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ahundredtimesover · 5 months

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I Want You to Stay (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I deeply appreciate all the love and messages (and anticipation for uh, stuff) but again, it's a slow burn! Thank you so much! 🥰

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the couch in his office, his iPad in hand as he goes through the Board report for the nth time these past five days.

Manager Lee and Chin-sun have put together the logistics, construction, and design departments’ reports with the VP’s and Jungkook is supposed to sign these off for submission to the CEO today, who then approves it for submission to the Board members. They have until Friday to review it in time for the meeting happening that same day.

This consolidated report was finalized last Wednesday and Jungkook has been reviewing it everyday since then, including his presentation, making minimal comments and then taking notes on things he’s unfamiliar with. Granted, he’s reporting about the quarter when he’s only been Vice President for a month, which makes you incredibly instrumental in his preparations. As the executive assistant, you have the information that Jungkook needs from Hoseok’s time, and so you’ve also been spending everyday since Wednesday answering all of Jungkook’s questions.

You don’t mind, really, as they’re details you know by heart. It also allows you to show him how involved and meticulous you were under Hoseok’s leadership, and Jungkook’s hums and mumbles of appreciation have helped you gain back the confidence that you lost.

Even if your self-esteem decreased this past month because of the very person sitting in front of you, the fact that Jungkook’s been showing - in his own ways - his trust in you is enough to lift your spirits. He did admit last week that he needs you - something you hadn’t expected him to say - and you could tell it took so much from him to be able to verbalize it. But you suppose you needed that honesty, too; you needed to know that after all that frustration and anger during the first few weeks, there was that realization on his end that you have his back, and you’re just as capable as what everyone has been saying you are.

“What information do you need from me, Mr. Jeon?” You finally ask.

It’s been a good five minutes since Jungkook had asked for you and you’ve just been standing in front of him while he scrolls through the screen, perhaps giving another final look before he finally sends the document to his father.

“Nothing,” he sighs, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. “I just… I just need someone to tell me to stop reviewing this report. I need this out of my sight but I can’t stop checking to make sure everything is okay.”

You look at him intently while he speaks. The tension in his entire face and body is visible, you can even feel it in the room. You feel for him, as he tries to hide the anxiety and desperation. You can tell that he just wants to do well so badly. With the amount of time he’s been spending just going through this, his perfectionist tendency surfaces, and you’re at least thankful that it hasn’t turned him back into an asshole. At least not yet.

“You need to stop reviewing the report, Mr. Jeon, and let it go,” you say as instructed but with sincerity in your words. “You’ve been on this for days. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have reviewed it, and so have I. CEO Jeon could still suggest changes and we won’t know them until he’s reviewed it, but we at least have the details ironed out. If I may suggest, you can send the file to him in the next hour so you can now focus on practicing for your presentation. That may be a better use of your time.”

Jungkook opens his eyes and turns to you. There’s assurance in your words and your voice and like what he told himself he’d do, he’ll trust you and the team. He’s seen how hard everyone has been working for this - Manager Lee and Chin-sun have done so well in consolidating and cross-checking everything; Do-hyun’s presentation is simple yet effective, and Yohan, who’s back from the hospital, has been adding in all the needed details. And there’s you, making sure that everything and everyone is on track, even as you prepare for Jungkook’s upcoming events.

“Okay, then,” he exhales deeply. “I’ll send it in the next half hour.”

Knowing he has a meeting set at 2PM, you ask him if you should order him lunch.

“Yes please,” he answers, saying he wants some braised beef from the restaurant on the next block. “Order for yourself as well, and the rest of the team. You can all get anything you want.”

The silence prompts Jungkook to look at you, and he’s met with a questioning gaze.

“Is there a problem?” He asks.

“N—no,” you answer. “I’d like to confirm again that I’ll be ordering lunch for you and all five of us.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho. That’s what I said.”

You remain unmoving as you wait for him to correct himself. This is the first time that Jungkook has offered to treat the team to a meal. Not that you’ve been waiting for it, but Hoseok took you all out to dinner on his first day as a welcome and a thanks in advance, and once you picked up that Jungkook wasn’t the type to engage with his staff much, you just didn’t expect anything. So takeaway lunch from a nice restaurant is definitely surprising.

“Okay, sir,” you say. “I will do that. I’m sure the team will appreciate it.”

Jungkook merely hums, his eyes focused on the screen now as you bow and head out.

You go meet the team and as you expected, everyone looks at you in shock.

“Did the real Mr. Jeon get abducted?” Do-hyun asks. “Because treating us is something he wouldn’t do.”

“Yah! It may be a month late but let’s just be thankful, okay?” You frown at her. “He can see that everyone’s been working hard and I’m sure he appreciates that, and he may not be able to say it but he can at least show us.”

“While he’s at it, he can maybe at least say thank you or you know, smile every once in a while,” Chin-sun sighs.

“We’ll get there. He knows he needs to do better and he will, I’ll make sure of that,” you assure them, thinking about the conversation from last week.

Jungkook wants you to help him and for his sake and everyone else’s, you’ll make sure that you do.

“Well, is he better to you?” Do-hyun asks, her face in a pout because she’s seen you skip meals several times and even cry, and she’d wanted so many times to just hug you, but she knows it’s not something you openly receive.

“Yes,” you say, knowing it will drive your point. “I’d like to think that the worst is over and I can just focus on doing better and helping him. It would be great if the rest of us could do the same.”

“She’s right,” Manager Lee chimes in. “We grow when we adapt, and much more when we’re able to move on and learn from our experiences. It hasn’t been the best month but it’s also just been a month. So let’s be grateful for the meal and just continue with the good work we’ve been doing, okay?”

You give them the warmest smile you can muster, hoping this would be enough.

It seems to be, as they all excitedly give their orders, which you and Yohan pick up from the restaurant. You return and after giving Jungkook his food, you head to the other room to eat as well.

The team enjoys the meal, with Do-hyun dramatically stating that it’s the best beef brisket she’s ever had. And you agree; there’s a reason why Jungkook gets this every week.

Jungkook can hear laughter and satisfied hums from the support team office, with Do-hyun, he supposes, claiming that it feels like Christmas. Yohan says it’s a much-needed post-recovery treat, and even Manager Lee - who’s often serious - cracks a few jokes. Jungkook can pick out your sound, too, noting the joy that emanates from it. He allows himself a small smile, knowing that given how he’s been to everyone this past month, he at least could give his team this highlight of their day.

He stands by the door, initially going unnoticed, until Chin-sun catches sight of him and alerts everyone that he’s there. The room goes silent, and Jungkook looks on as his staff quietly munch their food and bow to him in greeting. The teasing and laughter have gone; worried eyes are what he sees instead.

Your initial surprise at seeing him melts away. He rarely drops by for anything, even for a greeting or to just check up on the team, unlike Hoseok who liked to come here often to de-stress after long meetings. But you sense Jungkook’s awkwardness at the silence, with his hands in his pockets and his blank gaze, so you smile at him and hope that eases the tension a bit.

“Lunch was great, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “Thank you.”

“It was,” Manager Lee pipes in. “The roast pork was so delicious. The potato salad was very good, too.”

You look at the others and encourage them to say something as well, and they hum in agreement and say their thanks.

“The beef brisket was heavenly,” Do-hyun raves. “Thank you! I hope it’s not the last time.”

She awkwardly chuckles, realizing that her boss isn’t one she should be joking with, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to take offense, as he purses his lips - perhaps to hide a smile, revealing a tiny dimple that catches you off guard.

“It won’t be. And uh, it was a month late, so I’m glad you all enjoyed it,” he replies, a tinge of disappointment now painting his face.

There’s another moment of silence and you observe him, hands still in his pockets, looking around awkwardly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s greatly appreciated, sir,” you assure him once more. “We hope you had a good lunch as well.”

“I’m just about to have it, actually,” he says. “I sent the report to the CEO and he must’ve been waiting for it because he read it right away and called to give feedback.”

“Oh? How did CEO Jeon find it?” Manager Lee asks.

“He said it was good. There are just minor things he asked me to change but I can do them on my own,” Jungkook answers. “I appreciate everyone’s hard work. Now, we can focus on our upcoming events and the Arts Center.”

The team immediately starts packing and swallowing their food, and Jungkook has to stop them.

“Not right now,” he clarifies. “Continue with your meal. And don’t stay too late. We’ve got another busy week ahead.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” everyone says in unison.

Jungkook nods and starts walking away, leaving all five of you with confused looks, as Jungkook has never spoken to the team in such a calm and friendly manner. It was always firm and professional, low and stoic.

You scurry out the room and follow him. Jungkook gives you a questioning look when you enter his office shortly after he does, and you pick up his untouched lunch from the table and inform him that you’ll heat it up, knowing he doesn’t like to eat his food cold.

You go back to the pantry then return to Jungkook’s room, his beef brisket dish now properly placed in a bowl. He gives you a nod, his form of acknowledgment and thanks, you suppose, and you ask the question you’ve had since his earlier stop at the team’s office.

“Are the edits really just minor?” You wonder, knowing that CEO Jeon is meticulous and quite particular with these board reports.

Jungkook takes a moment to respond. He should know that you’ve done this a few times and are probably used to how his father is already, which means you’d see right through him as well.

“Well, they’re not major,” Jungkook says. “I mean, they’re not trivial corrections. The details are all good but I need to change some terminologies and framing and some construction of the sections based on the Board’s current concerns, especially about the Arts Center. They’re not that substantial but it’ll still take me an hour or so.”

“Why did you tell the team that they were minor, then?”

“So they won’t offer to help.”

“But they would. I would,” you tell him. “It’s our job.”

“I was going to ask, but it’s your break time. Everyone was enjoying their meals and each other. First time I’ve seen that, actually. I know it doesn’t happen when I’m around.”

“It’s just that you’re not—”

“Hoseok,” he finishes for you.

“Not someone they’re comfortable being themselves around,” you correct him.

“Yes, not like Hoseok,” he pushes.

“You said it the first day, Mr. Jeon. You do things very differently from your cousin. Your personalities are very different, too. We had him for three years and for Yohan and Do-hyun, he was their first boss,” you explain. “They’re just not used to you yet.”

“What about you? Are you used to me by now?”

There’s sudden tension in the room as he looks at you with the desire for honesty, and it’s what you give.

“I’m not quite sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t really know what he expected, as the question just slipped past his mouth before he could pull it back, so he just nods and proceeds to take his late lunch, wanting to forget that he’d asked at all.

You take this as a signal to head out, which you do, before reminding him that he can ask you for help if he needs another pair of eyes before he submits his part again. Jungkook just nods once more, and it’s later in the day, after the third cup of coffee that you take to his room, that he says his father’s already approved the version he sent after you went through it upon his request. You know that’s just half of what he needs to do though, as he’ll still need to present it to the Board this coming Friday.

“You may go home, Ms. Cho,” he says after he signs some documents for you.

“How about you, Mr. Jeon?” You ask.

It’s been a long day, an extension of an even longer weekend because he’d been at a work event and then reviewed the report as well.

“I’ll probably stay back and go over the presentation. Maybe practice a little.”

You purse your lips, holding something back.

“Should I not?” He wonders.

“Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a proper rest tonight,” you advise.

“I’ll think about it. It’s gonna be a tough one on Friday and I want to be prepared.”

“I understand,” you smile. “I’ll go ahead, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook holds your gaze for a while before he nods and returns to his screen, going through the presentation slides and the notes he scribbled on his iPad. But try as he might, the graphs and the words just go over his head.

He does need to rest, he thinks. He hasn’t really taken a break all weekend. His hookup from last night was the only relief he got, but that was to expend all the negative energy from the anxiety and stress, and he realizes that he probably doesn’t know what proper rest is, like what you suggested he have. He wonders if you’ve ever had one, or if it’s something you stopped having ever since you started working for him.

Taking your advice, he heads out. It’s only been 30 minutes and he assumes you’re already on the bus and on the way home. He sits in the passenger seat, letting Mr. Ri’s choice of music fill the car as Jungkook’s mind wanders to you - how you laughed at the team’s antics, how you got them to assure him, how you read him well, how you were patient and helpful, and how you seemed concerned about how tired he’s been.

He’ll chalk it up to you doing your job and helping him as he asked you to do; he always will. He can’t ever think that any of your actions mean more even if deep down, he wishes they do, only so he knows that you don’t hate him, that you’ve forgiven him for things he never apologized for, that you’ll stay for as long as possible. There’s something about your honesty and calm presence that stabilizes him, that makes him take a pause.

Jungkook’s worked hard on his career for the past decade and it’s all he focuses on; it’s all he thinks about. But when you’re there, he’s forced to stop and think about you. He’s noticed that just this past week - when you’re around, he listens; when you’re close to him, he breathes. Ironic, really, considering that every time you close the distance - when you fix his tie or look at his screen over his shoulder or help him retrieve portfolios - he remains still, his heart stopping and his throat drying up, afraid to take in your scent or to know just how fast his pulse would race or what words he’d say that he won’t be able to contain.

He’s afraid to know you, only because what he’ll learn might make him want you. And Jungkook knows that he can’t let himself feel that about you in any way.

He sighs as he looks out the window - cars in line to cross the intersection, people walking to their destination. He thinks he’s hallucinating as he sees your smile, but a bus blocks his view and Mr. Ri steps on the gas.

Outside, you smile to yourself as you wait in line. You were held up at the lobby because Bitna caught you in the elevator and didn’t want to let you go just yet, so you left the office just minutes ago and were waiting at the bus stop when a familiar car showed up and you saw Jungkook looking out the window. He opted to leave early, too; you can only hope he’ll take your advice and rest tonight.

But the thought that what you said prompted him to take a pause from work stirs something within. Maybe it’s because he’s finally listening to you, or that it seems like he trusts you now. Whatever it is, for as long as it makes your job bearable, you’re all for it.

It doesn’t take away from the moments you’ve shared where it seems like the world stops for a bit as you hold each other’s gazes for the shortest of seconds. There’s tension where there shouldn’t be, and there’s something different in his eyes when there used to be disdain, one which you can’t read nor identify. It leaves you still for the briefest of moments, unguarded and a little bare, as he seems to tell you something with just a look and you just don’t know what it is.

As you find a rare seat in the bus, you let the musings go. Jungkook is a man who holds in him a million thoughts a day and those moments with you seem to be his only reprieve; perhaps they’re also just instances of temporary lags or the rare silence and stoppage of everything. In some odd way, it allows you to see him as the human that he is - exhausted, unsure at times, but seemingly yearning for something.

There’s always an emotion or a thought or a word that he holds in, and you can only wish - as your relationship with him improves - that whatever it is he’s holding back, he’ll find a way to express it.

“Do you have any advice for the Board meeting?”

Jungkook slides the question in before Hoseok heads to the elevator and off to an event. They’ve just finished having a check-in with CEO Jeon, who wanted to make sure that the two of them are well-prepared for this Friday, given that presenting during these meetings and contributing to policy and strategy are crucial in their roles as President and Vice President. Jungkook won’t admit that it caused him a bit of anxiety, but he’ll surely take the chance to ask his cousin for tips on how to make sure that he doesn’t screw up.

“I do,” Hoseok answers as he holds off on pressing the button. “Ask your assistant. And then listen to what she says.”

Jungkook visibly sighs. “Hoseok, I mean it.”

“I mean it, too,” the older man replies. “If it’s anything about our strategic plan or policies, just take my lead. And it’s your very first so you’re expected to still be adjusting. If it’s about the presentation, let ___ brief you about it. She’s been with me every single time I had to present. When I was focused on what I had to say, she was focused on how the Board was reacting and how those translated to the questions they eventually asked. She’d know what you’ll need to emphasize on or who you need to be wary of.”

There’s an unsure look in Jungkook’s eyes, and Hoseok knows it isn’t about trusting you. It’s about him.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Hoseok asks. “What are you afraid of, Kook?”

“You know what they think of me,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to screw up and give them more reasons to doubt me because they already do. And they’re definitely gonna ask about the Arts Center. What if they bring up my disappointing social skills? I don’t wanna end up feeling inadequate and embarrassing father.”

“Keep thinking that way and you will,” Hoseok huffs. “Look. Our family owns the company. You and I were trained to run it after my sister and your brother decided they didn’t want to. The Board knows this. They’ll either stay in our good graces or plot against us. Your father knows that, too, and that’s why he’s being hard on both of us because he knows what we’ll have to face. That also just means he’ll always be on your side. He’ll always be on ours. The Board could be intimidating but we still hold the power. They’ll impose or question or cast doubt because they want to feel that sense of control. It’ll only affect you if you let them.”

“Okay” is all that Jungkook manages to say, a tinge of resignation on his face as he takes in his cousin’s words.

“You’ve managed worse people than them,” Hoseok assured him. “Just focus, stand by your project, and engage them. Simple as that.”

“Yes, it’s very simple,” Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Like I said, your assistant’s there for a reason, Kook. This is when I get to tell you that it’s her job. We would prepare together and debrief right after, and it always helped because she fills in gaps and informs me of things I missed. Trust me. Trust her.”

The thing is, Jungkook does; he doesn’t need to be reminded that he should trust you because he’s learned to do that, despite it seemingly impossible given that you both started off on the wrong foot. It’s the thought of spending more time with you, during a time when he’s still trying to get used to you and how you affect him, that makes him worried about this. But it’s not something he can talk about with Hoseok. It’s not something he can talk about with anyone.

“Fine,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. I’ll go now. Have dinner at home tomorrow, okay? And I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jungkook waves the older man goodbye and then returns to his office, where he finds you dropping some files off for signing.

“Payment requests for the event,” you explain, earning you a nod from him as he walks to his seat. “How did the meeting with your father go, Mr. Jeon?”

“As I expected,” he huffs. “A bit of encouragement, more of the pressure. He’d slide in reminders of what the Board thinks of me and how I should present myself.”

“Is the pressure helping?” You ask.

“A little,” he sighs, sinking into his chair and exhaling deeply. He rolls his head back and closes his eyes, allowing himself a few seconds of peace. “But I still need help. Hoseok said I can get it from you.”

“You know, he oversells me sometimes,” you manage to laugh, prompting Jungkook to look at you now. “I know I’m competent. But I don’t know about being your source of help for a Board meeting any more than providing you with data.” Jungkook likes to do things on his own after all, you think to yourself.

“But you’ve been to as many Board meetings as he has.”

“Yes, but only for his presentation.”

“And that’s what I need help with,” he says. “I just need direction, I guess. Or affirmation that how I’m doing it is the right way. Or tips on who to woo or who to not take seriously.”

Jungkook has been to a few Board meetings but he’s never had to present anything. He’s also never had to engage with the members so he didn’t pay much attention to them because he didn’t feel the need to. These appointments were all a few years too early, and while he’d had a critical position in the Southeast Asian headquarters, everything had gone through his uncle who headed the office then.

This is the first time that Jungkook feels the magnitude of all his decisions, and that every move he makes is being assessed. And even with his father and Hoseok giving him guidance, they have their own teams to manage and an entire company to run, just like him. Somehow, with all the people around him, Jungkook still feels alone.

You, with your perpetual presence and surprising warmth, are the only one who makes him feel otherwise. And it terrifies him more than anything.

“Well, I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” you hum. “I can maybe go through my notes and share them with you.”

“Good. I’d like to do that over lunch, since I’ll have you and Manager Lee watch me practice the presentation around 2.”

Jungkook picks up the slight fall of your face. “Is that a problem?” He asks. “Did you have lunch plans?”

“Nothing more important than assisting you, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a change of expression indicating that you indeed had prior commitments that you’re putting off because of him. “I’ll inform Manager Lee about meeting with him after.”

You head out and return to your desk to work on your remaining tasks for the morning until lunch time rolls by and you accompany Jungkook to a nearby restaurant as he’d asked. You try not to get too excited about the meal in front of you and then control yourself from letting out orgasmic sounds from the succulent piece of salmon that’s melting in your mouth. This check-in seems too important for Jungkook and you want to support him in any way you can.

“How was Hoseok during his first Board meeting?” Jungkook starts.

“Nervous, a little rattled. His sister left him behind with a lot of work and she was abroad for most of the time so they weren’t able to meet up,” you share. “But he got up there and presented all the office’s gains for the past months and then explained his plans moving forward. He had all these good ideas on policy and strategy and he articulated them well. He had to take over multiple small projects and he showed how he planned to manage all of them. His charms sort of hid away the anxiety he was feeling and I guess that eventually helped him get rid of it.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can’t claim that I have,” Jungkook sighs.

He looks at you to see your reaction, and the awkwardness on your face makes him internally laugh.

“I can lie to you if you want me to,” you say, and he chuckles, surprising you both, though he acts like he doesn’t mind.

“I’d actually want you to be as honest with me as possible, Ms. Cho. I don’t want you, of all people, to suck up to me to get on my good graces.”

“Great, since I wasn’t on it in the first place,” you trail, earning you another laugh, and you wish this could at least lessen the pressure he’s putting himself under.

“That’s true,” he says, holding your gaze. He turns to his food before he gets sucked in your gorgeous eyes even more. “But I mean it. I don’t exactly know how to charm people, much less the Board. I don’t want to add to the narrative they already have of me having terrible social skills. But I also don’t want them to think I’m being fake or pretentious.”

“If I may, you’ll botch that aspect if you keep thinking about it,” you advise. “Perhaps you can just focus on what you’re good at. Delivering a presentation, regardless of what it’s about, is a skill. You have all the information and I can add some more if you’re not confident with them. You also tweaked some existing processes and you can build on it. But also, the Arts Center will definitely be their focus, so talk about it the way you would with your father and the team… and me. You let us envision it with your words and your visuals and those are all you need.”

“Okay then. I’ll just imagine they’re all vegetables or something so I can focus.”

“Mrs. Doi likes making eye contact because she wants to feel like you’re conversing with her,” you say. “Mrs. Seo asks a lot of irrelevant questions but you have to answer as if they’re important. Mr. Ong likes being acknowledged every time he says something or even nods. So I don’t recommend acting as if they’re inanimate. Maybe just with Mr. Wang because he falls asleep in everything, but don’t take it personally. I think it’s a medical condition.”

Jungkook’s amused look encourages you to continue.

“Mr. Mun doesn’t really get design and building terms so you’d have to explain them at least twice. Mr. Bong tends to act all mighty but he doesn’t really know much. Same with Mr. Im and Ms. Hwa. The rest are fine,” you say. “Mr. Saito is very thoughtful. He’s a designer so his insights would be good. Ms. Cheng is unproblematic and overall just supportive. Mr. Yeon is just… there. They’re quite intense when it comes to profits and the company’s image but if you stand by what you know, they won’t really say much.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a lot to take in. And also very informative,” Jungkook states. “I never noticed any of those.”

“Well, you had your reasons to be in those meetings and maybe you didn’t have a reason to pay attention to them,” you shrug. “I do. I thought it was an added way that I could help Mr. Jung. Assistants are asked to sit on the side of the room so we can be easily signaled for anything and I thought I could use that position to observe the Board members and see how they respond to the presentation. It helped for the succeeding ones and it took the pressure off him in terms of needing to appease them.”

“Makes sense,” Jungkook hums. “Worrying about how they’ll react or what they’ll say is half of the pressure.”

“It is. I couldn’t help Mr. Jung for his first time because it was mine, too, but he picked things up quite easily. He knew who to pay attention to.”

“Well, considering that I don’t seem to be ideal for this relationship-heavy position, I’ll have to pay attention and appease all of them, it seems.”

“If I may, Mr. Jeon, you can take it as a challenge,” you advise, feeling more comfortable in being honest now. “I may be just a humble assistant but I’ve seen things. With all the praises for Mr. Jung - which are deserved, of course - I’ve witnessed his moments of distress, which is perfectly normal for anyone. A-yeong had to remind him of how good he was everyday because he needed that push and it helped him. It also helped that he was trying to prove something and that he was always told that he had all the qualities to do that.”

“Not everyone has a supportive wife like him though. Or like my father,” Jungkook laughs dryly.

“They had supportive assistants,” you offer, trying to be optimistic. “I had to fill-in as Mr. Jung’s sounding board and I was always in awe at his approach to things.”

“Which is very different from mine, I know,” Jungkook says unintentionally, the sigh making you feel like he’s tired of the comparison, and you feel a bit bad at having to seemingly remind him of that.

“And which isn’t bad at all,” you try to assure him. “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s not right.”

Well, it wasn’t right to treat you the way I did, he wants to say, but the words stay in his head and at the tip of his tongue.

“That’s… comforting,” he says instead.

“I was trying to be assuring but comforting is fine, too,” you chuckle. “But I mean it, sir. I know there are all these expectations and I won’t be able to truly understand what the pressure is like but if you allow it to challenge you, you might even surprise yourself. And then you’ll end up surprising them, too. But do it for you. At the end of the day, they’re just the Board but you’re the Vice President. And you’re you. You’re all you can control.”

There’s a beat of silence as Jungkook takes in everything you’d said. You have this persistence about you that’s reflected in the way you carry yourself and in the way you relate with others, especially towards him despite how he’d treated you not long ago. Regardless of what you said, he thinks you know exactly what he feels when it comes to dealing with pressure. He supposes that working for his family can do that to someone, especially when it’s him.

“Such moving words, Ms. Cho,” he finally says.

“I didn’t mean to give unwanted advice,” you shake your head in disappointment.

“I needed it though,” he surprises you. “Other than Hoseok or even Yoongi, who are both busy themselves, I only have you as a sounding board. And as support. So, uh, thanks.”

He says his gratitude with a soft tone, almost embarrassingly. You can tell it’s something he doesn’t say that often, but you take it, as you think it’s another step towards him trusting you even more. And you need that trust for now; it’s this peaceful and honest dynamic with him that’s making your job bearable.

Lunch continues with Jungkook asking more questions about some of the Board members and you dishing some dirt on some of them as what you’ve heard in the office washrooms, perhaps the only gossip you don’t take with a grain of salt. He’s amused, and you think this is the most expressive you’ve seen him.

You proceed to meet with Manager Lee in the conference room where Jungkook goes through each slide presentation, asking both of you for more information he thinks he needs and about how he’s carrying himself, his tone, his pace, and his engagement. It’s good enough for a first run-through, Manager Lee says, and Jungkook decides to dry-run it again on Thursday.

The rest of your day goes by a little stressfully. There are multiple events that you have to organize and coordinate with other offices, and those are what you work on until you clock out on time.

Jungkook stays behind for only half an hour before deciding he’s had enough of looking through his notes and will return to them tomorrow. He takes the elevator and nods when Yoongi enters.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets. “How are the designs for the Changwon mid-rise?”

“It’s 6:00. I don’t wanna talk about work,” Yoongi whines.

Jungkook knows this. It’s also why he likes to tease his friend about it.

“Fine. We can just stand next to each other awkwardly until we have to get off,” Jungkook says.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. “Or, we can talk about how my lunch plans changed because someone asked my lunch partner for a meeting.”

The tension immediately rises and Jungkook hates how affected he is by Yoongi’s teasing.

“Ah, so it was you. Well, she did say it wasn’t as important as what we were meeting about,” Jungkook hits back.

“True. It’s about the Board meeting after all. It’s a pretty big deal.”

Jungkook starts to feel hot all over, as the thought of you and Yoongi conversing about your thwarted lunch plans because of him plays in his head. It’s a mix of frustration and disappointment. While the meeting was in no way confidential, he just hates the idea that it was something you shared with Yoongi. Perhaps it’s just after the fact, considering that Jungkook thinks it was a good lunch. You clearly enjoyed the dish - he could see how you tried to control your reactions to it - and your conversations went by smoothly. You were honest and supportive; he was open and all the more surprised with how well you were able to calm him down. It’s as if someone else was privy to that moment you both shared, even if Yoongi wasn’t there.

“Huh, I thought you were over her,” Jungkook says, the bitterness slicing through. If his friend picks it up, he doesn’t say anything.

“I am. We were just gonna have lunch at this noodle house because she was craving it,” Yoongi clarifies. “I told you, I’m her only friend here. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who cares about you every once in a while, you know? It’s hard being a working adult and we all need a bit of a break and a companion sometimes. It didn’t mean anything more than that.”

Jungkook chooses not to respond and Yoongi could tell why. There’s this look of annoyance painting the younger man’s face, which makes him a lot more transparent than he wishes he was.

But Yoongi can see right through his friend. It’s not something he raises though, but he won’t be surprised if Jungkook dwells on this. He just hopes it isn’t to your detriment again.

The ride home wasn’t as terrible last night, and after your elder neighbor gave you some stew because she cooked too much, you had a satisfying dinner and an even more satisfying slumber.

You feel like the end of the week isn’t too far ahead - although there really isn’t anything exciting for you except for a date with your bed - and you just want to get through all your tasks for the day and get that jjajangmyeon that Yoongi said he’ll get for you today so you can eat it for dinner. You were initially upset at having to pass up on him for yesterday’s lunch, but you’d be the first to admit that sharing that meal with Jungkook was still worthwhile.

Not only was the dish you ordered one of the best things you’ve ever eaten, it was also nice to see Jungkook loosen up a bit after feeling tense all morning because of his presentation. You liked that he’s being open to getting support from you, as it seems that he sees you now as more than just the assistant who’s there to serve him. He seems to appreciate your thoughts and didn’t even act bitterly when you gave him unsolicited advice. You feel even more that your relationship improves daily.

That is, until you enter his penthouse this Wednesday morning with barely a look of acknowledgement from him. Going through your routine, he doesn’t say much; he stays silent the entire ride to the office as well.

When you enter his room to serve his coffee, his furrowed brows have returned and his jaws are clenched as he types away on his desktop.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, his voice stern once again.

You turn around to face him, wondering what has happened since you left the office yesterday.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“I just wanted to raise that while I understand you have personal relationships with other employees, I do not appreciate you divulging the topics of our meetings with them. Even if they’re my friend as well.”

His last sentence gives away who he’s talking about, and the conversation with Yoongi after you canceled your lunch plans with him rings in your head.

It was a harmless statement, you want to say; you didn’t share any more than it being a meeting about his presentation. There was no ill-intent in you telling Yoongi why you couldn’t see him for lunch. But you choose to pass up on reasoning with Jungkook. He builds his wall up even more when you do, and you don’t want things to be that way again, not when they seemed to be going okay already these past few days.

So you nod and concede. “I understand, Mr. Jeon, and I apologize. I won’t do it again.”

Jungkook can’t help but just look at you, internally smacking himself as your face falls further and as you, once again, feel far away because of his own stupidity.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

He shakes his head no, and you bow in response, heading out, with the sadness in your eyes as the last thing he sees.

Jungkook is unable to focus on his emails and the conference call he takes part in. The words and thoughts are all jumbled when he practices his presentation, as his gaze constantly flits to your spot just outside where you sit, doing your tasks while looking detached and dejected.

He assumes you didn’t come to work expecting to be called out the way he did with you, which in hindsight, didn’t seem necessary, especially knowing how it’s affecting you right now. Things were going well between both of you after all - he’s being more open and you’re being more comfortable. Information was flowing smoothly, and communication has improved. And he just went ahead and screwed all that up.

Jungkook starts to feel stuffy. He’s been in his office working on things for the Arts Center and practicing most of the day, with you only coming in to bring the lunch he’d asked Mr. Ri to buy and his cups of coffee. You’ve avoided his gaze and haven't said much to him, too.

He decides to take a walk outside. The outdoor space on this floor has nice benches and a small garden that overlooks the Han River. He’s seen the team eat there sometimes, and while the weather may be a little too hot for it, he’d much rather breathe in the air than his humidifier.

But as he takes his time to open the door, he hears a familiar voice from outside.

“Fine, if you won’t take the sandwich, at least take the noodles,” Yoongi says. “You’ve been craving that all weekend.”

“Not anymore,” you huff, seemingly annoyed.

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Yoongi asks, calm and understanding in tone, traits that Jungkook could only hope to have.

“No… I don’t know,” you sigh. “Just that, whatever I talk to you about or mention, other people don’t need to know them, okay? No matter how harmless they are. Let’s just… not talk about work stuff. Especially in the office. That’s it.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

“What do you—”

“Mr. Min,” Jungkook calls out, fully opening the door now. “I have design guidelines I need you to go over. I need them by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Jungkook,” Yoongi bitterly replies, knowing what’s happened. “Just send them over to me.”

“Ms. Cho will do that right now.”

You nod in acknowledgement of Jungkook’s instruction and remain focused on your desktop. There’s silence in the air and tension that you can’t deal with right now.

“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Min?”

“Nah. If I do, I’ll check with your boss first if I can ask you for it. Don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

You finally look up at him, a tinge of annoyance painting his face, a rarity since Yoongi doesn’t seem to ever be irate about anything.

“And I’ll just take this jjajangmyeon if you don’t want it,” he adds, taking the container that’s on the ledge of your desk with him, before walking out of your area.

You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. You really love that noodle house’s version and you’ve been craving it for days. It’s where you and Yoongi were both supposed to have lunch yesterday but Jungkook spoiled it, and it wouldn’t have mattered as much, until it became a reason for him to be upset with you again. You’re not exactly sure why, but much as you want to question your boss this time, you don’t have the energy for it. It doesn’t seem worth it, but it also doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi might have said something to Jungkook, and that’s a dynamic you’re still unsure how to read or deal with.

Your gaze shifts to the man himself, who looks less annoyed than he did at the start of the day. You don’t know how his practice has been going, since he hasn’t asked you to run it with him, but you suppose he’s doing alright. He’s been in his room all day doing that and taking calls in between.

Jungkook looks away and heads out. He lets the summer air clear his mind a little before he goes back inside. It’s 6PM by the time he emerges from his room, surprised at seeing your face still buried in piles of papers.

“Ms. Cho, I’ll be heading to Hoseok’s for dinner,” he says, getting your attention. “Anything that needs my signature or approval can wait tomorrow.”

He hopes you’ll read through his words, as he wishes you’d take a rest yourself, like you advise him to do.

“Finance needs your expense reports first thing tomorrow morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a little too stoic than he’s used to. “These can be signed tomorrow when you arrive.”

Jungkook just nods, knowing there’s not much he can do if you don’t want to go home yet. But he does leave you with a reminder.

“Ms. Cho,” he says before leaving. He’s met with curious eyes that he tries not to fall into. “Make sure to eat a proper dinner.”

He walks out too quickly, not wanting to see your reaction.

You’re too tired to react, but that just pushes you to finish all your work and head to the pantry for some biscuits. It’s then that you see the paper bag with a note on it.

For ___. Do not touch!

At the back, Yoongi writes, I’m sorry. Here’s a man who knows how to apologize, you think to yourself.

The bowl of jjajangmyeon is inside, as well as a container of gimari. The scent reminds you of how hungry you are, so you heat up the noodles and inhale your dinner as you stand by the table. The empty office and the faint sounds of the air conditioning make you think of how alone you really are - working past your hours on a Wednesday evening, a takeaway meal from a friend you’re pushing away, and a stressful trip back to your empty studio apartment.

You rarely ever feel lonely. You don’t equate being alone with that specific emotion or state. There’s certainty and clarity you get from being on your own. But on certain days, you let yourself crack a little and be vulnerable. On certain days, you let yourself admit that being alone makes you feel lonely, and that at this precise moment, it’s exactly what you feel.

You send Yoongi a message of thanks but don’t extend the conversation after he replies. You know it isn’t his fault, and knowing him, he wouldn’t have deliberately said anything that would’ve put you in this position. It could just be Jungkook misconstruing things, but you’ve been caught off guard and you don’t feel like dealing with anyone right now.

Resuming your work, you do your last review of the expense report and leave it on his desk for his signature in the morning - a struggle considering how messy it is, which is also a rarity, as he always likes to keep things organized. You can tell how stressed he is just by this, and the thought hits you again that it’s the Board meeting in two days, and he needs you to be your best for him; he needs you to be calm and stable for him.

Whatever you’re feeling can be pushed to the side until next week. You’ll talk to Yoongi after all this is over, you tell yourself; it’s more important that you focus on your tasks and just act as professionally and as unbothered as possible.

That proves to be easy early the next morning. You go about preparing Jungkook’s day in his penthouse, going over your coordination and organization of the upcoming events and acting as if what happened yesterday doesn’t bother you, with him not acting out of the ordinary, too. It’s easy when you get to the office as well. He signs off on the expense reports and you go to finance with only minimal clarifications needed.

But when you return to your desk and Jungkook calls you to his room, you feel the tension start to build as you find Yoongi seated on the chair, his face turning sullen at the sight of you.

You nod at him but look away immediately, shifting your gaze towards Jungkook.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Jeon?”

“Deciding on the pieces to be displayed in the event halls of the Arts Center,” he replies. “Artist Lee Jaemin gave us her portfolio for us to choose from. And I’d like you and Yoongi to work on it together before lunch.”

This prompts you to look at Jungkook in surprise. He just told you off about the things you told Yoongi - which, to your defense, wasn’t even anything substantial - and now he’s making you work with the man.

“What about the run through of your presentation, sir?” You ask.

“I’ll do it with Manager Lee. His feedback will be adequate,” Jungkook replies. “I need your options because I’ll be speaking with her tonight about the chosen pieces.”

“I…, uh,” you stutter. “In what way can I be of help, Mr. Jeon? Wouldn’t Mr. Min be enough to make those decisions?”

“You hold the budget, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you. “We need to make sure we follow it. And you and Mr. Min understand my vision more than anyone and I need both of you to bring that to life with those artworks. I’m packed with meetings today so I don’t have time to sort through all of them. I trust that you’ll make the best decisions.”

“Of course we will, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, a bit of bitterness laced in it. “___ and I work well together. It isn’t the first time.”

Jungkook merely nods, and you feel the tension build up even more as both men share hardened looks that you can’t particularly decipher.

“I… I’ll go ahead and prepare the conference room. I shall see you there shortly, Mr. Min.”

You exit the office and breathe a sigh of relief from being out of there. You don’t know what their friendship is like, so you’re unsure if the tension is a sign of something serious or if it’s just a normal thing for them. You choose to brush it off for now and prepare for the meeting, walking to the pantry for a cup of tea before you do.

Back inside, both men remain unmoving, their gazes not faltering away from each other. Yoongi’s look of displeasure is a contrast to Jungkook’s somber, almost guilty face.

“Driving a wedge between us is kind of an asshole move, you know?” Yoongi finally says. “I don’t know what your deal is but this isn’t how you make it up to her. You don’t get to be nice one day then just decide you’ll be jealous and irrational the next without her even knowing what she did.”

“That’s… that’s not what I was trying to do,” Jungkook reasons.

“Then what were you trying to do?” Yoongi scoffs. “I was the one she turned down to have lunch with you. Actually, it was her plan, because she’s been spending so much time alone and she just wanted to hang out with a friend. And not only did you hinder that, you also made her feel like she did something wrong when all she said was that you had to talk about the Board meeting. No one would even bat an eye. Now she can’t even talk to me properly without fearing it’ll hurt your fragile ego.”

The truth is a huge slap on Jungkook’s face, and he feels it sting. He’s seen your comfort around his friend a few times. He also knows that Yoongi has been looking out for you when you fail to take care of yourself. And because of that jealousy and his fragile ego, you might just end up pushing Yoongi away, and isolating you is the last thing Jungkook wants to do.

He tries to say something but his throat dries up, knowing that verbalizing anything would prompt him to face feelings he’s trying so hard to suppress. He hopes Yoongi sees right through him, and the sullen look of the older man says he might.

“You’re not a bad person, Jungkook,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know what about her makes you like this. But if all you’ll do is find fault in everything she does, you’re gonna lose all the progress in your relationship. And you've got to know that’s not fair to her. You know she doesn’t deserve that.”

“She doesn’t.”

It’s the way Jungkook says the words that Yoongi knows his friend regrets what he’d done, perhaps not just yesterday but the other times as well. There’s this emptiness in Jungkook’s eyes that Yoongi hasn’t seen before; he doesn’t want the younger man to drown and lose himself in it.

“I’m… I’m, uh—”

“I know,” Yoongi interjects, knowing how hard it is for Jungkook to verbalize what he feels. “And I forgive you. I suggest you find the words and say them to her. Yeah?”

Jungkook merely nods, knowing that would be difficult for him, not because he won’t mean it but because they mean so much more. With you, it always does.

“I’ll head to meet with her now.”

“Please fix it,” Jungkook almost pleads. “I think she needs you.”

Yoongi gives a look of understanding then heads out to the conference room where he finds you seated already. The lights are dim, allowing him to see Lee Jaemin’s art pieces projected on the wall. You’re focused on your laptop screen, not budging even as he opens the door and sits next to you.

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks, urging you to look at him.

“No,” you say softly.

“Then why do you act like you still are?” He asks sullenly. “You know I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault though,” you reply, finally turning to him, your own soft eyes mirroring his. “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“But I want to. Because I know it matters that you hear the words even if they’re not from the person who needs to be saying them.”

“You know he doesn’t do that,” you sigh, knowing exactly who he means.

“He’ll have to learn how to. Or just stop having a reason to apologize in the first place.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shrug. “But I’m sorry, too. I just didn’t know how to act yesterday and earlier. I just didn’t want any more drama.”

“I know, and it’s okay. It’s not your fault either. I had to call him out for it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I called him an asshole.”

“You–what?”

“Well, sort of. He had to hear it, and it seemed like he knew it, too. That's why he wanted me to fix things. Not that anything was broken, as far as I know.”

“Is that why he made me meet with you?”

“Yes, about something that he and I could easily do over coffee or a meal,” Yoongi chuckles. “But like I told you before - he tries. It’s usually just a misstep or something more complicated than actually saying sorry.”

“It’s hard for him to say, I guess. Maybe he just has his own ways of saying them.”

“It’s still not an excuse to be an asshole though.”

“At least you’re there to call him out for it,” you chuckle.

Yoongi laughs along, knowing it’s a role in Jungkook’s life that he wouldn’t mind taking. And just like that, the tension between the two of you is gone. He throws in a few jokes in there that take seconds for you to process, and it’s his crinkled smile that makes you smile and feel comfortable as well. It’s the icebreaker you need before getting to work, and it takes you both until lunchtime to decide on which of Lee Jaemin’s pieces you think would fit well in the event halls that Jungkook wants to put them in.

It’s a different experience for you, as you’ve never made decisions like this before. You wouldn’t say you’re artistic in any sense, but Yoongi’s approval of your choices and agreement with your reasoning make you feel that you aren’t as design-blind as you think. And while Jungkook has the final say - you’re not even sure if your choices would make the final cut - it’s still satisfying to see the empty spaces come to life on your screen with artworks that you chose with Yoongi, while still being within budget.

You both walk back to your work area where you see Manager Lee, and he tells you that Jungkook seems ready for tomorrow’s Board meeting. You enter his office with Yoongi, presenting what you’ve come up with - the greens and pinks common in her pieces give the room so much life, and the imperfections of her subjects leave viewers with much to admire. From the tropics to intimacy, the bright yet muted palette of the images elicits both joy and loneliness.

Jungkook goes through them while you and Yoongi look on.

“I’ll check each piece again later,” Jungkook says. “But these look good; I’d choose these myself.”

“___ chose most of them,” Yoongi says, earning him a glare from you.

“Is that so, Ms. Cho?” Jungkook asks.

“Mr. Min helped. And those pieces just spoke to me, I guess,” you answer shyly. “They’re beautiful pieces, Mr. Jeon. But I don’t have any arts or design background so please feel free to change them.”

“We’ll see,” he says, looking at you with a kind of affirmation that you’re not used to.

You nod in response and check the time. He’s got another meeting in an hour and he should be having lunch soon.

“What would you like to eat, Mr. Jeon? I can get it for you,” you say.

“No need. I asked Mr. Ri to get me something. I figured you might have lunch plans,” Jungkook responds, glancing at you and then Yoongi.

You look at the man next to you, who motions towards the door and you get what he means immediately.

“Okay, Mr. Jeon. I’ll go take my break now.”

You walk out with Yoongi who asks you what you’re craving, and sweet and sour pork comes to mind. He chuckles at your excited face, and you grab your purse and head out, turning back once to catch Jungkook watching you walk away.

Maybe this is his apology. In whatever form it is, you’ll take it. You find sometimes that the silence in place of words means a lot more, in ways that feel more.

The rest of your afternoon again feels like a blur, as you meet with the support team about the upcoming events and make sure everyone is on the same page. You spend an hour on the phone with Lucas about some Singapore and Malaysia-based Korean artists who are flying for the project launch in a few weeks while Jungkook goes from one virtual meeting to another.

It’s 5:30 before you know it, and you’re working on your spreadsheets when Jungkook walks out of his office, saying that he’s meeting with Lee Jaemin later in the evening and that he’ll just update you about the final pieces.

You acknowledge him and wish him goodbye, but he stops on the way, at the entrance towards the hallway, making sure he remains present while unable to see you.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, surprising you.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“About what I said yesterday, I apologize,” he says, almost stuttering. “Especially if it caused a rift between you and Yoongi. I didn’t intend that.”

You’re too shocked to say anything, much more process the words that you can’t believe he’s saying. But he really is apologizing; he really is trying.

“It… it’s okay, Mr. Jeon. I understand.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re left to observe him from this angle - jaws clenched, head bowed down.

He deeply exhales. “I’ll go now. No need to stay late; you can go home when you’re able.”

“Okay, sir. Have a good night.”

He finally leaves, and the silence engulfs you. Sometimes, words in any form truly matter. You could only hope that Jungkook knows that.

The suit that you choose for Jungkook for today’s big day is a dark gray textured piece. He looks immaculate as he stands before you, and you try your best to even your breathing as you fix his tie like you do every morning. There’s something about him today that makes him more handsome than usual - a quality that you’ve found yourself admitting and accepting more easily as the days go by. He exudes a certain kind of confidence and power with his attire and his parted hair. There’s determination in his eyes as he stands tall, ready to face the day.

And you’re there, admiring the way he carries himself just inches away.

You fix the collar of his suit and make sure that all creases are flattened. You meet his eyes and the confidence melts away a little.

“Do I look respectable enough?” He asks, a little less serious than you expected. It’s when you see the nervousness in his eyes that you know how important today is for him.

“Yes,” you assure him. “You also look ready to impress the Board members with your presentation and get them on your side. I’m sure your vision about the Arts Center will make them believers.”

“Ah, well, that’s asking for too much, I guess,” he laughs dryly. “But I was on the call with Lee Jaemin last night and she was so excited for the launch. It would get her to visit Seoul often, she said, and that made me realize that artists like her and the consumers, the ordinary people, the ones who the Center is for - they’re the ones who matter. It’s their interest and appreciation that I value, not the Board’s.”

“That’s a good realization to come to, then, Mr. Jeon,” you smile, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing a different man - someone who cares about meaning and the power of art. “I suppose if that’s your mindset coming into the meeting, then you’ll definitely do well.”

“I think if there’s at least one other person who ends up believing in the value of the Center, that would be enough for me,” he says, holding your gaze for a while before turning away. “But uh, today is more than that. You and I both know they’re there to assess my capabilities - social and otherwise - and definitely point out what I lack, or probably tell me I’m not cut out for this job or that I’m terrible or something. I mean, you would know, right?”

His eyes, focused downward, slowly shift to you. You know what he means, and given that he isn’t the type to admit to things, this is probably the only other time that he comes close to acknowledging how he was to you.

“Mr. Jeon, if you’re indeed terrible, I would have quit after a week. Or… well, after the second day,” you admit.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I couldn’t afford to,” you chuckle to ease the tension. “But also I… I saw the change. And that’s always a good thing. Lacking something is normal. We all have things we need to work on but that doesn’t make us terrible people. That just means we need a bit of understanding from others. And that also means we just have to keep trying to be better.”

There’s a sullenness in Jungkook’s eyes but there’s acceptance and understanding, too. Perhaps it’s the most sincere you’ve seen him look, and of all the days that he needs assurance about how he’s been, today is when he needs it the most. Sure, there are still things about him that you wish he’d work on. He’s still not the best person in the world. He could still be a bit impulsive with you and can sometimes be irrational in your eyes and definitely needs work on dealing with his emotions. But he’s trying. That always counts for something.

“We do,” he nods.

“Your father believes in you. Hoseok believes in you, so does Yoongi.” Holding his gaze, you add, “so do I. So trust in yourself. If you can’t do it for you, you can do it for us.”

“Is giving pep talks part of the job description?”

“It should,” you giggle. “But I’ve given several of them to Mr. Jung. I’ve learned that during stressful moments or just when we’re a little overwhelmed, it makes a difference to hear the things we already know from someone else.”

“I’m a little stubborn, but I hope you continue doing that for me. For as long as you think I deserve it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know where the honesty and vulnerability are coming from. But he’s found that with you, it’s natural - difficult because they’re things he rarely is around other people, but natural. He doesn’t want to question it anymore for fear of learning what else is instinctive for him when it comes to you. But with the way his insides melt with how you sweetly and assuringly smile at him, he realizes that his defenses against you are not that strong to begin with.

“Well, we don’t have time to pass by a cafe for a nice breakfast so I asked Mr. Ri to get some instead,” you announce, changing the subject now.

You walk towards the dining room where he follows, and you present a spread of pastries, walnut tarts, and sausage rolls alongside a large cup of coffee.

“I don’t really eat before a big meeting,” he says, frowning a little. “I’m sure Lucas told you that.”

“He did, but I’m a little stubborn, too,” you counter. “Breakfast is important before a big meeting, Mr. Jeon. It’ll help you focus, even if that’s just one tart or half a danish or a quarter of a roll. Eating will improve your energy levels and lift your mood. It might help ease your nerves somehow.”

“Fine, but I’ll just have half a roll.”

“No worries. You can always eat some more throughout the day,” you say.

Jungkook ends up finishing the entire roll and a walnut tart, while you finish a danish and settle for tea. You pack up what’s left, and he instructs you to give the rest to the team.

The car ride is quiet, save for the gentle sound of his pencil gliding through the pages of his leather notebook. He seems to be channeling his energy in a way that allows him to be calm, you think, and that’s a good thing.

You arrive at the building and Jungkook goes straight to his office while you excuse yourself to go to the conference room to help the other assistants prepare it. You don’t see Jungkook until an hour later when he enters, and you lead him to his seat then serve his coffee afterwards. It gets busy quickly as the Board members arrive, and you help in ushering them to their seats and catering to their needs. Before you know it, the assistants are heading out, leaving them and the executives to discuss confidential matters that none of you are required to know.

It’s another two hours before the presentations start, but Jungkook won’t go until after lunch. So you settle in your desk and work on various things, unable to fully focus because your mind constantly goes to him.

This is normal, you convince yourself; you had the same nervous energy for Hoseok the first time he did this. But then again, it was your first time, too. Perhaps it’s knowing how much it means to Jungkook and his own worries that makes you feel uneasy.

You understand the feeling of wanting to prove oneself, and not always being able to fully express that desire to others. He’s been honest with you recently, and sometimes it can feel quite isolating when no one is there to share the burden, which is why you’ve been trying to cheer him up and encourage him, in hopes that he’ll feel supported, that whatever happens today, he knows he has you on his side.

You proceed to the function hall for the catered lunch where you meet Jungkook. He shares the table with Hoseok and Bitna, as well as Ji-woo and her assistant, and you engage in conversation with them like old times.

Jungkook watches you speak to his cousins casually but respectfully, and he doesn’t miss the inside jokes and personal details that you all share. You still look a little reserved, but there’s this comfort in the way you express yourself around people who trust and care for and respect you.

He’s always known Hoseok and Ji-woo to be great with the employees, and a part of Jungkook envies that they’re able to just share parts of themselves with others, that they’re able to expend their time and energy being around them, something that’s always been difficult for him. He likes his privacy, likes his own space; he revels in the silence to battle the noise in his head. He’s protective of his thoughts and his feelings; he’s particular with who uses his time and energy on; he keeps his distance because it’s always easier - to not be involved, to not be invested, to not be known at all rather than be judged because of what people know.

He also thinks it’s quite isolating. Outside of his family - whom he keeps his distance from as well - the only person who knows him enough is Lucas, but it’s as shallow as just knowing his preferences and his technical opinion on things, not his dreams or fears or everyday thoughts and emotions.

Jungkook isn’t someone that people go to for advice or for encouraging words; he’s not someone that people ask about how he’s doing; he’s not a person that others seek for comfort or warmth. He’s just a man who does his work, that people serve, that people want approval from for their own gains. He’s not someone they’d go through lengths for. He just takes up space that others orbit around but he’s not the center of their world; he isn’t anybody’s.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Jeon?” You disrupt his thoughts. “Is there anything you want?”

“Chocolate milk,” he says too quickly. “Uh, only if there is.”

“Hot?”

“Yes.”

You call the server and ask if they have any, but the man says they don’t, so you decide to head to one of the stalls at the food hall downstairs.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says, pulling your wrist in reflex as you stand up.

You’re caught off guard and so is he, and he immediately lets go and apologizes for it. The guilt in his eyes is similar to the one you saw at the restaurant when you’d admitted that he made you feel uncomfortable, and something about it makes you feel moved.

“I mean, uh, it’s okay. It’s not urgent,” he adds, looking away.

“If it’ll help, then I should get it for you, Mr. Jeon,” you insist. “It won’t take long. I’ll be back before lunch ends.”

You don’t wait for a response and head out, leaving Jungkook with curious looks from his cousins.

“So, I see you’ve warmed up to her already,” Ji-woo hums, smiling.

“You could say that,” Jungkook shrugs, acting nonchalant.

“Well, it’s about time you did,” Ji-woo shakes her head. “She works incredibly hard and she’s very reliable.” At the younger man’s nod in agreement, she adds, “you just had to give her a chance. There’s a reason why uncle and Hoseok wanted her around for you.”

“I guess,” Jungkook hums. “She’s… she’s a good person. I don’t really know if I deserve that but she is to me. She’s required to be, I suppose.”

“Or she sees you as a human being who needs a bit of warmth and joy in his life,” Ji-woo suggests. “Kindness goes a long way, you know? She’s said before that there are people who have extended it to her and maybe she’s just doing that, too.”

“Or maybe she sees something in you,” Hoseok says now.

“Like what?” Jungkook scoffs, knowing himself that after he’s treated you, there’s no way you’d see something in him, whatever that is.

“Like an emptiness, or yearning. Something she feels, too,” Hoseok responds. “Maybe she’s unknowingly making you feel something that she wants to feel herself, you know? I had A-yeong, my sister, my parents, my friends... Seeing her now with you, she didn’t pay attention to my every need the way she’s doing now, and that’s not a criticism of her. Perhaps she just knew that I had other people to do that.”

“And I’m the lonely, single, friendless man that she’s stuck with,” Jungkook laughs dryly, although he’s not offended. Deep down, he knows it’s true.

“Sort of,” Hoseok chuckles. “But what I really mean is that she knows what it’s like to not have someone to look after her like that. You may think it’s just her job but I think it’s her not wanting you to feel like there’s no one there for you. Maybe if you see it that way, you wouldn’t think you don’t deserve it. Then you can accept it and maybe you can do the same.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jungkook counters, given that keeping his distance is exactly what he plans to do because any closer would just lead him down a path that he won’t be able to escape from.

“It’s not that deep,” Ji-woo says. “I think what my brother is saying is that it’s okay to be friends, you know? Or just allow her to be nice to you and then return the favor. It’s a much better dynamic. I mean, I’m sure he’s told you but things are just gonna be more challenging down the road, once you’re past the adjusting phase. You’ll need her like you’ve never needed anyone before. I do mean that professionally, but that also requires a kind of relationship where you know and trust and respect each other. It goes both ways.”

Jungkook takes in his cousins’ words, knowing that they speak from experience, and they’ve been doing this longer than he has. He already knows he needs you. That itself terrifies him. He also knows he has to rely on you, and maybe that entails allowing you to care for him in ways that no one - not since Chaerin, at least - has ever done before. That means letting you come close, allowing you to know him, letting you be there for him. Doing the same for you isn’t a question of whether he wants to or not - he’ll probably be denying it to his grave, but it’s about whether he can remain within the boundaries he set for himself, knowing already how you affect him without even doing much.

The thought gives Jungkook a headache, but it’s not something he can give attention to right now. He’s got a presentation to do in less than an hour. He’ll be scrutinized and questioned and probably judged and then he realizes it again - he needs you through all that. He already knows you’ll be encouraging and supportive; you’ve shown that in the past week especially, and he’s appreciated and hated every single moment of it.

The hurried footsteps signal that you’re back, and you take your seat next to him.

You’re panting as you place the cup on the table. “Here you go, Mr. Jeon. I’m not sure if it’s as milky as you want it but the really good cafe downstairs said it should be good. Oh and uh, wrap your hands around it,” you instruct, earning you a curious look. “Your hands are very cold.”

Jungkook does as you say, feeling the warmth of the drink through his skin, even more when he takes a sip and finds that it tastes just as he wanted.

“This is good. Thank you,” he utters, not wanting to meet your eyes.

You exhale a sigh of relief. You know how he has particular tastes and you just went with a hot chocolate even if he specifically said he wanted chocolate milk. There’s a brand he likes from Lucas’ list and you didn’t have time to actually get it or even store the office pantry with it - which you realize now you should do, and you make a mental note of doing an inventory so you could request for more of the things he likes later on.

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “I… I hope it helps for the presentation. Or the nerves. Or just in general.”

“It has,” he confirms, humming with every sip.

Not long after, everyone is instructed to head back to the conference room so the meeting can resume. You take your seat with the other assistants at the side after you’ve ensured that the presentation is ready while Jungkook heads to the front. You watch him go through his notes a final time, and when he sets them aside and looks up, his eyes find yours.

They’re still tainted with worry, you can tell even from several feet away. So you give him a comforting smile, knowing it’s what he needs. You gently nod and give him a double thumbs up as if to say that he can do it, and he nods back, as if to say that he’ll do his best.

And that’s exactly what he does.

The presentation goes for a quarter of an hour, and while he does give a good rundown of the achievements of the past three months, it’s his pitch of the Arts Center that really makes him shine. The visuals are good to begin with. He did those blueprints himself and the designs give life to his vision, but he explains every aspect of the project with just enough detail to enable the audience to imagine how it looks and what it makes them feel. He took into consideration earlier worries about profits and brand reputation, as well as anticipated questions and points of attack, so he goes ahead and addresses them to the point that he can’t be scrutinized for anything that’s lacking. He keeps in mind the qualities of each Board member, so he makes eye contact if he needs to and acknowledges side comments and builds on them.

He’s definitely added more - and improved - since that first runthrough you did with him, and he looks very confident and very respectable. You can tell that he values not just profits but art itself - its creation, its appreciation, and the various ways it can be experienced. As someone who yearns for that kind of passion for something, seeing him like this is quite moving.

It doesn’t help that he looks as good as he does standing up there, and it’s a thought you let yourself have before dispelling it quickly.

He gets approving nods from most of the Board members. The rest still look a bit doubtful, but you suppose they wouldn’t directly criticize Jungkook and his plans in front of everyone after a presentation like that. You also take a peak at CEO Jeon who’s unable to hide how proud he is of his son. Hoseok and Ji-woo exchange smiles as well. But Jungkook remains focused, ready to answer any questions or comments from the Board.

Mr. Mun is the first to commend him and doesn’t ask much. Mr. Im surprisingly praises Jungkook after admitting his reservations, and Mr. Saito, as you expected, asks clarificatory questions that just builds on what was earlier presented. Jungkook’s readiness and creativity are highlighted as well, and you can tell that the older man is extremely excited for this project.

The hour is up before you know it, with only minimal questions and a few comments from the attendees. Ji-woo and Hoseok raise points to help with marketing and earning profit, and you take note of all those for discussion and debriefing next week.

Jungkook thanks everyone before returning to his seat, and you see the breath he lets out after, seemingly glad that that’s at least over. You catch his attention again, and you can’t help your smile. He acknowledges you with a nod, and he turns his focus towards Hoseok as the next presenter. The afternoon goes by like this, with Ji-woo going last and CEO Jeon closing out the meeting.

There’s some time before the fellowship dinner, which is spent with side conversations and check-ins. Mr. Saito goes to Jungkook right away and you see the latter’s face light up a little, although you don’t miss the sniffing and the throat clearing that he does. You think that his cold hands earlier weren’t due to his nervousness; perhaps the last month has finally caught up to him because you truly believe that this man does not rest.

You head out to return to your desk, knowing you’ve got several things to do before the dinner that assistants are invited to. You fly through your notes from earlier and some administrative tasks before heading back to the event hall where you find Jungkook talking to Mrs. Seo and Mr. Ong this time, two people who’d most likely be critical of him so you’re glad that he’s at least forging some relations, if their animated way of speaking is any indication.

You see him excuse himself to head to the washroom, and you take this time to order a cup of ginseng tea for him. It arrives just as he returns to his seat, and when it registers why you’d ordered it, he nods and mumbles his thanks.

“If I may, perhaps you shouldn’t stay long, Mr. Jeon,” you suggest. “It’s been a tiring week and you need to rest.”

Jungkook hates being told what to do, but he’s also never had someone tell him to rest because he needs it, much less even know that he’s not feeling alright.

“I need to engage with the Board,” he reasons. “I’m sure that’s what father would like. I can rest during the weekend.”

“Okay, sir,” you sigh, knowing he’s also right. Perhaps he’s accepted that this is a critical part of his new role as Vice President. “Just let me know if there’s anything more that I can help you with.”

“I will.”

You sit at the table where the other assistants are, engaging in hushed conversations as you talk about the Board members and how tired you all are. It’s nice being around them, as you all share the experience of stress and isolation, of knowing too much sometimes, of security and stagnancy. They know what you’re going through, partially at least - unlike you, they have people to go home to and proper hobbies that excite them. They have loved ones close by and things they look forward to during the weekends. So while they do make you feel understood, you also can’t help but be a bit jealous.

Your thoughts are suspended when Bitna offers to take you home. It’s well past 9 and you’re not keen on staying longer to drink with the rest of the big bosses here. You glance at Jungkook who has a wine in hand, clearly trying his best to keep up with the conversations he’s a part of. He looks incredibly tired - much more than usual - and you feel bad that this isn’t something you can help him with.

You take Bitna’s offer and you both head to your respective bosses to bid your goodbyes. Jungkook nods and mentions his meeting with the artist last night that he says he’ll discuss with you on Monday. There’s more you want to say, but you worry he’ll think you’re nagging about his health - which, you remind yourself, is also part of your job - and you don’t want to end the week on a sour note.

Jungkook watches you leave the event hall and he immediately feels your absence. Even when you spent much of your time apart, he could feel you there, partly because of the ginseng tea that you ordered for him twice at your insistence and partly because the knowledge that you’re around is enough. And now you aren’t, and he suddenly can’t stand any more of the socializing he has to do.

But he powers through it for another hour. When he bids his father goodbye, the older man commends him for his presentation earlier and the way he handled himself throughout the fellowship dinner. It’s assuring, but he knows there’s so much more work to be done so he doesn’t revel in it any longer than a few seconds.

The drive home is quiet. His soft groans as he massages his temples are the only sounds in the car. When he arrives at his empty penthouse, he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the counter and sits on the couch - a glass in hand, necktie and buttons undone, feet on the coffee table, and head rolled back as he reminds himself that he survived the day, that he did a good job, and that he changed some of the Board members’ minds about him.

And much as he tries to keep away the image of you, he’s unable to - there you were in the room, on his side, cheering him on. He didn’t miss the satisfied smile on your face once he finished his presentation, nor your look of worry after the ginseng tea was placed on the table.

You’re just good at that - making him feel like someone looks out for him, that someone else minds that he succeeds, that someone cares that he’s not well and that he should rest.

The smile on his face fades once he’s reminded that you’re supposed to do all that, and that he isn’t anyone special, nor should he be. It’s the thought that keeps him behind the lines - you’re unattainable in so many ways, yet he’s also glad that you are. It’s easier to be mindful of his place like that; it’s easier to accept that you’re you and he’s him, and it’s easier to do his job when he knows you’re just doing yours.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

But when he gets a call from reception the next morning about a package that you dropped off, all that wishful thinking seems pointless. And as he stares at the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him, all his thoughts from the night before come crashing down.

Why is everything so hard when it comes to you?

Series Masterlist

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #boss jungkook

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sayruq · 7 months

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So, I've had people asking, why does it matter if rockets are fired towards Tel Aviv and other settlements when they cause a fraction of the damage done by an Israeli missile?

Psychological warfare - the rocket barrages eliminate any sense of security that Israelis might have during the war. It reminds them that there's a price for the occupation of Palestine. I can't tell you how many videos I've seen of people in luxury resorts and other high class lodgings shouting and fleeing in fear at a rocket from Gaza or Yemen. It makes it hard for them to go about their daily life ignoring what is happening. Furthermore it undermines the strength of the IDF. Netanyahu can go on TV and claim to have complete control over Gaza but a rocket barrage undoes that easily. A rocket barrage tells Israelis and the rest of the world that not only is Hamas (and the other groups) still intact, it has enough of a stockpile to still bomb parts of Israel over 50 days into the conflict. Israeli media is constantly shocked every time this happens because there's always the assumption that Palestinians are unprepared in every way for the conflict we're seeing today. It forces them to take the threat posed by the Resistance very seriously which of course leads to the existential meltdowns you see on Israeli social media accounts.

De-settlement - There are hundreds of thousands of internally displaced settlers right now. Most of them are unwilling to return because the settlements are still getting hit and it's obvious the IDF is struggling to get things under control. The annexation of Palestinian land and the formation of settlements has led to a great deal of violence towards Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank. Hence, why forcing settlers to evacuate is seen as a great success by the Resistance and their supporters. Hezbollah, for example, has mentioned that several times while doing debriefs of their efforts in the conflict

Hits to the economy - if the settlers are evacuated, who will run local businesses? Not to mention underpaid and overworked foreign migrant workers have fled the country while exploited Gazan workers are trapped in Gaza. Israel is trying to combat this by making deals with countries like India and Mali to get tens of thousands of workers but it's not going to be enough especially the longer this conflict goes on. There's also the fact that tourism won't recover to pre war levels due to security concerns. The same thing with foreign capital leaving the country. Israel is too unstable and evidently incapable of regaining that stability (by quickly defeating the Palestinian resistance) which makes it risky to invest in Israeli businesses.

Logistical nightmare - Gazan rockets are cheap to produce, Israeli interceptor missiles are not. Israel is spending more to stop the barrages of rockets than the Resistance has spent probably in the past 5 years. It's the same issue on the Northern border to Lebanon and whenever Yemen sends its long range missiles. It's not like both Israel, America and Europe have endless supplies of weapons and ammunition, they sent most of their stockpiles to Ukraine. The longer this goes on, the more dire things will get but we're already seeing the strain

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #war on gaza #war news

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sunderwight · 4 days

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SV Mary Poppins-ish AU.

So lots of protagonists and antagonists and etc have tragic backstories. Turns out that this can present something of a logistical nightmare for systems in cases where the stories become "real", because there are many instances where an author overestimated how survivable certain angst-ridden circumstances actually were, and without some kind of intervention, a lot of characters actually don't make it anywhere near their intended power-up and revenge/villain/hero/etc arcs.

In cases where this is happening, the System deploys a special agent to go make sure that plot-crucial characters actually survive to the plot.

Enter Shen Yuan, case worker for tragic backstories. His job, basically, is to sweep in during the points of the backstory where the story isn't paying attention and provide actual care. Most of the time, the system ensures that his clients forget about him when he's no longer present, so he can't impact the plot or their character development. But that also means he gets to be as nice and supportive as he wants to be while he is there.

He hates it, though -- knowing that he has to leave his little charges behind to suffer, and that they'll all forget him, and that some of them will grow up and meet bad ends (because they're villains, or tragic heroes, or doomed mentors, or fridged love interests, or so on). However, he can't beat the system, so he just tries to compartmentalize it. Focus on the here-and-now, steadily accrue points, and get to where he can afford to buy a proper reincarnation.

He works in this fashion for a long time, although it's difficult to keep track of it when the System is constantly bouncing him from relevant backstory moments to pending non-canon catastrophes. Sometimes it's stories he knows, sometimes it's stories he doesn't, or is only peripherally aware of. The first time he arrives in PIDW, he doesn't even figure it out. Partly because it's not backstory info that actually made it into the novel, partly because he has by that point kind of stopped trying to figure out where he's going, and whether or not the cute little kid he's helping is going to get their limbs all chopped off someday.

He likes Xiao Jiu and Yue Qi, but given the sheer number of times he has to go save them from dying and try to comfort them in their misery, he doesn't foresee them meeting good ends.

And then there's Luo Binghe. Treating a baby for hypothermia, helping a lost little orphan reach a faraway mountain on his own, bringing him food and treating his wounds in the woodshed, whisking him away to brief (always so brief) magical escapes to just give his brain a chance to rest and recover from all the grief and struggle, even if he won't actually remember the reprieve. Shen Yuan can't pretend he doesn't know that Luo Binghe's story is going to take him to some rough places, can only console himself with the idea that he'll be able to intervene at the worst of times, and that in the end at least, Binghe will live.

At least, until Shen Yuan realizes who Binghe's scum shizun is after he accidentally crosses paths with Shen Qingqiu, and Xiao Jiu recognizes him. Remembers him.

Then he figures out just what exactly is going to happen, and who it is going to happen to, and suddenly all that compartmentalization fails him.

Nanny Shen goes rogue.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #shen yuan

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greenishghostey · 2 years

Text

Peppermint Haze

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, bath sex, p in v, unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, fluffy smut, established relationship, Eddie getting to chill out, dirty talk, creampie, soapy boobs, winter themed porn, lots of grinding, this is really just mushy fluffy porn so yeh

Word Count: 3,361

Author’s Notes: Please pretend that bath sex is not a logistical nightmare and that bubble baths aren’t terrible for vaginal health. The cosy, comfy vibes were too good to pass up so here we are :))) DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

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Hawkins always got indescribably cold by the middle of November. Snow would pile up on tree branches and sidewalks - becoming less of a Christmas card backdrop and more of a slushy inconvenience.

That was definitely the case at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The dirt track roads were frozen solid and covered in a thick layer of powder and wintery mush. A lot of the park’s residents took turns digging out sections of the roads since everyone still had to get to work. Winter wouldn’t stop the likes of Wayne Munson from making it to his Friday night shift.

Eddie and Wayne had been shovelling out Patty, their hippy elderly, neighbour’s grey hatchback when you showed up at their trailer. Friday night was date night, and the shitty weather meant it would be an evening in Eddie’s trailer.

Both you and Eddie had planned an extremely relaxing night since the week had been hell for you both. Eddie had been working late at the craft store because the holiday rush was beginning - he‘d kept you updated on his projects that mainly consisted of measuring fabric and lifting all of the heavy boxes. You had been dealing with an influx of school kids at the library - rushing to get books for their last-minute assignments and begging you for help finding specific titles. So, a little indulgent date was much needed for the pair of you.

Gloria, one of your coworkers, had gifted you with a small Christmas “spa” hamper as a thank you for all your hard work. It consisted of peppermint bath oil, vanilla body wash that doubled as bubble bath, and a cocoa butter lotion. It was all super nice stuff which made you feel a little bad for only having Christmas cards to give to your colleagues. However, the festive kit led to you and Eddie agreeing on your main date night activity.

A really really long bath. He was the one to suggest the idea after you gushed over the gift - the suggestion was mostly innocent, surprisingly. Honestly, you both just wanted to be all cosy and gross in the privacy of his home.

That’s how you found yourself submerged in an amazing soapy bath that smelled like heaven. Only your face was poking out from the bubbles as you breathed deeply - floating and listening to the muffled sounds of Eddie rummaging around his room for tapes. He said he’d made a tape, especially for the evening, making you melt even further into the minty bliss. Your sinuses were going to be so clear after this.

Eddie barged into the steamy bathroom in his usual loud, sort of clumsy way. The tile floor was more slippery than he’d anticipated so he had nearly crashed into the room. You poked your head up and gave him a little wave from the bubbles - hair soaked and a touch of foamy stubble on your jaw.

Once your sleepy eyes focused on him properly, you saw that he was butt naked while fiddling with his stereo on the counter.

You leaned on your forearms on the edge of the bath. “I don’t tell you enough how nice your butt is.” You sighed, smiling up at him when he glanced at you.

“I’d say it’s a little better than “nice”, at least “premium goods” status.” Eddie huffed jokingly, now slapping his stereo in an attempt to get the tape deck to stay closed. He was a firm believer in if you smacked technology around a little and showed it who’s boss then it would work. “Babe, you’re objectifying me while I’m trying to set a romantic mood, all for you.” He shot you an exaggerated pinch glare over his shoulder.

In reality, he really liked when you ogled him and made him feel hot. “This is a small bathroom and your ass is right at my eye level. Get over it, dude.” You smirked, sinking back into the warm water.

“-I bet you say that to all the boys,” purred the voice from the stereo. Damn, Eddie knew how to set a weird, but really good mood. Meat Loaf wasn’t exactly his usual music choice, but he knew you loved a good ballad.

“Hey hey! See? A few loving taps and viola, she sings.” Eddie grinned, turning to you with a flourish of his arms, “kinda like you.” He sniggered as you splashed some water at him.

“Hurry up and get “the goods” in the water. I’ll give you a head massage.” You sighed, letting your body sink back into the water.

Eddie laughed again, softly, and dipped his foot in the water - testing the temperature so it wouldn’t burn his balls. He slowly sank down, the warm water being a stark contrast to the chilly trailer outside the bathroom.

“By all means, take your time there.” You chirped, forming a bubble beard while you watched him. Eddie was so pretty in the steamy, honey light. A small sheen of sweat painted his chest, and he couldn’t hold back a giggle when he saw your foamy facial hair.

“Once I’m balls deep, I’ll be all good. Don’t rush me.”

You snorted, “not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Give me like… ten minutes and you might be so lucky, sweetheart.” Eddie winked, finally sitting down fully in the bath with a deep, satisfied groan. The sound shooting down your spine and fuelling the budding ache between your thighs. “I’m a fucking genius for this idea. God.” Another groan faded into a purr.

“You’ve really outdone yourself. Using my work present for your benefit. What a gentleman.” You sniggered, hiding behind the suds when he lightly kicked your leg.

“Let me soak in peace, woman.” He grumbled, trying to hide his sleepy smile and failing.

You watched Eddie quietly and full of adoration. His eyes were closed and his face had relaxed significantly, any harsh lines or fatigue melted away with the steam from the bath. Eddie allowed himself to slide fully into the water, soaking his wild curls and pushing his bangs out of his face. He started working his calloused fingertips into his scalp. You watched, unblinking, as his large brown eyes rolled back into his skull and he sighed.

Eddie had said he needed ten minutes but you weren’t going to be able to wait that long.

You wiped away your soap beard. As much as Eddie adored you being a goof with him, you knew when it was time to get serious. Both of you knew where the night was heading, so you may as well speed things up a little. The cosy air and the melodic cries of Meat Loaf were perfect.

“Eds? C’mere. Said I’d give you a head massage, and I’m a lady of my word.” You stated, giggling as he quickly started to twist himself around, making the porcelain squeak.

Eddie situated himself between your legs and rested his wet hair on your chest. The bastard even started twiddling his thumbs while he waited for you to start, “I’m ready when you are.” He shot you a bright, toothy smile, swaying a little to really drive home his oh-so-innocent intentions. Eddie was always such a tease.

You gathered some of the vanilla and peppermint-scented foam and started lightly massaging Eddie’s scalp. Your blunt fingernails slightly scratched him as an added luxury, but mostly because you wanted to make him feel extra special. Eddie’s hair was such an integral part of him. Not only was it for his own self-expression, but he fucking loved when you played with it and pulled it just enough that a shot of pain coursed through him.

“That good?” You whispered, one of your hands wandering down his chest to caress his spider and demon head tattoos. The spider was your favourite. One time when he had picked up from a party after getting too drunk, you’d named it Edith, and kissed her goodnight. Eddie had damn near melted under you when you did that. You were just too sweet to him sometimes.

“I’d even go as far to say it’s nice.” Eddie breathed. The feeling of you rubbing his hair and scalp was the greatest high he could ever experience.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pretending to be annoyed. “Change your tune and I’ll keep this hand going lower?” You breathed into his ear, your wandering hand now grazing the wispy dark hair on his belly.

“See, I don’t think you’re gonna stop either way.” Eddie groaned. He started nuzzling his head against your tits, leaving a few small pecks between them. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later.” He sang.

“Aw, aren’t you just my best guy.”

“Would hope that I’m your only guy - oh f-fuck.”

You finally traced your hand down Eddie’s thick cock. He twitched under your touch, your pruned fingertips dancing along the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft. Eddie’s pleased whining and soft panting showed you that he wanted you to wrap a hand around him and drive him crazy. But your goal was lower.

Your warm hand caressed and massaged his balls as he let out a surprised moan. “God. Harder.”

The pressure of your hand increased as you rolled his heavy sack in your hand. “You’ve been saving these for me, haven’t you?” you purred, Eddie having shifted to starting mouthing at your hard nipples. “Neglecting your balls when you're jerking off because they’re all for me, yeah?”

“They need a woman’s touch, what can I say - shit, yeah, don’t stop.” Eddie groaned, almost shouting. Your hand that had been massaging his scalp was now slowly pumping at his cock. All teasing, soft touches - you knew it wasn’t enough for him. Eddie liked to be handled with an intimate roughness that only you could give him.

Eddie’s large hands were moving everywhere. Massaging your legs, squeezing your arms and running up your neck blindly. The distinct warmth and softness of your body were addictive to him. You were the first person to let him touch you everywhere - no grimacing, no catch. Just encouragement and admiration. Said admiration came in the form of a low moan when Eddie’s fingers caught on a piece of your hair and tugged.

“Babe, babe. We gotta stop or I’ll blow my load too fast.” Eddie huffed, pushing himself up and back to his original position across from you. He held out his arms wide, gesturing excitedly for you to come to him.

You really loved how excited he still got when it came to you. In any scenario, he was always happy that it was you.

Eddie grabbed your ass as you straddled him. Reaching up to bring you into a hungry, wet kiss. His mouth was restless. Lightly chapped lips pressed to yours, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, tongue massaging yours just enough to drive you crazy - he always drove you crazy.

The flushed, hard head of Eddie’s cock rubbed against your clit as your hips wiggled in his lap. “Fu-fuck yes.” Eddie groaned, pulling you down on him more. Your warm-up was one of his favourite parts. “You want your cock? You gotta wait, sweetheart. I’ve barely gotten my hands on you yet.”

You whimpered, hips still grinding with more impatience. “But you're all wet and warm.”

“And now I’ve got to get you like that,” Eddie chuckled with a smirk. “Do me a favour. Get some of the bubbles and play with your pretty tits for me?”

“You just wanna see soapy boobs.” You quipped, already gathering large handfuls of foam in your palms. The mint and vanilla scent had weakened, but it was still comforting.

“I do. Now, get to it.”

Eddie had moved one of his rough hands down to your aching cunt. Pinching your clit between two fingers, and rubbing it with his thumb.

God, yes. You could feel yourself becoming slick under Eddie’s touch. Your clit slipped under his calloused thumb as your wet hard nipples rolled between your fingers. Both of you released any and all noises that felt right. The needy moans and heavy pants harmonised with the lapping of the bath water. Eddie loved watching you play with your tits for him, applying just the right amount of grip to the soft mounds to make you whimper and hiss.

Such pretty, sensitive tits were a heaven he wasn’t sure he deserved, so he was going to make sure they were looked after.

“Someone’s having fun,” Eddie chirped, picking up the pace of his massage to your clit. God, he was evil. How were you going to hold a conversation under this level of pleasure?

“Woman’s touch, right?” You moaned and ground harder onto his hand, catching the hot tip of his cock at the entrance of your weepy cunt. Eddie whimpered and his smirk melted into a delirious smile.

The grinding, the moaning and the messy kissing continued for some time. Both of you basked in the intimate little world you had created in the steamy, trailer bathroom. There was nothing but time for relaxation and ecstasy - the night was still young and outside was just so cold, it was too horrible to think about.

Eddie had started to angle his hips and yours so that the head of his swollen cock prodded your hole. When your movements synced up perfectly, his tip slipped into you - providing a delicious tease.

Large hands were now groping and spreading your ass cheeks. The occasional short, sharp slap joined in. “Can I fuck you? Please. I know we got time, but I need it.” Eddie panted, his eyes laser-focused on your soapy tits that were in his eye line. “Promise you won’t be walking for the rest of the night. Fuck, rest of the weekend if you let me.”

Now that was a tempting offer. “If you get to be inside my pussy now, then you won’t be leaving any time soon.” You smirked, playing with his soaking hair and twirling it around your fingers.

Eddie didn’t respond to you. He lifted your hips up, thumbs massaging your love handles and slammed you back down onto his cock. Your gasp fizzled into mewling as Eddie started moving to grind into your sweet spot. He really wasted no time when it came to making you feel incredible.

“Aw, there she is.” He teased, one hand running up your back to tangle in your hair. “You were getting a little mouthy there. But I’m gonna help you turn that brain off, isn’t that right?”

“Mhmm, please.” The sensations coursing through your sweating body were exactly what you needed. Big hands tugging lightly on your wet hair, Eddie’s fat cock fucking into your g-spot and his growling breath tickling your chest. You needed to stop thinking for at least a little while. You needed Eddie.

Eddie needed you - maybe even a bit more than air at that moment. The embrace of your hot, spongey walls always had him reeling. You allowed him to see you in a vulnerable light, and he did the same. It was like a small weight off his shoulders that he hadn’t fully noticed was there.

“This pussy - my pussy. F-fucking god. Lean back for me, I wanna see you, pretty girl.” Eddie had started to work you on his cock, thrusting slowly and so deep into your cunt.

You gripped the rim of the bathtub and leaned back, an amazing tension forming in your thighs. “Want - sh-shit - more, Eds.”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll give you everything, baby.” A thumb started flicking your puffy clit again and Eddie grinned up at you. “Uh-huh? Taking such a big cock so well, like a good girl.” Christ, he was almost too good at speaking absolute filth.

“Can - can you cum in me? Please. Please, oh my fucking god.”

The entire image of you on top of him set his blood on fire. Tousled, wet hair. Soap-dripping tits. Heavy-lidded eyes trained on where he was fucking you down onto his cock. You sparked something almost animalistic in him, and now you wanted him to empty his balls inside your cunt.

Huff. Huff. Groan. Eddie couldn’t find the words to respond to you. So, he fucked you harder, causing desperate pleasure to pulse through both of you. He tugged your head back and began sucking along the column of your throat.

“Gonna fill up my gorgeous girl. God, your pussy’s gonna be so fucking messy.” Eddie was essentially delirious by that point. The only thoughts in his head were fucking you, cumming in you and suggesting that bath sex became a regular thing. The vanilla-scented stuff had you smelling like some fancy dessert, the poor guy was losing his mind.

You wanted to be messy. Eddie was pounding into you so well that your mind was calm and blank. The bathroom could be swimming with sudsy water and you wouldn’t even know.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” you squealed. “Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie. You need it too. Uh-huh?”

“That’s right, babe. Always so smart for me.” His voice sounded far away, but in the best way possible. Eddie had a single goal in his sight and the tightness in his balls felt so fucking amazing.

The way you begged always short-circuited Eddie’s brain. You were so lovely, so amazing. Hearing you say his name in your hoarse, needy tone made his cock twitch violently.

Your cunt clung to his thick cock, trying to milk him dry and chase your own orgasm. Your release washed over you in a pulse of heat and electricity - momentarily making your body go limp from the euphoria. It didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until Eddie did. His cock was splitting you open roughly as he used your sopping hole to cum inside.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned, his jaw hanging slack. “Can you say my name, babe? Tell me who’s gonna fill you up.”

“Eddie - you, Eds.” A fucked out whimper is all you could manage. But it worked just as well, if not better.

Eddie came deep inside your slick cunt with a deep scream and a slurred string of curse words. Panting and water lapping were suddenly the only sounds in the green-tiled room. It was a sticky but not unpleasant atmosphere. You loved it.

You had collapsed onto Eddie’s chest as he ran a weak hand through your hair. “I feel all tingly.” You sighed.

“Like good or bad? Swear my jizz isn’t radioactive or anything.” Eddie snorted, his voice sounding sleepy. Christ, he was almost too warm, but like hell was he moving from his current position.

“I meant good tingly, like romantic tingly. Way to ruin the post-sex mood.” You huffed, flicking one of his nipples until he let out a little shriek.

“Okay, okay, easy there.” Eddie splashed some water up into your face. He was lucky he was so cute. “That was an incredibly romantic start to the night, in my humble opinion.”

You hummed in agreement as you lifted yourself off of Eddie’s softened cock, settling back to straddling his thighs. Bath or not, you were getting your post-sex cuddles.

“Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie.” Eddie whined, mimicking your high-pitched moans as best he could. As much as you hated when he teased you like that, the impression was actually pretty solid. “That’s what you said. That’s love right there.”

“And I was being entirely honest.” You replied. “Bear my horny little soul to you and look where it gets me? Bullied.” The next few seconds moved by quickly. One second, Eddie was fixing you with an eye roll, and the next he was pouring foamy water over your head. “Dick!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll blow dry your hair before round 2.” Eddie grinned, moving close to you and pressing a kiss to your now dripping face.

“I want some of that conditioner stuff you use in your hair too.” Demands would have to be made as a form of repayment after your boyfriend tried to waterboard you. “The one that smells like coconuts.”

“I’ll braid your hair too, how does that sound?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie Munson smut #eddie Munson #smut #fluff #fic #eddie #stranger things #my writing

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 3 months

Text

Avisos cuddle pile

Idea given to me by my wonderful mutual @katy-the-same-as-tsuki, go check her art out, she's amazing.

You were out in Avisos, Bael having ordered that Naberius, Stolas and Amon show you around the country. Compered to Gehenna's cozy atmosphere, Tartaros' opulence or Hades' beauty, Avisos was a lot louder, more visually stimulating than anything you've seen in hell so far. It was as if every building was begging you to pay attention to it.

The three demons you were with were bickering constantly, for God knows what dump reason. They would try to drag you in different directions since they each wanted to show you their favorite part of the country.

Stolas: "We should visit the bird caffee! You love birds, don't you, Mc?"

Naberius: "You only want to go to the bird caffee because you like it. Mc is clearly an intelectual and is more interested in learning about the culture of Hell. We should go to the National Museum of Avisos."

Amon: "I think we should go to that restaurant that serves his majesty Beelzebub's semen, I'm kind of hungry."

Naberius: "Kind of hungry? You haven't eaten in months! I'm surprised you're still standing."

You were starting to get bored of hearing them constantly arguing, so, after circling the same 5 buildings because none of them were paying attention to where they were going, you decide to speak up.

Mc: "I know where I want to go."

All of them at once: "Where?"

Mc: "The castle. I want to go take a nap in the castle."

Stolas and Naberius looked shocked but Amon cheered.

Amon: "I like the way you think."

Stolas: "But we have so many places to visit"

Amon: "You heard them. To bed we go!"

Amon picks you up and rushes you to the castle. He was surprisingly fast and strong for someone that always complains about being hungry. Naberius and Stolas turn into their animal forms to chase after Amon.

Bael was on the phone trying to stop 5 different financial crisises at once. Someone from Hades died in Avisos while in a shop run by someone from Paradise Lost, but the guy from Paradise Lost wasn't affiliated with Avisos, but he was doing business there so now it's a logistical nightmare as to who is trully resposible for the death. Bael groaned as he hit his head to the table.

Bael: "Bell, when I catch you, Bell-"

He's inturupted by his three headaches nobles exquarting the guest of honor, the child of Solomon themselves. Bael wanted to make a good impression in front of you since you could help him with some of the external conflicts (and totally not because he has a crush on you).

Bael tried to put on his most charming smile in front of you, but everyone in the room just looks at him with shock, disgust and concern.

Naberius: "Bael... are you alright?"

Stolas: "Did you eat what you cooked again?"

Amon: "I think his fake majesty passed away and this is his mummified corpse. I heard some demons do that after death."

Amon was getting ready to open the flash on his phone as a way of simulating the lighting of a candle for a dead one, but Bael whipped the phone out of the younger demon's hand.

Bael: "I am not dead. Ugh, how was your outing together? You got back quite shortly. Has anything caught your interest, Mc?"

Mc: "Yes, actually."

You grab Bael by the wrist and drag him from his chair.

Bael: "What do you think you're doing, child of Solomon? I have very important matters to attend to."

Mc: "You need sleep. Think of it this way, if you die of exhaustion, who's going to run the country?"

Bael couldn't argue with your logic even though he wanted to. He just let himself be guided outside the office. The three other nobles followed you to the castle's garden, where you layed with Bael. The three looked at you confused before understanding what your plan was.

Naberius transformed into his Cerberus form and curled up around you and Bael, Stolas nestled on your lap and Amon spooned you from behind while you hugged Bael.

Bael: "This is very sweet of you, but I have a job to do and there's a lot of tension between-"

Mc: "Sleep."

Bael finally gave in and stopped struggling, giving in to his exhaustion. Hearing his soft snors as he nuzzled to your chest and Naberius' fur almost made you want to record it as a souvenir from Avisos. No shop could sell the serenity you felt right now.

When everyone fell asleep, a sole fly landed on your arm. At least in spirit, all of Avisos was here.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb bael #whb amon #whb naberius #whb stolas #whb avisos

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 5 months

Note

Did you ever hear of Callmethelamp? He owns venomous snakes, like a Gaboon Viper and Boomslang. What do you think of his videos?

Not a fan!

Now, my opinion is that owning snakes with medically significant venom as a private keeper is always unethical. I think it's just irresponsible, even if you know what you're doing (although the people who really know what they're doing will also never own them, so...). Securely housing and providing maintenance for venomous snakes is difficult, and finding veterinary care is even harder. Private keepers who own hot snakes often wind up neglecting them simply because they don't have the knowledge to safely perform regular maintenance (even as simple as changing water bowls), so the snake's needs aren't met as a result.

This guy has so many venomous snakes, I can say with 100% certainty they are not being cared for appropriately. I do a lot of work with a venom lab; taking dozens of venomous snakes to the vet in a day is a logistical nightmare. I am not exagerrating when I say there is literally no way a private keeper could do it. Many vets who will work with venomous snakes and have the experience to do so (which is not a big number to begin with) only work with licensed facilities. If you cannot provide an animal with veterinary care, including regular checkups, then it is unethical to own that animal. Full stop.

I also think his videos are incredibly irresponsible for showcasing private keeping of venomous snakes on the Internet the way he does. A good chunk of snakes at my venom lab came to us from private keepers who thought it would be cool to own them and then surrendered them to a zoo or wildlife center after they had a near-miss with a bite. Not everyone is that lucky. It's wildly irresponsible to act like it's appropriate to keep venomous snakes in your house.

#reptile youtubers #venomous snakes

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buckets-and-trees · 9 months

Text

Do You Remember

Fandom: MCU Title: Do You Remember Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader Word Count: 460

Summary: You belong to him.

Content Warnings: monster fucking, vaginal sex

Logistical Notes: For the @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off event. Using lyrics from the song "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire for some of the thematic elements (bolded).

Additional Notes: Follow up to Sacrificial but just a moody smutty drabble that can be read without context.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

As tangible as your surroundings were – the dirt, the lush green jungle, the sounds of exotic birds whose song was now so familiar – the situation hardly seemed real, and your brain didn’t know what to make of your waking state. Dream or nightmare?

Many mornings you woke from golden dreams that bled into shiny days.

Some mornings you awoke troubled, and he was always too perceptive and knew. And he didn’t let you stay troubled if he could help it.

He was very clear that he wanted you happy and content. How could you not be? This is still what you wanted, what you signed up for. What did you lack? Nothing. Your contract was essentially being fulfilled. You had pledged to three years of research. You wanted for nothing in your lab for research. You had known it would be remote, had agreed to being cut off from the rest of the world due to your remote location in the Amazon.

That you were his and that it was clear you were not to leave – would never be able to leave, why would you want to leave, little lamb? – was not part of the agreement.

And when it was like this, your clothes torn off to the side, with your fingers digging into the dirt beneath your palms, on hands and knees, with his hulking form kneeling over you, his bare chest pressing against your naked back, and his thick cock pressing into your stretched and slick canal, your hips pressed back against him, it was hard to remember why you would want to leave.

“Yes, lamb, it doesn’t hurt, does it? You take my cock so beautifully now, make such pretty noises, and I can have you anywhere. Your body is so willing to take me. You were that first day, and you have been every day since.”

You whimpered helplessly. He was right.

As terrified as you had been when the figure of the minotaur had appeared to claim you as the village’s sacrifice, you had also easily become his. Your body craved him now.

It doesn’t matter that you’re naked being fucked by this half-man, half-beast in the rain forest. No one will find you. You’re certain of that.

One of his rough hands came to your chest and he groped your left breast before tweaking the nipple painfully. “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” you yipped. He knew how to ply your body and make you desperate for him, and that was more dangerous than his mere existence as the beast that he was.

Body trembling beneath him as he railed you in a state of nearly mindless pleasure, you couldn’t remember if you wanted this or not. Do you remember anything before this? Before him? Before this September? Was there anything before him? He’s giving you nearly everything. Do you remember? What else would there be to remember in comparison to this?

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Commentary/additional pieces on the Minotaur!Bucky saga:

"haunting thoughts" on THIS PIECE for the Dark Forest Fest

"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest

brief insight into what reader's life is like now

physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky

easy and challenging parts of writing the fic

the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #minotaur x reader #minotaur au #terato #aspen wrote something #bnsummersendoff #female reader

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imaginespazzi · 3 months

Text

Part 4: The Art of Letting Go

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Only know you love her when (she lets you) go

(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort

Words: 7.9K

TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3

December 2023

A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream.

She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching.

And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours.

It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever.

It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.

“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor.

“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”

“Zoe-”

“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”

Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face.

“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”

“Please-”

“Z-”

“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears.

“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully.

It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could.

“This isn’t about-”

Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.

“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore.

Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs, “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”

“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”

Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door.

“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”

***

She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend.

It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again.

The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-

“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them.

“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up.

“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be.

“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively.

Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”

Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel.

“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”

Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision.

She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes.

“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend.

“I think she crashed-”

“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe.

“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”

“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy.

“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”

No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay.

“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”

Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”

“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”

Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash.

“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t.

“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”

“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”

Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her.

“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up.

“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears.

“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart.

***

74 missed calls from Paige

did u go to the hospital

pick up ur fucking phone

dude

azzi

this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit

PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE

AZZI

just say ur ok at least

please

called ur mom

said u had a concussion and some bruising

thats not too bad

ur so fucking stupid

it could be so much worse

please pick up

AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE

so u can call carol and not me ok

thats just fucking perfect

dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights

so maybe just pick up

or call me back

u wanna play this stupid game fine

ignore me for now

but i’mma be in dc for christmas

ur gonna have to talk to me

i know where u live

***

The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life.

It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms.

“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red.

Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”

Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”

“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable.

The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare.

“What?”

“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb.

“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”

“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”

“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige.

“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”

“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”

Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway.

“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”

“Well isn’t it?”

“Of course n-”

“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige? If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”

Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”

“Azzi c’mon-”

“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”

Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”

“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”

“I don’t-”

“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”

When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her.

“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”

“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity.

“Had.”

“What?”

Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”

“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation.

“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”

“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”

The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again.

“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word.

“That’s not fair. I was really fucking hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.

“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”

“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is.

“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”

It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start.

“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage.

“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”

Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping.

“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”

Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-

“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”

Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes.

The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks.

“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset.

Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means.

“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”

“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”

“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better.

“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”

Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”

“Well tough luck because I do.”

“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her.

“Goodbye Paige.”

***

December 2024

azzi please just let me in

ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me

and i get it

but i can fix this i swear

i know u know im here

please fucking let me in

i fucked up

i know

im so fucking sorry

but dude we can fix this

just

can u just fucking let me in

i really wanna see u

i really wanna talk

can we just fucking talk

please

merry christmas az

u know what fuck u actually

didnt mean that sorry

i was just mad

u make me really fucking mad

christmas breaks almost over

i have to go back soon and ik u do too

we should talk before that

ur so fucking stubborn

but so am i

im not giving up

i won’t

January 2024

i miss you

ur really fucking annoying

not texting me back

but its fine

i’ll just fucking spam

i had an ok day today

practice was kinda ass

not me tho

i was great

as always

bet i made more threes than you did

bro im watching ur game

and

what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up

get in the gym az jfc

oh that was a good pullup

not better than mine

but decent

been a fucking month azzi

just fucking call me back

or text me idk

i miss u

sooooooooooo

hows ur day

good? good.

hows mine?

oh kinda shit

lets see

we lost in front of all these uconn legends

to their fucking rival

everyones saying uconn fucking sucks

some people are saying i suck

they might not be completely wrong

now would be a good time to reply az

like maybe make me feel better

fuck u actually

what the fuck am i doing

idk if u even read these

February 2024

idk maybe i should stop

like maybe only fucking psychos do this

but idk bro

i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually

well sc was a shit show

i mean we knew it but holy shit

i really wanna talk to you about it

it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling

and u giggling

fuck i miss ur laugh

i miss you

idk if u just ignore these

so idk if ur gonna even see this

but

i wanted to tell you first

before u saw it from somewhere else

im staying at uconn

u were right

i didnt want to leave yet

i want my 4 years

but

just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said

that i dont wanna be in la with u

i do

its not about that

i just need to do whats best for me

and thats staying here

fuck

i get what u meant now

u didnt pick ucla over me

fuck fuck fuck

im sorry az

is this how u felt

when i didn’t text u back

because it’s actually fucking hell

i miss you so fucking much dude

i’m so sorry

i’m really fucking sorry azzi

for all of it

please just call me back

March 2024

last pac-12 tournament mvp!!

dude i’m so proud of you

we also won

idk if u heard

it wasnt easy either

everything just always fucking goes wrong

fucking pisses me off

but oh well

u know i dont even like texting

idk how many messages ive sent u

its gotta be hundreds atp

insane shit on my part

tf is wrong with me

did u see the bracket

see u in the final 4 azzi

April 2024

i fucking told u

i told you id see u in the final four

fucking meant it

fuck

gonna kick yalls ass

revenge szn

we’re built different in march

cleveland here we fucking go

but also

cant avoid me anymore

i cant fucking wait to see you az

***

UConn 87 UCLA 84

There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi.

“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball.

When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again.

The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands.

The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way.

But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige.

The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place.

“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out.

The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”

***

When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too.

“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard.

“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”

“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it.

“I-uh-”

“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”

Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over.

“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”

“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity.

Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them.

“Hi,” Paige says softly.

Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”

“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”

“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”

Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down.

“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly.

“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”

“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”

“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’

“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters.

“Paige please.”

“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”

Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again.

“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs.

Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her.

“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten.

“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”

Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing.

Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”

They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling.

“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her.

“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”

Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper.

“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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reality-detective · 3 months

Text

Was the Baltimore Bridge attacked? 👇

The Baltimore bridge collapse was an “absolutely brilliant strategic attack” on US critical infrastructure - most likely cyber - & our intel agencies know it. In information warfare terms, they just divided the US along the Mason Dixon line exactly like the Civil War.

Second busiest strategic roadway in the nation for hazardous material now down for 4-5 years - which is how long they say it will take to recover. The bridge was built specifically to move hazardous material - fuel, diesel, propane gas, nitrogen, highly flammable materials, chemicals and oversized cargo that cannot fit in the tunnels - that supply chain now crippled.

Make no mistake: this was an extraordinary attack in terms of planning, timing & execution.

The two critical components on that bridge are the two load-bearing pylons on each end, closest to the shore. They are bigger, thicker and deeper than anything else. These are the anchor points and they knew that hitting either one one of them would be a fatal wound to the integrity of the bridge.

Half a mile of bridge went in the river - likely you will have to build a new one. Also caused so much damage to the structural integrity of the bottom concrete part that you cannot see & won’t know until they take the wreckage apart. Structural destruction is likely absolutely.

Attack perfectly targeted.

“They have figured out how to bring us down. As long as you stay away from the teeth of the US military, you can pick the US apart. We are an arrogant and ignorantly - lethal combination. Obama said they would fundamentally change America and they did. We are in a free-fall ride on a roller coaster right now - no brakes - just picking up speed.”

The footage shows the cargo ship never got in the approach lane in the channel. You have to be in the channel before you get into that turn. Location was precise/deliberate: They chose a bend in the river where you have to slow down and commit yourself - once you are committed in that area there is not enough room to maneuver.

Should have had a harbor pilot to pilot the boat. You are not supposed to traverse any obstacles without the harbor pilot.

They chose a full moon so they would have maximum tidal shift - rise and fall. Brisk flow in that river on a normal day & have had a lot of rain recently so water was already moving along at a good pace.

Hit it with enough kinetic energy to knock the load-bearing pylon out from under the highway - which fatally weakens the span and then 50 percent of the bridge fell into the water.

All these factors when you look at it - this is how you teach people how to do this type of attack and there are so few people left in the system who know this. We have a Junior varsity team on the field.

Tremendous navigational obstruction. Huge logistical nightmare to clean this up. The number of dead is tragic but not the whole measure of the attack.

That kind of bridge is constantly under repair - always at night because there is so much traffic and they cannot obstruct that during the day. So concern is for repair guys who were on foot (out of their vehicles) working who may now be in the water - 48 degrees at most at this time of year.

When you choke off Baltimore you have cut the main north-south hazardous corridor (I-95) in half. Now everyone has to go around the city - or go somewhere else.

To move some of that cargo through the tunnel you may be able to get a permit but those are slow to get and require an escort system that is expensive and has to be done at night.

For every $100 dollars that goes into the city, $12 comes from shipping. Believe this will cripple the city of Baltimore at a time when they do not have the resources to recover.

- Lara Logan

The traffic issue was mentioned in this 👇 post

Maybe we have to dig deeper into this Bridge collapse further. Could it be a deeper issue? What's in those shipping containers? Who owns the ship?

Is it for this 👆

It has been 3 years and 3 days since the Evergreen blocked the Suez Canal. Does the number 33 mean anything?

Was this a "Black Swan Event?"

I'm just asking questions? 🤔

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 9 months

Text

What a bore

AN: Beginning the birthday festivities with ChanCheol. I had a more ambitious birthday fic in mind but, figuring out the logistics of sex with six men was a nightmare lol so, I settled on the top two for this year. Maybe I'll tackle the whole line next year.

Synopsis: Your coworkers are mostly palatable people, really, they are. Except for Yoon Jeonghan, who has quickly become the bane of your existence in the months since you've transferred. He thinks you don't do anything beyond work and stay in your apartment, and he has no problem telling you that. You're more than happy to prove him wrong with the help of your willing coworkers: Seungcheol and Chan.

General tags and warnings: Choi Seungcheol x Fem! Reader x Lee Chan, Non-Idol AU, coworkers to coworkers who fuck, they all work within a company with a pretty prominent drinking culture so, alcohol and alcohol consumption and Jeonghan is an asshole in this (there are elements of peer pressure and he's pretty passive-aggressive but, he does get somewhat better).

Smut tags: petnames, not exactly sex in an elevator, but there are moments of Chan and Reader getting hot and heavy in an elevator, they all have sex after drinking (no one is drunk, and everything is consensual), dirty talk, possessiveness if you squint, praise, nipple play (f. receiving), strength kink if you squint, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), overstimulation (f. receiving), Seungcheol licks Chan's fingers, piv sex without a condom, hair pulling, mild degradation, objectification if you squint, creampies, manhandling and aftercare.

Word count: 12.3K (*clown noises*)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Thursdays, typically, are days you don't care for. They're a stepping stone to the true hero of the week: Fridays. However, at Martinz, you've come to learn over the course of your past two months here, Thursdays were the best day of the week. It's in the way everyone glances at the clock, waiting for 17:00 to roll around. Almost everyone in the office practically jumping out of their poorly supported chairs as soon as the clock strikes. Hurriedly tugging on their jackets and making their way Jun's for drinks on the company's dime.

You've opted out since you've started here. Not really seeing the appeal in getting drunk with your coworkers when you still need to report for work the next morning. Especially knowing you don't exactly have the same tolerance you did when you were much, much younger. You're more than content to spend your Thursday nights bundled under your favourite blanket and catching up on your shows for the week.

Seungcheol, Chan and Jeonghan always extend an invitation without fail. Two sets of pleading eyes begging you to join them for the night while one is knowing but, he extends an invitation along with your other two coworkers nonetheless. You always decline. Appreciating their desire to include you but, you've never really been the type to interact with the people you work with more than necessary. It's how you operated at all of your previous jobs so, you don't see why anything would be any different here.

Seungcheol and Chan are understanding. To the point where guilt does twist up your insides a little but, their megawatt smiles help assuage any of it. Jeonghan, however, is not one to let things go easily as you've come to learn.

"Oh, going straight home again?" He asks while the four of you pack away your items for the night, his eyebrow raised as he observes you over the wooden dividers between your desks. Frankly, they should be higher in your opinion. You enjoyed the sight of the stunning man when you first started but, now his smug face and permanently raised eyebrow grate your nerves in a way that would be impressive if he wasn't so aggravating.

"Jeonghan," Seungcheol interjects, shooting you an apologetic look on the other man's behalf. Sometimes, you don't understand how someone as kind as Seungcheol can put up with him but, the two men are practically two peas in a pod. From your peripheral, you can see Chan shuffle uncomfortably in his seat. Not that you blame him. This is why you try to not interact with Jeonghan more than strictly necessary. The tension grows to uncomfortable levels even for you sometimes but, you have always been stubborn, as your best friend, Seungkwan, is fond of reminding you.

"What?" Jeonghan asks Seungcheol in a way that masquerades as innocent, "I'm merely making polite conversation with our colleague. That's all," he finishes, shooting you a look as though he's seriously waiting for you to answer his question when all four of you can likely recite your answer by heart by now.

"Yes, Jeonghan. I'm going home," you grit out, your fingernails digging into the faux leather material of your bag. Your jaw only clenching further when a grin speards across his face. It's all venom and, all three of you seem to brace yourselves for the words that leave his mouth next,

"Oh, of course. I suppose I should expect that from you. You are the more reserved type, after all."

You'll never admit it but, those words echo throughout your head all the way to your apartment. They remain in your mind and play on repeat while you change into your pajamas, order dinner for yourself and settle onto your couch. They continue to haunt you even during your attempt to distract yourself with trash reality television. You know yourself. You have no issues with the person you are. You're not going to let some asshole who hasn't even known you for three months rattle your self-image. You know how to have fun and enjoy yourself. That part of yourself just isn't any of your coworkers' business. Separating work and fun is a philosophy that has saved you from many headaches and much drama over the years. Jeonghan doesn't know shit.

Even with those assertions, it's difficult to forget his words for longer than you care to admit.

Thursday rolls around once more. You can already feel the migraine building behind your eyes when Jeonghan looks at you. Seungcheol and Chan, for their parts, choose to focus on their computers. You know they aren't actually working on any sales. They both have the subtlety of an elephant hiding behind a telephone pole. You do understand their lack of willingness to involve themselves unless Jeonghan pushes too far. Which you don't think will take him all that long.

"So, will you be joining us tonight?" He asks with that knowing smirk you want to wipe off of his face. His face resting in his hand while he waits for you to answer.

"Jeongha-"

"Don't you have work to do, Jeonghan? Is all you think about going out for drinks?" You ask with a faux curious tilt of your head, the saccharine tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by the three men. Seungcheol looks surprised that you not only cut him off from pulling the other man back in line but, that you responded to him at all. You suppose you've finally had enough. Being the bigger person gets exhausting very, very quickly.

Jeonghan looks intrigued by your response. Opting to bite, he says, "I finished my work over an hour ago. Plus, it's almost time to close up for the day anyways. I simply know how to balance work and enjoying myself. Perhaps you should take some notes out of my book," he finishes with a glint in his eyes.

What a fucking dick.

"You know what? Yes, I will be joining everyone for drinks tonight. I think I've earned it after how grating this week has been," you respond and maybe you feel too smug for your own good that surprise colours his face for a moment. However, Jeonghan being Jeonghan, it disappears nearly as quickly as it morphed onto his face.

"Hey, you know you don't have to come. Jeonghan's just being a dick," Chan chimes in, shooting you a reassuring look. Jeonghan pouts dramatically at being referred to as a dick but, he doesn't refute Chan's assertion. Given how he's treated you, he seems to have the self-awareness to know better.

"Yeah, we know not it's not for everyone. Hell, Jihoon maybe comes out like three times a year and, one of those is for his birthday," Seungcheol adds, big, warm, brown eyes looking at you softly. His full lips spreading in a smile that's meant to soothe the tension in the air. You appreciate the two of them. Honestly, they've been far kinder than you than you probably deserve but, this isn't about them right now.

"No, I want to. Don't worry. I'm curious to see what the excitement is about since Jeonghan can never quite stop talking about it," you respond with a miniscule upturn of your own lips. It's not much but, you hope it's enough to ease any concerns the two men have. They exchange a glance with each other while Jeonghan smiles with far too many teeth and his head resting in his hand,

"This'll be interesting."

Anxiety simmers in your bloodstream as you join your hoard of coworkers at Jun's. It's not a massive bar by any means but, you think you understand why it's become the go-to spot rather than anywhere else around your offices as soon as you step through the door. The atmosphere instantly feels welcoming, a stunning, giant of a man who you learn is named Mingyu greeting you all as you flow through the entrance. The booths and tables are quickly filled by the people from your office and, you scan the area looking for a place to sit that isn't outside or close to the bathrooms.

"Come on," Seungcheol says with a gentle nudge to your shoulder, the smile he gives you under the lowlighting of the bar heats your system in a way you think would be unwise to dissect right now, "We usually sit in booth number 8. We kind of have unofficial dibs on it," he says with a chuckle and you see Chan nod in agreement. Jeonghan doesn't say much, much to your surprise, as the four of you settle yourself into your seats.

Chan sits beside you while Seungcheol and Jeonghan opt to sit next to each other and across from the two of you. Shrugging off your coat, you briefly wonder if it would've caused you less of a headache to sit next to Jeonghan instead of looking at him for the entire night but, Chan's presence next to you is more than welcome. Plus, you can just look at Seungcheol instead, which isn't a terrible alternative. Not in the slightest.

"So, what would you guys recommend?" You ask in an attempt to crawl out of the shell you've crafted for yourself. You may have come out tonight mostly to spite your dick of a coworker but, you aren't opposed to having a decent time with your other coworkers. Plus, free alcohol and food are offers you know better than to say no to. Your parents would be disappointed in you otherwise.

"The soju here is really good," Seungcheol pipes up, glancing up at you over his menu. "The beer's great too," Chan says with a smile that disarms you a little seeing it so up close. Heat rushes to your face and you hide your face in your own menu, pretending to scan the items while you use the time to calm yourself down a little. Really? Getting flustered just because you're with your, admittedly, good-looking coworkers outside of work? Good lord. Get a grip.

"I'm going to be honest, I think beer is kinda gross," you say sheepishly and you nearly laugh at the affronted looks on both Seungcheol and Chan's faces. Hell, even Jeonghan cracks a smile that you'd consider a smidge genuine.

"Beer isn't gross," the older man protests with a pout that you're not used to seeing on his handsome face. It suits him. You wonder if you'd see it more if you came out with them. Maybe it makes itself known more outside of the confines of the office.

"Yeah, you've probably just had shitty beer," Chan argues with a nod so assertive you're a little worried he might hit his head hard on the back of the seat in your booth. You giggle at the two men nonetheless. Clearly your coworkers are avid beer drinkers and defenders.

"Or, consider, that beer just sucks," you argue with a smile and you have to bite back a laugh at the sincerely affronted looks the two men send your way, "Soju is okay. It's a little too bitter for my liking but, I don't mind it. But hey, why are you guys drinking soju on a Thursday?"

"Maybe because we're not killjoys and we can handle our alcohol," Jeonghan finally pipes up. You knew it was too good to be true. You knew you couldn't just have a decent night out with this man in your presence. The somewhat pleasant atmosphere that the three of you have managed to create is completely evaporated by Jeonghan's commentary and, you wonder if he's just like this or only like this because you're out with them tonight.

"Anyways," you continue on, choosing not to rise to his bait this time and scanning the various alcoholic beverages that span the menu, "I think I'm going to order a glass of red wine. I'm a bit of a lightweight too so, that should be a safe option," you say with a small smile to directed to the two other men in the booth, "I'll probably also get some fries because drinking alcohol on an empty stomach is no-no I learned the hard way."

"Wait, how'd you learn that lesson?" Chan asks, an amused smirk spreading across his handsome face while he glances at you. Seungcheol looks curious about that particularly story too. You're not sure if they're desperate to avoid you and Jeonghan spitting venom at one another or sincerely curious but, you indulge them nonetheless.

That's how you tell them about one night in your second year of university where you and Seungkwan were short on cash but, wanted a night out. The semester had been kicking your asses and you two thought you'd earned a night of flirting with cute boys and taking shots of tequila. So, pooling the little money you two had, you spent it all on and drinks and nothing else. Being too young and dumb and desperate for a good time to think about having dinner before hitting the clubs. Suffice it to say, you two paid handsomely for your choices.

Seungcheol and Chan remain invested throughout your story. Hiding their laughter in their mugs of beer that were set on your table along with your wine while you regaled them with the tales of your time in university. At times, electing to laugh out loud freely. Both of their laughs triggering giggles of your own. Embers of fondness flickering inside of you watching their faces contort with joy and, drinking in the way Seungcheol's dimples soften his face and the spread of Chan's smile adds to his already magnetic draw. Jeonghan only sneaks in a few jabs. Perhaps the alcohol is mellowing him out a little, his remarks not enough to distract you from the, surprisingly, good time you're having with your other two coworkers.

"Wait, he paid you to chug your beer in under three minutes? And you actually agreed?" You ask with a loud laugh, taking a generous sip of your second glass of wine.

"It was the principle of matter!" Seungcheol argues, his beer sloshing in his mug as he juts his hand out to emphasise his conviction, "A little cash didn't hurt too," he finishes off with a laugh, taking a swing from his glass.

"He did it though, and Soonyoung had to pay up. A lot. It was on him. What kind of idiot bets so much money on someone being able to chug beer?" Chan adds with a snort of his own.

"Soonyoung apparently," Seungcheol responds with a chuckle.

"Hey, a win is a win and, it sounds like you got quite the bit of cash out of it," you say with a small smile, warmth blossoming in your cheeks at the boyish, prideful grin Seungcheol shoots your way, "I don't think I have any uni stories about chugging drinks and making bets, unfortunately."

"Yeah, you don't seem at all like the adventurous type," a voice you'd be thrilled to never hear again chimes in before he smirks that insufferable smirk of his and sips from his own mug of beer. And you've just had it. It's been easy, for the most part, to ignore Jeonghan and focus on your more pleasant and handsome coworkers. However, maybe it's just that you've reached your breaking point or the alcohol flowing through your veins but, your aggravation reaches a fever pitch.

"What is your problem?" You finally turn to the source of your foul turn in mood, "What have I done to offend you so personally that you've been a pain in my ass since I started working with you? Or does my mere presence just bother you that fucking much?"

The entire table goes quiet at your outburst. You do feel a little bad about Chan and Seungcheol having to sit through this. For the nth time. However, the man across from Chan is just so insufferable and seems to enjoy needling a reaction out of you. Well, you hope he's satisfied with the one he ripped from you now.

Jeonghan appears taken aback by your response. His eyes wide and blinking at you while his mouth opens and closes repeatedly. He looks stupid. Good.

"I was just teasing. It was just some light hazing," he finally manages to spit out but, his answer just adds a generous heap of gasoline to those sparks of irritation in the pit of your gut.

"Some light hazing? Really? That's all you have to say for yourself? Being a dick to me for months is just some ha ha funny teasing? We all know you're too old to hide behind such a shitty excuse, Jeonghan," you retort with a smirk that likely looks like the ones he's fond of sending your way. More teeth and venom than anything else. His eyes flash then and perhaps you touched a nerve. Whoops.

"At least I'm not a bore that barely has any social skills," he spits in reply. Really, it's a horribly weak response and you could've easily been the adult here and let it go. Continue pretending he's not here and listening to more of Seungcheol and Chan's stories. You could have done all of that but, you're so tired.

"You think I'm boring huh?" You ask him with a smile that's far too saccharine, it even hurts your own face with the effort it takes from you. Turning to face Chan, you decide to make a choice. Is it incredibly impulsive? Absolutely. Is it incredibly stupid and reckless? Absolutely. Will it be worth it? Potentially.

"Chan, do you think I'm boring?" You ask the man with a bat of your eyelashes and a pout on your lips. Chan doesn't even hesitate before he's tumbling over his words to respond to you, "No-no, not at all!" His earnestness is cute, "Don't listen to Jeonghan. He's just being an asshole. His words don't mean jack shit."

"Thank you, Chan. I appreciate it. Really, I do," you respond with a more genuine uptick of your lips before continuing, "If I asked you to kiss me, would you?"

That causes his eyes to nearly bulge out of their sockets. You don't miss Seungcheol and Jeonghan's noises of surprise either but, you're focused on the younger of the three men at the moment. Typically your nerves would be more on edge but, interestingly, you're calm. Patiently waiting for the blonde to respond to your question while you take another swing from your glass.

"Are you- are you drunk?" Are the words he's finally able to stutter out, fingers tugging on his tie a little in what you can only assume to be nervousness.

"Chan, I know I said I was a lightweight but, two glasses of wine aren't enough to completely knock me out of my senses," you reply with a giggle. You likely wouldn't act this way without the liquid in your veins but it acts as a nudge at best. You'll show Jeonghan who's boring. "You don't have to say yes, of course," you assure him, "but, I think you're cute."

The blush that colours his face only adds to his attractiveness and, to your shock, he nods. You didn't expect him to truly agree to your, frankly, insane suggestion but, he well and truly nodded just now. You shift closer to him and ease your hands onto his handsome face. It's difficult to tell who closes the gap first but, in the grand scheme of things, you don't think it matters all that much. Chan is a good kisser. He might even be great. He presses his lips firmly to your own but, not to the point of being stiff. Any earlier hesitation he had has vanished without a trace. His mouth meeting your own eagerly and with skill that makes you the tiniest bit lightheaded.

You pull away first. You're not sure how far this would've gone and, you don't want to push your luck here. Cracking your eyes open (when did you close them?), you're greeted with a sight that sends your insides into a tizzy and prompts your thighs to rub together. Chan watches you through lidded eyes, his gaze zeroing in on your freshly kissed lips while he chases every bit of you he can on his lips with his tongue. Easing your hands off of his face, you turn to face the two speechless men. Jeonghan looks like you just shattered his entire world view. Seungcheol, however, looks stunned for an entirely different reason. Perhaps you're projecting but, you're certain you see traces of the look the younger man gave you moments ago reflected in Seungcheol's gaze. Your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes drift to your mouth not so subtly.

You can't help the smile that's threatening to split your face in half. Men. Predictable.

"Seungcheol," you drawl in a voice a little foreign to your own ears but, based on the visible shudder you see run over the built man, he doesn't mind the change all that much, "Would you like to kiss me too? Or are you worried I'm just as boring as your colleague over there asserts?" You ask with a faux innocent tilt of your head while you gesture leisurely towards the man beside him who still hasn't said a word.

Much like Chan, Seungcheol looks like he can't quite believe what you're offering. He exchanges a glance with the other blonde at the table and whatever discussion the two of them have helps him come to an answer. The knots in your insides that were beginning to twist themselves just from kissing Chan grow significantly more complex just from the weight of Seungcheol's gaze and the nod he directs your way. This time, more maneuvering is required on your part but, Seungcheol is more than happy to meet you halfway. This time, his hand reaches across to cup your jaw and you find yourself growing the slightest bit stupid just from the way his thumb drags itself along your skin.

"For the record, I've never thought you were boring," he mutters before encompassing you in bliss. Seungcheol's lips, you discover very quickly, are just as soft as they look. It doesn't take him long to take the lead in this liplock. Guiding your head just slightest bit so, it's angled exactly how he wants while every brush of his mouth makes you seriously contempt whether you require oxygen at all. You think you could just live off of him instead.

Much to your dismay, he pulls away first and you painfully understand the disappointment Chan felt earlier when you parted from him. You could kiss the two of them for hours, you think. It's your turn to stare at him in a daze and the self-satisfied smirk he shoots at you does horrible, terrible things to your heart and panties. The two of you part after that without much fanfare. The table is deathly silent for a moment while you stare down Jeonghan who still appears to be coming to grips with what just transpired before his very eyes.

"I suppose you still think I'm a bore who never does anything outside of my comfort zone," you say to him, leaning on your palm and delighting in his inability to respond, maybe a little too much. Seungkwan has always chided you for your affinity for spite. "I hope you don't take offense to my not being interested in kissing you, though."

"Okay, fuck," he finally breaks, dragging an elegant hand over his face in a way that is a far cry from the smug man you've come to know, "I'm sorry. I was being a dick. You didn't deserve any of that. I guess I just felt threatened by you and I was lashing out."

That bewilders you. A lot. Out of all the reasons for you to earn the ire of Jeonghan, you don't expect that to be his explanation. "Threatened by me? Why?" You finally manage to ask, staring at him like you can't quite believe this is all even real. What the fuck is your life right now?

"You're the first person in a very long time who's been real competition for me at work," he chooses to ignore Seungcheol and Chan's interjections and huffs of protest, "I didn't think I was a competitive guy until someone who was actually a challenge came around and, I felt threatened. I'm sorry. I know that probably won't cut it for all the jabs and remarks but, I think I owe you that much at the bare minimum."

"You're not the first insecure man I've had to deal with in this line of work and, you won't be the last," you snort, reacquainting yourself with your glass, "Yeah, you'll have to forgive me if it takes me some time to warm up to you but, I do appreciate this being a start. Who knew kissing our coworkers would be the way to get you to be honest?" You muse behind said glass, smiling at the way all three men blush. You can deal with the ethics of all of this tomorrow.

"I misjudged you," Jeonghan responds with a disbelieving laugh, "I would've never thought you'd do something like this."

"You know what they say about assuming," you retort but, there isn't as much venom in your voice. You suppose you can't be in too foul of a mood after kissing the two men who think they're being subtle with the glances they sneak your way.

After that, much to everyone's relief, the tension between you and Jeonghan dissipates significantly.

Without being on edge awaiting Jeonghan's next jab, you're more relaxed than you have been since you started working with the men. Laughing freely at his own stories of horrible night outs and last minute submissions from university. Smiling behind your glass when he shares especially embarrassing tales featuring Seungcheol and Chan, much to their dismay. The atmosphere is calming. Sneaking your own glances of the two men under the low light and appreciating the way it creates a halo effect on both of them. Not that they needed much aid with their looks as it is.

You don't fail to notice how Chan's thighs brush against yours or the way Seungcheol's foot accidentally bumps yours underneath the table. Seungkwan's voice chooses now to echo through your skull. His nagging about how you don't think things through before acting on your pettiness being a particular hit with every silent touch, nudge and look between the three of you. The ghosts of their lips haunting you and it's only been a few hours. Maybe you're more fucked than you realised, you think when Seungcheol sends you another brief weighted gaze before drinking from his mug and, Chan chooses then to rest his hand precariously close to your leg.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," Jeonghan says after a brief but, not unpleasant lull in conversation, "It's getting late and I have a shit tonne to do tomorrow," he finishes with a sigh for dramatics before sliding out of the booth and grabbing his jacket. You don't know him well enough and it might be a trick of the light but, you swear you see his eyes practically twinkling with an emotion very, very close to amusement as he takes his leave.

"Goodnight, get home safe," you offer in the tentative peace the two of you have built over the evening. He shoots you a smile that almost looks misplaced on his face. This one is much softer than any he's given you before and you think maybe you and Yoon Jeonghan may be begrudging, civil coworkers yet. Seungcheol and Chan provide their own farewells to the man but, otherwise don't make any moves to slip out of the booth along with him. You're not sure what to expect. Part of you assumed they tended to call it a night together but, based on the way they sink into their seats while the other man walks off to hail a cab, your assumptions are misplaced.

The silence in the booth is deafening and the air feels decidedly tense. Not tense in the way that had become a staple of your interactions with Jeonghan. No, this isn't nearly as awkward and uncomfortable. You'd think the same bravado that had prompted you to kiss the two men who you now remain in the booth with would continue to carry you for the night but, without Jeonghan here, you find your face growing warm with the gazes you know are being leveled at you. Electing, instead, to keep your eyes locked onto your empty glass and ignoring Chan's body heat radiating mere centimetres away from you.

"So," Seungcheol is the first one to break the silence. Of course, it would be him. Against your better judgement, you glance up at him out of curiosity and you almost instantly regret that decision. His eyes look glazed with what you suspect to be desire but, perhaps that's projection and the wine on your part. However, it's difficult to shake that suspicion when he just keeps looking at you like that. Full lips parted while his eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips long enough to leave you squirming in your seat and reminding you of the state of your panties, before settling somewhere beneath your neckline. You have eyes. You know Seungcheol is attractive. And knowing, that on some level based on the way he kissed you and the way he is essentially undressing you with his eyes, he thinks you're attractive too is a lot.

"It's been quite the night," Chan pipes up and you honestly don't know if you have the resolve to look at him right now. You can already feel yourself coming apart at the seams being the focal point of Seungcheol's attention, you don't think you can handle adding Chan into the mix. He's already too close and his cologne has steadily drifted into your space enough to further muddle your brain and turn your throat remarkably dry. "I'm glad you and Jeonghan sorted everything out. Well, sort of," he laughs and that does make you feel lighter. You've always thought Chan had the most endearing laugh, "Plus, we got to see a different side of you tonight too."

All of the less carnal thoughts you had briefly are quickly extinguished by the way his mouth curves around the word 'different' and Seungcheol's answering laugh. It's much deeper and drawn out than the cute giggles you've grown accustomed to from him and, your insides burn.

"I didn't think I'd end up with a kiss from my gorgeous coworker but, I can't say I'm complaining," Seungcheol adds and your heart stutters in your chest when 'gorgeous' registers in your foggy brain. Your hands clenching against your thighs, fingernails biting into your skin through your thin stockings.

"Same here," Chan replies and you can hear the grin in his voice clear as day. God. What is this night turning into?

"What's wrong? You haven't said anything since Hannie left. Cat got your tongue?" Seungcheol asks with a tilt of his head and it hits you in this moment why he and the other man got along so well. A glint you've only seen in Jeonghan's eyes shining clear as day in his while one corner of his mouth lifts up, his dimple making an appearance. You're so fucked.

"I'm not- I don't," you huff in frustration when the words you're looking for don't quite find you, "I'm fine. Just a little hot but, I'm good," you finally manage to spit out. Only feeling mildly embarrassed at the effort it took but, all things considered, you're proud of yourself.

"Hot huh?" Chan asks in a way that causes the pit of your stomach to drop. Considerably. That drop continues when he shifts closer to you and leisurely slings are a muscular arm over your shoulder. You hope against hope neither man hears the soft gasp that leaves your mouth at the contact. Your grip on your thighs growing harsher when you comprehend his broad body pressed into your side. It takes all of your strength not to rub your thighs together when his scent hits you more viciously this time.

"Would you like our help cooling off?"

That forces you to look at Chan. Mouth parting while all you can think to do is stare at him before turning towards Seungcheol who doesn't contest Chan's usage of 'our.' His eyes darker than they were minutes ago while he waits for your response. From the way Chan's fingers absentmindedly trace patterns you can't discern onto your shoulders, he's waiting for a response too. Surely they can't be suggesting what you think they're suggesting. Definitely not. There's no way. This is just a wine, touch starved induced daydream. That's all.

"Well?" Seungcheol prompts you with a raise of his stupidly attractive eyebrow. Is everything about this man just hot?

"Well what?" You attempt to spit back but, any stability in your voice is severely undercut by how breathless you sound. Fuck.

"Do you want our help cooling off?" Chan asks once again and there's no mistaking what he means by the way he's pressed against you and the dip in his voice. His words drifting into your ears like something akin to music. You can't believe you're getting flustered by the same guy who accidentally stapled his tie to his paperwork. Twice. In the same day.

But really, what do you have to lose? Ethics pretty much took a nosedive off of a steep cliff when you asked to kiss the two of them and they agreed. It's clear they want you as much as you want them. So much for promising yourself to never, ever sleep with a coworker. Here you are contemplating letting two of them fuck you. Your younger self would be aghast. However, you're here now. And you can already feel how sticky and uncomfortable your panties are with every second that ticks by. What's the worst that could happen?

You nod. Biting your lip in the process and trying your best not to dissolve into a puddle in Chan's arms while you wait for them to respond or react or just do anything.

"You'll have to use your words, sweetheart," Seungcheol drawls and the tinge of command in his voice makes your stomach perform an entire gymnastics routine. "Yeah, we can't know what you want unless you tell us, baby," all of these petnames are going to make you lose your mind. Especially coming from both of them.

"I-I want you both to help me," you finally say. You're sure Chan can feel the heat radiating off of your face in waves but, you just hope that that confession is enough for them.

"Well, we shouldn't keep you waiting then," Seungcheol says with a grin that borders on wolfish. Yeah, you can definitely understand why he and Jeonghan are such close friends. It all makes sense now.

"There are a few hotels we can choose from down the street," Chan comments, the brush of his blonde hair against your skin sends a shudder down your spine. It really has far too long since you've been touched properly if his hair brushing against your skin is enough to cause you to react so strongly.

"I'm down if the two of you are," you muster, using every last bit of your nerve to glance at both of them to emphasise your seriousness. They both look like the way to eat you alive and, yeah, having both Choi Seungcheol and Lee Chan's gazes on you at the same time is incredibly overwhelming to put it mildly.

"Fuck, let's get out of here," Seungcheol practically groans, grabbing his jacket before shimming out of the booth at break neck speed. Your body moves before your brain can catch up. Sliding out onto very unsteady feet, coming into contact with Seungcheol's incredibly solid frame while he steadies you. You choose to ignore the knowing grin that spreads across his face while Chan grabs both of your respective possessions and joins the two of you.

"Shall we?" The younger man asks as if the three of you are getting ready to grab coffee with each other and not book a night in one of those inconspicuous hotels.

"We shall," Seungcheol responds and you truly cannot believe how cheesy they are. You're not sure what it says about you that these are the two men who caused you to make a mess in your panties and wobble on your feet. Thankfully, they choose not to drag things out after that exchange. The few coworkers who haven't taken Jeonghan's lead and headed home too wave you all off when you pass their tables. Oh. If only they knew.

It all feels real now. It's one thing to impulsively kiss your coworkers and flirt over drinks. It's a whole other matter to walk out of the bar and walk down the street to a hotel that blends in seamlessly to all of the other businesses. You're too busy being sandwiched between the two muscular men to catch the name. Not that it matters all that much in the grand scheme of things.

"Hello, could we please book a room for the night? We're not particular on what kind," Seungcheol asks the receptionist. Your face warms when they scan the three of you and raise their eyebrow marginally before typing away at their computer. Chan rubs your side and gives you another one of his blinding smiles while Seungcheol handles the details of whatever room the three of you are going to tumble into. Fortunately, they don't take long to wish the three of you a good night and hand over a room key. You all chorus your thanks in return before making a b-line for the elevator.

Chan is on you as soon as the doors shut. A surprised gasp from you echoes loudly in the tiny box when he nudges you against the cool wall. His lips pressing featherlight kisses along your jaw while his hands grasp your hips. Groping and fondling every part of you he can while Seungcheol watches the two of you in a mixture of amusement and desire. Your walls clench when your eyes meet over Chan's shoulder and he sends you a lopsided smile that shoots straight to your clit.

Much to your disappointment, the doors open in what feels like seconds later and Chan separates from you with such ease that it gives you whiplash. You're sure you already look like a wreck and here he is walking out as though he wasn't peppering your throat with kisses while his erection rested against your thigh. Seungcheol has the audacity to laugh at the pout on your lips but, he pulls you out of the elevator with ease. It doesn't take much scanning before the three of you stumble into room 259. It's a pretty luxurious suite. You're a little worried about just how much Seungcheol swiped away nonchalantly when paying for this room but, the two men are on you as soon as the door shuts behind them and before you can think about the cost of tonight further.

This time, it's Seungcheol's lips that descend upon you. Unlike the younger man, he opts to take his time. Kissing you as though he has all of the time in the world. His large hands reaching up to cup your face and drag his thumbs along your cheeks. Chan does not share the older man's affinity for patience. You throb harshly when you feel his cock pressing against your ass. Gasping into Seungcheol's mouth with every grind and kiss he sears into your neck. His hold on your hips is unrelenting. Keeping you in place while he finds relief in your body and the two men push you towards insanity. It doesn't help that you can feel the beginnings of Seungcheol's hardening cock prod your stomach too.

Before you're aware of what's happening, both men push you towards the monstrous large bed. Seungcheol laughs when a whine is ripped from your throat when you separate from the two of them, "We're going to take care of you, baby," he soothes while he kicks off his shoes and makes himself comfortable on the bed, "Don't worry."

"Yeah," Chan chimes in after some time, the throaty quality of his voice turns the storm of butterflies in your stomach into a hurricane, "Just need to get you in place first. Want to taste you," he mutters while he watches Seungcheol tug you towards him with heavy eyes. Situating you between his thick thighs while his lips occupy Chan's previous position and his hands drag along your body. Between every brush of his large hands and the outline of his cock resting against your lower back, it's all so much. However, then your brain is finally hit by Chan's words.

"Taste me?" You whisper, watching the younger man when he opts to position himself between your thighs. Your heart rising to your throat and close to bursting while his hands leisurely stroke your legs. Even through your stockings, his touch only adds to the sticky mess at the apex of your thighs. "Mhm," Chan hums in affirmation, carefully taking off your work heels and kissing along your left leg while his hand shoves up your skirt, "Been thinking about this for weeks," he mutters, meeting your eyes as his kisses reach higher and higher.

"When you wear these tight skirts that cling to your ass and shirts that hug your tits, how could we not?" Seungcheol mummers in agreement with Chan directly into your neck and a shiver runs from the top of your spine straight to your pulsing, neglected clit. His fingers shift to unbutton your blouse, more and more of your cleavage spilling out with every steady movement. Your brain is reeling from their confessions and every touch they imprint onto your body. Whimpers all you can think to respond with when Chan reaches your inner thighs and Seungcheol impatiently tugs your shirt off of your shoulders.

"Tempting us for months now," Seungcheol continues with a teasing edge to his voice into your shoulder while his hands knead your breasts over your bra. Chan hums in agreement against your thigh. Tugging your skirt further up your waist and, you throb when his lidded gaze finds yours between your thighs. "And that little show you put on for Jeonghan," Seungcheol chuckles while his fingers drift from your breasts to fiddle with your clasps. Between your breasts finally being free and Seungcheol wasting no time in cupping them in his large hands and, Chan pressing his face directly onto your covered slit and groaning, you can already feel yourself growing overwhelmed.

"Well, maybe it wasn't just a show," Seungcheol says between kisses to your neck that prompts goosebumps to rise with every brush of his lips, his thumbs dragging slow circles against your hardened nipples that force mewls from your throat. You'd shut your thighs if Chan wasn't firmly slotted between them, honestly.

You're brought out of your haze when a ripping sound hits your ears and cool air hits your drenched panties. A startled gasp leaved your lips when you look down to see that Chan ripped your fucking stockings. You're not sure if you're more annoyed or aroused right now.

"Chan," you hiss, though you doubt you sound angry enough since Seungcheol's fingers are still toying with your nipples and his strong hands eagerly knead as much of your breasts as he can fit in his palms. He even has the nerve to laugh against your shoulder. The fucking audacity.

"I'm sorry," he certainly doesn't sound all that sorry, "I just got impatient. I'll buy you a new pair. Hell, I'll buy you as many pairs as you want," Chan says, his eyes solely focused on your now exposed, wet panties. Before you can think of a retort, he moves them out of the way and wastes no time in lapping at your soaked slit.

If Seungcheol didn't have you firmly pressed to his broad chest, you think you may have crumpled on the spot.

Chan is a passionate man. It bleeds into his work and, he's one the hardest working people you've ever met. Apparently, those characteristics are not only part of his work persona. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. Moaning into your pussy while his hand presses against your thigh to make sure you remain spread for him. Keens ripping from your body when he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, alternating between licks and sucks. Experimenting to see what prompts the best reactions from you. Watching you under his lashes when he licks particularly hard and your hips jolt into his mouth.

"Is Chan making you feel good, baby?" Seungcheol whispers into your ear, a whimper leaving you when he bites down on your lobe and his fingers tug a little harder on your nipples.

"Ye-Yes," you moan, one of your hands weaving into Chan's blonde locks, not sure if you want to shove him closer or push him away. Fortunately, his hold and mouth make the choice for you. His tongue dragging patterns your hazy mind couldn't hope to discern while one of his hands joins him. A quiver running over your entire body when two of his fingers tease your entrance.

"Both of y-you. Both of you are making me feel so goo-good," you manage to hiccup.

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, one of his hands reaching up to cup your jaw. Thick fingers pressing into your cheeks fiercely while he angled your face towards him, slamming his mouth against yours and greedily drinking in every sound of pleasure you let out. The kiss is messy and poorly coordinated. It's more tongue and spit and desperation than anything else and you love it.

Chan chooses then to stop toying with you. Gingerly pushing two of his fingers into you, you're more than wet enough to take it but, you still shift marginally to adjust to the stretch they provide. Your tugs on his hair grow more incessant and you barely have the presence of mind to kiss Seungcheol back. You feel no better than a baser creature right now. The obscene sounds of just how wet you are for both of them bouncing off the walls with every careful movement of Chan's fingers. A far cry from the way his mouth is determined to devour you whole.

"You taste so good," Chan groans against you briefly before diving back in, curling his fingers faster than before and allowing them to push further into your tight heat. A wanton, broken moan leaves your bruised lips when you and Seungcheol finally separate for air when Chan finds the most sensitive part of your walls. You would roll your eyes at the smirk he presses against you if you could. Really, you would. However, you can already feel your thighs starting to shake and more of your wetness gushing down his palm with every brutal curl of his fingers and lick of your clit.

"Are you getting close, sweetheart?" Seungcheol's question forces your eyes open (when had you even shut them?) and the heat in his eyes makes your walls clamp down on Chan's fingers.

"Uh huh," you whimper, using all of your strength to keep your eyes open to look at the older man while he rubs soothing circles into your cheek and his other hand gropes one of your breasts. "'M so close, Cheol. Wanna cum so bad. Channie's mouth and fingers feel so good. Please," you doubt you're making much sense at this point but, it can't be helped when you feel that familiar knot in the pit of your gut growing tighter and tighter. Your words motivate the younger man further. His fingers happily exploit the weakness he found along your walls and he sucks on your clit vigorously.

"Well, then cum for us, baby. Want you to make a mess for us. On Channie's face and fingers."

Well, that does you in.

You're once again thankful that Seungcheol is bracing you against him because you would have dissolved into a puddle the moment your orgasm barreled into you. He kisses you through it. It's not as fierce as his earlier kisses but, you appreciate it nonetheless while you moan and whimper into him. Chan keeps going through it all. Licking along your slit to lap up as much of you as he can while his fingers continue to work inside of your spasming walls. Not giving you the slightest chance to shut your thighs and making you take every, single sensation while you try your best to ride out one of the most intense orgasms of your fucking life.

"Ch-Channie," you whimper, pulling away from Seungcheol and tugging on the younger man's hair in an attempt to separate him from your poor, throbbing pussy, "Too much," you heave, shaking in Seungcheol's arms. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he gives you a few more kisses before unlatching himself from you. He eases his fingers out of you slowly and it feels like a fucking lifetime before you're painfully empty once again.

You're panting and heavily slumped against Seungcheol who happily lets you rest against him. Chan rests against the backs of his legs once he comes up for air too, his chest heaving just as heavily as yours. His face is flushed and the bottom half of it is drenched in spit and your juices. His tongue peaking out to chase as much of your wetness as it can reach, his eyes glazed with desire. God, you don't think you'll ever forget the sight of him like this.

"You should taste her," are the first words he speaks, the scratchiness in his voice shooting straight to your near overstimulated clit, "She tastes fucking heavenly. Honestly could've kept my mouth on her all night," he borderline moans to the older man over your shoulder.

"Based on the way you were humping the mattress and nearly came in your pants, I bet she does," Seungcheol laughs from the depths of his chest, his body vibrates with it. Chan scowls at the older man, "I didn't nearly cum in my pants. It's not my fault she tastes good and I got fucking hard," he pouts and, god, him pouting while his mouth is still covered with you should not be so hot.

"Here, taste for yourself," Chan retorts, lifting the hand that is still covered in you towards the older man. That catches you off-guard. If Seungcheol wasn't behind you, you'd be staring at the man unblinkingly to see how he responds. How he reacts. However, you can't see him or what expression he's making at Chan's offer.

"Fine," and like that you hear the sound of him lapping at the younger man's fingers with the same enthusiasm Chan had when he was between your thighs.

These two want you to fucking die.

"See?" Chan asks with a smug smirk spreading across his face, pulling his fingers back. The knowledge that they're now wet with Seungcheol's spit significantly worsens the ache between your thighs.

"You're right," Seungcheol grumbles from behind you, strong hands moving to run along your sides, "I need to get a taste for myself later," he muses, grasping at your hips and squeezing them hard.

The thought of his mouth on you causes you to whimper. And, unfortunately for you, both men hear you based on the heavy looks you can feel on you right now.

"Greedy," Seungcheol laughs behind you and you ignore the heated rush that courses through your veins, "Wonder how long you've imagined having both of us like this," Chan muses, watching you through his bangs and god, you don't understand how he manages to look so fucking hot. Maybe Seungcheol is right. Maybe you are just insatiable for both of them. Your lust is a bottomless pit.

"Since the first week I started working with the two of you," you breathe and your noise of surprise is muffled by Chan. Your eyes widen and your brain takes a second too long to kiss him back but, you eventually do nonetheless. Melting into him when the taste of your cum hits your tastebuds. Desperate hands clutching at his previously pristine work shirt while he licks into your mouth.

"You should've told us. We could've had you like this for weeks," Seungcheol whispers into your ear, shallowly rutting himself against your ass while Chan continues to messily make out with you.

"Fuck," you moan into the younger man's mouth at Seungcheol's words, the throbbing starting to teeter on painful once again, "Please. Fuck me, please. I want both of you. I'm so empty, it hurts," you whimper, touching and attempting to grasp at both of them simultaneously. Anything to relieve the endless desperation you're drowning in.

"Poor baby," Chan coos once he's pulled away from you, his eyes watching the way his thumb drags along your bottom lip before looking at Seungcheol once again. Whatever exchange they have this time doesn't take long before Chan's eyes are on you once again, "Be a good girl and bend over, sweetheart. We'll take care of you."

It's all a scramble of limbs and hurried movements from there. You miss the warmth and safety of being caged by Seungcheol but, the promise of being filled motivates you more. The sounds of clothes rustling catches your attention and your breath stops in your lungs as you watch Chan hurriedly shrug his shirt off to reveal years worth of hard earned muscle. Saliva pooling in your mouth when he unbuckles his belt and kicks off his boxers and dress pants, his cock slapping against his stomach and making you clamp down hard.

"Like what you see?" He asks and this time you do roll your eyes at him, "Shut up," you respond and Seungcheol laughs from his position against the headboard.

"Quite the mouth you've got there, sweetheart," Chan says as he comes up behind you, his hands grasping your stockings and hurriedly pulling them and your ruined panties off of you. Leaving you completely nude and exposed to both men. "Let's see if you'll still be mouthing off to me in a bit," he says, kneading your ass. His blunt fingernails biting into your skin and sending lightning from the top of your spine to the very base.

A strangled gasp bounces off the walls when he rubs himself against your ass, groaning at the friction and watching you grow wetter and wetter with each grind of his cock against you.

"Chan, please," you whine, pressing back into him in search of any kind of relief.

You expect him to give you a tougher time. Tease you. Toy with you until frustrated tears brim your eyes but, fortunately, he seems just as pent up as you are.

"I've got you, baby," he practically moans, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock. Ensuring he's sufficiently coated in your wetness before he carefully starts to push into you. Your combined sounds of pleasure quickly fill the entire room, your eyes fluttering shut with every centimetre he sinks into you. You're so wet. Wet enough that it's smeared your thighs but, the stretch is still overwhelming. Your fingers clawing at the sheets and your mouth hanging open as your walls try to accommodate Chan's girthy cock.

"You're doing so well, pretty girl," Seungcheol soothes you, reaching for you and cupping your heated face. You'd honestly forgotten about him for a moment. However, his touch and words are more than welcome. They help you relax as much as you can until Chan bottoms out. Cracking your eyes open, you moan at the sight of the older man watching you with a mixture of softness and desire. Your eyes dropping to map as much of his skin with them as you can. You don't know when he removed his shirt but, you weren't complaining in the slightest.

Your walls clench and unclench around Chan's cock sporadically, trying to grow accustomed to the thick intrusion while Chan's hands continue to knead your ass and Seungcheol helps you relax as much as you can.

"Ch-Chan. You can m-move," you finally whimper out when the discomfort subsides substantially. He hums in affirmation before slowly pulling out of you halfway and thrusting back in just as slowly. It's still a fucking lot and, you can already feel the strength to hold yourself up leaving you. A broken moan leaving your bruised lips and Seungcheol chooses then to kiss you. One of his hands drifting to your hair and tugging on it lightly while Chan continues to shallowly work you open. His cock deliciously dragging along your slick walls while he moans softly behind you.

"Is Chan's cock making you feel good?" Seungcheol asks teasingly, his eyes glinting when you shut your eyes as Chan gives you an especially deep stroke, his hands spreading your ass so he can watch the way you cling to him and coat his cock. Your brain is quickly turning to liquid in your skull as his pace picks up a bit. Not too much but, enough for the sounds of his balls hitting you to become more audible.

"I asked you something, baby," Seungcheol says, the darker edge to his voice unconsciously making you tighten around Chan who groans louder than he previously had, his hips snapping into you hard enough to push you towards Seungcheol.

"Ye-Yes, Cheol. Ch-Channie's dick is making me feel s-so go-good," you finally stutter out. You have an inkling the other man knows what he's doing because it doesn't take much after that for Chan to fuck into you with very little hesitance. Thick fingers moving to hold onto your hips and keeping you firmly in place so you couldn't squirm away from him. That finally evaporates any strength you had left. Seungcheol happily lets you rest against his thigh and his cock, straining against his boxers, joins your line of sight.

"Che-Cheol," you whimper, trying to collect all of your brain cells that aren't currently mush right now. Reaching for his cock and needily palming him over his boxers, prompting a grunt from the man from the very back of his throat.

"God, you're so fucking cock hungry," he grits out, his hips pressing into your hand to help alleviate some of the pressure. "Chan's already fucking you and here you are trying to get my dick out," he groans, looking down at you through his damp hair.

"I think she likes when you talk to her like that," Chan laughs breathlessly behind you, leaning down to press a kiss against your back while he continues to fuck into your warm, wet walls, "Our little cockslut."

The word makes you whine into Seungcheol's thigh. Much like Chan, he seems to be a little too fond of being a bit mean to you too based on the way he chuckles. "Don't be shy," he coos, reaching down to cup your face and make you look at him. You're sure you look like a fucking wreck right now. "If you want to suck me off, you could've just asked, baby," he says, his fingers brushing along your bottom lip and following the movements religiously. A quiet curse that falls from his plump lips as he watches you. That's more than enough motivation for him to pull his hands away from you and tug off his boxers. Tossing them to join the mess you've all made on the hotel room floor.

Seungcheol is big. No, big is putting it mildly. Seungcheol is fucking massive. The sound his cock makes when it hits his thigh is enough to intimidate you further. Not that it required much since the sheer size of him was enough to prompt your eyes to widen, mouth to salivate and pussy clench viciously around Chan.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he says once you've ogled him sufficiently, his eyes shining with concern and his hand toying with your hair.

"No, I want to. I want you in my mouth, Cheol."

His cock jumps at your words and you think his reaction is going to supply you with enough confidence to last at least a lifetime. "Fuck, okay. I'll go slow," he groans, wrapping his hand around his cock and you didn't think it could look any more appealing until now. True to his word, Seungcheol does very, very slowly push into your mouth. He tastes a little salty but not unpleasant. It does take awhile for you to adjust to his size and you can already feel the ache developing in your jaw. However, it's worth it. It's so worth it the way Seungcheol groans when he's halfway in your mouth. It's worth it when his fingers weave themselves in your hair and tugging on it gently while he shallowly fucks your mouth.

Between the way Chan molds you around his cock and the way you drool around Seungcheol's, you aren't really capable of much else than letting the two of them find pleasure in your body and taking the pleasure they give you. Your body jolts when the fat head of Seungcheol's cock hits the back of your throat.

"Shit, 'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?" He asks, his warm, brown eyes looking down at you with concern. You try your best to nod with him still in your mouth. Conveying to him that it's okay and he once again thrusts into your mouth. This time around you're better prepared to handle the brush of his cock on the back of your throat. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight. You love being our little toy to use huh?" Chan moans, his hand snaking between your slick thighs to rub heavy-handed circles into your clit. Your pitchy moans are muffled by Seungcheol's cock, spit dribbling down your chin while your body shudders as Chan drags you onto his cock and pushes you closer and closer to another orgasm.

"You're taking my cock so well, sweetheart," Seungcheol praises, his pace picking up slightly until the sounds of you choking on him join the litany of noises that fill your hotel room. You can already tell that your throat will be raw tomorrow but, you don't care. You can't when he looks so stunning fucking your mouth and copious amounts of his pre-cum join the mess slipping past your lips.

"Fuck," Chan grits behind you, his thrusts quickly shifting from precise and brutal to sloppy and bordering on uncoordinated. Based on the way his cock twitches inside of you, you wager that he's close. You're proven right not long after that when he chokes out your name before pressing his hips flush against your ass, his cock throbbing as rope after rope of his cum floods your eager and awaiting walls. Between the warmth that floods your pussy and his continued rubbing your clit, you tumble over the proverbial edge soon after him. All your whimpers and mewls turn to vibrations around Seungcheol's cock, overstimulated tears streaking down your face as your body spasms along with Chan's.

"Fuck, pretty girl, you should see yourself," Seungcheol grits out, easing his cock out of your mouth while you try to gather your bearings as Chan holds onto you to steady himself. Your walls still spasm around his softening cocl through the aftershocks and that just prompts him to dig his fingers into you and, moan quietly.

"Are you two okay?" Seungcheol asks with equal parts concern and amusement, eyeing your respective fucked out states.

"Yeah, just needed a moment," Chan responds first, gently pulling out of you. You can't help but, cringe at the feeling and the sudden emptiness. Your body finally collapsing onto the sheets since Chan isn't holding you up any longer. Your thighs feel little better than jelly at the moment and your breathing is still laboured.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you reply once you start to come back to yourself, blinking up at Seungcheol who shoots you a gentle smile and strokes your hair. You notice that he's very much still hard and part of you wonders why he didn't just cum in your mouth. You'd be more than happy to let him.

"You haven't cum yet," you say, glancing at his wet, very hard cock before looking at his face.

He laughs and Chan snorts behind you, "I didn't want it to be too much for you. Don't worry. If you're tired, I can just take care of myself and we can call it a night."

You can't help but pout and reach for him, wrapping a hand around him and delighting in the hiss that leaves his lips, "I'm not tired and I want you to cum too, Cheol. Do you want to use my mouth or cum inside too?"

You probably shouldn't find the way his jaw clenches so attractive yet here you are.

"Told you she was a cockslut," Chan pipes in and you shoot him an annoyed look over your shoulder briefly. You doubt you look all that mad at him since you take a moment to appreciate the way his blonde locks stick to his damp forehead and a thin sheen of sweat makes him look even more mouthwatering, "Shut up, Chan," you retort before turning back to the other man and waiting for his answer.

"You're trying to kill me," Seungcheol jokes, sounding short of breath, "Can you roll onto your back for me, baby?"

You comply so fast that you're surprised you don't give yourself whiplash. Chan grins at you before moving out of the way without much fanfare. Taking Seungcheol's previous position against the headboard and being content to spectate this time around.

It's one thing to see Seungcheol while Chan was rearranging your spine but, the vision he makes between your thighs will be the stuff of your fantasies for years to come after tonight. He's longer than Chan. You can tell as much just from looking at him and feeling the younger man inside you. It's going to be an adjustment but, you're more than ready to take him.

"Are you ready?" He asks, glancing at you through his bangs while he grinds against your wet slit. Sneaking a few peaks to watch the way you cover him in your wetness. You would giggle at his complete lack of subtlety if you weren't itching to feel him.

"Seungcheol, yes," you whine, grinding back against him so he knows you're more than certain about this.

"Never hurts to make sure," he tuts but, grabs himself in his hand nonetheless. Guiding himself to your wet entrance and very gradually sinking into you. Your mouth hangs open as a gasp leaves your lips at the sensation. Fortunately, the stretch isn't too overwhelming. Chan certainly made sure of that. However, Seungcheol is still big and it takes you a while to grow accustomed to the way he pushes into you.

"Chan was right," he groans, watching your face and body for any signs of this all being too much, "You're so fucking tight and wet, baby."

All you can do is moan in response. Pitchy whimpers being punched from your chest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. Your eyes drift from drinking in the way his face contorts beautifully to glancing down to watch him split you open and tightening around him at the sight.

"Taking me so well," he mutters, leaning down to press a frenzied kiss to your lips before he starts moving. Your hands find themselves on his broad back, your fingernails digging into it with every deep stroke he gives you. He eagerly swallows your gasping moans when he shoves your legs back, using his strength to keep them pressed to your chest and cursing against your bruised lips when he sinks impossibly deeper into you.

"I'm going to be honest," he pants against your mouth as he fucks into you, his cock dragging against your walls, a combination of your wetness and Chan's cum beginning to leak out of you and dribble down your ass with every jolting thrust he gives you. "I don't think I'm going to last that long," he pants, nuzzling your neck and lavishing your throat with licks, nips and kisses.

"'Is okay," you squeak when he brushes against the sensitive patch against your walls, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull. "Want you to cum. Want you to cum inside, Cheol," you whimper, clutching him as close to you as humanly possible. Not caring in the slightest at the sweat you can feel dripping onto your skin.

"Fuck, baby. Don't say that," he moans against your skin between kisses, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life while he continues to chase his release. God, he's so fucking deep you're certain you can feel him in the pit of your stomach where that all too familiar knot begins to tighten once more. The obscene squelching of your pussy combined with his breathy curses seared into your skin only fueling the simmer building in your gut. You're not sure if you can cum again right now but, based on the way his cock bullies your pussy, you're not sure how much of a say you have in the matter.

Seungcheol, unlike Chan, catches you off-guard when he falls apart. His strangled warning of 'cumming' is the only signal you receive before he gives you one brutal thrust and completely remains inside of you to cum as deeply as he possibly can. You wouldn't be surprised if you found bruises on your thighs tomorrow from the way his thick fingers clutch at them while he rides out his climax, his cock pulsing nonstop inside of you. It's like he cums endlessly and you kiss the side of his head as he shudders on top of you, his breaths fanning over your heated skin.

Seungcheol barely has enough strength left but he uses it to pull out of you (you don't think the feeling will ever stop being unpleasant) and rolls onto his back to catch his breath. You don't blame him. You're about five seconds from passing out and you can already feel the mess of combined cum smearing your thighs. You are genuinely a little worried about how you're going to get your legs to cooperate with you.

"Nope, no passing out," Chan says, leaning over you. He's so handsome. Even when he's annoying you and you want nothing more than to shove him aside and crawl under the covers. "We have to get you all cleaned up first," he tuts, booping you on the nose. It's difficult for you to reconcile this man with the one that made you almost cry from pleasure not too long ago.

"I'm tired," you whine, flicking him lightly on the forehead and smiling at the splutter you receive in response, "Plus, my legs feel like jello. I don't know if I could get up if I wanted to."

"We'll help you. It's our responsibility after all," Seungcheol mutters, looking as tired as you feel but sending you a reassuring smile all the same.

You're barely awake as the two men help you to the bathroom. Helping you clean up while doing the same for themselves until the three of you are no longer a sweaty, gross mess. You don't remember much before you find yourself wrapped up in the soft hotel covers, snuggling into one of them. You're not sure who and, you honestly don't care beyond whoever it is incredibly warm and solid beneath your touch. Sleep finds you within minutes after that.

Your groan when the (unfortunately) familiar sound of your alarm violently drags you out of the land of the unconscious. You blindly reach for it but, come into contact with something muscular and hot instead. That wakes you up. Blinking your eyes open, you're met with someone's back instead and that's when the events of last night come slamming into you.

Oh god. So that really happened. You really had sex with your two coworkers. That wasn't just some surreal dream.

"Whoever's alarm that is, shut it off," a tired, scratchy voice grumbles behind you. Using the arm he'd slung around your waist to tug you closer to his broad chest. Seungcheol.

"I need you to let go of me first," you respond sheepishly, the rough quality of your voice surprising you but, then you remember the way the man behind you used your mouth last night and you suppose this is to be expected.

He only grumbles minimally before eventually letting you go. You're sore. Unsurprisingly. However, you do try your best to crawl to the foot of the bed until you find your purse, thankfully, within reach. You hit the dismiss button quickly before crawling back to your spot. You have no clue how Chan can sleep through that. The man must be a fucking rock.

"We need to get ready for work," you whisper to Seungcheol with a frown, resting your arm across your forehead and sighing.

"Or," you nearly jump out of your skin when the younger man turns to face the two of you with a grin on his face, "We could just call in sick," he offers with a shrug. Typically you'd protest the idea more but, you're so exhausted and you highly doubt you'd be able to get up on your legs right now even if you gave it your all.

"I second that," you respond, glancing at the older blonde to see his reaction. He looks pensive for a moment before replying,

"Well, it's settled then."

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