#apologies didn’t see tag at first so this is an edit

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone.��

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

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: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest. 

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all. 

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it. 

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath. 

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him. 

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries. 

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.  

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks. 

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there. 

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages. 

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt. 

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains. 

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff. 

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is;  he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened. 

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so. 

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him. 

“It was heavy,” he admits. 

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss. 

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away. 

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all. 

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night. 

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says. 

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them. 

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other. 

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting. 

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open. 

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think. 

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything. 

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him. 

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily. 

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu. 

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative. 

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons. 

You look at him, waiting for his instructions. 

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says. 

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go. 

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms. 

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it. 

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all. 

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before. 

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had. 

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside. 

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is. 

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own. 

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him. 

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment. 

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes. 

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day. 

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything. 

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do. 

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away. 

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do. 

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower. 

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly.  But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology. 

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze. 

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way. 

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father. 

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning. 

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on. 

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours. 

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?” 

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.   

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now. 

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie. 

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past. 

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects. 

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing. 

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you. 

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience. 

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?” 

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly. 

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike. 

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself. 

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it. 

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways. 

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation. 

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work. 

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying. 

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.  

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though. 

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him. 

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.” 

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you. 

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it. 

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks. 

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch. 

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow. 

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring. 

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten. 

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week. 

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself. 

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday. 

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting. 

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day. 

“Does that bother you?” He follows up. 

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you. 

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest. 

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds. 

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you. 

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously. 

He nods anyway and asks you to continue. 

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well. 

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief. 

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard. 

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again. 

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind. 

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.” 

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need. 

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be. 

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay. 

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply. 

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now. 

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t. 

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines. 

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again. 

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that. 

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs. 

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you. 

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop. 

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same. 

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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[mochinomnoms]

Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?

idia shroud x f!reader [tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive [wc} – 3, 241 prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men a floral inconvenience

According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart. 

Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine. 

He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic? 

“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”

Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder. 

“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”

Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”

Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough. 

“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck. 

“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone. 

His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress. 

“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”

Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk. 

Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—

“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head. 

“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”

Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave. 

“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!” 

The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves. 

“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.” 

Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight. 

“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.” 

Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck. 

The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair. 

“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”

“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”

“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”

“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”

Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…” 

“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”

He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.

“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”

Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”

A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals. 

“Idia!”

“Big Brother!”

“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”

Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid. 

“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again. 

“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”

“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”

Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.

“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”

Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple. 

“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”

Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”

“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.

“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”

Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued. 

“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”

“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth. 

“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots. 

“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”

“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”

“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.

“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”

The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers. 

“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”

“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?” 

“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!” 

Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach. 

“Idia?”

“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”

“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”

He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose. 

Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right. 

“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression. 

He hummed in response. 

“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”

He hummed again.  

“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”

“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice. 

You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”

“...So?”

“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.

“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you. 

"Why don't you just confess?"

“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”

“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”

“But I like you!”

Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”

“Huh.”

“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”

Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly. 

“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”

Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—

“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”

“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know. 

“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair. 

“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”

It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.

“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”

A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation. 

You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest. 

Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas. 

He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” 

You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?” 

“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”

“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?

Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red. 

“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”

You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”

Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”

“You say things like that all the time!” 

The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked. 

[noodlemoondle]

Drunken Care

Solomon x Reader

word count: 1.3k

cw: drinking/drunkenness, like ONE slightly suggestive scene, nudity? (i’m not rlly sure what to add here)

tags: fluff!, you’re drunk lol, caring solomon, bathing together, literally sleeping together

(idrk what to add here either lolol)

description: you get a bit too drunk at one of Diavolo’s balls and solomon brings you home and takes care of you

author’s note: posting this in honor of the end of obey me. i wrote this like over a year ago when nightbringer first came out so im not rlly a fan of how i wrote it but i rlly didn’t wanna rewrite the whole thing so i just fixed it up a bit. so i do apologize for that and anything i missed. also omfg i edited and fixed this like 3 different times bc tumblr KEPT FUCKING DELETING MY WORK. i was losing my mind but i rlly wanted to post it but i couldn’t post it unedited. also please bear with me as i sort thru all of my fics in my notes before i start writing new ones lolol.

N E wayzz i hope u enjoy!!! ·̀.̫·́✧

Diavolo’s balls were always fun. Sometimes it even seemed as if everyone in all of Devildom was invited to them. It was always fun to socialize and laugh with everyone, but eventually in the night you’d start feel a little left out since everyone would get drunk out of their minds and even though you didn’t necessarily mind the taste of demonus, you couldn’t really get drunk off of it so you don’t really see the point of drinking it. After a while, you’d just go hang out with Solomon since he’d be the only sober one left (not including Barbatos). Diavolo’s kind soul eventually took note this and made sure to get loads of human world alcohol so you and solomon could get as drunk as you please every time you were at the castle. Now this, made Diavolo’s parties the absolute best.

Solomon used to love getting drunk with you, but ever since you both got sent back in time he’s started to watch himself more since he knew how much you loved to get drunk with the brothers and someone needed to be able to watch over you. (and also since the last time he got super drunk he admitted some embarrassing things to you he’d rather not repeat). Tonight was no different, you were drunk out of your mind, greatly enjoying yourself, but it was just starting to get late and you needed to get home. Solomon had to forcefully drag you away before you died from alcohol poisoning (he swears you’re an alcoholic no matter how many times you deny it) you made sure to shoot him an angry glare with your bottom lip slightly poking out for dragging you away so early, but you eventually eased up on the drive home.

Solomon pulled up to the house and before you could get out of the car, he locked the door trapping you inside. In you confused, drunken state all you could do was was angrily stare at him as he made his way around to your door before opening it. He placed one hand on the roof of the vehicle, as he leaned inside to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“I don’t trust you to walk. Come here i’ll carry you.”

His princely act made you lose you forget your childish tantrum, replacing it with a childlike glee as you start giggling at him, jumping into his hold as he lifted you up. As he carried you to the door, you peppered his face and neck with kisses giggling and smiling with every peck you placed on him leaving a faint mark of pink lipstick on his skin. Solomon smiled down at you, adoring your cuteness whenever you got drunk. He begins to walk through the halls as he starts to make his way to the bathroom.

“Sol?” you ask innocently.

“Yes, baby?” he responds looking down and admiring your smile.

“You’re so pretty” you say accompanied with a smile.

“Angel?” he asks.

“Uh huh?” you say giggling obviously appreciating the name.

“You’re even prettier” he replies adding a kiss on your forehead as well.

You gasp and smile so big giggling even more. He looked down at you with all the love in all three worlds as he opened the bathroom door and placed you on the counter so he can start running a bath.

“Sol?” you ask again, beginning to kick your feet back and forth.

“Yes, darling?” he responds with a raised voice as the water begins to run.

“Do you know why i call you Sol?” you question.

He’s heard you tell him millions of times, but he never gets tired of the tale.

“No dear, why do you call me sol?” he says as he turns around to you smiling.

“Well not only is it because it’s a shorter version of your name, but did you know that in spanish sol means sun and you’re like my sun in life so it has two meanings!” you beam at him.

“You’re so cute you know that?” he says as he kissed your cheeks and lips

Solomon doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of telling you that. Telling you how much he loves you, how pretty you are, and how happy you make him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he continues to shower you with kisses. He then pulls away and pinches at your dress.

“C’mon now time to take this off” he says as he’s starting to slide it off your body.

“Why?” you ask him in a flirty tone smirking and tilting your head to the side.

“No. You’re drunk.” lightly slapping your back before kissing you again.

You pout and cooperate, lifting your arms up allowing him to undress you before undressing himself and getting in the bath. Solomon tries to bathe you, but isn’t very successful with you not letting go of him. Ss much as he loves you being a happy and affectionate drunk, you weren’t a very cooperative one. The soft environment and Solomon’s comforting embrace caused you to grow sleepier in the warm bath. He eventually got you to settle on his chest, laying your head on his shoulder, as he thoroughly shampoos and conditions your hair, softly humming.

Soon enough, he’s able to get both of you clean. He wraps you in a towel before bringing you to his room and placing you on his bed. He goes to his drawer to get you both clothes and you can do nothing more but just stare at him in awe as he leans over and picks out some clothes with nothing more than a towel covering his waist.

“Surprised you didn’t throw up. I think you drank your weight in shots. Now, which shirt you wanna wear?”

He said as he turned around only to find you looking at him with the most love struck face he could imagine.

“What are you staring at?” he questioned a breathy chuckle leaving his throat with it.

“You” you answered flatly.

“And who is you?” he teased walking up to you.

“You is my pretty, handsome, perfect, amazing, beautiful boyfriend solomon who i love so so so so so so so so so so SO much” you say looking up at him as if he is the only star in the sky.

“That was a lot of so’s” he laughs as he cups your face with one of his hands.

“I need more of them to describe how much i love you” you give a soft smile as he walks back to the dresser to put on his sleep pants leaving his chest bare while also choosing your sleepwear.

He walks over back to you and dresses you in one of his shirts he knew you favored and a pair of his boxers.

Once he finishes dressing you, he leans you back in bed and tucks you in following soon after. You’re quick to pounce on him the moment he enters the covers. You lay over his chest covering it in kisses, before you begin to settle down and start to fall asleep.

“Sol?” you whisper as quietly as you can. your sleepy voice had to be one of his favorites.

“Yes, angel?” he whispers back.

You move up on his chest getting close to his ear and quietly whisper: “I love you”

He chuckles pressing a kiss against your forehead and leaning down to your ear to mirror your action.

“I love you even more.” he whispers even quieter. it was a statement he made just for you, so only your ears should hear it.

You smile and bury yourself back into his chest, but before you could fall asleep you can feel him kiss the top of your head and smile against your head saying.

“You’re gonna regret drinking so much tomorrow”

[prettyboykatsuki]

i've been very far home, my heart | nightowl (blooming panic)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags; established relationship, hurt/comfort, feelings of inadequacy / low self worth, gn!reader (they wear heels and have manicured nails, but otherwise nondescript. no gendered language), role reversal, arguing / messy human behavior, suggestive towards the end, they are implied to be the same height 🫡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wc ; 3.7k (added 500 to wc in editing. ok)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n ; bro idk what happened here FDHJDKDKJ. my sleep meds were making me feel super hungover, i got a little cooked on the devils lettuce and then wrote this?? and it wasn't bad lmaoaoa??

i really like this blonde twink ive known for three days. he is like. so extremely, hilariously my type and exactly like several ppl i've dated so this end up being a reflective piece on being a giver n navigating adult relationships.

title is from where we go by jelani aryeh

The bathroom light is on.

It’s spilling underneath the door frame when you come in from work later than usual. It’s busy season, with new clientele - all of which require socializing around drinks and expensive dinners to secure them. It’s nearly 1am, and you’ve taken two Ubers to get back home from the restaurant all the way across town that you’ve been mingling at since nine.

You closed the deal though, and your boss (perhaps seeing the visible exhaustion in your eyes) has given you the go-ahead on taking a few days off. The consulting part of your financial advising job could wait until Monday, which was a relief to hear. You came home expecting Nightowl to be up. He’s always up this late, and when he is - he rarely limits himself to one room in the apartment. You have a routine to it. You sleep in the dark bedroom and Owl tries not to make so much noise as to wake you.

You texted him you’d be late, and he’d read it but didn’t reply. Too worn down to think anything of It at the time, you slept on two car rides rather irresponsibly and were unsure of what to feel when your apartment didn’t have any lights from the outside upon arrival. Youwalked in after that, wondering if your eyes had been playing tricks. But the house was still dark, both upstairs and down stairs - in the bedroom and in the office. The only place you could find any trace of life was in the bathroom.

You’ve only left your bag on the couch downstairs. Worry makes your brows furrow as you turn the door knob to your shared bathroom and walk in. The clinical scent of bleach is the first thing to grasp your senses, jolting you awake from the haze of steam and leftover buzz of alcohol.

You cough a little, and find Nightowl on the bathroom floor. There’s a bottle of peach soju on the counter, and a few open packets of developer and mixing bowls. Owl is drunk already you think, or at the very least tipsy, moreso than you. The hot blush on his skin makes you think he’s been at it for a while. You try not to monitor his liquor intake too much, but the concern you feel is immediate and not helped by where you find him.

His body is slumped against the gray wall closes to the tub, sitting on the tile with a different bottle in his hand. His phone is face down beside him and he’s not noticed you come in. Your frown deepens as your heels click slightly on the tile. Crouching down at the knee, you reach your hand out for his forehead. His skin is so hot it’s scorching. You sober up almost instantly.

Even in his inebriated state, he seems to recognize you. His smile is wide, but you don’t feel like it reaches his eyes.

“Oh, so you decided to come home after all!”

You smile sadly followed with a curt nod. “Sorry.”

“Don’t really see what the point is in you apologizing when you’ve already been so late,” He says jovial. You try not to let it sting. You remind yourself that he’s drunk and stifle a sigh again. “But welcome home!”

“Were you gonna bleach your hair?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Yeah,” You reply, choosing to sigh that time. His lip wobbles a little and you try not to say anything more. “Do you want help?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

You mumble something about being right back and Nightowl hums in affirmation. A feeling washes over you. Bone-deep exhaustion crushing your lungs and making you wheeze when you step out of the bleach-scented bathroom. When you’re distance enough away that he won’t hear you - closer to your bedroom door, you breathe in and out, calming yourself down. After you feel more centered, you open your shared room door and take a stool from along the wall, bringing it with you into the bathroom. Nightowl doesn’t turn his head to look at you until you place it. Sharing a glance with each other, he gets up on his own and sits himself on the placed stool dramatically and you give him a weak smile through the mirror he doesn’t bother returning.

You’re quiet as you leave the door open a touch to make sure the steam doesn’t overheat you both. Shrugging off your suit jacket, you fold it and hang it on the towel racks behind you. You unbutton your sleeves and roll them into neat folds on both arms, and before digging into one of your bathroom drawers for plastic gloves. Sliding them onto your manicured fingers, you pick up the bowl of developer from the side of the counter and mix it using the provided brush until it’s all smooth.

Nightowl is unusually silent through the entire thing. If he weren’t fidgeting, you could barely tell he was there. It’s so difficult to see him that way. You try not to blame yourself too much.

“Gonna start,”

“Uh-huh,”

A longing passes over you in the warm, sterile air. The coolness from the A.C. in the rest of your apartment dries down the sheen of sweat your accumulated while out socializing. Your feet are killing you and your shoulders are aching and your lungs feel like you can’t get enough air out of them. That’s busy season for you. The price of your job with all of it’s stability and benefits is the annual stretch of months where you are so busy you feel like you are drowning.

It’s one thing to be so mind-numbingly busy when you’re single and only worried about not dying. Another though to have a partner waiting for you, who you love and would like to be with - who you’ve admittedly not done well in paying attention to. You’ve tried you think. Made some attempts, but it doesn’t feel good enough and it certainly isn’t enough for Nightowl. You know that, too. You look down at where your hands are applying the bleach, dazed - using only muscle memory to apply it to the roots and strands of his hair. You want to touch him. To press kisses into his spine, drunk and elated, and press your cheek to his shoulder and confess your undying love until he’s giggly all over again.

The thought of adoration soothes you. Makes you smile to yourself even amongst the unforgiving atmosphere. Nightowl doesn’t care for that, his face growing even more frustrated.

“Thought of something fun? Glad at least one of us is having a good time.”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. He looks away when he sees how pained you look, and you shut your eyes trying not to react. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” He frowns, though he seems more sad than you.

“S—“ You clear your throat and laugh humorlessly at yourself. “Okay,”

You go about your business. Many things cross your mind but you can’t wrangle your thoughts into anything cohesive enough to say. Your jaw tightens a little, like your mouth wants to practice syllables it can’t remember. The distraction of rubbing bleach into Nightowls roots is welcome. His hair is a lot healthier than it used to be, after a year of forcing him to use hair masks. You admire as you brush through the strands, and Nightowl seems to lost in his own thoughts to say anything in protest. He probably hates this silence more than you. He’s uncharacteristically stiff, and there’s no smalltalk to distract from the surroundings.

You’re not feeling well enough to try and remedy it. Allowing yourself to stonewall and sit in the discomfort is about as much as you can do to reach a hand to your relationship. You probably can’t make it better, but you can do your best not to make it any worse.

“All done,” You mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. You slide the gloves off and toss them into the trash “We should sober up before bed. Hangover before bed sounds awful. Did you,” You hiccup. “Want some?”

He doesn’t reply to you. You press your lips into a flat line, feeling somewhat sorrowful but ultimately resigned. “I’ll make some anyway. And set a timer too while I’m down there. Just, uh - join me. When you’re done here.”

Before you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist. You’re taken aback by the sudden gesture (though there’s not force in it), turning around to look at him. His face is red. Wet tears pool on the corners of his straight, black lashes. Blinking a few times in surprise, you reach your hand to wipe them from the corners. Muscle memory. You find your love for him defined that way. He doesn’t flinch away from the touch, at least.

“Don’t you have something to say to me,” He insists. You frown in genuine confusion, a sad smile pulling at your mouth.

“Thought you told me to stop saying sorry,” You repeat with no malice, smiling a little. “That’s all I’ve got though.”

His lower lip trembles again and you try not to laugh. “God. How could you be so. God.” He sniffles a little. “You could cuss me out. Or like, I dunno, just get mad in general. You’re supposed to be mad, I was,” He cuts himself off.

You laugh a little tiredly, bending down to press your forehead to his. The flush of his skin against your own makes your heart murmur his name. “I don’t have anything to say, my heart.” You assure, smiling. “We’re both pretty tired. But I have tomorrow off. Let’s cool off and talk tomorrow. “Okay?”

“Okay,” He says back, still simmering. “As long as you’re here tomorrow.”

Your heart stings. “For the next two days, promise. I’ll toss my work phone if you want.”

He cracks a smile like that. “Might have to take you up on that, cutie.”

The familiar nickname eases you a bit, making you laugh. “Whatever you want.”

__

Morning comes unyielding and indifferent, like always.

Sunlight filters through the curtains as your eyes peel open and try to get adjusted to the light. There’s a weight on top of you, and the sound of steady breath. Another heartbeat thumps alongside yours and before you can make much sense of it - you catch the freshly yellow blond roots of your lover as he lays on your chest.

You went to bed last night not even facing each other. The image of him reaching around for you in his sleep and ending up in your arms feels like divine intervention. You admire how perfectly he fits there. Your eyes trace of his features. Thick, straight brows, skin like light gold, a straight nose and full lips. The shock of blonde suits him strangely, makes the dark lines of his other features pop. It’s rare you get to look at him so closely, even more so lately.

The intimacy of his flaws makes your stomach flutter, texture in his skin and eyebags and all. You crane your neck to kiss his hairline and think about returning to sleep in the cocoon of warmth. The cradle of soothes you, makes your eyelids heavy with sleep again. You think it’d be nice to sleep in more, but you don’t want to squander anymore time with Nightowl. Shifting, you pry yourself away from his grasp and tuck him into blankets. You’ll wake him later.

You’re quiet as you tiptoe around the house and get your affairs in order. The bathroom first to shower and brush your teeth, then downstairs to start on breakfast. You take the ritual of it to calm down and ease the leftover nerves of your stomach. It was better to save any conversation for sobriety - so you don’t regret it. Still, you feel a fear lingering. A nagging voice in the back of your head as you flip pancakes and cut fruit and pour juice.

The eerie silence of Saturday morning pushes you to reflect. It’s rare you fight like this. Even more rare that Nightowl reverts to that kind of angriness, which is why you find you can’t get upset. Not even the sound of sizzling and frying can keep your mind from wandering.

Inadequacy is familiar. An old winter jacket, too sizes too small and ill-fitting but full of your own personhood. One of the things you and Nightowl bonded over a long time ago.

You did well in school, in college, made a career for yourself. It’s making up for the rest of you, you think.

At least you’re good at your job, even if the rest of you is not worth mentioning. The ghost of feeling like you are, in some basic and intrinsic way, not good enough likes to shake you every now and again. Not friend, nor partner. It’s not something you easily get rid of, despite how far you’ve grown past it. Or around it. Or ahead of it. Wherever you’ve ended up, occasions come that knock the feeling loose from your deepest memories. You work hard to cover for it.

You like to logic your way out of the guilt when you’ve poured so much into it and people drift. A self-fulfilling prophecy. Usually that works. Tuck your emotions into neat compartments, throw yourself further into your work, don’t drink too heavily or be alone with anyone for too long. Ignore everything, do it by yourself so you’re still worth something, wait until it’s over. Eventually it all comes to pass, and you come out of the other end alive - but alone.

You can’t do that anymore though. It’s hard to remember that. Isolation is no longer the answer, because there is someone (multiple people, really) who will feel lonely without you. Even if it’s unfathomable to you, even if it’s hard to remember. The consequences creep up like this, and your left with the emotional void of making a bad situation worse. Sorry is the only word you know. There are so many things to be sorry for.

You’re so lost in thought you burn a pancake and have to toss it. You also seem to miss the presence of another person in your shared space until Nightowl comes and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Turning the heat down, you shift to face him. He looks exhausted but he must’ve come down after washing up.

“You’re awake.”

“Mhm.” He says, still sleepy. A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. “So are you. And you’re making me breakfast.”

You laugh. “I am. So, go sit down.” And then, a little more serious. “We have a lot to talk about but I’d rather do it on a full stomach.”

“We’re in an argument and you’re still taking care of me.” Sadness bleeds into his words.

You reply without skipping a beat, going back to the stove to pour some more batter. “Well, its not like I don’t love you anymore.”

There’s a long, long pause of silence that alarms you once you recognize it. Once you hear sniffling, you whip around again to see Nightowl weeping a little as he leans against the counter. Alarms go off in your head, once again turning the stove down. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely, bending down to get a closer look at him. He’s cover his face with his hands.

“Ugh,” His voice is thick and heavy. “Can you not be so nice and perfect and angelic? I’m trying really hard to be mad at you and I’m failing like a loser.”

You can tell there’s some sincerity in his words, though you ignore the first half of his statement. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

He pulls away then, looks at you incredulous. “You’re so,” His hands curl at your chest as you hug him slightly. You’re confused but don’t say anything. “God, you’re so frustrating.”

“Sorry,” You say apologetically. “Don’t mean to make you cry either. Feel like I’m going that a lot. We should really eat.”

“Don’t want to,” He whines a little as he says. “Just. I want to kiss and makeup already.”

You smile a little before humming.

“We should talk about it, then.”

Nightowl just nods, and you take that as permission to just go. You do your best to get the words out.

“I really love you,” You say first, and then sigh. Nightowl clings onto you tighter and listens instead of interjecting, which must mean he’s feeling serious. “And uhm, was already feeling bad about myself. And then I got busy which made it worse cause I couldn’t really you know… be there for you, so I ended up pulling away to figure it out alone and then got even busier. Which was isolating for you, and I’m sorry for that. It’s hard to like.. I dunno. Lean on you. On anyone.” You laugh a little. “Is that too vague?”

“It makes sense to me but…what were you feeling bad about, even?”

“Well I was busy before that, so I just felt shitty about being a bad partner to you. In general, don’t feel like I deserve you but then you know,” You sigh “It was shitty of me.”

“Are you kidding me?” He says. His face is twisted in a pout. “You’re seriously being all mopey ‘cause you think you’re a bad partner when you’re like… literally the best ever? Like, that I’ve ever had?”

You’re too surprised to say anything. “Is that not why were arguing?”

“I mean,” His frown deepens, and he presses his face against your chest. “Ugh. So embarrassing. I am upset because you’re so busy and we haven’t spent time together but that’s like… totally not your fault, yknow? I’m being super clingy and I was just… really lonely yesterday.”

“Sorry for making you feel lonely.”

“Stop apologizing or I’m gonna bite you, ‘kay cutie?” He says seriously. You relent with a worrisome smile and encourage him to keep going. “I was getting like… all pathetic. Cause I thought you didn’t want me anymore, didn’t even occur to me something was wrong. I’m so sorry about that, about all of it - god. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you. I hate that it still gets so bad when we've been together so long. I just missed you so fucking much. And I think so highly of you, I couldn’t help but be all torn up about the idea that you were pulling away cause you didn’t want me.”

“I do want you. I’m just surprised you want me sometimes.”

“You’re dumb,” He whispers with no bite at all. “That’s my line. You’re like literally perfect to me.”

“So we got in a fight ‘cause we needed to be with each other,” You say with a long pause, then laugh. “How silly.”

“Guess so,” He says back with a little frown. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay,”

You share a brief moment of comfortable, understanding silence. It feels easier to breathe. Even though it’s messy and foolish, you love being with him. It makes you feel real and whole - wanted to be missed that much.

“I missed you too by the way,” You reply with utmost sincerity. “Only thing I thought of all night was how much I wanted to hold you.”

“You’re making me blush.” He says with a loopy little smile. “Y’mean that?”

“More than anything.” You reply. “I like being with you. I like taking care of you. I like that you’re needy and jealous and temperamental.”

“Stopppp,” He groans and you laugh aloud, leaning forward to place a kiss on his jaw. “Not that I hate being told what you like about me but it’s making my tummy flutter.”

“I like loving you,” You say with some finality. “I feel really shitty when I feel like I’m failing at it because I take pride in being good at that.”

“Jeez,” His face is bright pink when you pull away. “You shouldn’t think of yourself so little, yanno? Not that this is a surprise but yesterday I was like, totally acting awful to you. I really am sorry I let it get that bad, I was just really worked up. Even right now you make me so happy, it feels a little unfair to me. I want to be with you all the time. So sometimes when I can’t I just get like… awful. And stupid. And want to throw a bunch of dumb tantrums about it.”

You nod in understanding. “It did hurt my feelings but I really didn’t feel like it was undeserved.”

“It was totally undeserved!”

You crack a little smile. “Agree to disagree?”

He grabs your face with both hands, knocking your foreheads together. “It was undeserved, no take backs. I’m sorry I hurt you and always will be. Stop being so nitpicky about yourself, kay? I’m literally crazy about you.”

“Me too,” You crane your neck to kiss his palm where it cradles your face. “I adore you, baby.”

“I like being adored by you,” He says with a sweetness that makes your heart melt. “I like loving you too of course, but attention is… nice. You know.”

He makes a face at you as you say this that you can only describe as a grin, before pushing himself forward to press a long kiss to your lips. You laugh a little into, smile splitting your face at the intensity he kisses you at first thing in the morning. Over and over, pulling and pushing - giggling as you chase his mouth as he pulls away.

“We kissed but I dunno if we’ve made up,” He says. Concern briefly passes over your expression. “Got some really good ideas about how we could do that.”

You give him a flat look but can’t contain your laughter.

“We should really eat breakfast,”

He puts a hand at the top of your waistband with lidded eyes and smiles. “There’s something else I wanna eat first though?”

You pretend to be exasperated.

“Jesus. We just made-up and you wanna fuck already?”

“Duh. That’s like, the best part,”

You snort. “We’ll go once and then I’m making you eat breakfast even if I have to force it down your throat.”

“Ooh, feeling rough I see,”

You snort. “Yeah, guess so.” You shoot him a little look, leaning into whisper and nip at his ears. “On your knees for me, baby.”

He giggles a little, giddy with mischief in his face. “Mmkay,”

He presses a cheek to your clothed thigh, lovesick. “I love you,”

You can’t help but laugh at his choice of when to say it and simply reply back in full adoration. “I love you too, my heart.”

a/n ; ANOTHER AUTHORS NOTE? sorry for being the ceo of yapping im insane

i just want to like. give some insight on this fight bc im worried it seems onesided. reader has low self esteem and really beats themself over their own expectations in everything. they isolate when they're overwhelmed and work was already doing that to them. and then things got busier, which meant there wasn't really time to repair the relationship between them which is why nightowl gets as mad as he does.

nightowl is deathly afraid of being unloved and abandoned, and he get a little caught up in his self hate that they fail to realize something is going on with their partner. so he lashes it out and it feels warranted but he gets like guilty bc reader doesn't react to the goading any differently

i think nightowl is a very complicated but incredibly familiar character. he's a little selfish but i find him incredibly endearing and i have a strong desire to dote on him and monopolize him. which was the intent for this fic. but i ended up just exploring real life relationship dynamics between a character like this. very selfless x selfish. they love each other and find fulfillment in this. i love them.

[neteyamssock]

NOT SO BAD, AFTER ALL.

╰┈➤ PART V.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 2.9k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

a/n: this is so meh lmao. unedited. will edit later tho!

text dividers credits to @/cafekitsune

masterlist

part iv | part vi

PART V.

“Like you brother. I was asking tsmuke if she likes you…” Tsireya smiled forcefully, walking towards Ao’nung.

You felt your breath constrict, you cannot look him in the eye. You’re afraid, thinking that this is your consequences of letting your heart rule over your actions. The warning of the Tsahik was still fresh in your mind.

Ao’nung noticed your peculiarity, but Tsireya’s words quickly grabbed all his attention. After a few seconds that seems forever to you, you heard him sneer. “She’s just saying that, whatever. ”

You felt yourself relaxing. This is the first time you were glad that Ao’nung is a lot more dumb than you thought. If he was a lot smarter, then this could’ve been a lot worse.

Tsireya also relaxed as you and her exchanged glances. As Tsireya and Ao’nung talk, you heard that Ao’nung had finally apologized to Lo’ak, and didn’t seem as disgusted with the second sully boy. You were not aware what had transpired between Ao’nung and Lo’ak, but it seems that Lo’ak had finally proven himself to Ao’nung and earned his respect. You felt bitter when you came to a conclusion. It’s neteyam he’s not willing to be close to.

“He’s a skxawng, but he saved me from father and mother’s anger. Unlike someone else.”

You ignored his pointed stare. You are not his savior, it is not your duty to protect him from the consequences of his mistakes.

“Stop blaming tsumuke, Ao’nung. She was scolded by mother too.” Tsireya came into your defense, which you are grateful for.

Ao’nung’s eyes widened. He didn’t know, that’s for sure.

You didn’t really care. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, fear of being caught has not yet left your system. Before standing up to prepare more medicinal plants, you shot Tsireya a grateful glance for saving you. You cannot imagine how chaotic it would be once the truth is revealed.

I owe you life, sister. I hope I can repay this in the future.

Both neteyam and lo’ak got grounded. You don’t what it meant until Kiri and Tuk came to play with you and explained that the brothers were ordered to stay inside their marui without going outside for a few days. Kiri said that Neteyam got grounded because he failed on watching over lo’ak, and although you felt it was unfair to Neteyam, you remained silent. Jakesuli is their father, he has the right to do what he thinks is right for his family.

You tried hard to hide the loss in your face but Kiri could read you quite easily as she patted your back. “Don’t think so much. He’ll be fine, it’s just being stuck inside the marui until Dad finally calms down. If you miss him, I could sneak you in once Mom and Dad are out.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you shook your head. “N-no need. I’m not desperate…”

“If Tsireya can, and so can you.” She cut you off, making you gasp.

“Tsireya sneaked in?!”

“Couldn’t stand not seeing Lo’ak, so she asked me for help.” Kiri and Tuk snickered to each other, while you remained shocked.

After a few seconds, you shook your head with a smile. Tsireya has really fallen head over heels over the second sully boy. It makes you wonder if the Tsahik even knows this. There’s an immediate answer. Of course she knows. You even had a suspicion that the Tsahik already had doubts about you and neteyam. You are scared for you and neteyam if someone ever discovers what’s brewing between you and the oldest sully boy, but alongside that fear was the feeling of thrill; the excitement of going against the waves for the first time in your life.

“So what do you say?” Kiri asked you again when she finished laughing with Tuk. You hesitated because it might get the two girls in trouble.

“It must be Eywa’s plan to separate us two for a while…” You started, the words of the Tsahik still fresh in your mind. You don’t want any trouble coming Neteyam’s way as you had troubled him enough.

Kiri seemed to understand and didn’t push anymore. Tuk looked confused but knew she’s not in the right age to participate in this situation and could only hope that everything settles down soon.

You knew they were at the shore, but you didn’t come because you knew Ao’nung’s doubt. You told Kiri to tell Neteyam about it, and she promised to convey your message to Neteyam. You felt bad, but you firmly believe you are doing it for Neteyam. Unless you clean your own mess, you cannot let anybody know about you and Neteyam, because you know that it would ruin him more than you. He’d be an outcast, a disgraceful man that came after a promised girl. He’s too kind, too perfect for that. He doesn’t deserve that.

You told him you can. So you would. You began to prepare yourself for what you are about to do.

You heard that Lo’ak was saved by the rouge tulkun, payakan. It was almost unbelievable, but the mere presence of Lo’ak is the proof that his words were true. Tsireya believed everything he said. Although Lo’ak seem upset when everyone tried to convince him that payakan is a danger.

You missed Neteyam so much, but you persevered. You cannot mess this up. So the only thing you did that can comfort you in his absence was visiting your secret place. Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Neteyam sitting alone in the marui, looking at you as if he knew you would come.

“...Teyam,” You almost sobbed. You missed him so much. Without hesitation, Neteyam pulled you in his arms.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t come.” His voice quivered. He was afraid, afraid that you suddenly woke up and regretted whatever’s going on between the two of you. He tried so hard to stop himself from coming to you himself when Kiri told him that you wouldn’t see him for a while.

“I’m sorry, Teyam. I didn’t mean…”

Neteyam shook his head. “I know, reef girl. You know I wouldn’t force you to do things you are not ready for. We have a lot on our shoulders, both of us.”

You smiled despite feeling pain in your chest. “I shouldn’t be seeing you. I-I’m afraid that Ao’nung will use this to pick a fight with you.”

Neteyam looked at you, “He can pick a fight with me as many times as he wants, I would gladly accept it if it means being with you.”

You knew he was telling the truth, no falsehood in his words. But picking up a fight wouldn’t be the only thing Ao’nung would demand from Neteyam. His life as well. No na’vi would simply look away from the fact that their prospective mate is in love with another man.

Yes, you finally admit that you have fallen in love with Neteyam. You don’t know what love means, but you have never felt this feeling you have for Neteyam for anyone else. You cannot look away from it, you cannot run from it, and no matter how you tried to ignore it its there to haunt you all the time. You knew you cannot stop it unless you dug out your heart.

You leaned in his arms, looking at the bright bioluminescent freckles on Neteyam’s chest. You wish you could kiss them but you’re too cowardly to act on these desires. He seem to notice the fascination in your eyes as he kissed your hair.

“Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes, you never expected that Neteyam would hide such cocky nature. He should be thankful to Eywa that he had something to live up to his arrogance. You wonder how many forest girls would be seething just by seeing you in his arms.

“Have you ever sneaked out with a girl before?” You heard yourself asking. To your surprise, he shook his head.

“Back in the forest, those things aren’t my priority, you know? I am the future olo-eyktan, used to be, and I have my siblings to look out for. This is the first time that I actually dare to accompany a girl deep in the eclipse.” His chest vibrated as his speak, making you smile as you leaned your face into his neck.

“I also never thought I’d do this, you know? I have never thought about it until I met you.”

“The ever dutiful tsakarem,” He teased.

“Ah, the ever dutiful son of Toruk Makto.”

Both of you laughed. You slowly separated from Neteyam as you took out a bracelet from your satchel.

“Here, i-i made it for you. I hope you like it.” It was something you weaved while you were avoiding Neteyam and locking yourself in your marui. The shiny shells and beads made from the roots of mangrove trees were something you have been collecting since you were a child, once dreaming of weaving something for your future mate.

You felt so complicated that you didn’t hesitate in taking some of those shells and beads you have painstakingly collected to make something for Neteyam.

“This… this is so beautiful. T-thank you.”

You felt amused seeing his darkening cheeks, glad that you had an effect on him like he has to you. You stared at his golden eyes, hoping he’d meet yours, hoping for him to understand what you want him to understand, what you wanted to convey but cannot speak of.

You weren’t disappointed, as he stared back at you with the same intensity and all your doubts settled. You communicated through your eyes, thousands of words yet none spoken.

You didn’t know how it started when your lips danced with his, matching each other’s rhythm with so much fervor. Your hand sneaked into his neck and to his braids as he kissed you like no tomorrow. At this moment you finally understand everything, from the moment you met Neteyam at the shore of awa’atlu. He’s everything you weren’t, everything you ever wanted. A promise of freedom, a taste of romance.

When your lips separated from his both of you were heaving, his arm possessively wrapped around your waist. You looked at his eyes full of burning desire, and you couldn’t help but to kiss him again.

He stopped you. “That’s enough, reef girl.” He chuckled as his thumb rubbed your lower lips, voice hoarse. “Wouldn’t want the Tsahik killing the both of us, because i don’t know if I can stop if we continue.”

You pushed him playfully and stood up, you know you must go. “I must go, forest boy. The Tsahik may visit my marui tonight and it would be bad if she does not see me there.”

Neteyam also stood up, staring at you tenderly before taking your hand into his. “I can do it, reef girl. Just ask me, and I’d do everything and you don’t have to do anything—”

You covered his mouth. “I cannot. It’s unfair to you.”

“But this is also my business. It’s OUR business.”

“Look at me, Neteyam.” You cupped his face with your hands. “This would not work if its only you fighting. We should deal with it together, side by side.”

In one fine day, you and Tsireya has finally decided to bring the Sully’s into the Cove of Ancestors, the most sacred place in awa’atlu. You have missed your parents terribly, and wanted answers and guidance from them, thus you find this as an opportunity. Perhaps your mother could give you the answers you were looking for.

Ao’nung was grumbling about it, but at least he wasn’t as mean as before. He talks with Lo’ak in a more relaxed way, as he had learned to respect Lo’ak due to the incident from before. He also formed an unlikely friendship with Kiri, the one he’s always picking on before. Although it was more of a love and hate friendship rather than a healthy friendship. It’s still a win though, for this friendship ended the constant fights between Neteyam and Ao’nung.

“Come ride with me?” You asked Neteyam as you called your ilu, smiling when he subtly touches your tail with his fingers.

“I have my own ilu, you know?” He chuckles as he makes his way towards you. Whispering, he asked. “Can’t part with me even for a second?”

Your face warmed as you looked away. “I only need a yes or no, but you already said a lot of nonsense.”

Everyone noticed the two of you dawdling about as Tuk screamed, “Hurry up guys!”

So without waiting for his answer, you rode your ilu and caught up with the others. You heard Neteyam snicker behind you as you rolled your eyes, finding it hard to believe how much influence he has on you.

Lo’ak and Tsireya had gotten much closer, that you noticed. Those touches, both intentional and unintentional, were becoming more and more apparent. It makes you wonder, were you and Neteyam like them too? Do people ever notice when Neteyam’s hand would brush against your tail, his fingers trail on your spine? His lips ghosting on your ears?

“Are you okay?” Neteyam asked you as he rode his ilu right next to you. Looking at your absentminded appearance, he’s worried his simple teasing provoked your anger. If not for Ao’nung eyeing the two of you from time to time, he might have jumped from his ilu to your, hugging you to his chest.

“I’m fine, I’m just thinking about Lo’ak and Tsireya. It seems that there’s going to be celebration of engagement soon.” You giggled to yourself before your lips stiffened when you catch a glimpse of a wistful smile from Neteyam.

“Ah, that skxawng finally bagged something for himself. A spirit brother and a beloved person.”

You smiled at Neteyam’s words, albeit hurting from the inside. You envy Tsireya who can proudly tell everyone about Lo’ak, while you can only keep Neteyam a secret like some clandestine affair. “....When the tulkuns come back, I’ll take you to meet my spirit sister. She would adore you.” Like I do.

“That would be nice, I hope she won’t toss me to an akula.” Both of you laughed as you raced together to catch up with the rest.

Diving underwater to connect with the spirit tree requires a diving partner. Almost immediately both Ao’nung and Neteyam swam towards you.

“I’m her diving partner,” Ao’nung signed to Neteyam. Before the oldest sully can answer, you waved at Ao’nung.

“I’m going to teach him how to bond with the spirit tree. Just go do your thing.”

With a doubtful gaze, Ao’nung swam away towards Roxto. Looking at his back, you exchanged glances with Neteyam which made him almost laugh out loud. You surface when you’re out of breath. I’ll be fine. You signed to Neteyam which he nodded.

You took your kuru and slowly did tsaheylu with the glowing tendrils of the spirit tree.

Your parent’s marui was the first thing you saw, followed by your parents sitting side by side as your father sharpens his spear, and your mother weaves.

Tears fell one by one, you cannot even call their name. You can not open your mouth to call them, you can only sob.

“Baby girl? What’s wrong, why are you crying?”

“Ma sa’nok! Ma sempul!”

“What’s wrong, what made you so sad?”

It's been a long time since you last saw them. You never really visit the spirit tree much, afraid to see them. Afraid of their reaction to what you had become. You're afraid they would resent you for not following your grandfather’s heart.

“I missed you,” You whispered between your sobs, hugging them tightly to convey your flooding emotions. They hugged you back with the same intensity.

“We miss you too, but tell me, baby girl, what’s on your mind? What makes you so conflicted?”

You began to relay the events to your parents, from the moment you were arranged to Aonung, to the arrival of the Sully family into awa’atlu, to the budding feelings you had with Neteyam, and your determination to end the arrangement done by your grandfather.

You expected your parents to lash out, to express their disappointment, and their protests against your relationship with Neteyam.

But what you didn't expect was a kiss on your forehead.

“Syulang, your grandfather loves you more than anything in the world. So whatever your decision will be, I’m sure he wouldn't be mad at you. Always follow your heart, no matter what.”

Your mother had tears in her eyes as she gazed at you. There's pride in their eyes as they look at you in a new light. You have now grown up and ready for the new chapter of your life.

They might not be there anymore, but they're always watching over you. Proud for your achievements, with you in your failures, and supports all your decisions wholeheartedly.

“Baby girl, life is finite. Do what your heart calls for. Eywa will bless your kind heart.”

With a gasp, you opened your eyes and saw Neteyam looking at you worriedly. Both of you quickly surfaced as you took in deep breaths.

Neteyam patted your back, concern palpable in his eyes. “Are you okay, ocean girl?”

You smiled as you turned towards him, giving him the happiest smile you could ever muster. “They support me, neteyam. They said I should do what my heart calls for.”

We can finally be together. We can finally make it official. Neteyam will officially be mine.

Neteyam laughed, relieved at your bright countenance. “Congratulations, ocean girl. You're finally getting what you are dreaming for.”

You flicked his forehead as both of you bobbed up and down in the water. “It’s also your victory as much it’s mine, forest boy.”

[catiuskaa]

this close to begging

SUMMARY: an angsty tension formed out of pent-up feelings. a mix of alcohol, changbin and you might find just the way of solving it.

WC: 1.6k

CW: swearing, angsty feelings, drinking, drunk oral sex (f rec.), mentions of degradation and size kink, use of nicknames: bubs, my love, bunny, recreational use of pussydrunk!changbin because I say so, why not, and I think that’s all, folks! (pls tell me if I missed anything!)

TAGGING! @ur-boyfiends-reading, from a fellow seolar <3 hope you like it! (feel no pressure at all if it isn’t your kind of thing tho)

[◾️☆💠☆◾️]

You hadn’t meant it. Of course you hadn’t.

You had been fed up with everyone’s bullshit in the past week. Dealing with the cons of dating an idol was usually fine, but added to the recent stress in your minimum-wage job, with your boss constanltly prancing around and making everyone’s mood so fucking crispy, roaming and firing people in several departments— including yours.

Let’s just say you weren’t in your best of days. Or… weeks.

And Changbin, well, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him just yet. Or to talk. Much to your and his despair, his schedule had also been against you seeing each other. Always full to the brim. Packed to the infinity.

You had barely seen him the past week. Maybe even the one before, which didn’t help at all with your current exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t an excuse for the argument that stroke between both of you. You couldn’t point out who or what had started it, but the tension made the focal point of the loud discussion change.

“Leave me the fuck alone for a minute, okay!? You’re always clinging to me like a desperate little bitch.”

You froze, hands slightly trembling after those lies came out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant it, at all. You loved your smol little cuddly Binnie. You loved how you would usually wake up with his hands beneath your shirt as he pampered your face and neck with kisses, his hair messy and fluffy and his face puffy from sleep. You couldn’t figure in your head how that sentence had come off. You couldn’t understand it.

Still, for both his and your sanity, you had moved from your shared bed to the first floor, and locked yourself inside the guest’s room, which was never really used by anyone else than the rest of the members whenever they wanted to stay the night.

After you entered the spare room, you heard a ruffle of sorts and then the loud slam of the main door closing.

And since then, a couple of hours had passed.

You didn’t have the heart to text or apologize. You wouldn’t know where to start, and being honest, you weren’t sure he was going to forgive you. In your mind, that was totally plausible and justifiably so.

Where could Changbin gone? Your chest tightened, not daring to get out. What if he had left to stay elsewhere? No, Chan would’ve texted you.

Right?

You sighed, slowly banging your head against the door behind you, feeling the guilt spread through your body.

Brushing off the tears on your cheeks, you stood up, shaking your head, and decided to step out and head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

The silence in the apartment was killing you slowly. Usually, as loud as he could be, Changbin would leave traces of where he was or what he was doing with small sounds. Like the little giggles when he was texting the members. The loud cackles when he watched instagram reels, and the proud snicker when he encountered edits of himself. The low humming when a song got stuck in his head, there it be one of his own creations or the ones he listened to. The small thuds as he practiced choreographys in his study, for tiktok trends or for Felix’s enjoyment.

Now, it was just silence as you sipped from he mug. It was probably not a good idea to have coffee past one am, but you didn’t care.

And then, you heard the struggles of a drunk man trying to open the door.

You hesitated. He was a mess when he was drunk, but now he’d probably be mad. And you kind of deserved it.

Shaking your head, you opened the door, and his body, slightly taller than yours, fell like a puppet, his head nuzzling into your neck as his arms closed around your waist.

“Bubs, y-you’re so preettty,” he sniffed. He was… crying? “Ah… I- m-missed you, sooo, so muchh…” he trailed off, his eyes teary.

You tried to craddle his face or to move him away, and failed to guide him upstairs.

“N-no!” He refused, tightening his grip around you.

“My love, you should go to bed.” You mentioned softly.

His eyes widened, and his head shot up, his hands now cradling your face.

“W-what did you just say?” He muttered. “D-don’t say that. If you… do that… n-no…”

You blinked, pouting unconciously.

“What, baby?” He shivered under your touch when your hands softly grabbed his wrists.

“Remember how… I uh… said that… alcohol… uh…”

The intense blush in his face made you almost jump in your place, your eyebrows shot up slightly.

You were unable to control a smile that creeped from underneath. “My love…” you started, and he almost whimpered. “Are you getting horny?” You whispered, and he nodded against your neck.

“You… you’re just s’prettyy… ‘n you keep wearing my clothes…” his fingers started to trail patterns, slowly riding up an old hoodie of his that you had most definetely stolen.

You licked your lips.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah? Lemme take care of you.”

His body fell on the bed like dead weight. His eyes were closed, his features so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

You started taking his shoes off, followed by his socks, because you knew he hated sleeping with them on.

Changbin sighed, and you stopped.

“Bubs, please,” his hand tugged your sleeve. “P-please… just. Just… this once. ‘M so sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll talk to the company or something.” He blabbered messily, and tugged your sleeve harder, swiftly taking your other arm and pulling towards him, making you fall on top of him.

He brushed a couple of stray hairs from your face, and you struggled you find a comfortable position to lie on him.

“B-bunny, w-wait.” His hands stopped your waist. “Fuck, I need you. Please. I know ‘m drunk… just…” his features scrunched up, thinking.

“Love…” you started.

“Wait, I know!” He blurted out. “Just lemme taste you.” He smiled, breathing against your lips, in a way that you could almost taste what he had drinked earlier.

“W-what?”

He whined. “You always taste s’good, bubs. Please. Binnie need this, pleaaase…” he trailed off, peppering messy kisses on your neck.

You felt him harden underneath you as you thought for an answer.

“But we had a fight, love. I don’t want you to do this and feel wrong about it tomorrow.” You said lowly, biting your lip. “Are you sure about this?”

“I know, I know. ‘m drunk, sure, but you still taste so fucking good ‘nd look like a goddess. Thinking I’ll regret this ‘s bullshit.” He mumbled against your skin.

You got lost in thought, and he took that in advantage, rolling his hips against yours.

“You said you’d take care of me,” he whimpers lowly, his voice hoarse. “Kiss me.” Changbin licked his lips, his mouth dry. “Please.”

There was an urgency, a burning desire that crashed through your body as his lips devoured yours after a shy nod. Each touch of his lips sent ripples of warmth through your body, making both of you more hot and bothered as it grew in intensity. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of emotions conveyed through the mixture of breaths. A way of apologizing from before and a form of drunk reassurance.

The taste was a mixture of the drinks he had taken and your flavoured chapstick, tongues clashing against one another as his hands moved to your waist and turned both of you. With his figure over yours, he parted your legs with soft strokes on your thigh, leaning in, unable to separate from your lips, taste stronger and more addicting than any drink he could’ve found over at the bar.

When you broke apart, a thin strand of drool followed your lips, and without missing a beat, Changbin licked it clean. You panted, your hand on his chest as both of you stared at each other, eyes, lips, taking in the other’s untamed beauty. It was a moment suspended in time, entering your shared bubble back in what felt like months of craving.

Changbin went right back, biting your bottom lip, trailing lustful kisses down your neck, taking your and his clothes off as if they burned, nonchalantly throwing them elsewhere.

“So good, my cute little bunny… already wet, huh?” He snickered, leaving marks on your neck and trailing dow, playfully biting the inside of your thighs. “Binnie’ll make ya feel s’good.”

His kisses started to get closer and closer to your core, making your sigh impatiently, whimpering. He cooead at you, and planted a teasing kiss on your cunt.

You squirmed on your place. “B-binnie…!”

“Shhh, bunny. S’okay.” Changbin smirked slyly, dragging his tongue on you in languid strokes. He grunted when you started moaning louder, your hands now in his hair, his mouth spread wide on you.

As you started babbling in pleasure, he started making out with your sloppy cunt more vigorously, tugging at your thighs, like he wanted to be crushed by them.

“Y’know, fuck…” he moans, and it travels all through your body. “when ya said I was a desperate lil’ bitch… fuck… made me so horny…”

He stared at you from in between your legs. “Binnie’s such a desperate slut for bunny, huh?”

He spread you open with two slender finger, moaning just by feeling how small you are and how you clenched around his fingers, imagining how tight you'd be around him, and he started grinding against the matress unconciously.

He stops grinding when you moan his name and grasp his hair, and lets you ride his face as you reel in pleasure.

You whine when his kisses get too intense and he comes up, his arousal all over his lips and chin, kissing you with all tongue and teeth, allowing you to taste yourself.

“We’ll keep going in the morning,” he panted. “Can’t have enough of you.” Changbin murmured against your neck, falling asleep with you.

~kats, who wrote this while blasting ‘careless whisper’ on her headphones just to see how far she could take it.

THINK I DID OK AS MY FIRST ACTUAL SMUT?!

[msbigredmachine]

On Sight - The Finale (Jey Uso/OC)

The fact that we hate each other don’t mean we can’t fuck. Just don’t fall in love with me. The finale of my 4-part Jey Uso/OC series.

Warnings: Smut, toxic behavior, angst

Word count: 7.8k

A/N: This is it. It breaks my heart so much that I’ve finished this. Can’t say much else, other than enjoy! 😥

For some reason I had Mariah Carey’s “My All” playing while I edited this and it made me emosh. Still not sure why. 

ON SIGHT - THE MASTERLIST

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Part 4 - ALL?

The following month went by in one big blur. There was literally no time for you to get any rest especially when WrestleMania week finally arrived. You seemed to be doing several different things all at once and it was threatening to overwhelm you. On top of that, all your hard work was being hampered by an illness that seemingly emerged from nowhere, no doubt thanks to all the stress from prepping for the biggest show of the year along with the Jey drama. You just wished for everything to be over and done with so you could finally get a good night’s sleep and maybe a COVID test in case it was that serious. 

Your hectic schedule for this week included Walemania, hosting the Hall of Fame ceremony and both kick-off shows for the two-night extravaganza. Honestly, it was a good thing, as your busyness prevented you from running into Jey. Well, except at Walemania, and even then, you kept a considerable distance from him, and you only hung around for about an hour before apologizing to Wale and leaving the event. 

Sadly, there was no escaping him on the final Smackdown before Mania, as you had to conduct one final sit-down interview with the current Tag team champions. It was excruciating. Your brain and your heart were two warring factions; your heart still craved him, yearned for him, but your brain opined that you were better off without him. You didn’t know what to choose. 

Though he exuded his customary macho, snarling demeanor, you could still see, sitting across from him, that he was equally as tortured as you were. He barely looked you in the eye and let Jimmy do most of the talking. As much as your body ached to hug him and kiss him and forgive him, your brain scoffed and admonished you for being such a simp for him. Once the director gave the all-clear, he mumbled something to Jimmy before leaping out of his chair and hurrying out of the room. At last, you could breathe again, although it took an effort to blink away the tears and swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat. Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you realized Jimmy was by your side, a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

“Ay, don’t worry, sis,” he said kindly, pulling you into a hug you didn’t know you needed. “You two will kiss and make up when the time's right.”

You scoffed sadly, your eyes on the door your ex-lover just left from. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.” 

“Naw, you will,” Jimmy affirmed confidently. “I seen the way my brother looks at you, and the way you look at him. Y’all don’t realize how much you love each other and how perfect you are for each other. Every love goes through its ups and downs, ya know? This ain’t no different.” He smiled. “You’ll work it out. Y’all are meant to be.”

------------------

By the end of Night One, you were running on fumes and just about ready to drop from exhaustion. But somehow, the excitement in the air propelled you, from the fans inside the jam-packed stadium to the wrestlers themselves. You were most excited for Jey, though. Your heart soared with pride and happiness as he made his way down the ramp with Jimmy for their very first main event. He had voiced his concerns to you that he wouldn’t get that spot, that it would go to another match on the card. But you strongly believed all along that the main event was his. The storyline called for it. His hard work over the last three years called for it, and you loved it so much for him.

Sitting with Becky and Seth in their skybox as Roman and Cody battled in the ring to close out Night Two, you were sipping on some iced tea when Becky leaned close to you. “Oh, by the way, congrats babe, I’m so excited for you,” she whispered out of the blue.

You glanced at her, perplexed. Did you get a promotion that you didn’t know about? “Congrats on what? And why are you whispering?”

“Because I figured you’re keeping it quiet, that’s why you haven’t said anything. The fuckery from the dirt sheets was bad enough. But don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”

Now you were really confused. “Okay, what are you talking about? I’m completely lost.” 

“Sweetie, you’ve had that glow about you for weeks now. It’s all over your face. Are you telling me you don’t know you’re…” The Irishwoman paused, studied your baffled features in amazement. “Seriously? You really don’t know?”

You felt your insides plummet. “Don’t know what? Spit it out, Becks,” you said impatiently, getting agitated.

Becky leaned even closer, the match abruptly forgotten at this point. “Let me ask you something, dear. Are you throwing up all the time nowadays?” she interrogated, “Are you always feeling tired or dizzy lately? What about your period?”

After racking your brain and realizing this was your life for the last several days, you could only stare back at her, dumbstruck.

Becky grabbed her phone and typed frantically. “I’ll get you a test right now. First Response or Clearblue? I recommend the latter.”

Your eyes filled with tears. 

-------------------

“Yo, Uce, you listenin’ to me?”

His brother’s voice yanked him back to reality, interrupting his forlorn, doleful scrolling through his Camera Roll for pictures of you and him together. Jey directed tired eyes towards his twin. "Huh? Whatchu say?"

Jimmy kissed his teeth and shook his head. “Man, you can’t go on like this, Uce. You a mess, moping around distracted as hell.” 

Jey put his phone away with a sigh. “I’m fine,” he insisted. But it was a damn lie. Jimmy was right. He was a complete emotional wreck and couldn’t think straight to save his life these days. Even worse, it was like you had fallen off the face of the earth. He had not seen you since WrestleMania. No one was saying anything either, and as heartbroken as he was, he still found space in his heart to be worried about you and your well-being.

"You're not fine, Uce. You miss her. You're looking at pictures of her right now. And from what I've seen, she misses you too. A lot." said Jimmy.

Jey felt his insides clench. “Yeah, right. She hates me.”

“No she don’t. She feels the exact same way you do, otherwise she woulda brushed you off a long time ago. Y’all love each other but you're both too stubborn to see it. You still messin’ with that Diamond chick?”

“Nah.” That shit ended as quickly as it started, to his relief. No one could hold a candle to you.

“Thank God, cuz that shit was not it. Go get your girl back, Uce. Make things right with her.” 

So much easier said than done. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t know where she is. I ain’t seen her in two weeks. I think she blocked me,” Jey replied, his low tone laced with misery.

Casting a quick, cautious glance around the busy catering area, Jimmy dragged his chair closer to his brother. “Look, I heard she asked for some time off, so maybe she’s at her parents’ house, I dunno. But that’s not all I heard about her…I don’t know if it’s true, but…” Stopping himself short, he shook his head. “You need to find her and talk to her. But not before making a real, sincere gesture to win her back; something you gotta do the right way.”

“Like what?”

“Flowers, presents, chocolate, the works. Something super romantic and special. And since you got bread, you max that shit out. Pull out all the stops. And don’t forget to grovel. It’s the least you can do for her, Uce.”

“Okay,” Jey nodded fervently. That sounded like a good idea. But one problem still remained. “But how do I get to her when I don’t even know where she is?”

“You might not, but she does.” 

Jey followed Jimmy’s extended arm, pointing at the buffet table where Kayla Braxton stood. Jey side-eyed his brother; he obviously wanted him dead. “That’s her ride-or-die, Uce. She’ll choke my ass out,” he said.

Jimmy shrugged. “Better talk to her nice, then.”

Sighing heavily, Jey weighed his options, realized he had none, and slowly got to his feet to make the long, daunting walk across the large room. This could either go well or go badly. He approached Kayla and tapped her shoulder. She turned around, her pleasant smile falling at the sight of the former Tag champ. With narrowed eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest.  

“What do you want?”

He grinned uneasily, decided it was inappropriate, and hastily wiped the smile off his face. "’Sup, Kayla…" he began nervously. 

She raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. Her fingers strummed impatiently against her bicep. He sighed, casting his gaze down to the floor for a second before looking back up at her, his eyes sad and imploring.

“I need your help with Y/N. Please. It’s really important.” 

Kayla raised her chin challengingly. “Why? So you can hurt her again?”

“No, the opposite. I wanna make things right with her. I have a plan, but I can’t execute it alone. That’s why I’m here, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out. This time, whatever you want, you got it. Please, K.”

For a few moments, her countenance didn't change, making Jey sweat under her scrutinizing glare. Then, she spoke.

“What do you have in mind?”

-------------------------

You flushed the toilet, rose to your feet and moved to the sink to rinse your mouth. You were over it at this point. You felt so fatigued and lethargic. Over the last few weeks you had little motivation to do anything, and now you knew why. Even as you got dressed to head out, all you wanted to do was sleep. You were sluggish, worn out, and...sad. The literal, walking embodiment of ‘fuck around and find out’.

You kept trying to pinpoint exactly when it happened. Surely it wasn’t any of the numerous times you and Jey fucked each other like starved animals. All the signs kept pointing to your last night at Key West. 

The scented candles. The soft music. The open roof where you could both see the stars illuminating the beach below. He took you slowly, intimately. You could vividly remember his moans against your throat as he thrusted into you with an easy pace, controlling your body like he always did. His hands all over you, massaging, caressing, guiding you to breaking point; his soft whispers about how good it felt to be inside you. The sweetest of kisses, the deepest of strokes, working you into a shuddering, whimpering mess. He’d held you all through the night with him still inside you, sealing what you thought had been a beautiful moment. In the morning, you did it all over again.

You could not recall taking your pill afterwards.

So irresponsible, and yet so heartbreakingly unforgettable.

You lugged your carryon behind you as you approached the Airbnb Kayla had booked for you. The ‘staycation extraordinaire’, she had called it. Three days of pampering and relaxation complete with a stocked kitchen, a hot tub and a fireplace for the colder nights. The house was beautiful, a quaint little A-frame cabin far away from the bustling city. You had a lot to think about and this seemed like the perfect place to gather your thoughts. And all on Kayla’s dime, too. Your friend was such a sweetheart.

You walked down the smooth pathway towards the deck outside the front door. Retrieving the key from the glove box, you unlocked the door, seconds away from finding the bedroom for a nap. You pushed inside, coming to a sudden halt at the sight that welcomed you.

It was the roses you saw first. Dozens of red roses in vases lining up both sides of the foyer. Little electric candles lit a runway ahead of you, creating a path for you to follow. Red rose petals were scattered on the floor for you to walk on. Stunned, you abandoned your bags and followed the trail, and the closer you got, the more you saw, the more the butterflies in your belly fluttered, even though you had no clue what was going on. 

Music played softly through the house, accentuating the ambience. You recognized the song as “Shame” by Tyrese. Its pleading lyrics spoke to you, the soft piano keys caressed your skin, lured you further inside the house. Your heart swelled coming upon the little vases standing alongside the scented candles on the floor, each containing a red rose. On entering the open plan living room, you stood stock-still, your body going slack, your heart hammering in your chest.

Right there, in the middle of the room, holding a big bouquet of red roses and a teddy bear in his hands, was Jey. Behind him was a wreath with the words “SORRY” spelled out in white and lavender flower petals and perched on the mantelpiece.

“Hey,” he greeted, his deep voice small and nervous.

Seeing him made you extremely emotional. His clothes fit him just right, his brooding face looked ever so sexy, and yet his eyes were so, so very sad. And judging from the flips of your belly and the cries of your heart, calling out for him, you were folding already. You didn't know what this was, but you knew right away that you were not getting through this in one piece.

So beautiful. That was Jey’s first thought when he laid eyes on you for the first time in weeks. And yet, you were such a mess. Over him. Your pretty eyes gave you away; tired, broken...just like he was. He hadn't really understood the effects of what he’d done…until now. He swallowed hard as you approached him hesitantly, not knowing what to expect. The closer you got, the more certain he was that a slap was coming his way. 

But instead, to his surprise, you threw yourself into his arms. 

Without missing a beat, he embraced you tightly, almost lifting you off the ground as he pressed his mouth to your cheek, your temple, your hair. 

“Princess,” he breathed, his voice soft and hushed and relieved. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He peppered more kisses along your throat, a further apology. A sob broke through your chest as you buried yourself in him, relishing his scent, the feel of his body pressed against yours. It took you a minute to put two and two together, how he was even here and who was behind this. 

“Whatever you bribed Kayla with, I want double,” you mumbled, causing him to chuckle and kiss your cheek. You couldn’t stop your tears from falling as you clung to him, not wanting to let go. 

Jey pulled away slowly and wiped your tears from your cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.” He looked you over carefully, inspecting you. Something was different, but he couldn’t tell what. 

“We should sit down,” he offered, leading you to the little fort in the corner of the room, with cushions heaped on top of the blankets on the sofa bed. 

Settling down inside the makeshift, albeit cute, tent, you watched him take his seat next to you. He reached around him and handed the roses and toy to you. 

“These are for you,” he said with a bashful smile. The teddy bear was plush and wore a white t-shirt that said, “I’m Sorry”.

"Aww, this is so cute," you gushed, hugging the teddy bear close as your gaze flickered back to his chest. His tank top showed off his arms and the tattoos on his pecs. The sight of his tattoos made you bite your bottom lip. You remembered adoring the intricate designs with your fingertips; you remembered what he looked like, hovering above you with his trademark gold chain dangling in front of you.

“Baby I fucked up. I fucked up so bad,” Jey started, his irises heavy with remorse. “When I saw you with Cody, I got scared and jumped to conclusions. I thought you ain’t want me the way I want you. I said all that horrible shit in anger. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

You sniffled and shook your head as you put the gifts away. “It’s fine.” Because truthfully, you were over it. There were far more important things to worry about now.

“No it’s not,” Jey insisted. “I did you dirty, princess. You don’t do that to people you care about.”

“I just…” You faltered a little, swallowed down your emotions, started again. “I thought we built something in Key West. Thought we were starting a relationship. I learned the hard way that that wasn’t the case, and I felt embarrassed and hurt.”

“I know. And I’ma spend every day making it up to you. I’ma be better from now on, I promise.”

You looked at him, puzzled. “From now on?”

Jey nodded and looked into your eyes. “I don’t know if you feel the same, but I really hope you do. Y/N, I wanna be with you and only you. I ain’t afraid to admit it anymore. You mean so much to me and it don’t feel right when you’re not in my life.”

“My sex is that good huh? I should be flattered,” you joked, rolling your eyes.

He let your little jab slide. You had every right to be skeptical. “Nah, baby. It’s not just the sex. It’s all of it. All of you. The deep conversations, the advice, the banter, the happiness I feel when I’m with you…The thing is, I never saw it coming. Never saw you coming. I was so focused on the Bloodline, on wrestling, protecting our legacy. Relationships of any kind were not on my radar at all. I never imagined that someone as wonderful and crazy and migraine-inducing as you could shake up my world like this. I tried to convince myself that I hated it but I don’t. I love it.”

He exchanged warm smiles with you as he took your hand, relieved when you didn’t pull away. “You right. We did build something in Key West and I wanna keep building. I like getting to know you. You’re an amazing person and I’ve learned so much from you. I miss you. I miss your smile. I miss how you always gotta play with my hair when I’m near you. I miss the way your nose crinkles when you’re confused or irritated. I miss watching those fucking reruns of Chopped with you,” he added with gritted teeth. 

That part made you laugh. Disliking Chopped should have been enough to cancel him in your books. “I miss you too,” you confessed. “I miss that big laugh of yours and how fucking goofy you are. I miss your little baby snore when you sleep. I miss your potty mouth. I miss how you bite your lip when you’re focusing really hard on something. I miss your cuddles. You give the best cuddles.”

Jey knew how much it took you to admit all those things. He happily took the small win. “I missed you after Mania,” he told you, weaving his fingers through yours. “I heard you off work for a while but no one told me why. Is everything okay?” he asked.

The abrupt switch in your demeanor concerned him. You pulled your hand out of his. The mirth on your face instantly vanished, and now you looked terrified. 

“I want to show you something,” you told him.

Picking up your phone, you opened it up, searched for a pdf document, and showed it to him. You watched in real time as the air rushed out of his lungs. He raised his widened eyes back to yours which glimmered with unshed tears.

You inhaled shakily. "That's my test result. It's the reason I've stopped traveling. I'm pregnant."

Jey felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He scraped a hand down his face, staring back at the big POSITIVE on the document in a complete daze.

"I found out the morning after Mania," you explained yourself. "Actually, Becky found out before I did. I probably wouldn't have known if it wasn't for her. I thought I had COVID again. Never did I think it would be...So, I took three pregnancy tests, all of which came out positive, and got this test with WWE to make sure. I'm currently two months pregnant. I should have told you sooner, but I was still trying to process it all."

Apparently, so was Jey, as he kept staring at the result on your phone. "Wow," he breathed, "Wow."

You observed his stunned features and got choked up again. "Please don't ask me if it's yours. You're the only one I've been with all this time," you added, your voice breaking. "And I ain't do it on purpose neither-”

"Hey, hey, hey," he cooed, immediately squeezing your hand. "Relax. I know it's mine, a'ight? Chill. I was right there with you. We made this baby together." He really shouldn't have been surprised. Two months meant it happened at Key West. But even before that, he could recall several other instances of his and your...recklessness, for lack of a better word...in the scorching heat of passion. This outcome had been coming, pun intended. And now that it was here, he intended to be an adult, take responsibility, and for the two of you to handle it together.

The silence stretched between you, and you shifted uncomfortably. You looked like you wanted to run away. He would not allow it, and held on to your hand in case you did try to bolt.

“I’m keeping it, by the way. That goes without saying,” you said.

“Of course. I want you to keep it. I’ll take care of you, no questions asked,” Jey promised. “We good. I’ma do right by the woman I love. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

You felt your whole world shift on its axis. "Love? Did you just say the woman you love?" 

As he held your shocked stare, Jey Uso finally waved the white flag, accepted defeat. He was tired. Tired of fighting the feelings that harbored inside him for months. Tired of fighting his love for you.

"Yeah, I did, okay?" he answered, a little defensively. "I’m in love with you. There, I said it. I love you. Make fun of me all you want, whatever. But it’s how I feel. How I’ve been feeling for a long time, in all honesty.”

“Is it love, though?” you had to ask. As ecstatic as you were, it all felt too good to be true. “Is it love or is it lust? There’s a difference, and there’s been plenty of lust between us.”

“Trust me, lust ain’t the reason I’ve been worrying about you,” said Jey, “Lust wasn’t the reason I invited you to Key West, a place I’ve never taken anyone else to. Lust ain’t why I’m lookin’ up podcast equipment cuz you talked about wanting to change the ones you have. It’s not lust that makes me hit you up to ask what you want for lunch cuz I know you forget to feed yourself sometimes. Lust ain’t the reason I can’t stop thinking ‘bout you, day and night.”

The way he looked at you pretty much confirmed the truth. He did care for you. He loved you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand. No matter how much you tried to fight it, the energy between you and this man could no longer be ignored. 

"Well, you better love me,” you replied with an infantile pout, crossing your arms stubbornly, “Cuz ain’t no way I'm gonna be in love with you, if you're not in love with me, ya feel me?" 

Jey studied you for a long moment. “So, you’re in love with me?”

You looked up shyly at him, your heart in your eyes. “You know I am.” 

“Nah, say it.”

There was no need to hesitate anymore. “I’m in love with you, Jey Uso. I’ve never fallen this hard for anyone the way I’ve fallen for you. There’s butterflies in my stomach every time I think about you. When you’re not with me, I always wonder how you’re doing. How you’re feeling; hoping you’re okay and your brothers aren’t stressing you out too much,” you giggled. Saying it out loud was surreal, but a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders as you bore your soul to him, like you’d been set free from an unseen, yet heavy burden.

The smile that appeared on Jey’s face could light up the entire northern hemisphere. He leisurely brought his lips to yours in a long-overdue move. You thought you’d be used to his kisses by now, but they never failed to take your breath away. Every press of his lips made your heart sing with joy and happiness. 

“I've missed you, princess. I’ve been miserable without you,” he whispered.

“Same here, babe. I’ve missed you so much,” you replied. His deep brown eyes bored into yours so intimately that goosebumps sprouted on your arms. He kissed you again, repeatedly, as though he couldn’t bear to keep his lips from yours. You could spend the next three days making out with him like this, doing nothing else, and it would be just fine.

“I’d like a girl,” Jey stated out of the blue.

“What?”

“I’d like a daughter. She’ll grow up to be smart and badass and breathtakingly beautiful like her mama.” He tapped your chin affectionately, making your face heat up.

“I really don’t know if I should admit this,” you said, your voice low and coy. “But I’ve had a few dreams about us being together, and we had a baby girl.”

A smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “You dream about me? That’s so hot.”

“Stop,” you blushed even harder, running your fingers through his short hair. “I’ve imagined a boy, too. Handsome, athletic, passionate and generous to a fault. Like his daddy.” 

Touched, Jey cupped your chin and pecked your lips. “I can’t believe I almost messed this up, princess. I’m a fuckin’ fool.”

“Maybe. But you’re my fool.”

“Mm-hmm. All yours.”

You kissed him again, only this time you let everything out; your fear, your desire, your attraction, your love for him, pouring out of you like a waterfall. Jey shared the same energy, and it wasn’t long before each kiss became slower and sexier and devouring, swirling his tongue sensually with yours and making your head spin. As he moaned softly and ran his hands over your body, you did the same with him, desperate to feel him on you and all over you. He soon broke the kiss to lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, before grabbing the hem of his tank top and pulling it off, revealing his tattooed upper body. He then helped you out of your shorts and underwear, kissing your thighs until you had to lie back against the cushions to accommodate him. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. As he spread your thighs wide, you shivered when you felt his warm breath dance over your exposed pussy, and nearly wept as he put his tongue on you. 

He often liked to take his time playing with your cunt, like he was now, slowly suckling your clit before licking you up and down your pussy lips with the flat of his tongue. Heat bloomed in your loins as you laced your fingers at the back of his head, submitting to the pleasure he was giving you—pleasure he’d always given you, his oral prowess setting your body ablaze.

“I love you. I love you and our baby,” Jey said, pausing to brush sweet butterfly kisses on your still-flat belly. 

His deep, husky voice as he declared his love for you and your unborn child filled you with so much emotion. “We love you too,” you choked out.

“Ay, you can legit call me Daddy now, though,” he wiggled his eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

You burst out laughing and hit his arm. “You so corny!” Your eyes stayed locked on his, immersing yourself in the feelings, in your deep connection to one another. Moments later, his mouth was on your pussy again, kissing, licking, and suckling you until your back arched off the blanket and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your groan was loud and desperate at the feel of his tongue ravenously lapping your juices. “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered.

His response was a soft nibble of your clit that sent a powerful jolt through you which triggered your orgasm. Your thighs squeezed his head as you came undone and shook with the force of your climax. Never one to take pity on you, Jey forced your legs back open and continued eating you out, this time adding his fingers and pumping them in and out of your core. Before your body could recover from one release, you were tumbling into another. By the time he came up for air, you were a sobbing mess, your knees going weak at the sight of his tongue swiping over his lips.

Jey reared back, grinning at your slumped, spread-eagled frame. "You a’ight, baby?" he asked, and the lazy, sated smile on your face made his dick hard. He licked his fingers, gathering the remnants of your sweet honey into his mouth. “You taste amazing, princess. I’ve missed this sweet cunt.”

Sitting up, he pushed his pants and briefs down his thighs simultaneously, and you whimpered at the familiar yet breathtaking sight of his erection, long and hard, pressing between your softened, moist folds. You squirmed beneath him, and Jey raised an eyebrow at your impatience.

“Hmm, you want me, baby? Want this dick?” He rubbed the plum-shaped head of his cock along your wet slit and patted your pussy with it.

“Uh huh. I want you, Daddy. Come here,” you instructed, clawing hungrily at him.

“So needy,” he teased, taking your naked round breasts in his sizable hands.

“You love that shit,” you repeated one of his favorite lines back to him. His thumbs rolled over your peaked nipples, eliciting a sigh from you which turned into a moan when he leaned down to wrap his lips around each one, suckling like a baby. You held your breath as he slowly slid inside your body, connecting you two together. Both of you released a long hiss with every inch that breached your walls. Halfway in, he retreated, making you grunt with barely concealed frustration.

“More!” 

"You ten times as bossy now that you knocked up," he griped playfully. Bracing himself over you, he pushed further inside your heat, but just a little. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, wanting him deeper. Jey cursed under his breath as he inched forwards carefully, cautiously. You could sense his hesitation, but it went largely unnoticed because he felt so good inside you. His lips grazed yours, your foreheads resting together.

"I'm sorry," he said.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he stopped you with another soft kiss.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive, baby. Harder,” you moaned. 

“I don’t want to hurt you…The baby…”

“I barely have a belly. I’ll be fine.” You grabbed his face with both hands and looked right at him. “Now fuck. Me.”

As though he’d been unshackled, he rotated his hips more earnestly, making you feel him from all angles, and it took your breath away. He began flicking his hips forward forcefully, and your gasps filled the air as you gave yourself to him. You could feel his control gradually slipping away, and frankly, you wanted it all gone. You wanted him to take you, make you his. 

“Mmm, just like that, Daddy, it feels so good,” you gasped, running your hands up and down his back before going lower to squeeze his ass. Your hips lifted, rocking in rhythm with his. “Take me, baby. Show me who I belong to.”

Your words were the catalyst he needed, the chains of control snapping away until he was fully liberated. He picked up the pace, rocking into you with increased urgency, lost to the pleasure as you were. He clamped his lips over your lengthened neck, sucking and biting you, marking you. His big hands gripped and massaged your thighs before pushing them down to your chest. This position allowed him to stroke you deeper, digging out your walls, making your pussy quite vocal indeed. 

“There she is, there’s my sweet pussy,” Jey talked back to the pussy, caressing your feet planted on his chest. “Daddy’s missed you so much, girl. I can tell you missed Daddy too. I’ma take good care of my pussy now, huh?” His brain was close to short-circuiting because you felt so damn good, but he soldiered on, giving your body what you wanted while you gave his body what he needed. 

You watched a master at work, admiring the way his sexy body glowed in the light, his brows knitted together in concentration. Your pulse quickened and your loins moistened as his dick found every crevice of your pussy. He licked the pad of his thumb and placed it on your swollen clit, flicking the sensitive nub back and forth, making you arch your head back with a long, drawn-out groan as you tightened around him. “Oh my fuckin’ god,” you groaned, digging your fingernails into his arms. 

"That's it, babe. I can feel you, you're so close. Come on my dick," he urged, his raspy voice syrupy sweet and seductive as he pistoned into you over and over and over, "Come for me, baby."

You could do nothing but let the orgasm claim you, and it did. Hard. You cried out as your body detonated again, flooding his dick with your cum. You squeezed your shaking legs together and closed your thighs around his hand on your clit, moaning as the immense pleasure sweeping through you intensified. Jey pulled out and allowed you a minute to recover, looking down proudly at his groin area. 

“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. You made a mess on me, pretty girl. Got all that whipped cream on my dick.” He gripped his heavy shaft, his fist gliding up and down the length to spread your juices all over it. 

“You made me come so hard, Daddy. My orgasms feel stronger now,” you breathed, resting back on your elbows. 

“Cuz of that baby I put in you, huh?” he smirked, “You gon’ get this work more often, then. I want you to feel good all the time, babe.”

The kiss he gave you let you know he wasn’t quite done with you yet. But neither were you with him. Sitting up properly, you quickly took over the kiss, suckling his lips in that teasing, sensual way that always drove him crazy. Gripping the back of his head, you nibbled his bottom lip then sucked his tongue, swallowing his moan when your fingers wrapped around his length. He inhaled sharply as you dragged your hand up and down, creating a delicious friction on his shaft. You kept your eyes on him, your kiss-swollen lip between your teeth as you stroked him. His breathing was heavy, showing how aroused he was. Aroused by you. 

“I love you,” you smiled at him. Those three words came so easily to you now. You liked it.

Jey’s eyes softened, and he grasped your face with both hands for another kiss. “I love you too.” Kissing became more passionate and sensual, and for a few minutes, the two of you just focused on exploring each other's mouths all over again. You melted in his arms, dizzy from his incredible kisses, slow and thorough, his tongue slipping in at the right times, pouring his love into you.

Changing your positions, Jey gently laid you on your belly and adjusted your knees. Grabbing a pillow, he positioned it underneath your upper body. “You good?” he asked. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you smiled, enjoying how extra attentive he was. You whined softly as he roamed your body with his hands, paying special attention to your stomach, hips and backside. His little groan as he squeezed your ass cheeks made you hiss with need. His touch was gentle, yet firm with his worship of your body. Through his hands, you felt his lust, his desire, his yearning for you. 

Fisting his dick, Jey’s eyes glimmered with lust at the sight of your wetness. You both struggled to hold back your moans as he slowly sank all the way inside you, making your pussy yield to him. Leaning over you and lacing his fingers with yours, he kept his thrusts slow this time, focusing them on being deep. How he missed being inside you, missed indulging in the softness of your body, your backside, your skin. With every couple of thrusts, he held himself inside you, circling his hips against your pillow-soft ass, making you grip all of him in a tight seal. Your trembles encouraged him to repeat the action. 

“Mmm, you like that, baby? You love when I get deep in this pussy?” he asked, reaching around you to cup your breast, playing with its softness and extending your pleasure, all while pounding you steadily from the back.

“Uhhhnnn, fuck…” you whimpered, reaching behind you to grab his hip. This position was more devastating than you ever expected. He was so hard and deep and making you so wet you could hear your pussy. He snatched back your wayward hand and returned it to its place in front of you, gripping your fingers in his. His entire body weight was on top of yours, his legs trapping your own so you couldn’t fuck him back like you liked to. You had no choice but to take it; every inch of him deep inside your wet, aching pussy, filling you. All you could do was moan and groan, speechless, breathless. You felt so wonderfully helpless lying beneath him, being thoroughly ravished by this man, the most brutally sensual man you’ve ever met.

His own sounds of pleasure reverberated through your being as his hips worked you into delirium. His fingers curled around your throat to pull your head up next to his, and that was when he started slamming into you. Your lips parted, panting, as you felt his hardness even more intensely now, his big beautiful cock meeting your sweet spot. Soon, you were shattering around him in another powerful climax. He wanted everything you had and you gave it all to him with no hesitation. 

"Yeah, princess, come all over this dick, unnhh, I'm drownin' in this pussy, babe," he panted in your ear, and when you shivered, he kissed your cheek before brushing your lips together. He was burying himself inside you, making you throb around his impressive size as it ravaged your g-spot. When you succumbed to him again, trembling underneath him, you thought you were going to pass out from pleasure. Your tremors had barely subsided when he began to move again, driving his hips forward, chasing his own release.

"Jey! Oh shit," you whined, groaning with every deep, manic stroke, your body still sensitive from coming so much and so hard in such a short time. You could tell he was losing it, and he was taking you with him. You would happily go wherever he wanted you to go.

His breathing picked up with his approaching orgasm. "Aww, I'm 'bout to come for you, baby, fuck, I'm nuttin'..." he gasped, pounding you frantically until white lightning zipped through his bones. His orgasmic moan almost drowned out yours as he came hard, his cum gushing inside your weeping pussy. Exhaling with satisfaction, he pressed his lips to the back of your neck and slowly pulled out of you, his hands smoothing over your ass before curling an arm around your waist and easing you upright. He kissed you hard, wrapping his arms around you, and you remained in each other's embrace, enjoying your reunion just a little longer.

“I love you, baby,” he mumbled against your lips. It felt so good to say those words to you.

“I love you too, Daddy,” you whispered, kissing him back. “Got any food?” 

“Oh, right. You must be hungry.” Reluctantly parting his lips from yours, he helped you out of the fort, you dusted stray rose petals off each other before walking together, naked, to the kitchen. The sky outside had darkened considerably, meaning you had spent quite some time making up and losing yourselves in each other. Jey turned on the kitchen lights and opened the oven to retrieve a large platter of finger food that made your stomach rumble. Mozzarella sticks, Buffalo wings, meatballs, canapé, among others; all your favorites. Placing the tray on the countertop, he moved the bottle of red wine away with a sheepish smile. “I guess this is out,” he quipped, earning a laugh from you as you sat on a stool next to him.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you said, looking back at the decorations in the living room. “This is so pretty. Did Kayla help you with it?”

“Not just her. My brothers and Roman helped, and they did such a great job. Jimmy found this place online. I knew you’d love it so I booked it. Roman flew all of us down to set it up, and Kayla handled getting you here.”

“Gosh, it must have cost so much.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, grabbing two small plates and placing one of every food item in each of them. "Money ain't no issue, princess. I would give you the sun and the moon if you asked me to."  

Aww, how amazing was he? "I only want you, Jey," you assured him, gently rubbing his back, "But this was such a wonderful surprise. I love it, it's so romantic. Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you, baby." He leaned down to give you a short, sweet kiss. He stared at you for a beat, smiling that beautiful smile of his. "God, you're beautiful."

You blushed yet again and stroked his face tenderly. "You're handsome," you returned the compliment. Another thought came to you, one far more important than Airbnb costs and logistics. "So...how do we break the news about us out to the world?" you asked him.

Jey picked out a mozzarella stick and fed it to you. “Well, the world pretty much knows about us already. As for our baby, we do it however we want, whenever we want. But only when you’re ready, and after we tell our parents first. It’ll break my mama’s heart if she finds out about her grandbaby through the internet.”

“Mine too,” you agreed.

“I bet. Also, I’d like you to come live with me,” he added, carefully gauging your reaction. “I wanna be closer to you and be involved in every step of your pregnancy. I know you like your space and your independence, but I wanna be there for you. I don’t want to miss anything. Let me take care of you.”

You liked this a lot. Making plans with him, mapping out your future together. “I’d like that,” you agreed, enraptured by his easygoing, happy smile. “How are you so chill about becoming a parent? I damn sure am not. I’m scared, Jey.” You bit your lip as the nerves bubbled within you.

“Honestly? I am too,” he admitted, taking your hand and pressing it to his lips. “But we’ll work it out, together.” 

“If you think I’m a bitch now, wait till I’m deep into this pregnancy,” you warned.

Jey snorted and stepped in between your legs to hug you. “I won’t love you any less, baby. You’re going to be an amazing, beautiful momma. And now that we’ve gotten to this point, I realized we still ain't official. Would you mind if I become your boyfriend?”

He then hit you with the cutest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. How could you ever resist that face?

“Only if I can be your girlfriend,” you replied just as cutely, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Hell yeah!” he exclaimed, the two of you cackling together before sharing another heartfelt kiss. Resting his hand on your belly, he gazed at your face, his glistening eyes finally overflowing. You began to well up again as you leaned in to kiss away his tears, even as yours mingled with his own. 

“I hope these are happy tears,” you half-laughed, half-sobbed, wiping his eyes before doing the same with your own. “Mine definitely are.”

"With you, it'll always be happy," Jey vowed. This was cathartic, poignant even; owning your vulnerability, something that neither of you would have exposed to each other just months ago...It was another subtle display of your growing love for one another.

Wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's neck, you held him tight and stared deep into his warm chocolate eyes. "I love you so much. You're going to be a great daddy," you told him.

Jey smiled warmly at you, his girlfriend. “I love you too, princess,” he answered, brushing his lips tenderly against your forehead. “I’ll be the best partner and father in the world, I promise. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. It’s me and you for life now. I gotchu.”

The sincerity in his voice as he uttered those words to you would be etched into your memory. A myriad of emotions trickled through every fiber of your being as you processed this outcome. After all the bickering and fighting, only for your destiny to be tied forever with Jey Uso, the man you never imagined you would fall in love with. It really was funny how life worked out sometimes. 

THE END. FINALLY.

------------------

The end, guys! I’m in my feelings right now. I loved writing this so much���😭😭

What did you think of the entire series? Which chapter was your fave? Was the smut too much, lol. Do you think what they have is real? Do you want more Jey stuff?

Thanks to EVERYONE who liked and reviewed and gave suggestions and ideas. I appreciated them all so much!

Banner made by me. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

Please leave more comments! I love comments! This is the last one so let me get all that energy, fellow readers!

[daegutowns]

salt and sesame seeds (lsm)

tags: puppy love, bf!dokyeom, gn!reader, established relationship, dokyeom is such a wholesome boyfriend, his eyes only see you, you’re the light of his life, but you cannot take him anywhere, everything is a side quest, dokyeom loves words of affirmation

grocery shopping with your boyfriend was always fun. he always found a way to cheer you up. a lot of things reminded him of you, and you would be the first to find out. dating dokyeom has always been that -- fun. you can’t count the amount of times he has tugged on your sleeve and said, “hey, y/n, doesn’t this remind you of--” and proceeded to remind you of a funny moment you had together. it was almost impossible to stop smiling around him. 

but sometimes the smile didn’t stay…. and it was usually because you cannot take this man anywhere. 

“we should get this too,” dokyeom said, grabbing another bag of chips and dropping it in the cart. “limited edition holiday flavor!” 

without waiting for your response, he grabbed another box on the shelf. “and this one,” dokyeom added in again, holding up a box of rice crackers. “you like these when it’s cold outside.” 

you wonder how you got here. you were supposed to go make a quick grocery trip alone before dinner since your boyfriend was still out with his friends. he wasn’t due back until right before dinner, so you still had time to run to grab a bottle of salt and sesame seeds. 

your plans were derailed when you saw dokyeom and his friends on the walk over to the grocery store. as soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up, bid his friends a quick good-bye, and ran over to trap you in a big hug. he was always sooo happy to see you. if you didn’t know any better, you would be able to see his lil’ tail wagging back and forth. 

and that’s how you ended up at the grocery store with your boyfriend with a cart full of snacks, chips, and no salt or sesame seeds. 

you watched him hug his cookies as he studied the aisle once again. “mmm, y/n, i think we should get these chips too. they’re your favorite, right?” 

“kyeom, we need salt and sesame seeds,” you told him, eyeing the lack of ingredients in the cart that you came for. 

his head whipped around to you, puppy eyes activated. “are these not your favorite anymore?” he asked you, worried about his choice of chips. the boxes of cookies were dropped into the cart immediately, but his hands were reaching for the chips already. 

your heart melted, unable to stay annoyed at him. “no, they’re still my favorite,” you replied with a smile on your face. you wrap him up in a hug, leaning your cheek on his warm body. “thank you for thinking of me.” 

“you don’t have to thank me, you know,” dokyeom hummed as he closed his eyes in content. he loves your hugs! his arms wrapped around your waist comfortably. 

“i know, but i want you to know i love you,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled by the material of his sweater. “let’s grab the salt and the sesame seeds so i can cook for you.” 

your boyfriend was the first to pull away, excited. “why didn’t you say so before?” dokyeom pushed the cart over to the spice aisle with a renewed vigor, completely forgetting about the overwhelming selection of tasty treats and snacks he was previously enraptured with. 

you could barely contain your smile. “yah! wait for me!” you giggled, chasing him down. 

by the time you got there, he was grabbing at the brand of sesame seeds you two usually used and was throwing it into the cart. “hurry, y/n. i get to taste your cooking tonight, so we need to get home sooner.” dokyeom told you, feeling giddy. 

“you goofball,” you laughed. “now you wanna hurry up? what happened to your million snacks?” 

he leaned over to you and planted a quick kiss to your lips. “my apologies. i’m just excited.” 

ugh, he always had a way of making your stomach erupt into butterflies -- even now!

even at the checkout line, you could see him bouncing since he was so excited. his card was paying for everything (even the extra cents for some plastic bags) before you could even register the old lady at the checkout telling you the total. 

“what a sweet couple,” she commented with a smile. “enjoy your night, you two.” 

“thank you,” you both chimed back, taking your bags of food. 

as you stepped outside into the chilly weather, dokyeom’s arm brought you closer to him to share his warmth. his lips pressed onto your forehead in an affectionate kiss. “i love you, y/n.” 

“i love you too, kyeom.” 

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it's another wednesday :) Thank you so much to the lovely @hircines-hunter and @umbracirrus for tagging me, lovley to see your wips

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @firefly-factory @throughtrialbyfire @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @changelingsandothernonsense

@lady-iizsil @sheirukitriesfandom @captain-of-silvenar @thequeenofthewinter @dirty-bosmer

@lucien-lachance @pocket-vvardvark

This week I bring you a snippet of Theo's grown up children. The general plot is her youngest, Ceridwen (Ceri) is bringing her Telvanni boyfriend home from the College of Winterhold to meet the family. This is a little scene over dinner where the girls (her brothers) are fighting :P

“What school is your focus?” Ricardo asks him. 

“Illusion.” Ralos answers. “I started off with Destruction but found it was for not me, whereas Ceri was the opposite.”  The eldest of the three speaks. 

“I’ve always found mages to be too caught up in their theory, not unlike this one.” He gestures to his brother. “They tend to forget life is much more than what’s written in their books.” His brother rolls his eyes. 

“You are surrounded by mages. By Auri-El, you, yourself are a conjurer.” Arthano’s brows furrow.

“That’s different.” He puts a hand to his chest. “I use an axe.”

“A bound axe.”

“And yet, it can cut through bone the same.” Ricardo grimaces at his words. Their father, Ondolemar as he’s told Ralos to address him as, pours himself more wine, sipping before speaking. 

“Boys, cannot you not be civil? At least for your sister’s sake? We have a guest, and need I remind you that you are family.” Both men look down. 

“I can be civil if he keeps thoughts like those to himself.” His fork goes into the salmon. “But must he wear the armour during dinner?”

“You didn’t complain about the armour when I protected your defenceless ass whilst you were transporting those books from the University of Gwylim last summer.”

“That was different, those were first editions, very valuable. Very attractive to the right individual.” Ricardo says exasperatedly. His brother chews his food for a bit, seemingly dropping the topic. 

“You know.” He has a sip of mead. “For someone who is a pacifist, you sure did worry about getting beaten up a lot. If only there was a way for, I don’t know, you to defend yourself? I suppose we can only dream.” 

“Boys, enough.” They ignore their father’s command as the younger of the two doubles down. 

“Why is it that Ceridwen is the one in Skyrim, yet you come back behaving as a brute from a backwater province?” Everyone’s eyes are wide at the brash comment. 

“Is that so?”Arthano stands up from the table but doesn’t get a chance to respond as a woman’s voice is heard. 

“Ricardo.” This must be their mother he thinks. She approaches, shorter than the rest of the family, yet still taller than him. Ricardo and Ceri share many of her features, dark hair, rounder features. Seeing her parents side by side now, as their mother takes the empty seat next to their father, he can definitely see the resemblance. Ceri and her older brother were very much a blend of the two, if in opposite ways. Her voice booms. “We do not refer to other lands as backwater provinces. Lest you forget if it was not for Skyrim, none of you even exist.” Turning away from where he was, she addressed the eldest. “And Arthano, must you provoke your brother? Especially at dinner, a dinner for your sister.”

“I’m sorry Ceri and mother and father.” He sinks back in the chair. Ondolemar speaks up. 

“Now apologize to each other, you both are more than capable of compromising."

“My apologies, brother.”

“Likewise, brother.” Their father serves her salmon while she looks directly at him. 

“And my apologies, both for my sons and for being late. Dealing with some work that dragged on much longer than I anticipated.” She flashes him a warm smile. “You must be Ralos, Ceri has written much about you.”

[dnd-writes]

Looking Up

AO3

Tags: toy!Haseul, master!reader, sexual slavery, public humiliation, masturbation, master/slave, dom/sub, slapping, impact play, humiliation, dacryphilia, degradation, name calling, self degradation, begging, punishment, dub-con?, rough oral sex, deepthroat, choking, gagging, breath play, fear play, biting, floor cleaning, painal, hair pulling, more slapping, emotion play, somewhat/barely edited

Warning: Well, the tags speak for themselves. Lots of generally degrading things plus a bunch of stuff that isn't usually seen in fics (or at least I don't usually see). Also gets a little more harsh/violent than what most people would probably be used to so... yeah, just full of degeneracy so uhh... enjoy!

A/N: Longest fic I've written amounting to just a little above 6k words wtf I didn't even notice (at first, until I started adding random stuff to meet the mark). Honestly I had a vision for this fic in mind which kinda got lost as I made it so if it feels a little over the place or if it bounces from this to that and that to this then I apologize. Also, while writing this, I was also writing the sequel fic somewhat alongside it. I'm not gonna go to detail about it to avoid spoilers but at the end I'll put a poll regarding the sequel so when you're done with this or you wanna skip right to the end then don't forget to vote, thank you!

Being a leader of a group can be tiring enough, what more when there are 12 total members? Everyone in the group looks up to Haseul, she’s so caring and loving, she’s almost like the mother in the group. Always taking care of her members, always comforting them, always being there for them, it can get tiring for her sometimes but the way everyone looks so happy and content is enough of a reward for the struggles she faces having to deal with her 11 girls. They love her and she loves them back.

However, sometimes Haseul wants something else, needs something else, something totally the opposite of her current position in the group. She needs someone to look up to, someone to be her leader, someone to hold her. Haseul found it impossible to ask her groupmates about this problem, she just couldn’t bring herself to talk to them about it, every time she thought she was ready to speak no words came out of her mouth. It wasn’t just embarrassment or fear, there was something in her holding herself back from reaching out, something within her preventing her from telling even the closest people in her life about such a deeply disturbing problem that’s affecting her.

That’s when she realized that even if she told anyone about it, even her closest friends and family, there was nothing they could do to appease that inner desire of hers. That’s when she realized that she needs a complete stranger to fulfill her darkest needs, someone who wouldn’t judge such a need that she has, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to deliver through with her requests. That’s when she realized that it’s more than just having a leader, more than just having someone to look up to, more than just an external force. That’s when she realized that her needs reach far deeper than she thought, not just her mind or her heart but rather her whole body needs it. That’s when she realized she doesn’t need a leader, she needs an owner. She doesn’t need someone to look up to, she needs to look up at someone. She doesn’t want to be someone important, she wants to be nobody. She doesn’t want to comfort, she wants to be hurt. 

= = = = =

“What’s taking you so long?” You can see on Haseul’s face that she’s tired from whatever it is she did prior to calling you, she puts on a dainty smile but it’s wiped away so quickly with how stern you sound. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips before finally answering, “Uhhh… I left a little late—” Haseul pulls the microphone on her earbuds closer to her mouth “—Master.” A whisper so faint even you could barely hear it but you didn’t press her to say it louder, public humiliation wasn’t on your agenda today, you have something else in store for Haseul when she finally reaches you, especially after having to make you wait for so long.

“Didn’t I tell you to be here at 4 sharp?” Your tone is gradually rising as you speak and you just see Haseul on your screen sink deeper into her seat out of humiliation.

“But we had—” “No ‘buts’ what did I tell you? I don’t care what you’re doing or where you’re at, if I set a time, you should be here at that time. Maybe I should just call s—”

“NO!” Haseul covers her mouth as she reactively opposes you. Her expression quickly changes to one of panic, both from screaming inside a tiny car and from even daring to go against your wishes. She quickly apologizes to the driver then bows her body as much as she can to apologize to you. “I-I mean… do whatever you want, Master. I am sorry.”

If there’s one thing to describe Haseul it’s determination and she wants nothing more in the world than to have your gaze to be solely on her, just the mere thought or mention of any of your other toys makes her desperate to the point where she goes against everything else, goes against her “code” just to keep you to herself.

You check your list of schedules and it seems like Haseul is the only one available for at least two more hours, so even if you wanted to give her emotional pain, the best you could really do is bluff. Not that it would matter to Haseul, she will believe any word you will say—the real problem is with your needs, without Haseul or any other toy, you’ll be left alone and sexually frustrated.. “Fine.” Just one word is enough to make Haseul bounce joyfully in her seat then immediately after she puts a serious face on, ready to follow any order you give her even from inside a taxi.

You didn’t really intend on doing it but given that you don’t have any other toys to play with at the moment, it will have to do. “What are you wearing?” you ask and Haseul simply extends her arm and angled the phone at her body, from seeing a view of just her face to everything but. A black camisole and jean shorts, a very typical outfit for her. Nothing too special about it aside from lots of skin and slight curvature of her chest along her tight top.

“Take it all off, play with yourself.” Although she’s in a stranger’s car, Haseul doesn’t hesitate to follow orders. You see her unbutton her shorts then not-so-elegantly shimmy them past her hips, it is a struggle enough having to remove them with her ass in the way but using only one hand while seated in a car makes it even harder. This isn’t the graceful strip tease Haseul hoped it would be, her smile weakens and you can just see the panic slowly start to build up within her. You’re simply watching her and yet the prospect of disappointing you acts like surveillance on her entire being. 

Haseul forgoes visual for speed but ends up grunting just a little too loudly, she freezes for a split second, looking over to the front before resuming her poor attempt at an elegant show. After a tedious couple of seconds, Haseul finally manages to get her shorts past her hips and it smoothly sails down her legs and onto the floor. What’s left behind is her shaved pussy, wet and ready for any debauchery you plan to bring upon her.

She lowers herself in her seat, trying to conceal herself as much as possible from the driver and potentially from other cars who might just peer through the window. As opposed to her shorts, her top and bra lift over her chest with ease, revealing her full round breasts to you—above her mounds you can see faded black ink spelling out the word “SLAVE” just beneath her bunched up clothing, still not fully erased from yesterday’s session. 

Haseul spreads her legs as much as she can then sticks her ring and middle into her snatch. She chooses not to go fast so as to not alert the driver of how she’s defiling his vehicle but you have other plans. “Cum for me, Haseul. Before you get here I want you to cum in that seat.” Haseul’s eyes widen from nervousness, this is the most humiliating thing you’ve asked her to do ever since you strolled her around naked in the middle of the night but her calling to serve and obey you stands above all and not a second later her eyes glitter with resolve. 

Haseul ups her pace while trying to be discreet as possible, with one hand holding the phone and the other busy with her pussy, best she can do to not be noticed is to bite her lips down and hope the car is loud enough to drown the wet sounds emanating from fingering herself.

If traffic is how it usually is like other days then that means Haseul only has a few minutes to complete her task so you sit back and wait to see how Haseul approaches this. What makes this even funner is seeing the struggle on Haseul’s face as she tries to get herself off in subpar conditions—only slightly comfortable, not able to moan, not having her tits played with, and not having your cock in her makes it so hard for her but Haseul’s determination keeps her going, that and the fact that she doesn’t want to upset you.

By the second it’s getting harder for Haseul to maintain herself, her lips start to part every now and then, sometimes she catches herself mid-moan and bites down on her lips to quiet herself, other times they slip right past and cause such lewd sounds to fill the dead air. You smile seeing your toy so obedient and Haseul flashes a quick smile in return of your approval of her. Your smile seems to trigger something else in her as you see her chest start to heave faster and her fingers to pump harder, your effect on her is huge even if all you did was curl your lips upward.

She adds her index to the mix and by now she’s slowly starting to lose herself to the heat of the moment. Her eyes slowly start to close and her mouth stays wide open. You can even start to hear her fingers pistoning in and out of her pussy together with lewd squelching, her moans start to get louder too as she slowly forgets about the situation she’s in. You wonder what’s going on in that head of hers but you decide not to disturb her lest you break her concentration. 

Total ignorance of her surroundings as Haseul treats her digits like a cock wanting to cum deep inside of her, her pussy leaks so much that it coats her hand and the seat in her own juices, her moans turn to shouts of passion as her hips grind against her hand. You notice Haseul starting to arch her back and her legs closing around her fingers, she’s close and you both know it. Maybe she will be able to do something that pleases you for once today.

That is, until the car comes to a complete stop. You look out of your window and there you see the taxi and you can kinda see Haseul still going at it inside. It’s only when the driver clears his throat that she notices she’s at her destination “Ma’am… ummm, we’re here.” Haseul’s eyes go completely wide as she looks forward at the driver’s seat but the shock of finding out that the driver sees her in such a state doesn’t compare to when she looks at her phone to see your blank stare. You let out a sigh and shake your head. “Just pay him well for his troubles. Leave your clothes there, I’ll meet you inside.” Your deadpan delivery is like a knife through her heart, you can see Haseul on the verge of tears just by talking to her like that. 

Haseul takes out two yellow bills from her wallet and hands them to the driver using her clean hand. “K-Keep the change,” she says as she bows profusely before exiting the taxi. You see Haseul step out of the vehicle in full nude, the neighborhood isn’t that packed with houses spaced far enough apart from each other but hopefully a neighbor or two gets a nice show of a busty woman running up to your house.

Haseul tries to greet you with a warm smile but the disappointment on your face makes her want to ball up in shame. You take her bag and throw it across the room, Haseul’s face is full of fear, not from the potential damage to her belongings but with how you stare her down. You grab her by the neck and pin her against the wall, Haseul immediately starts to choke and her hands involuntarily rise to meet yours but make no attempt to pull you off of her.

“I told you to be here by 5, not 5:30 but 5.” Your free hand rises and comes crashing down straight onto Haseul’s cheek immediately leaving a bright red mark on it. “Master, we—” The back of your hand meets her other cheek, for you it stings a little as you make contact but you’re sure Haseul gets the worse end. “Excuses, excuses, excuses. Don’t you bullshit me with any of that.”

“What’s this?” You point at the word still tattooed to her chest “Can’t even clean yourself properly?” Another offense, another slap. “And you can’t even cum when I ask you to, you’ve disappointed me thrice today, before even setting foot in my place. Three times, Haseul, just be thankful no one else is around or else I would have sent you away by now.” Another backhand strikes Haseul and tears start to stream down her face. “If you ever disappoint me again today, I’m calling someone else in. I’m gonna tie you up and make you watch as I fuck someone else and call them my favorite toy.”

You let go of Haseul and she crumbles into a sobbing mess on the floor, she kneels and holds onto your legs, crying and begging. “I’m sorry, Master. I-I’ll do anything, be anything. Treat me like a whore, use me how you see fit.” It’s such an empowering feeling having such a respected woman like Haseul be on her knees with her ass hanging higher than her own head and completely belittling herself for your own pleasure.

Haseul stays put, not moving an inch from her position if not told to. You bend down and caress her ass, your hand travels down along her spine and meets her head where you grab a handful of her long black hair and tug her upright. Haseul’s face is such a mess, one side is reddened while the other is slightly bruised.

You pull your pants down and bring your cock out. Before Haseul can even ready herself, you’re already pushing yourself past her lips, showing no remorse as you completely sheathe yourself in her mouth. Haseul chokes and gags repeatedly, spewing spit out of the corners of her lips faster than tears can come out of her eyes.

You grip the sides of Haseul’s head and repeatedly slam her face against your pelvis, she coughs every time you hilt and it’s just one of the most pleasant sounds you’ve heard all day. You don’t stop to even consider her well-being, not even giving her a chance to adjust herself or at least prepare, sometimes you even forget that the thing you’re using is less of a thing and more of a living breathing human-being.

Haseul keeps eye contact with you, through the pain, through the tears, her stare says a lot. Her stare tells you to keep going, to not stop, to give her the punishment she deserves. 

There’s no love, no care, no sympathy, no passion that goes into every shove you make against the back of her head. It’s all just anger and lust powering your hands and hips, just all the stress and sexual aggression expressed with the way you make Haseul take your entire length inside of her mouth. However, it’s not enough, you need more, Haseul needs more. Simply using her head like your own personal fleshlight isn’t enough, not degrading enough, not dehumanizing enough. This isn’t even entirely a punishment, it’s just one of Haseul’s many duties as a toy dialed up to an 11.

You pinch her nose closed and Haseul’s teary eyes begin to resonate with fear once more. Instantly you begin to feel her throat tighten as she struggles to breathe through her mouth. She tries to breathe in some air when your cock has mostly gone out of the way but then you just thrust in again while Haseul is inhaling and she chokes more intensely than before. You didn’t think her mouth could have been any better but here you are now, enjoying the best blowjob you’ve had in a while from someone nearly about to pass out.

Haseul lightly taps on your leg to give some warning but rather than slow down you just speed up, giving her less room to get oxygen. You begin to feel the rise of an overpowering sensation but at the same time you start to see Haseul’s eyes slowly closing. You quickly pull out and Haseul heavily gasps for air, mouthing a silent “Thank you” as she looks at you with grateful eyes. 

After a few huffs you thrust back inside while Haseul’s in the middle of taking in some air. She chokes uncontrollably and it only serves as intense pleasure for you as her throat constricts you harder than any other body part of hers could manage. You pinch her nose again while keeping your other hand firmly on the back of her head. You start to thrust your hips in time with each slam of her head, ridding whatever sense of care you have left for her. With the added pressure around your girth it didn’t take long for you to start erupting inside Haseul, the first few bursts went straight down but you made sure that the rest pools up on her tongue. 

You pull yourself out and Haseul collapses again, this time on her side. She holds her neck as she coughs wildly, spilling a lot of spit and cum in front of her. After, she lays quietly on her side, mouth open, drool dripping, making an absolute mess on your pristine floor. You grab Haseul’s bag and rummage through her belongings to find her phone then you start taking pics of her pathetically lying on the ground. “Aww, look at you, so pretty down there.” You then get close to her face and take close-up shots of her disheveled face with all the different liquids covering it. “This one looks perfect,” you say as you change her wallpaper to one of the pictures you’ve taken, replacing the one from the previous session which was her mouth full of piss. You take a few more pictures of Haseul from different angles before putting her phone aside.

Finally done with your fun, you nudge Haseul with your foot, “Get up, clean your mess.” However, Haseul doesn’t budge so you tap her with your foot again, “I said clean your mess, don’t make me ask a third time.” You can tell that she’s listening to you with the way she tries to move her body but fails to find the strength to move. Growing impatient, you take matters into your own hands. You roll her over on her stomach and press her face against the cold tile, immediately you can hear her mouth sucking away at the spill she has created. 

As you leave Haseul to work like a makeshift vacuum, you kneel and turn your attention to hear rear, raised high up to be presented just for you. Her legs shimmer under the light, covered in a fresh coat of her own juices, you glance and confirm a wet stain on your floor where she once knelt. You slide two fingers across her slit and gather up her nectar. You give it a little lick then give an unamused sigh, it’s still that same salty taste with a bit of sweetness. Not nearly as delicious as any of the others you have tasted, maybe you should start controlling her diet too, you make a mental note for yourself for the future

“You haven’t came yet, right Haseul?” you ask as you stick the same two fingers inside her cunt, Haseul squirms at the sudden invasion of her entrance. “N-No, Master,” she momentarily stops cleaning the floor to answer, there’s a hint of hope in her voice, perhaps longing to finally climax ever since her escapade in the taxi. But you have no plans for that, instead you push her head back down, “Keep it that way. Since your pussy has disappointed me already today, I think I’ll use your ass. If you cum before I do, well let’s just say I won’t be happy about it.” You give her a spank as you chuckle, a sick and twisted game for you to enjoy and for her to suffer through. Haseul’s body tenses up and her rim puckers as you mention the last line, she was close to release prior to her arrival so keeping it in for longer would be a pain. “Yes, Master, I will.” The pain and sadness is evident in her voice, trying her best to keep it together.

You line yourself up and instantly push through into her sphincter, the two of you groan out loud as it proves harder to penetrate Haseul’s ass this time around. You can feel Haseul tightening herself up, creating a grip so strong it rivals that of her air-deprived throat. Continue to push, dig your fingers into her flesh as you pull her hips towards you. Grunt as every inch gets slowly devoured by her ass, slowly but surely you make your way deeper and deeper until you feel her skin touch with yours. It feels tighter than her mouth but that’s all it’s got going for it, doesn’t have the choking sensation of her throat, the wet and rough feeling of her tongue, or the warm embrace of her lips. If you could fuck her face the way you did earlier all the time then you would do it but what you want is to harm her, not impair her.

You keep yourself still and bask in the effort of Haseul squeezing herself around you but other than that, there’s nothing else except for the sounds of heavy breathing. You tug on Haseul’s hair and lift her up, on the floor remains some of the mess she had made prior but regardless it remains. You pull her so that your mouth can reach her ear then you whisper, “Didn’t I tell you to clean that up already?” You lick the back of her ear then bite on it, Haseul shouts in pain, if you bit any stronger you probably would have made it bleed. “Y-Yes, Master. I’m sorry, I will do my job,” she says frantically. You slowly lower her but halfway down you let go and let her fall, Haseul barely catches herself just in time to not faceplant on the ground.

As she starts lapping the floor up like a thirsty dog, you feel her ass unclench every now and then. It seems like having her focus split between a degrading task and a mind-numbing condition is too much for her to handle all at once. 

You begin to slide out slowly, then back in, then out, then in. Finding a relaxed pace to start with, you aren’t entirely cynical, you want to see Haseul succeed in at least one task you’ve assigned her. You continue to pace your cock in and out of her ass while listening to a cycle of moans, heavy breaths, and sucks coming from way below you.

Sing a tune in your head, gauge the passing seconds. Count the time in your head but without a clock you couldn’t really be truly sure, has it been a minute? Maybe two? Three? Did you sing too fast? Too slow? Regardless you start counting down from sixty, mentally giving Haseul one last minute to see if she can do it. You’re rooting for her, really, it’s a little sad seeing Haseul fail so many things in so little time, it’s unlike her. As much as she voices out how much she deserves punishment, she much prefers serving and obeying every command and order you give her.

“Five… four… three… two… one…” Time is up for your human mop. You pull out completely then tug her hair back forcefully. You look over her shoulder to assess the floor, you’re happy to see that it’s clean—but as you look closely, you see just a few drops of white still staining the ground. Haseul gasps as she notices it too, you turn to her and she breaks down crying. “I-I’m sorry, Master, I failed you. I don’t mean to disappoint you like this, p-punish me, hurt me… I-I deserve this for being so useless.”

You smile as you hear the sweet and delicate words escape Haseul’s lips, it really is an invigorating feeling, having all this power over someone, having so much influence over her that even simple changes in your expression can make or break her.

You let go of Haseul and stand. Unprompted, she turns around and kneels by your feet, a predicament she’s found herself countless times in the past that she no longer needs to be told what to do. She keeps her hands on her lap, her eyes closed, and her face pointing up at you. 

You had a different plan in mind for her but this alternative would suffice, you wouldn’t turn down such an offer especially when it’s presenting itself like that, only a madman would pass up such an opportunity. And besides, nothing wrong with giving a little something extra. After all, it wouldn’t hurt anyone—well, anyone besides Haseul.

You cup the side of Haseul's face, soft and delicate to the touch, pristine skin ruined by hints of abuse made by you and you’re only going to make it look worse. It’s a shame really, a pretty and elegant face like hers reduced to an outlet of anger and disappointment. But you couldn’t really care less, in fact it uplifts you to see such beauty defiled and you take immense pleasure being the sole cause of it.

Haseul’s breath begins to hitch, the anticipation getting the best of her, a torture in and of itself. She’s not used to this, having your hand be this close to her face without even as much as a sting let alone having it be touched so gently. You can’t help yourself, normally she’s a crying and begging mess by now but that extra second of staring at her makes you pause in your tracks. You feel your heart skip a beat as both your hands move to touch her face, brushing her cheeks, fixing stray hairs, wiping away spit and sweat. Haseul opens her eyes, staring back with a mixture of hesitation and awe. 

“Master—” Inquisitive and confused, Haseul looks at you like you’re a complete stranger “—please, punish me.” Her words bring you out of your daydream, slightly tearing something within you in the process, a part of you that you never knew existed in the first place. Haseul doesn’t want love or affection, she’s here to atone for her sins, to serve her master, to look up to someone much higher than her. For a second you lost track of that, for a second you saw her in a different light, saw yourself in a different light. But no, that’s not what you’re here for nor is it what she’s here for. 

You shrug off all unwanted feelings and focus back on the matter at hand. Though you hesitate, your brief moment of longing strikes weakness in you. Haseul begs with her eyes as she kneels on the ground, awaiting the punishment that you’re becoming too scared to give. Haseul takes your hand and puts it on her cheek. “Master, please.” You close your eyes as you wind your arm back, channeling your energy as you take a swing at Haseul’s face. Your hand connects and the slap echoes in the vicinity, you open your eyes to see Haseul with a bright red mark on her, crying silent tears as she continues to present her face. A part of you dies but another feels alive, the surge of adrenaline rushing through your body as you savor the sight beneath you. You take your arm back again, this time without hesitation, and deliver another slap right in the same spot, Haseul’s cheek glowing red from the harsh treatment.

You turn her around and kneel behind her, quickly resuming your position earlier—a hand gripping the roots of her long hair and another at her side. You put Haseul’s arms behind her back then outstretch your arm so that she’s right above the spot she missed on the floor, a constant reminder of her failure just staring her in the face. You line yourself back up to her rear entrance, “Remember, don’t cum before I do.” Haseul frantically nods her head as best she could, even before you finished your sentence, wanting to just get it out of the way and straight to the action.

The remainder of Haseul’s spit that coated your cock has long dried out by now, but that’s not really a problem for you to deal with. 

You spread one of her cheeks as much as you can to see the ever familiar hole looking at you and to make it easier for the both of you. Her rim already looks a little sore and red, you plan to make that better. Again, the initial push has some troubles as Haseul clenches herself, this time however, you aren’t going to go that easy on her. 

You push inside slow and steady but once the head has fully disappeared, you ram the rest of your length inside of her ass. The dry friction of her anal walls makes you groan but that doesn’t compare to what Haseul is feeling. Her scream almost splits your ears as you plunge your entirety within her. Her whole body tenses up from how sudden it was, you give her half a second to adjust before pulling out just enough then ramming back in. Out and in, out and in, out and in, only this time you’re going much harsher, much harder, much faster. Reducing Haseul to mere grunts and moans as her dry entrance greedily hugs you. 

Only after a while does Haseul find her voice again. “It hurts! Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Harder… harder, Master. Make it hurt more. Punish me like the bitch that I am!” The words just flow naturally out of her, profanities, moans, and whatever other degrading name just spew out of her mouth like it’s nothing. Haseul is truly in her element—pain and punishment, nowhere else have you seen her with such drive and energy. 

You do as requested, digging your digits into her side as you pound her hard. However, you find your grip rather unsatisfactory, with one hand holding her head up, having just one on her hip isn’t doing the job you want it to do. You adjust higher and higher on her body until your hand is pulling down on her shoulder. Your nails dig into her skin and your hand grips the base of her hair with all your might, each earning their own screams of pleasing pain from Haseul. 

Haseul’s in her element, perhaps a little bit too much. You start to notice her letting loose and succumbing to the pain and pleasure. Her ass adjusts and unclenches while her body goes limp and surrenders its weight to your hands. You aren’t even close to cumming yourself, you can only imagine where this will end up. 

“I’m so close… Master, I’m so close, please…” In between moans, Haseul utters breathless warnings of her coming orgasm. You try to open your mouth but by then it’s too late, before even a single sound escapes from your lips, Haseul’s has made plenty. “FUCK! Oh, fuck! Master… I’m… ahhh—“ Her legs quiver and give way, leaving her entire weight to be held up through your two hands on her upper body. 

Another mess on your floor, another order disobeyed, another punishment waiting to be given. 

You pull out then pull Haseul by her hair towards you, forcing her to kneel down and face you head on. The sudden sharp pain pulls Haseul down from her high and the horror returns on her face. She slowly shakes her head as tears pour down once more, whispering between heavy breaths, “No… please… I’m sorry… Master, forgive me…”

“You can’t cum when I ask you to and then you cum when I tell you not to,” you say disappointedly, you send a quick text on your phone as you shake your head. “How many is that now, five? At least five times you couldn’t do what I told you to do? What happened, Haseul? You were doing just fine yesterday.” You simply sigh at Haseul who looks on with pure terror in her eyes opposing your rather blank stare. 

To you it’s all just a game, all just pleasure, but to Haseul it’s way beyond that—it’s worship, subservience, servitude. You couldn’t really care less who is kneeling down in front of you with the multitude of toys that you own but to Haseul, you’re her one and only, the only master she serves, the one she devotes herself to.

“Did you have a change of heart all of a sudden, are punishments the only thing you want now? Because that’s not that hard to give.” Your arm swings wide and your palm connects with her face, so strong it almost toppled her over. “See? It’s so simple. If that’s all you want then all you have to do is tell me, I don’t mind.” Your other arm mimics the same motion, equalizing the redness on Haseul’s cheeks.

Haseul just shakes her head, “N-No, Master. I… I wish to serve and follow you. But… punish me when I deserve it and right now I deserve to be punished, Master.” Haseul closes her eyes and braces herself for another hit which you gladly give, this one stronger than the previous, this one sending her falling to her side. Haseul catches herself then gets back to position, raising her head while on her knees, presenting her face to receive another slap.

Slap after slap befalls Haseul, her cheeks get redder and redder with some parts a deeper shade of red than her pale lips. You’ve lost count of how many slaps you have given by now but it’s gotten to the point where your palms start to sting. But no matter how many times you slap Haseul, no matter how many times she falls down, she remains relentless. Even with tears rolling down her face, Haseul doesn’t hesitate one bit to get back on her knees and present her face. That’s what you love about Haseul, the persistence she has even in the face of pain and disappointment, she keeps pushing through, all just to please you. But unfortunately for her, the amusement you have gotten from her tenacity doesn’t amount to the dissatisfaction she’s earned throughout the few hours you’ve been with her today.

You continue to release your pent up aggression through your palms connecting with her delicate cheeks but no matter how many you’ve given and how many you continue to give, it just isn’t enough. As much as you like to use Haseul as your outlet, the sheer amount of displeasure she’s given doesn’t make it as satisfying for you. No matter how strong or how often, it still never seems to be enough, it’s gotten to the point where the problem has outgrown its source.

You start to wind your arm back when your phone starts to ring. “I wonder who could that be,” you say rather rhetorically with a smirk on your face, the once lifeless and weak Haseul suddenly springs up as she hears the call incoming, dread and anxiety loom over her as the implication of your words mean anything but good news. “I’m sorry, Haseul, but today I’m just starting to doubt you. Thankfully there’s someone here who can help me fix that problem of yours.” You answer and on the screen pops up a very, very familiar face to the both of you.

A/N 2: poll - https://strawpoll.com/xVg7j76vrnr

[magneticflower]

Until Dawn Ask Meme

What character do you think you would be most like if you were thrusted into a situation like this?

What’s your favorite chapter?

Who are your favorite characters?

Do you have any part that you just didn’t care for all that much?

What are your favorite moments/scenes?

What character first caught your eye?

Which character quickly rose to the top of your favorites?

What character did you not expect to love as much as you do now?

Was there any character that you ended up not liking as much as you thought you would?

Which character design is your favorite?

What character or characters do you find most compelling?

Which character dynamics did you like best? Which did you not care for?

Which relationship was your favorite? (Platonic, romantic, or otherwise)

Which characters did you like seeing interact the most?

Which characters do you wish interacted more or just interacted at all?

What was the funniest scene to you?

What are your favorite quotes from the game?

Any character you thought deserved more time?

What character’s skillset would you want to have?

Were there any moments that really shocked you?

Were there any moments that made you angry?

What scene do you think played out perfectly?

Do you think anything should have played out differently?

If you could only change one thing that happened, what would you change and why?

Were you surprised by who the psycho was or did you know all along?

Did you like the Stranger?

What are your thoughts on the scenes with Dr. Hill?

Any fan theories that you find super interesting? Any that you don’t care for all that much?

Would you have agreed to return to the Washington lodge?

Any background information you wish we would have gotten about a character?

Which character do you think was the most fun/interesting to play the game through?

If you played it, who lived in your first playthrough? Were you happy with the outcome of your first playthrough?

How did you feel about the remaster? What did you like? What did you not care for? What would you have changed?

Do you think any character model looked better in the original over the remaster or vice versa?

Is there a scene you think was better in the original rather than the remaster or vice versa?

Do you like the new content in the remaster? Do you prefer the original or the remastered prologue?

Do you like the new potential ending?

Any opinion you have about a character that you'd like to share?

Any opinion take about a ship you'd like to share?

Any opinion on how a scene played out that you'd like to share?

Do you have any headcanons you want to share about (Insert character/ship/dynamic/etc)

What character do you wish had more time?

What death scene do you think is the saddest?

What death scene do you think is the worst one out of all of them?

What scene stuck with you the most?

What song(s) do you associate with (insert character or ship)?

How did you get into Until Dawn?

Link your favorite fanart(s) or fanfic(s)! 

Link your favorite edit(s)!

Link your favorite gifset(s)!

Link your favorite until dawn related post(s)!

Link your favorite until dawn blogs!

Freebie: Ask anything Until Dawn related!

I find fandom specific memes can be a good way to bring activity to the tags so I figured I create one--- reblog away! Hopefully it is a fun thing to do sjsj (I apologize in advanced if there are any repetitive questions sjsj) Also, feel free to send me some if you'd like

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @onthewaytosomewhere - it's always nice when I'm not kicking the week off lmao. I didn't get a lot of writing done this week because I was busy editing the Going Platinum podfic I posted today, but I've powered through so I have something to share!

Rockstar Alex is now officially fully epistolary, because I figured out how to get #3 from the five fun facts game into a fully epistolary format. If you are thinking to yourself, "Great! If it's fully epistolary then it can't hurt as much!" I would advise you to turn to your nearest Schitt's Creek fandom buddy who has read my fics in that fandom and ask them how they feel about chapter 5 of Meet me out at the end of my rope (aka angstapalooza), and calibrate accordingly 😈

SO. Below the cut is a little sneak peek of this with the skin on (and some bonus Reddit comments because when I go epistolary I go balls to the wall), but if you don't want to venture under the cut, enjoy the text version of an r/TIFU post:

TIFU by breaking my no-hookup rule Obligatory ‘this didn’t happen today’ but my friends are still making fun of me days later, so. I’m not a hookup/cruising kind of gay. Full respect to you if you are, it’s just never been my thing - I’m more of a serial monogamist type But it was my friend’s birthday last weekend and we all went out to a gay bar, and I ended up dancing with this guy who… honestly if I describe how off the charts hot he was you wouldn’t believe me anyway, so you’ll just have to trust me on this. He was there with a friend and the friend bought us a few rounds of vodka shots before fucking off somewhere, so me and this guy went back to dancing. And then the dancing was grinding, and then we were making out for a bit before he said he was gonna go to the bathroom with THAT head tilt. You know the one. Even my no-hookups ass knows the one. And yeah, I don’t do hookups, but fuck it. I said yes (I really cannot express how hot this guy was lol) and followed him to the bathroom. I won’t get into all the details but suffice to say getting blown by this dude was a religious experience. I’m just getting to the point of no return when he pulls back all of a sudden. And he’s got tears in his eyes, but I just thought it was from like… well, you know… but then he STOOD UP. I was like “what the fuck dude” and he just started APOLOGIZING, saying something about the song????? I hadn’t been paying attention tbh, I was a bit busy having my brains sucked out through my dick, but this guy just muttered something about the song and his ex and then he LEFT ME in the fucking club bathroom, dick bobbing in the wind. I think I’m back to no hookups from now on tbh. TL;DR: first ever hookup ended with a stranger literally sobbing his way off my dick, and ACD’s new song is a banger, but I’ll probably never be able to hear it without thinking of the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @blairwaldcrf @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[kinzis-writing]

Jellyfish | Tee Higgins

Summary: a Jellyfish tank in your boyfriend's house, what could go wrong?

Pairing: Tee Higgins x Reader

Requested: Yes | No based on this request.

Warnings: mentions of jellyfish as pets? suggestive content, i think that's all.

Note: This has taken exactly two months and I apologize! I am finally rolling with requests so let me know if you want me to write anything. Also, if this isn't what you wanted, feel free to let me know. This was requested by an anon, so I cannot tag a certain account!

*Not edited or proofread*

Word count: 2.01k

When your boyfriend, Tee, had mentioned getting a Jellyfish tank. You thought he was joking, that was until you walked into his house and noticed big boxes sitting on his living room floor. It was then that you noticed he had bought a Jellyfish tank, and he was getting ready to buy some to put into the tank.

“Hey baby,” Tee greeted as he got up and placed a kiss on your cheek and gave you a quick hug. “How many Jellyfish do you think I should buy for the tank?”

Y/N eyed the boxes before turning her attention to her boyfriend. It was offseason and she knew that he would be back at practice before too long. “You’re actually making a tank?” she asked carefully. “I thought that was just a dream.”

Tee shrugged his shoulders before looking at the computer in front of him, “Why not make It a reality?” He spoke his eyes while staying trained on the computer. “You think three would be enough? What light should I get?”

“I think three is more than enough.” Y/N mumbled not sure on how this whole experience would go. She knew that it had been on her boyfriend’s mind for a minute, but she didn’t know that her boyfriend had been serious. She thought it was one of his intriguing thoughts.

Y/N was right that three was more than enough, seeing as the Jellyfish had not survived the trip the first time. Tee was disappointed that he would not be able to put Jellyfish in his tank right now and He was looking for a safer way to get them to his home. He had to start practicing within the next few days and he was finally getting his tank installed correctly by someone he had paid to come do it.

“Be honest with me, am I getting too crazy?” Tee asked Y/N as he watched the men put the tank together easily and do it in no time.

Y/N shrugged her hands wrapping around his muscular arms, “Maybe a little, but it is why I love you so much.” She muttered, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on his lips. “Whether I act like it or not, I want whatever you want because I want you happy.” She added honestly giving his arm a squeeze before heading to the master bedroom and grabbing her extra work uniform. She always left clothes here in case she ended up staying all night with him. “I have to go to work but I will see you later.” She told him before kissing him quickly and bidding each other goodbye to head off so she could support herself. One thing she would never do is ask Tee for money or use any of his money, because she has a great Job and can support herself.

It had been two or three months since Tee had gotten his Jellyfish tank installed and he had still yet to put any Jellyfish in it, but the Bengals games had started so his time to focus on his tank was limited. Today they were facing off against the Buffalo Bills in Cincinnati. Y/N had gotten herself ready in her Higgins Jersey and headed to the stadium. She knew that she could meet up with Tee’s mom and sit next to her so they could support their boy together.

Y/N grabbed her clear bag out of the passenger seat of her car once she had found a parking spot and made her way into the stadium. She was a bit early, but lines to the games started to get long within two or more hours before the game. Everyone wanted to make sure they could see the boys practice and warm up.

Once getting past security and getting her pass, she made her way to the stadium seats, Tees mom usually showed up around 30 minutes after her, so she knew that her man’s momma would be there soon. Y/N had made sure that her tickets were next to the field so she could easily reach Tee in case of emergency, but mainly because she could see him for a moment before the game.

“You look fine, can I get those digits?” A voice called up to you as a grin spread on your face. Your heart filled with love as you turned around and walked to the edge of the seats.

You shook your head and thought for a moment, “I have a boyfriend, I don’t think he’d be so happy to share me.” You responded finally leaning over to where you could meet him face to face.

Tee grinned, his perfect smile causing your smile to grow back once more. “You right,” He nodded. “You look great in my jersey, baby.” He then leaned up to meet you in a kiss. It was quick but passionate so attention wouldn’t be drawn to you too consistently.

“You say that every time.” You muttered when the kiss ended.

“Only speak the truth,” He shrugged before Chase was calling him over. “I’ll see you after the game.”

You nodded before leaning down a placing a “good luck kiss” on his cheek and lips, “Go beat those Bills.”

“That’s the plan.” He winked before starting to walk away, He paused for a moment and turned around to face you again, “I love you.” He added before running over to the guys he considered his brothers.

“I love you.” You mumbled to yourself before turning back and walking the couple steps to your seat. Tee’s mother had joined by the time that you had gotten done talking to Tee. “Hey, how are you?” You asked as you gave Tee’s momma a hug before sitting down beside her.

You and Tee’s momma made small talk while you waited for the guys to come out after they finished warming up. “Is he still wanting Jellyfish?” His momma asked you to know that he had discussed this with both woman on many different occasions. “He told me about the mishap.”

You nodded at the mention of his last Jellyfish purchase, “Yeah, He still wants some.” You assured her as the team came running out and you two stood up so you could cheer your man on. “I actually got paid last week and there’s some supposed to be delivered today, I was counting on beating him to his house and getting it ready.” You explained as they did the coin toss and the kickoff started.

“That is very sweet of you, He is so lucky to have someone care for him like you do.” She gushed as the game in front of the two progressed. “He was worried about finding someone because of his job and he didn’t want someone who wanted him for the wrong reasons. I am beyond thankful that he found you.”

You teared up hearing how highly Tee’s mom talked about you. Never had you had any potential in-laws to talk so kindly to you. Most of the time, your ex’s parents didn’t like you or had other things to say about you. It felt nice to have someone on your side since you were deeply in love with her son. “Thank you, that means a lot.” You told her honestly as you blinked the tears away. “I truly love him, and you’re his favorite woman so I am happy that we have this bond.” You explained.

After the conversation settled, you guys’ paid attention to the game. With Tee’s momma yelling at him from the stands to catch the ball, not to drop the ball, and so on. In the end, the Bengal’s had beaten the Bills and it was a win under Cincinnati’s belt.

After the game, you had spoken to Tee’s mom for a bit longer before bidding her farewell and safe travel. You had also found Tee and told him that you were heading to his house, and he could meet you there. To which he agreed and understood because he would be a minute. So, you had made sure to rush to his house, but made sure to be careful enough to not wreck. You had to get his Jellyfish in the tank before he got home so you could surprise him. He hadn’t known that they were ordered and since they were on the cheaper side compared to the items he usually bought, you made sure to buy them for him.

Once arriving at his house, you located the Jellyfish and googled and watched videos on how to properly transfer them so they would not die or have any issues. Once watching the videos and you felt you could safely transfer them. You placed them in the tank and made sure the tank was officially ready.

Once the Jellyfish were in the tank floating around, you made sure to turn the lights off, so they would emit the light of the tank. After watching them intrigued, you quickly tracked Tee’s location before facetiming his mother so you could ask her what she thought.

“Is it set up?” she asked after the initial starter conversation.

“Yes,” You replied as you flipped the camera and showed her the three Jellyfish floating in the big tank that he had bought. “Do you think he’ll like it?” You asked nervously. What if he wanted to buy the Jellyfish himself? What if he had a change of heart? Tee was someone who hated it when you spent your money on him, because he felt as though he had enough money if he ever wanted or needed anything. Which is why you resulted in the Jellyfish since they were $30 apiece.

“Oh, I think he’ll love it.” She spoke with so much emotion in her voice. “I sure do hope that you’re going to be my daughter-in-law.”

You spoke to his mother for a few more minutes before getting off the phone once you tracked your shared location and he was in the driveway. You quickly rushed through the living room and to the front door when you heard the door open.

“Why are the lights off?” He asked once he noticed you walking up towards the door.

You gave him a smile, “I have a surprise for you!” You spoke with excitement. It was getting harder to keep this a surprise and you were beyond happy that he would be seeing what you had been keeping for the past week.

A smirk appeared on his face for a moment, “What kind of surprise?” he asked in a certain tone.

You scoffed a bit knowing where he was going with it but brushed it off as you grabbed his hand and led him to the living room. The LED light lit up most of the space and the three Jellyfish floated around in the cylinder fish tank that he had bought.

Tee’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of the Jellyfish in his tank that he had gotten installed. “Did you buy those for me?” he asked as he turned to you.

You shrugged a huge smile on your face, “Who else would I buy Jellyfish for and store them in your house?” You asked rhetorically.

“I love you so much!” Tee mumbled before turning and pulling you into a hug. You already knew how excited he was, seeing as he was usually cool, calm, and collected. Yet, he was becoming Giddy like a child on Christmas morning because he officially had Jellyfish in his house. “You are the best girlfriend ever.”

You shrugged a cocky smile making its way on your face, “I try.” You joked before meeting him in a kiss full of passion and love. “Seriously though, I love you and I hope you understand how much you mean to me. Think of this as payback for all the “because you’re having a bad day” gifts that I have received from you.” She explained, noticing the happiness all over his face.

“I’m going to marry you one day.”

“That’s the plan, Tamaurice.”