The same worried look. 

"Yeah, and I'm glad she did. You need to say something. Or I can if you're not comfortable." Kate suggested. Now six more new notifications popped up, all from Nick. "I'll block him for you." She said, picking up your phone but stopping to look at you. Her eyes silently asking if that was okay with you.

"Yeah, please." You sighed as you threw the gauze squares away, putting the peroxide back before watching Kate block Nick. On your main and spam account. You have no idea how he found you; your name isn’t in the usernames. You really should go private and change your message settings. "Alright lemme check your nose though, to make sure it's not broken." There was absolutely no need to do this. You knew it was probably just a simple elbow or ball to the face. You both would've known if it was broken. 

"Alright." She sat on the bench, signature manspread. Good lord. You stood between her legs, putting pressure on different parts of her nose, checking for any indication of pain. It was a little tender but that was obvious, and so was you making an excuse to keep Kate a little longer. I mean, could she blame you? You haven't seen her much in the last couple of days. Late practices you missed for studying for your exam, her leaving earlier than you and by the time you get home she's either asleep or visiting her nephew. You missed your best friend.

You could see her looking at you as you checked. Your eyes meet once or twice, small giggles escaping your lips every time. Her eyes dropping to your lips occasionally, watching your tongue poke out a little as you focused on the task at hand. That made her giggle too. "Okay, bear. You're good." You kissed the top of her head and patted her shoulder before she stood up and ran back to the court. 

"If I roll my ankle, do I get a cute nickname and a kiss too?" Caitlin shouted as she pretended to throw herself on the ground. You laughed at her antics loudly before nodding your head and yelling yes. You laughed harder as she pretended to limp towards you. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna need like ten kisses to make this unbearable pain go away."  She fakes winced as she took a seat in the spot Kate was previously in, resting her "injured" foot on the chairs next to her. 

"Oh for sure, Cait." You laughed.

Suddenly, Sydney, Kylie, Jada, and Gabbie, hobbled over pretending to be injured to get their kisses too. "You need one too, Coach Bluder?" You shouted after you made your way through half the lineup. You made the assistant coaches laugh, including Coach herself. The practice was better after that, but you just couldn't shake the events from today off. 

Maybe another movie night with Kate would fix this. A lot of ice cream must be eaten tonight. Just one night, peaceful, and Nick free.

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

MIDNIGHT CINDERELLA MEMORIAL POST

The Midnight Cinderella app will be closed on Monday August 26th, 2024 (5 PM JST). The English version was actively updated from 2014 to 2021 when Cybird announced the ceasing of operations for MidCin, but the app remained accessible until today. I'm sure I'm not the only one who mourns the loss of it even after all these years of discontinuation, so I wanted to put together a post to properly say goodbye to it. Trying my best not to make it all too sappy - I'd rather look at it as a show that reached its final episode. Some things might be left unresolved but in the end, you remember the cast and the emotions they made you feel more than the actual plot. Nowadays there arguably may be better titles by Cybird out there, but for me, the simplicity of MidCin was what made the details so memorable.

1. VIDEO - POV: You're playing Midnight Cinderella (for 10 minutes)

The 10-minute version (without sound) is accessible via the link above (opens in Google Docs) This one I was really excited about recording! It's just your normal day playing midcin, I'm sure many will find it nostalgic and comforting. You log in, claim your daily bonus (I used the chance to do a present box reveal, 90+ items, many of which you might recognize from route grace checks), play the garden gacha (in my case, I used up all the points I had accumulated, 7800 which equals 39 solos), do your princess lessons, change your avatar, greet your friends, read 1/5 of today's free story parts, check the ranking and your stats, look at your memories directory. The video has no sound, as the game wouldn't let me turn it on (you will see me try to do so throughout the video...) but later on I got it to work so I recorded a one-minute video (the one imported above) of me replenishing stamina just for those iconic sound effects that you either loved or absolutely couldn't stand the volume of, haha.

2. A Midnight Cinderella playlist (spotify link)

While I wasn't there for the early days of midcin, the songs I associated with the game almost always captured this very specifically nostalgic 90s-10s period, you'll see what I mean. Many of those are taken from 8track playlists dedicated to Midnight Cinderella, and if I'm not mistaken you can still look at what is left of them if you search them up. Others are just my very random interpretations of the route stories and the characters.

3. Fic recommendations

We have a lovely community of creatives and there are still so many works left behind which you can check out on the tags! But especially for fics I wanted to list some that truly touched me during the years (all links open in ao3) -

i'm on fire and its NSFW bonus scene bloodstream by a deleted user - words are not enough for this one. It's like it meant more than Nico's whole route for me at one point, and the songs are forever in my heart as Nico songs...

MidCin Works by DBMidCin (SoftSen) - ALL of these. This is my go-to collection of writings for midcin when I start to miss the game, it has a little bit of everything. The headcanon of Giles teaching his girls French for instance is one of the things I still remember reading like it was yesterday!

Bedroom Etiquette (NSFW) by RubyLeeRay - Because this is the dream. Doing something forbidden with your tutor Giles is the ultimate fantasy, I swear. I just love it.

And of course, many, many more. There are currently 166 works on the midcin tag in Ao3, and I'm sure there are a lot of hidden gems here on tumblr as well! Reminder that writers LOVE it when you interact with their old works, it's not weird, you shouldn't hesitate doing so if you find yourself enjoying any of them! <3

4. My own humble collection of MidCin writings on my writing blog @xxsycamore!

Maid, Butler, Chamberlain (NSFW) - Nico x MC with Giles joining them

Grabbles: 💋 Demand for a kiss, right here, right now (GILES); 👔 Stealing their clothes to cuddle when you miss them (BYRON); more coming soon as there are still some in my askbox and I plan on including midcin in future short writings request openings too.

Shared Moments (NSFW) - Nico x Reader - Secret relationship

Ice-cold heat (NSFW) - Byron x Reader - Temperature play

Double the Surprise - Alyn and Leo birthday fic

Leo Crawford having a misadventure with a cat (ao3 link) - crack fic featuring most of the suitors

5. Out of context Midnight Cinderella screenshots

This is a sideblog of mine dedicated to posting out-of-context funny screenshots that I took while playing the routes - @oocmidcin . If you have some of your own that are not on there, you're free to submit them and add to the archive!

6. The perfect MidCin song - The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

When I first discovered this song back in 2020 I dreamed of making it into a midcin music video with simplistic art and animations... It ended up being just something you daydream in detail about while in the car, but that's alright. I could at least share my vision with you! Disclaimer, this is just an interpretation and obviously it can't fit all characters ideally - In the brackets, I explain how the lyric is related to them and usually it reveals their backstories. Some of the details I've already forgotten, sorry if it's inaccurate.)

Tell me once again

I could have been anyone, anyone else

Before you made the choice for me

(Giles - his family making the choice for him since birth and later disowning him once he failed to become a knight due to his illness)

My feet knew the path

We walked in the dark, in the dark

I never gave a single thought to where it might lead

(Nico - wandering the streets with his mother once they were thrown out of Stein castle because she was a commoner having an affair with Byron's father, the King)

All those empty rooms

We could have been anywhere, anywhere else

Instead I made a bed with apathy

(Robert - the empty rooms of the once flourishing palace of the country that Robert ruled and led to demise, nowadays becoming a mere court painter)

My heart knew the weight

Ten years' worth of dust and neglect

We made our peace with weariness and let it be

(Leo - the years in which Alyn didn't speak to him, after the death of their parents)

The moon will sing a song for me

I loved you like the sun

Bore the shadows that you made

With no light of my own

(Albert - loyally standing in king Byron's shadow)

Name your courage now

We could have had anything, anything else

Instead you hoarded all that's left of me

(Sid - his relationship with his fiance that he agreed upon just to find out more about his parents by getting close to her father)

Swallowing your doubt

Like swords to the pit of my belly

I want to feel the fire that you kept from me

(Alyn - searching for answers about the murder of his family and the fire that burnt down their home)

I shine only with the light you gave me

(I could have been anyone, anyone)

(Louis - being a nobody and MC being his sun)

7. It goes on

I went to read what I could of chapter 4 of Rayvis' route, using my last two chapter tickets as well, thinking it won't make me cry. And then I'm hit with those familiar things.

So let's close this with a word about the things that never change in the universe of Midnight Cinderella.

Stumbling down the grand staircase and right into the arms of somebody. Escaping the palace at midnight with Nico's help. Sitting at breakfast with Giles giving you your schedule for the day. Nico's teasing little smile as he accompanies you everywhere and listens to your relationship troubles. The way he's just a little suspicious at times. Finding Robert painting in the garden of Wysteria palace. Going to the room of your chosen suitor for the first time and meeting a pet there. Leo teaching you history and politics in his office. Dance lessons with Louis. Needing those dance lessons because King Byron is coming to Wysteria and a ball is going to take place. The bureaucrats being unhappy with you as a princess elect, no matter what. Galloping on a horse with Alyn who just protected you from an enemy attack. Getting information from a certain flirty merchant at a bar. Albert bickering with Nico, Sid teasing Louis. Being introduced to Archduke Herneit at Stein castle. King Byron appreciating the night sky. The sight of your yellow and orange princess elect room where on the large bed with its blue bedframe and tall see-through canopy you lie awake and think about the events of the day and how would a wise future Queen of Wysteria deal with the current situation. But ultimately you fall asleep, hearing the melancholically beautiful sounds of a violin coming from somewhere deep within your dream, and leave it all to the following day.

Thank you for everything, Midnight Cinderella!

08/26/2024