#so they just told me to think if I really needed it

[mochacoda]

python | csc

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x GN!Reader

Synopsis: When you broke up with your boyfriend to work in a different country, you didn't expect to see him ever again. But when you transfer to your company's Seoul branch four years later, the department head is your ex, and he’s made it his objective to make your life a living hell for leaving him all those years ago.

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Exes to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: emotions, miscommunication, heartache, workaholic!seungcheol, insecure reader, drinking, crying, begging, petnames (sweetheart, love), konglish w/ translations, no "y/n," this is for everyone who voted for cheol in the poll, loosely connected to too nice (joshua)

Word Count: 10K

Masterlist

“I hate him,” you seethe, your fists balled up, crumpling your rejected proposal. “God, I hate him.”

Your coworker, Joshua Hong, looks up from his cubicle with raised eyebrows. “Who?”

You breathe in deeply, willing your rage to dissipate at the sight of his confusion. Poor Joshua doesn’t deserve your anger. “No one,” you say, clenching your jaw. 

Open-mouthed, Joshua blinks rapidly, eyes flitting over to glance at the office you had just walked out of. The door to the room is marked with a name plate that has 최승철 [Choi Seungcheol] in bold, gold letters. 

“I’m fine,” you insist, hands uncrumpling the document you had just attacked. 

“Uh, okay?” he says with a healthy dose of doubt, elongating the “o” in “okay.” 

“I just—” you begin, then immediately shut your mouth. “Ugh, forget it.”

It’s one thing to crumple a proposal up, and another thing to start bad-mouthing your boss out in the open. You throw the tattered outline onto your desk, then plop yourself onto your chair. You rub your temples, and then mutter under your breath, “How did I get here?”

“Good question,” Joshua laughs. “Company synergy?” 

You groan, “Don’t ever say that word again in my presence.” 

“Mmh,” he says, walking over to your cubicle. “You won’t have to worry about my presence in a few months.” 

“Don’t remind me,” you sigh, dropping your head in your hands. 

Joshua would be leaving the Seoul branch and transferring to the New York branch in a few weeks. 

Curse your company for its commitment to “workplace synergy,” swapping out a handful of employees across all departments in its international branches every few years. If it hadn’t been for this horrible program, you wouldn’t be here right now. 

You want to rip out your own hair, at this point.

How did it even get to this? You shut your eyes, thinking back to simpler times. 

When you first got a job offer at the New York branch of your dream company, your initial reaction was elation. Your second? Doubt. Leaving Seoul was almost unthinkable, not to mention the fact that you’d be leaving your boyfriend behind, too. 

For the first few days after hearing back from the recruiter, you knew you’d accept, but kept the news to yourself. You’d heard of so many horror stories about long-distance dating, and after a long period of consideration, you wondered what the point was. 

You knew your boyfriend—really knew him. You knew he’d make sacrifices for you at the expense of himself, and it was impossible for you to accept bogging him down with a 14 hour time difference. He’d stay up waiting for your calls, instead of getting much needed rest. He’d worry about you all the time, checking the weather in Manhattan instead of Seoul and calling you constantly instead of his family and friends. He’d wait on you for as long as you needed, in an almost obsessive way, thinking it could make up the difference in distance. But he deserved someone who could love him in person, all of the time. 

It’d be better for Seungcheol if you just let him go, freeing him to focus on what mattered more to him. Like work.

He loved you too much to break things off with you himself, so it was better that you did it. For his own good. 

That’s what you told him, at least. 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“Cheol,” you said, teary-eyed. “Cheol, look at me.”

Seungcheol stared blankly at the ground, face frozen. 

“Please?” your voice cracked.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle?” he suddenly choked out, eyes flashing with hurt. His hands clenched, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

You swallowed thickly, reaching for his arm. “Cheol, I—”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, snatching his hand away from you. 

────୨ৎ──── 

But you had swallowed the real reasons for the breakup. 

Because, deep down, you had always suspected otherwise. Somehow, everything had just become so complicated. Loving Seungcheol—which had once been something as easy as breathing—had become a dull pain in your chest, clouding your every thought with insecurities. 

Even from the start of the relationship, you’d loved him more, anyway. Back then, you didn’t mind it because you loved him so much, and he was always so, so sweet to you. But around the time of the job offer, paranoia had reared its ugly head, kicking your uncertain thoughts into overdrive. 

It was obvious that he didn’t really love you anymore. While you were job seeking, he was distracted. Always checking his phone, not really listening to what you had to say. He made time for you, but he didn’t necessarily make you feel like he loved you as deeply as you did him—it didn’t feel like he was the same guy that you started dating. 

Something about his actions just felt like he did them to claim that he loved you, rather than because he actually loved you. His actions were laced with a kind of surface level, superficial quality. 

He’d take you out to a fancy dinner, open the door for you, pay for the meal, drive you home—all the gentlemanly things he did when you started dating, too. But on the car ride there and back, and while sitting down eating together, he wouldn’t remember the things you had said about the little things happening in your life—a major change, when compared to the start of your relationship. 

And sure, he didn’t have an obligation to remember your next door neighbor's name. But shouldn’t he remember your favorite kind of pie, or your closest cousin’s name? Shouldn’t he just know not to check his phone every time it pings with a new email, or leave you to eat your stupid expensive pasta alone as he takes a call outside?

It was almost like Seungcheol had fallen out of love with you, but was staying with you out of some kind of obligation to continue what he had started? That was your only explanation for why he’d spend time with you, but wouldn’t pay close attention to the things you said. Every Thursday was movie night, and in hopes of trying to keep him away from work, you let him choose the movie every time. But what use was that, when he spent more time looking at his phone than the TV—and more importantly, you, for that matter? 

You’d been dating a ghost of a man. While you loved him, he tolerated you. 

If the two of you stayed together when you went abroad, he’d probably double down on texts, but he wouldn’t really remember anything you’d said if you mentioned details about them in calls. 

You didn’t bring any of these fears up to him, because you knew that he would continue to deny it. In fact, you’d imagined it in your head so much that you could see it when closing your eyes to sleep. If you confronted him, he’d deny that he didn’t love you anymore. But he’d be staring at the ground instead of looking at you. He wouldn’t admit that he was only with you because he enjoyed the consistency of your affection, and because he somewhat pitied you—and most importantly to him, because he wanted to prove to himself that he chose correctly when he started dating you. 

The pain of watching the love of your life push down his repulsion just to be with you was decidedly more horrifying than the pain of breaking up with him altogether. 

Right before ending things, it had occurred to you that Seungcheol might not have ever loved you in the first place, and that just hammered in the idea that you were making the right decision. He’d get over the breakup fast. He’d probably be thankful for it in a few years, even. If you saw him again, you’d both probably laugh, and in his head, he’d realize that he was grateful that you ended things so that he could focus on his real love, his career. 

If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that there was a bit of selfishness driving the breakup, as well. There was no way you could handle Seungcheol sacrificing things for you—if he lost sleep over you, if he worried about you, if he was distracted by you—because you knew he wouldn’t be doing it for love. 

Because he only ever cared out of a superficial need to prove to himself that he made the right decision in asking you out all those years ago. Not because he really loved you. 

Yes, he probably never loved you, and he would never know the real reason why you ended things. 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You give up so easily,” he spat out. “Was I nothing to you?”

Tears were running down your face. “Don’t. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Seungcheol laughed, then buried his head in his hands. “God, to think I almost—” 

He stopped, jaw tightening, then shook his head like he couldn’t believe it.

────୨ৎ──── 

A hand comes down sharply on your desk, jolting you awake. 

“Sleeping while on duty?”

Wide-eyed, with tear-stained cheeks, you look up to face your ex-boyfriend. “부장님! [Department Head!]” 

Upon seeing your red-rimmed eyes, Seungcheol falters.

Swiping at your under eyes quickly, you bow your head to him slightly. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

He swallows roughly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to ask you why you were crying, and your heart drops. 

You will crumble if you hear the tone of voice he had used when you broke up with him.

“Excuse me,” you blurt with choked words. 

You don’t dare to look at his eyes. Instead, you get up from your seat, then immediately flee to the bathroom.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You can focus on work, now,” you squeaked out. 

Seungcheol scoffed again, a cruel sound of disbelief. “What makes you think I give a damn about work right now?”

“Don’t you? Always?” you sniffled.

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite describe. He seemed angry, but not just at you. At himself, too—his hands were balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging sharply into his palms. His throat bobbed, and you could see the intense restraint he was forcing on himself. He opened his mouth with a sharp breath, then closed it again, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself. 

────୨ৎ──── 

You stare with glassy eyes at yourself in the mirror, trying to calm your racing heart down. It would be alright. You would be alright. 

If you just focused on your work, it would be fine. 

Leaving the bathroom, you square your shoulders. You’ll draft up a new proposal that suits his standards, and you’ll do it so excellently that he can’t possibly reject it. 

Hours later, and you’re standing outside Seungcheol’s office again. Taking a deep breath, you walk in without knocking or announcing yourself. 

The stack of papers trembles in your hands as you place them on Seungcheol’s desk. You keep your expression blank, steadying your breath, willing yourself not to let any emotion slip. “This is the revised proposal.”

Seungcheol doesn’t look up immediately. He takes his time flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room is suffocating, thick with words left unsaid from years ago. You stand stiffly, waiting, watching the way his fingers drag across the paper. Finally, he exhales sharply and sets the proposal down.

The room is unbearably silent as the question of approval hangs in the air. Your heart pounds so loudly you swear he can hear it.

He should say no immediately. It would be the easiest answer. The logical one. The one you expect.

But he hesitates.

His fingers curl against the polished surface of his desk, and his gaze lingers on the documents in front of him for just a second too long. It’s subtle—anyone else might not notice—but you do. His mask falters. Just a flicker.

And for a split second, you let yourself hope.

Then, his jaw tightens. His hands retreat beneath the table, as if physically pulling himself back. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, controlled, and restrained—nothing like the eager, puppy-like man you knew him as when you first started dating.

“We’ll have to decline,” he says, and it’s final. Unshakable. Like he hadn’t wavered at all.

You swallow hard, nodding stiffly as if you hadn’t just watched something slip through his fingers. As if it hadn’t slipped through yours, too.

“Decline?” you blurt.

His face remains impassive. “Yes.”

You blink at him, momentarily stunned. You had anticipated that he would be difficult, but this—it’s too fast, too dismissive.

You steel yourself. “Why?”

“It’s not good enough.”

Your fingers clench around the hem of your blazer. “Can’t you separate private and work life?”

He meets your gaze, eyes dark and cool. “I am.” His voice is devoid of any warmth. “I don’t care. Your proposal is bad.”

The words strike harder than they should, more than just a professional critique. A cruel, deliberate dismissal. You know it’s personal—for the past two weeks that you’ve been at the Seoul branch, it has always been personal when it comes to him. Your blood simmers.

“I see.” You force your voice to remain level. “Would you like to point out what’s wrong with it?”

His lips press into a thin line. “No.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escapes you. “Of course not.”

Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Four years ago, you didn’t choose me. So why should I choose your useless proposal?”

The shift is abrupt, the air sucked out of the room in an instant. Your nails dig into your palms.

“I have never loved anyone more than I loved you.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them, the truth of them ringing through the silence.

He scoffs, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something raw. “You left me,” he says, voice edged with something dangerously close to hurt. “You. Left. Me.”

Your breath shudders. “You left me first.”

He leans forward, eyes searching yours, like he’s daring you to take it back. “How?” His voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “How did I leave you, when I was the one you abandoned in Seoul?”

Your vision blurs slightly. This. This is why it never worked between the two of you. He’s too bull-headed to even consider that he was in the wrong. 

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you fight for us?”

His jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you?”

A bitter taste coats your tongue. “You gave up so easily.”

His eyes flash. “No,” he says sharply, “you’re the one who brought up work all the time.”

Your hands tremble. “Because if it wasn’t about work, you wouldn’t talk to me!”

That stuns him. His mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out. His brows knit together, the first crack in his mask of indifference.

You exhale shakily, pressing forward. “Because if I talked about anything else, I knew you wouldn’t listen,” you whisper, voice breaking. “I knew I’d be talking to a man who loved the idea of me more than he actually loved me.”

Seungcheol flinches as if you had struck him. His throat bobs, hands clenched into fists on top of his desk. “That’s not true,” he grits out, but there’s something in his voice—something unsteady, like the words are slipping through his fingers before he can stop them.

“Isn’t it?” you press. His breathing turns uneven, his jaw tightening like he’s physically holding himself back.

“You made me feel like I was a burden,” you continue, the words tumbling out, years of buried pain unraveling in real time. “Like you had to tolerate me between meetings and emails. Like being with me was just another responsibility to check off your list.”

He exhales sharply, like the air’s been knocked out of his lungs. His fingers twitch, gripping the desk so tightly that his knuckles go white. “That’s not—” He stops, biting his tongue, like even he can’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “You don’t even believe yourself, do you?”

Seungcheol stands abruptly, chair scraping against the floor, his composure unraveling before your eyes. “I worked so damn hard for us,” he says, voice raw.

Your voice is small. “I never asked you to.”

His lips part, and for the first time since you stepped into his office, his expression isn’t blank or cold—it’s vulnerable. And it terrifies you.

His expression cracks, pain flickering through his eyes. “I was trying to build a future for you,” he says, voice raw, desperate. “For us.”

“You were so busy planning a future that you forgot to love me in the present.”

A tense silence falls between you, the weight of the past pressing down on both of you like an unbearable force. His breaths are uneven, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping the edge of his desk.

Finally, he exhales, a bitter, tired laugh leaving his lips. He looks down at the proposal—still sitting there, untouched, still rejected.

“This meeting is over,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

Your heart clenches painfully, but you nod, blinking rapidly to push back the tears. Without another word, you turn on your heel and walk out, leaving behind the shattered remnants of everything you once were.

When you get back to the safe haven that is your apartment, you retrace everything he had said. Or, rather, the accusations he had thrown at you. 

“You left me.”

“I was the one you abandoned in Seoul.”

“Why didn’t you fight for us?” “Why didn’t you?”

“I was trying to build a future for you. For us.”

Your heart strangely aches, remembering how shaken he looked when you called out his workaholic behavior. You had blamed him for the end of it all, but it takes two to end a relationship. Why didn’t you fight harder for him, back then? 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

You’re alone now. It’s what you wanted. To be free from the self-doubt that loving Seungcheol had drilled into you. 

Your chest constricted so tightly, you couldn’t breathe. 

────୨ৎ──── 

Two days after the disastrous office meeting, you’ve somehow managed to have the misfortune of sitting in front of your ex-boyfriend at a steakhouse for work. The restaurant is dimly lit, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space. Your body practically vibrates from the tension. 

You can see Seungcheol’s gaze turn sharper every time he looks at you, and it makes it all the more insulting when he immediately brightens at Director Chun. You chug another glass of wine, hoping the buzz will numb the annoyance bubbling within you. 

“Thank you, Director,” you say, reaching over the table to shake your superior’s hand. “It was a pleasure.”

“No, thank you, Team Leader,” he chuckles. “We’re lucky to have such competent, young people working for us. I’m sure the Brennans will be thrilled to see this project come to a close so quickly.”

Seungcheol laughs. “We’re lucky to have you, Director.”

It’s so fake, you’re itching to get rid of the stupid grin off his smug face. 

“I’m sorry I have to leave so soon,” the director continues. “I’ll see you two back at the office?”

“Of course,” you say, standing up and bowing to him as he gets up from his seat. 

When the director finally leaves, you can’t help but swallow roughly. You reach for the wine bottle, refilling your glass for the nth time tonight. The rest of the restaurant is loud, but it is far too quiet in your corner of the room. 

Now you’re alone with Seungcheol.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick and suffocating. Seungcheol, across from you, has his fingers curled tightly around the stem of his wine glass. His knuckles are practically white, the pressure of his grip betraying the storm raging inside him. 

He hasn’t touched much of his food, and barely spoke beyond a few clipped replies to you. He had really only responded to Director Chun all night. But it’s nothing new. You have long learned to recognize this silence; it’s the same, bitter one that had stretched between you in the months before you left him.

You don’t know why you told Joshua you could handle going to this. Why, after everything, did you let Seungcheol pull you into a setting so painfully intimate, so reminiscent of the past? The last time the two of you were in a restaurant like this, he had left for 40 minutes to take a call outside. 

Seungcheol swirls his drink absentmindedly, watching the ice shift in the glass before finally speaking. “You look well.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Small talk? Really?”

His jaw tightens, and he sets his glass down with a quiet thud. “Would you rather we skip the pleasantries?”

“I’d rather we not pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

“And what is it?”

You lift your chin. “You tell me.”

Seungcheol exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. He looks at you—really looks at you—for the first time since you sat down, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It’s the same expression he made when you were in his arms, four years ago.

The one that made you feel like the only person in the world. The one that he used to assure you that he loved you. 

And you hate yourself, because you can’t help but remember that he looked so good when he was yours. Worse, you can’t help but notice how he’s still devastatingly handsome. 

Only now, his gaze is shadowed with something darker. Something unresolved.

“You know, when you told me you wanted to end things, I could’ve accepted it,” he says, voice steady, but his fingers twitch slightly against the table. 

You swallow roughly.

“I could’ve accepted it if you said you just fell out of love with me,” he continues, “But then.” He takes a deep breath. “But then, you told me it was for my own good. That I wouldn’t be able to handle long distance.”

Your hands grip your wine glass. You want to say something, but you don’t know where to even start.

“You told me you loved me, and then…” he trails, before shakily saying, “abandoned me, because I couldn’t handle it?” He dips his head low, hands joining like he’s about to make a prayer. 

“Cheol, I—”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” 

Seungcheol stares intensely at his half-eaten steak, a strand of hair coming down from his forehead to poke at his eyes. Despite yourself, your hand instinctively lurches to tuck it behind his ears, before you quickly jolt it back. A cloud of shame begins to envelope your mind. It’s not fair. Why does your body remember him so well, even after he broke your heart? 

You swallow thickly, and he takes a shaky breath before speaking again. “And you know what, that wasn’t even the worst part. What was worse, was—” 

He gets choked up, then clenches his hands into fists to ground himself. “What’s worse, was what you said at the end.”

You furrow your brows, thinking back to all those years ago, right after you told him that he could finally focus on his work, and right before you walked away from him. 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you whispered. You didn’t dare to look at him. “I’m sorry I made you miss that convention for my birthday.” You sniffled, voice breaking. “You shouldn’t have had to do that. I’m sorry I made you watch those stupid movies, and that I made you go out when you didn’t want to. I should’ve been more considerate of your dreams, Cheol. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I only realized it now. I should’ve—”

You exhaled deeply, blinking your newest tears away. They fell down your cheeks in streams. “You won’t have to worry about that kind of useless stuff anymore, okay? You don’t need to deal with me anymore. I’m sorry you had to handle all of that for so long. I, I really lo…” 

You bit down on your lower lip, blinking desperately to get rid of your blurry vision. “I hope you get into the accelerator, Cheol. I know how hard you’ve worked for it. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” 

One last time, you smiled at him weakly, not meeting his eyes. “Goodbye, Cheol.”

And then you turned your back from him, walking away from the love of your life, partly because you really did wish him well on his startup journey, and mostly because you knew he was only with you out of obligation to himself—because he never loved you, anyway. 

────୨ৎ──── 

“Oh,” you say, eyes feeling strangely prickly. 

“I love—I loved you,” Seungcheol says, clutching his chest. He exhales roughly. “Did you not… see that?”

You blink rapidly.

His throat bobs as he swallows, eyes darting away for a brief moment. “I had plans for us,” he admits, voice quiet but strained. 

At the sight of his clear pain, your stomach twists uncomfortably. “Plans?”

He nods slowly, still refusing to meet your eyes. The candlelight on the table flickers between you, casting shadows that dance across his face, highlighting the tension in his furrowed brow. 

His mouth parts as if he’s about to say something—something important—but then he stops himself.

You reach across the table instinctively, your fingertips grazing his wrist. “Seungcheol. Don’t do this to me.”

He tenses beneath your touch but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he finally looks at you, and the sheer weight of emotion in his gaze nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. There is something so much in his eyes—anger, regret, sadness, and a deep emotion you haven’t dared call love in years. All tangled together in a way that makes it impossible to separate one from the other.

“I was going to propose to you,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitches. For a second, the world tilts, the steady hum of the restaurant fading into white noise. You blink, your mind scrambling to process the weight of his words. “What?”

Seungcheol lets out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head as if mocking himself. “I had the ring. I had everything planned out.” He exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I was just… waiting for the right time.”

A sharp, painful lump forms in your throat. “Cheol—”

“But you left before I could,” he cuts in, his voice breaking at the edges. His eyes are glassy now, raw with unshed emotion. “You thought…you thought I didn’t love you enough. But I did. I loved you so much I—” He sucks in a shaky breath, his hands balling into fists on the table. “I was trying so hard to build a future for us. I wanted to give you everything.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, and your hands are still on his arm, but they’re shaking. “I didn’t need ‘everything,’” you whisper. “I just needed you.”

His face crumples for a split second before he forces his expression blank again. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Silence stretches between you, thick with everything you had never said to each other. The weight of missed moments, of love given but not received in the way it was needed, settles over the two of you like a monstrous thunderstorm. 

You swallow down the sob threatening to break free from your throat. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

His voice is hoarse, like he has swallowed glass. “Would it have changed anything?”

You want to say yes. You want to believe that if he had just told you, things would have been different. But deep down, you aren’t sure. Because the truth was, you had already been slipping away from each other long before you had walked out the door. 

You had told him you were leaving him so he could focus on his work. You had told yourself you were leaving him because he didn’t love you anymore. So, would you have really believed him if he had proposed to you? You’re not sure, but there’s no point in analyzing the hypothetical what-ifs, really. 

Because now, looking at the man who had once been your world, you wonder if you had ever really left him at all.

────୨ৎ──── Three Years Ago

It was Seungcheol’s birthday. It hit you while you were at the grocery store, in the fresh produce section.

You saw cherries.

You cried.

Later that day, your finger twitched over his contact on your phone, before falling to your hips. 

He was probably busy. He hadn’t texted or called you since the breakup, after all. He definitely wouldn’t want to hear from you even if he wasn’t busy, anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” you said out loud, knowing that the person who needed to hear it most wasn’t there. “I miss you. Happy birthday.”

────୨ৎ──── 

You blink, and suddenly you’re outside. There’s a chilly wind blowing against you, making you shiver. When you try to take a step forward, you find your body is too sluggish to move much. 

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Seungcheol says concernedly, his warm, strong hands finding an all too familiar spot against your waist.

“I’m fine,” you say, though your teetering body suggests otherwise. 

Somewhere between watching Seungcheol laugh at Director Chun’s obviously not funny jokes and trying to give your hand something to do instead of ball into fists hearing his confession, you had drunk far too much of the expensive bottle of wine that the director had bought for the three of you. 

Seungcheol says your name like it’s a warning, tone firm. 

But you can’t help but laugh. You’re too close to him now. And oh, he’s so warm. Instinctively, your body presses against him, because it’s familiar and comforting and something you’ve subconsciously been craving for the past four years with every fiber of your body. 

“I missed you,” you blurt. 

Seungcheol swallows roughly. 

“Fuck, don’t…” He can’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. “How did you get here? Taxi?”

You shake your head. “Too much money. Subway.”

“I’ll take you home, okay? Where are you staying now?” He squeezes your waist. 

“Mmh.” Thinking, you close your eyes, fully leaning into his touch. 

Three days ago, the company told you to move out of the original apartment they’d placed you in two weeks ago, and although you’d memorized how to get to your new place using the subway, you had yet to memorize the exact address. You’d always looked at your phone to double check, thinking that you’d be fine if you were stranded, since you’d always have your phone on you. Unfortunately, though, you hadn’t considered that you’d be lost if your phone died. 

“That’s not an address, sweetheart.” He inhales sharply, realizing his mistake after it leaves his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown, tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t remember.”

Here you were, wasting his time again. You’d left him four years ago because you were a hindrance to his career, and now you’re doing it again. Old habits die hard, don’t they?

You sniffle, “I’ll sober up soon, don’t worry. You can just leave me here. I’ll walk to the subway.”

Seungcheol’s throat bobs. “Hey, hey, don’t be sorry. I got you, okay? I’ll take you back to my place, if that’s okay?”

You nod, your voice small. “Okay.” 

He breathes a sigh of relief. 

Before you know it, Seungcheol has escorted you into the passenger seat of his car, and you’re on your way back to the house you had called your home only four years ago. 

“Did you miss me?” you ask childishly, staring at the driver with sleepy eyes.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down. 

For a moment, you don’t think he’ll answer. But then, he says softly, “I did.”

“Oh,” you say, and then you feel your eyelids get heavier. You let them close. 

Right before you fall asleep, you catch him whispering something that sounds a lot like, “I missed you so much, sweetheart.”

────୨ৎ──── Six Months Ago

You swallowed. “In the fall?”

“Yes,” Director Chun said. “I’ll be heading over to the Seoul branch as well, for a few months at the very least. I promise you’ll be under one of our best. Department Head Choi Seungcheol is known for being collaborative. I’m sure the synergy will be great between the two of you.”

You froze. Surely, not. 

“Choi Seungcheol?” you asked breathily.

“Yes. Do you know each other?”

“No,” you said, far too quickly.

“Ah, I see. Perhaps he was impressed by the work you did with the Jeons,” the director said with a smile. “He requested you directly.”

Oh.

Oh.

────୨ৎ──── 

Sleep is supposed to be relaxing, isn’t it? So why does it feel like your chest is going to cave in on itself, like a big boulder has plopped itself down on you? 

You open your eyes quickly, only to be met with a mess of short, dark brown hair. 

You try to blow on the hair, only to feel it enter your mouth. It’s horribly dry.

“Ack,” you spit.

And then it occurs to you that your hair has never tasted like this, or looked like this, for that matter.

You try moving one of your arms to get rid of the annoying strands, only to find that it has also been rendered immobile. You tense your core, trying to flop like a worm, but it’s of no use. 

You furrow your brows, straining as hard as you can, but nothing happens. 

For a moment, you wonder if you’re having a nightmare. 

And then the boulder moves.

Your eyes widen into saucers. There’s only one explanation for this. You’ve only ever known one man who gives bear hugs in his sleep like this. 

“Choi Seungcheol?”

“Fuck,” it groans. “Thought I told you not to call me that, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, wondering if you’re still dreaming. But when you open them again, you see Seungcheol’s face. 

Sleep lines are adorning his left cheek, and he blinks at you slowly. His pink lips are turned down in a slight pout, and the sight of him is so adorable, it makes you want to scream. 

“Did you…” you pause, mind racking an explanation. “Fall asleep on top of me?”

“You said you were cold,” he says slowly, eyes half-closed, voice deep. 

“Oh,” you say, then flush, feeling heat rush up the back of your neck and reach your ears. Trying to avoid eye contact with him, your eyes stray to your collarbone, and you see that you’re still wearing last night’s clothes. “Wait, did you let me into your bed with dirty clothes?”

“Mmph,” he says, rubbing his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Wow,” is all you can manage. He never let you do that when you were dating. 

“Go back to sleep, love,” Seungcheol mumbles. 

“Can’t breathe, Cheol,” you groan, patting his back. “Too heavy, baby.”

He groans but shifts off of you, then cuddles up next to you, hands finding your waist immediately. “Five more minutes.”

“Mmh,” you sigh contentedly. 

And as you close your eyes again, it occurs to you that Seungcheol is your ex, and that the two of you are definitely doing things that exes should not be doing. 

────୨ৎ──── Two Weeks Ago

You swallowed your pride. You extended an arm out to him first. 

“Department Head Choi Seungcheol, it’s a pleasure to work with you.” 

You spat his first and last name out like venom, knowing all too well that he hated being called by his full name. 

He stared at your outstretched hand, then scoffed.

Fuck. 

────୨ৎ──── 

When you wake up again, you’re alone in Seungcheol’s bed. Out of habit, your arm moves to pat the other side of the bed. 

For a moment, your mind flashes back to the lonely mornings you had with him four years ago. The days when the first thing you did after waking up was to check the other side of the bed, only for it to be cold. The hope of it all had fractured your heart slowly, but surely.

But today, for some reason, Seungcheol’s side is lukewarm. 

Confused at the lingering warmth, you sit up in his bed, rolling back the covers. 

Is it possible that he’s still here?

Then, you smell the distinct scent of ramen through the door to his room, which has been left slightly ajar. Planning on checking the kitchen, you move to get off the bed. But before your feet reach the ground, Seungcheol walks in.

He’s holding a tiny desk, the kind made for breakfast in bed. On it is a bowl of steaming ramen and a glass of water. 

“Morning,” he says with a shy smile, and oh—oh, it’s so full of endearment and joy and hope, of all things.

God, something about it is just so, so pure and domestic, it makes your chest constrict. Seungcheol had never made you breakfast in bed when you had dated, because he had always been the first to leave in the morning. 

But here he is, like he plans on making up for everything starting now. 

And with how bright his smile is, your heart is aching to just let him. 

“Is this… for me?” you ask in a small voice. Of course, it can’t possibly be for anyone but you, but something in you wants Seungcheol to admit it. 

Seungcheol nods. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

“Ramen’s your favorite hangover meal, right?”

You nod slowly, and Seungcheol grins, like he’s proud of himself for getting it right. But something about it pokes a nerve. What use is there in remembering it now, when you’re not together anymore? 

He watches you eat slowly, and you raise your eyebrows at the taste. 

“It’s really good,” you say between bites, giving a thumbs up. 

“Good,” he says, making intense eye contact with you. 

He’s completely focused on you, phone and computer completely out of sight, and it makes you squirm. Now that his attention is on you without any distractions, it’s too easy to see how gorgeous he is. 

You flush under his attention. “Stop looking at me,” you mumble.

“Don’t wanna,” he says dreamily, lying on his stomach on the bed, looking up at you with doe eyes. 

You giggle, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Seungcheol reaches out to swat your hands away from your face, taking the opportunity to hold your hands. When you look at him again, you’re taken aback by how serious he suddenly is. 

Your laughter fades. 

He takes a deep breath, and your heart sinks. You already know what he’s going to say.

“Can we… try ag—”

“Cheol,” you gently cut him off, withdrawing your hands from his familiar grasp. “Let’s not… we’re not…” 

“Why not?” He looks at you innocently, with wide eyes. 

You take a shaky breath. “I can’t do this again, Cheol. It’s not good for me, and it’s not good for you.” 

At first, he just blinks at you, as if he misheard. But then, something in his expression hardens. “Who says you’re not good for me?”

“What?”

“Who says you’re not good for me?”

“Cheol,” you say with a sigh. “Let’s not do this again. It’s not gonna work.”

“Who says?” his voice breaks. 

────୨ৎ──── One Week Ago

“Again,” he said dryly. “Redo the business model.”

You swallowed back your anger. “Yes, Department Head Choi Seungcheol. Is there anything else you would like me to do?” 

“Care more,” he said.

You frowned. “I have my full focus on this project, sir.”

“Care more,” he repeated. 

────୨ৎ──── 

“I’ve changed,” he says frantically. “I can prove it to you, I promise.”

Your chest constricts. 

“I won’t ever let you be lonely again, I promise. I won’t let it happen, I swear. I’m so, so sorry I hurt you back then, but I’m not the same man you left. I will never hurt you again.”

You swallow roughly, the ramen leaving a salty aftertaste in your mouth. 

“Seungcheol…”

He shuts his eyes tightly, like you’ve wounded him. 

“Please, call me Cheol again. Please, I can’t stand to hear you call me that.”

“It’s your name,” you tell him gently. 

“No, it’s not. To you, I’m Cheol,” he insists stubbornly, crossing his arms. You swallow at the sight. Since when was his body so defined? You have to look away from his pronounced biceps to regain your will.

“Look at me,” he says with a frown. You obliged and he continues, “Sweetheart, please. I promise I will never hurt you again. Please, please, take me back.”

On the bed, he’s kneeling now, hands drawn together as if in deep prayer.

“I won’t let work get in the way of loving you. It was horrible and so stupid of me and I’m so, so sorry but it was only when I lost you that I realized I forgot what the point of working was. It was to provide for you, and I couldn’t do that if you were gone because I didn’t properly show you the love you deserved. I’m so, so sorry, my love. Please give me another chance?”

Seungcheol looks at you with so much sadness, but the history you had with his ghost makes you unsure about what to do. 

“I don’t know, Cheol…”

He smiles weakly, resigned. “At least you’re back to calling me Cheol, though. Right?”

You nod slowly. 

All of a sudden, Seungcheol lights up, like a last-minute godsend of an idea came to his mind. “If it’s too hard to say yes now, how about taking it slow?”

“What does that mean?” His definition of taking it slow probably isn’t like yours. 

“I can take you out on some dates, and then you could decide?” 

Your heart sinks. He’s so hopeful—eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth parted. 

You don’t know if you have it in you to say no.

You press your lips together. 

Seungcheol must have sensed danger in your face, because he immediately interjects with a rushed confession before you even open your mouth.

“I love you. So much. I loved you then, and I loved you after you left, and I love you now. There was no one after you, you know?” He looks a bit crazed, hands scrunching the blankets roughly. 

Your heart jolts. 

He continues, “You were everything to me—and still are. There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t think about you. But I couldn’t bring myself to reach out because I thought you hated me.”

He’s not exactly wrong. You did hate him. Then again, there’s a fine line between love and hate. Both are powerful emotions that require you to care about the person in question. 

“I even quit the startup because I realized it had eaten up all my time, ‘cause it had taken you away from me.”

You gasp. This was the answer to why Choi Seungcheol, self-made entrepreneur who insisted on refusing to work for anyone but himself, had strangely become the department head of a company that he never had a hand in creating. 

“I was,” he sighs self-deprecatingly, “unemployed for a while. Until I heard you were working here, and then I made it my mission to climb the ranks until I could ask for you to get transferred to Seoul. And when you accepted, I was so…”

Your heart breaks a little for him.

“I thought it was a sign.” Hesitantly, he clarifies, “That you might want to try again.”

You inhale sharply. There he goes, again. Talking so sweetly. Back then, that was all he ever did to show you that he loved you. It wasn’t enough then, so why would it be enough now? 

At your silence, Seungcheol hangs his head, and your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to him.

Except it’s different now, isn’t it? He’s finally doing all the things you once wished he would. Isn’t that what you wanted from him? You don’t trust him yet. But he’s trying, now, and every muscle in your body aches with an impossibly deep desire to pull him into your arms. 

You exhale, and out with your breath goes your final worries.

Your lips part before you’ve fully decided what to say. 

"Okay."

It’s barely a whisper, but it might as well be a strike of thunder with the way Seungcheol’s head snaps up. His eyes widen, mouth parting like he’s afraid he misheard you.

"Okay?" His voice trembles, cautious, like one wrong move could shatter whatever fragile thing is forming between you.

Your throat tightens. The weight of this—of him—presses down on you, but you nod anyway.

For a second, he doesn’t breathe. Then, his face crumples, and the sheer relief in his expression makes something in you splinter. His hands twitch where they rest on the blankets, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t dare. He’s waiting—because this time, he knows he has to let you come to him.

And you do.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lean forward. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t move away. Your forehead brushes his, a soft press that feels like a heartbeat between you. You feel the warmth of his skin, the way his breath mingles with yours in the inches of space that remain.

Seungcheol exhales shakily, like he’s been holding it in for years. His hands hover near your waist, unsure, unsteady. He doesn’t pull you closer—he’s learned now—but he craves it.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his touch, telling yourself it’d only be for a second. Just long enough to let yourself feel him, really feel him, without the weight of the past crushing you.

His voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning across your lips. “Sweetheart…”

You could fall apart at the way he says it, so quiet, so reverent—like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he speaks too loud.

Your heart aches for more, but your mind reminds you of how he had left scars in your heart. For now, this form of affection would have to be enough. 

After a few minutes in his arms, you reluctantly pull away to check the address of your new apartment on your finally-charged phone. Seungcheol drops you off, walking you to your door. You don’t invite him in, and he doesn’t ask. But something about the way he looked at you, right before you walked inside your apartment, lingers in your mind long after he leaves. He’d looked at you like you’d hung every glittering star in the sky. 

Four years ago, you had decided that this gaze was something he’d manufactured while putting up with you. Maybe, you were wrong.

────୨ৎ──── 

Seungcheol keeps his promise of taking things slow. He’d arranged for you to meet him at a cafe the next day, and he’s already there when you get there. It’s a small, cozy place tucked into a quieter part of the city, the kind with warm lighting and the scent of freshly ground coffee drifting in the air. 

You hesitate for a second when you see him through the window, seated at a booth near the back, fingers idly tapping against the ceramic cup in front of him. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you push open the door.

His eyes meet yours instantly, and for a moment, he looks breathless—like he’s just as nervous as you are. But then he smiles. It’s a small, careful thing, but it makes your heart drum a little faster anyway. As you approach, he stands up, hand on his heart.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away.

“Hey,” you reply, sliding into the seat across from him. 

The booth is familiar. For a second, you’re struck by the memory of late-night conversations, of stolen kisses over half-finished drinks. You really were deep in love, back then.

You shake the thought away as Seungcheol gestures toward the counter.

“Still the same order?” he asks, the corner of his mouth lifting in something that isn’t quite a smirk but close enough that you recognize it as one of his signature expressions. You raise an eyebrow.

“You think I’d change it?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, tilting his head slightly. “A lot of time has passed.”

You exhale a small laugh. “Yeah, well. Some things stay the same.”

Something shifts in his gaze, a flicker of relief, of hope, before he nods. He waves down a barista and places the order without hesitation—exactly how you like it. When the cup is finally set in front of you, you find yourself staring at it for a beat too long, a strange warmth pooling in your chest.

“Thanks,” you murmur, wrapping your fingers around the cup.

Seungcheol watches you, his own drink forgotten, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he leans slightly forward, forearms resting on the table as he asks, “So, what’s new?”

You take a sip, letting the warmth settle in your stomach before answering. “Well, I have a wedding to go to next month.”

His eyebrows lift slightly, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Yeah. My coworker from the New York branch, Lee Chan, is getting married next month. I gotta fly out for it.” You swirl your drink absentmindedly, watching the steam curl into the air. “It’s kind of crazy. Feels like yesterday he was complaining about bad Tinder dates, and now he’s getting married.”

Seungcheol huffs a small laugh. “Guess he finally found the right person.”

“Yeah,” you say, a little softer. “Guess he did.”

There’s a pause, and you realize that for all the implications, for the way the topic is naturally leading to the idea of a plus one, you don’t bring it up. And, notably, neither does he. The question lingers, unspoken but present. Instead, Seungcheol shifts the conversation.

“You still baking?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “If you can even call it that.”

He grins. “That bad?”

“Worse.” You sigh dramatically. “I was trying to perfect my chocolate chip cookies, right? Like, I found this recipe online, and it looked completely foolproof. But somehow, I nearly burned down my apartment.”

His amusement vanishes instantly. “What?”

“I mean, not literally,” you backtrack quickly, waving a hand. “But there was a lot of smoke. And my oven might hate me now.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrow in concern. “That apartment’s new, isn’t it?”

You nod. “Yeah, company orders. Still trying to get used to it.”

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head as he studies you. “Isn’t it hard? Being in such an unfamiliar place?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh, uh, I guess?”

His tone is casual—too casual—but you’re not oblivious. You see the way he watches you intently, the way he’s gauging your reaction. He thinks he’s being subtle, but it’s clear what he’s hinting at. Someday, maybe you won’t have to be in an unfamiliar place. Maybe you could come back home, to me.

You let out a small breath, looking down at your drink. “It’s fine,” you say after a moment. “It’s just an adjustment.”

Seungcheol doesn’t push, but his fingers tighten slightly around his cup. “If you ever need anything…”

“I know,” you say, and you mean it. Because for the first time in a long time, it feels like he actually means it, too.

The conversation shifts again, moving from baking disasters to random anecdotes about work, about old stories that slip out without either of you realizing. And throughout it all, you notice something: Seungcheol is listening.

Not just nodding along, not just waiting for his turn to speak. He’s really listening—leaning in, responding at the right moments, his gaze locked on yours with a kind of attentiveness that makes your stomach flip in a way you don’t want to acknowledge yet.

It’s different. He’s different.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why this doesn’t feel like a mistake.

Fuck, do you love him, still?

────୨ৎ──── 

After the weekend cafe date with Seungcheol came the work week, much to your displeasure. Today has been an especially exhausting day. The kind that seeps into your bones, weighing down your limbs, making even the simple act of unlocking your apartment door feel like a chore. You barely manage to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, groaning into the cushions.

You didn’t even hear your phone buzzing at first. It takes a few rings before you muster enough energy to blindly fumble for it.

“Hello?” Your voice is muffled, with your face buried against the pillow.

“You sound dead,” comes Seungcheol’s voice, laced with amusement but tinged with concern.

“Feel like it too,” you groan. “Long day.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then, softly, “Have you eaten?”

“I had lunch,” you say. 

Another pause. Then, decisively, “I’m coming over.”

“What? No, you don’t have to—”

“Too late. I’m already on my way.”

And just like that, the call ends. You blink owlishly at your screen, a bit too drained to call him back in protest.

Twenty minutes later, a knock comes from your door.

When you open it, Seungcheol stands there, hair still slightly tousled from the wind outside, carrying a takeout bag in one hand and a six-pack of your favorite drinks in the other.

“You used to drink these when you were stressed,” he says, holding up the pack as if that explains everything.

Your heart does something funny in your chest, but do your best to ignore it. Instead, you step aside, letting him in for the first time. 

Seungcheol makes himself comfortable in your kitchen, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He unpacks the food and searches for utensils without asking you for help. And before you know it, you’re sitting at your small dining table, warm food in front of you, while he nudges a drink toward your hand.

The silence is comfortable. You didn’t realize how much you needed this until now—until the tension in your shoulders starts to ease, until the simple act of eating next to someone who cares about you makes the world feel a little less heavy.

At some point, you sigh, rolling your neck to work out a kink. You hadn’t meant for it to be noticeable, but Seungcheol caught it immediately. Without a word, he shifts his chair closer and places a warm hand against your shoulder, thumb pressing gently into the tension there.

You freeze.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “I got you. Just relax.”

And somehow, without even thinking, you do.

It isn’t grand, or dramatic, really. It’s just the quiet comfort of someone who knows you better than you thought he did. Who is all of a sudden remembering the little things, after all these years. He eases the weight of the world off your shoulders without even trying.

You don’t pull away.

And neither does he.

────୨ৎ──── 

A week later, and the workday is winding down. But the plans you’ve been looking forward to—a nice dinner that feels like a step forward, another stitch in the frayed edges between you and Seungcheol—suddenly teeter on the edge of collapse.

You’re gathering your things when Director Chun steps into the office, looking around before his gaze lands on Seungcheol.

"Department Head Choi Seungcheol," Chun calls, his voice even but firm. "I need you to stay back for a bit. The New York office just called me about a misalignment between Mr. Han’s vision and the work we submitted to their team. We need to smooth it over before tomorrow morning. I estimate it won’t take very long."

Your breath catches. Director Chun always sugarcoats things. It wouldn’t be just a couple more minutes, it’d be several hours of extra work. 

It’s just a few words, a simple request by the director. But it’s enough to send you spiraling.

Because you've been here before.

You know how this story ends.

Your grip tightens around the strap of your bag as a million thoughts flood in, rapid and overwhelming. He’s going to say yes. Of course, he’s going to say yes. 

Work will always come first. It always has, always will. 

He’ll put you second again, and you’ll be left waiting, just like before.

The words you want to say—please don’t go, pick me, just this once—stick like molasses to the back of your throat.

You can’t stay here to hear him confirm it. You can’t bear to watch it happen all over again.

You walk away before Seungcheol answers the director, your feet carrying you toward the stairwell in a daze. The second the heavy door shuts behind you, a shaky breath escapes your lips. Your fingers press against your temples as you squeeze your eyes shut, willing away the sting that threatens to turn into tears. 

Your chest constricts so harshly, you think you might be having a heart attack.

It shouldn't hurt this much.

But it does.

The past and present blur together in your mind—memories of cold dinners, of unanswered texts, of waiting and waiting and waiting. Until you stopped waiting altogether.

Why on earth did you think that things would be any different, now? 

The door swings open with a rush of air.

"Sweetheart?"

Your stomach drops.

Seungcheol steps inside, eyes scanning the dimly lit stairwell before landing on you. His brows pull together in concern as he closes the distance between you.

"Hey," he murmurs, reaching out hesitantly. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head, stepping back before his fingers can brush against your arm. "You don’t have to be here, Cheol."

He frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Defeated, you let out a humorless laugh, gesturing vaguely. "You don’t have to chase after me just to make me feel better about you choosing work over dinner. I get it. I know how this goes."

A pause. Then, softly, "Is that what you think happened?"

The sincerity in his voice makes you falter.

You blink at him, your heart pounding, confusion creeping in through the cracks of your resolve. "What do you mean?"

Seungcheol exhales, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. This time, you don’t move away.

"I told Director Chun I couldn’t stay," he says, voice steady. "I told him I had a prior commitment, and that I wasn’t going to break it."

Your eyes widen comically. "What?"

His lips twitch into something that’s not quite a smile, but close. "I said no, sweetheart. I told him I had somewhere more important to be."

More important.

Your throat tightens.

"You—" The words catch, and you swallow hard, trying to process it. "You said no?"

"I did." His gaze softens, the weight of the moment settling between you. "I told you I wouldn’t let work come between us again."

His voice is quiet, but it carries years’ worth of unspoken apologies.

Of love that had once been misplaced, misdirected, but never truly lost.

Your eyes flicker over his face, searching. And the truth is written in the way he looks at you—open, unwavering, as if he’s willing you to believe him.

And you do.

It’s terrifying how easily you do.

The wall you’d built, the one meant to protect you from this very moment, begins to crumble under the warmth in his gaze.

Your breath shudders. "Cheol…"

His hand lifts, hovering near your cheek, close enough that you can feel the heat of it but not touching. His wide, sparkling eyes look eagerly into yours—giving you the choice, letting you decide.

Your chest tightens at his cute patience, the silent question lingering between you.

The space between you grows smaller.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re impossibly close, the tips of your noses nearly brushing. His breath fans over your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.

He doesn’t move to kiss you, but that’s okay. Because you’re finally ready to cross that line. 

Tilting your chin up into him, your lips meet, and the warmth of him grounds you in a way that nothing else ever replaced, or ever could. His lips are so, so, soft, and as he melts into the kiss, he lets out a small content sigh. Everything about the kiss is familiar, and yet, somehow different. It’s charged with a kind of electric buzz, the tension from the past weeks finally coming to a head. 

For a moment, the world is still. You only see Seungcheol. 

Then, in a voice so soft it almost disappears into the quiet of the stairwell, Seungcheol parts from your lips for just a centimeter, whispering, "I meant what I said. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m 110% for you, I love you."

You close your eyes, exhaling against his skin, relishing his touch. You say the next words with a full chest, “I love you so much, Cheol.”

Because for the first time in a long time, you believe him. 

Masterlist

Author's Note: did u get the title?? seungcheol's the python bc he makes ur chest constrict and love is hard and hurts us sometimes anywayz happy valentines day <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy - @thepoopdokyeomtouched - @dmstoyangyang - @christinewithluv - @snowcake666 - @rjreins - @namk00kie - @homelouisgirl - @slvrstrs - @jimintopiaaaa - @coupshour - @babycaratdeul

[theemporium]

lukey getting his girlfriend a promise ring but most definitely forgets to tell his brothers so when she pulls up to the lake house with a ring on her ring finger they’re jumping to conclusions?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Did you know?” 

Quinn blinked, frowning at the way Jack pushed into his room and quickly shut the door behind him before spinning back around to glare at him. He was almost tempted to tease him over his odd behaviour before he noticed the genuine hurt and panic in his brother’s gaze.

“Know what?” Quinn asked. 

“That Luke is fucking engaged,” Jack hissed out, muscles in his jaw twitching at the pressure of his teeth gritting together. “Why the fuck did he not say anything? Why the fuck did you not say anything? I literally live with him, how the hell did he not tell me anything?” 

Quinn blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Luke is not engaged.” 

“My mistake, the huge fucking ring on his girlfriend’s left ring finger gave me the wrong impression,” Jack snapped back, pissed off and upset and feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of his younger brother—his baby brother—being engaged when he barely knows how to work a damn washing machine.

Quinn choked out a surprised noise. “The what?”

“The fucker got engaged and didn’t even tell us,” Jack hissed, beginning to pace around the room. “Oh god, Mom is gonna kill him. Mom is gonna kill us.”

Quinn frowned. “Why did he not tell us he was even thinking about proposing?” 

Jack huffed. “When the fuck did he even get engaged?” 

Quinn shot his brother a blank look. “They just came back from a weekend away. Take a fucking guess.” 

Jack’s nose scrunched up. “In Ohio. Who the fuck gets engaged in Ohio?”

Quinn let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he quickly stood up from his spot on the bed. “We need to talk to him.”

“What the fuck do we say?” Jack questioned, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "Congratulations?"

“What else can we say?” Quinn retorted, shaking his head. “That we love and support him but what the fuck is he thinking getting engaged and not telling anybody?” 

Jack shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Jack, you can’t say shit like that.”

“Can’t say shit like what?” 

Both boys snapped their heads around to find Luke standing in the doorway, a stick of beef jerky in his hand that he was currently munching on as he looked between the two of them with an odd expression. 

“What? What did I miss?” Luke frowned. 

Despite the initial hurt and anger he felt minutes ago, Jack couldn’t stop himself from darting forward and dragging his little brother into a hug. “You’re a dick for not saying anything to us but I am happy for you, even if I think you’re a little young. We love and support you no matter what, bud.”

Luke’s arms awkwardly hung by his side before he slowly patted Jack’s back. “Thanks?” 

Quinn looked a little more pensive, a softer expression on his face. “You could have told us, you know? We would have helped you pick out a ring or whatever else you needed.” 

“Oh,” Luke’s eyes widened a little before he shrugged. “It was no biggie, Bratter knew a few good places around Jersey so I was able to get it before we left after playoffs. I didn’t think either of you would really care.” 

Jack quickly stepped back, the anger suddenly back and rearing. “Woah, hold the fuck up, Bratter knew you were getting engaged before me? Your brother? What the fuck?” 

“Engaged?” Luke repeated with a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re engaged!” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I saw the ring!”

Luke blinked before snorting. “It’s a promise ring, dumbass.”

Quinn sighed.

“Oh,” was all Jack managed to get out. 

“I mean, I love her but like,” Luke shrugged, suddenly looking young and sheepish. “That is a big step, you know? But I’m serious about her. I wanted her to know that too.” 

“Right,” Quinn sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temples before smiling a little. “We are happy for you. Both of you. She’s good for you.”

Luke smiled a little.

Jack nodded. “And that is one hell of a promise ring, bud.”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as he already began to turn to leave the room.

But Jack continued. “I mean, not that it would hurt your bank account since I buy you everything—”

“That’s what big brothers are for!”

.

[katsu28]

love you always

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando plans a series of surprises for you on valentine's day. (2.4k)

a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!! here's something sweet <3 believe it or not it's 3AM and i wrote this all in one go so if you see any errors no you don't ;)

The surprises start first thing in the morning. 

Lando is up and out of the house for training long before you even stir, but made sure you woke up to something nice. When you shuffle out to the kitchen in much need of coffee to get your day going, you’re pleasantly surprised by a full pot of the good coffee made with beans you’ve always saved for special occasions, and pastries from your favorite bakery. 

A little note beside the box of mouthwatering baked goods reads a message from your boyfriend. 

happy valentine’s day, my love. sorry i couldn’t be there when you woke up, but i hope these make you smile. be on the lookout for more surprises today <3 love you always - LN 

The second surprise is waiting for you when you make your way to work. You’ve barely just walked into the office when you’re approached by Cass, one of your closest work friends. 

“Girl, you are one lucky bitch. I’d die if my man got me something like that,” She gushes, eyes gleaming. You squint at her in confusion.

“Sorry, what?” You say, unsure. She just smiles knowingly, tilting her head towards your cubicle. It isn’t until you lay eyes on your desk that you see what she’s talking about. 

A giant bouquet of red roses with baby’s breath scattered amongst the bunch sits on your chair, wrapped in colorful paper and tied together with a string. Nestled in it is another note from Lando, this one with the message embossed on crisp cardstock—

told you i’d have more surprises :) if i know you (and i’m pretty sure i do), you’re too caught up with the roses to notice the other thing, so look on your desk. maybe wear it tonight? love you always - LN

Lando is right, you hadn’t noticed the small box sitting right in the middle of your desk, seemingly nothing until you open it carefully.

A necklace sparkles out at you—a pendant of your birthstone, hanging on a delicate chain. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and another beautiful necklace to add to the ever growing collection of jewelry Lando’s gifted you in your time together. 

Wear it tonight. 

There was no doubt that Lando had planned a date for tonight, but you’d been unsuccessful in weaseling any details out of him these past few days leading up to today. 

“Can you just tell me what you’ve got planned?” You whine, pouting over at Lando where he’s putting away his shirts in the wardrobe. “Like, what restaurant are we going to?”

“Um, no.” He shoots you a look that screams judgement, but you know it’s all in good nature. “That would completely ruin the surprise.” 

“But I need to figure out what I’m going to wear,” You reason, sitting up quickly. Lando pins you to the spot with another disapproving look that you ignore, digging in your metaphorical heels. “What if I show up looking like an absolute slob because you didn’t tell me it was somewhere fancy? That would be your fault, not mine.” 

Lando finishes his task, coming over to the bed where you’re sat cross-legged, and props himself up on his elbows right in front of you. “First of all, you never look like a slob. Even when you’re on the last day of your hair wash cycle and you’ve just come back from a run, you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

“That’s disgusting, but…oddly sweet of you.” 

“Second of all,” He says pointedly, poking you in the leg for interrupting him, “If I tell you where I’ve made reservations, you’ll spend all day thinking about it and you’ll freak yourself out like you tend to do. So no, I’m not telling you what I’ve got planned.” 

Well, no one can ever say Lando doesn’t know you. He knows you too well, really. Knows your tendencies, exactly what’ll be running through your mind.  

“I hate how perfect you are,” You sniff, wrinkling your nose at him. 

“Yeah, I love you too, baby.” 

You know Lando is probably busy with training so you don’t call him, but you do shoot him a thank you text, to which he returns with a whole slew of love related emojis. 

You’re not usually one to enjoy being showered with gifts, but the fact that he’s planned all these surprises to make sure you know he’s thinking of you has butterflies fluttering in your chest. 

Lando never ceases to make you feel so loved, all the time, even when he’s not physically there with you. 

You’re hard at work when your Cass calls your name around noon, drawing you out of your focus. 

“Hey, there’s a food delivery person asking for you at the front desk.” 

“Are you sure? I didn’t order anything,” You reply, brows creased in curiosity. 

You hadn’t ordered anything, but thinking about food makes you realize you’d completely forgotten to pack your lunch before you’d left the house this morning. Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing it in the fridge on the shelf where it usually is. 

She shrugs. “They’re asking for you.”

You thank Cass quickly, making your way to the lobby to meet the delivery person. 

“Hi!” You say politely. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I didn’t order anything. Maybe you’ve got the wrong address?”

One look at the restaurant name on the bag almost has you taking back your words, because it’s from your favorite little cafe in the city, and if you take a deep enough breath, you can almost smell the mouthwatering aroma wafting from the paper bag. 

The poor delivery driver looks as puzzled as you feel. She blinks, looking at something on her phone before tilting her head. “Uh, I don’t think so? The system said the order was placed by a Bob N? Do you know a Bob that would order takeaway to this address?” 

You have to fight the urge to laugh. Of course it was Lando who’d ordered takeaway. Another Valentine’s Day surprise for you, it seems. 

“Wow, I’m so sorry for the confusion. My boyfriend, he must’ve had it sent here without letting me know,” You explain, feeling your cheeks blaze warm. “Yes, it’s for me.” 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute! Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She gushes, passing over the bag.

“Yeah, he is,” You chuckle. “Thank you so much, have a great day! Sorry again for the mix up.” 

“You too, happy Valentine’s Day!” 

Upon opening the bag when you get back to your desk, you see something tucked in beside the takeaway container. Yet another note, not printed nor in his handwriting, so he’d probably made a special request for the restaurant to write it. 

hope you’re hungry! enjoy your lunch, baby. day’s halfway over, see you soon <3 love you always - Bob

This time, you do call Lando as you munch on your food. 

“Hi, baby!” You chirp happily. 

“Hey, you,” He greets back, sounding glad to hear your voice. He always does whenever you give him a ring. “What’s up?” 

“How’d you know I’d forgotten my lunch?” 

“What? You did? No way!” Lando sounds a little too smug to be innocent, and it isn’t hard to connect the dots now. 

You chuckle, a little disbelieved. “Did you seriously hide my lunch just so you could have takeaway delivered to my office?” 

“I did no such thing. Did I accidentally toss it out whilst I was taking out the rubbish last night? Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we?” 

“Sure we won’t. Thank you, by the way. I’ve been craving this all week.” 

“I know. Heard you muttering about it in your sleep the other night. Fuckin’ weirdo.” You can almost imagine him grinning that big toothy smile of his that you love, shaking his head at you. “Anyways, good news. I managed to convince Jon to let me off early today, so I can pick you up from work.” 

“Really? How’d you swing that?” 

“Might’ve let it slip I’ve got something special planned for us tonight and he caved. That man is such a sucker for love, it’s crazy.” 

“So you’ll tell your trainer what we’re doing tonight, but you won’t tell me? That’s messed up, Norris,” You say teasingly. He laughs. 

“Well, he’s not the one I’m trying to surprise, you muppet. You’ll find out soon enough, don’t you worry,” Lando tuts. You hear someone say something on his end of the line that Lando gives a muffled reply to, but he’s back before you know it. “M’sorry, I gotta get back to it. I’ll see you at five?” 

“I’ll be waiting. Tell Jon I say hi and thanks for giving you some freedom today. Love you always!” 

“Love you always.” 

-------

The rest of the workday goes by without any more Lando surprises, but you’re still nearly buzzing with energy because of the fact you get to see him earlier than you’d expected. After a long day of work, your wonderful boyfriend is just what you need. 

You see him through the doors before he sees you. He’s leaning against the side of his sleek Porsche, cap backwards on his head as he squints through the waning sunlight in search of you and looking unfairly handsome while doing so. You even pause to snap a sneaky photo of him because he just looks so good. 

When you finally exit the building, Lando beams, holding a hand up in greeting. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiles, leaning in for a kiss as soon as you get within arms’ length of him. “Missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Lan.” You mean it. Even though you’ve only been apart for a workday, he’s been on your mind throughout it. You don’t know how you survive race weeks without being with him all the time. 

“Ready to go home?” 

“Never been more ready. Maybe I’ll worm some information about tonight out of you on the way.” 

“Sneaky girl. Right, I’ll tell you this, it’s a nice restaurant. Somewhere we’ve been before.” 

“But not my favorite restaurant, because you already got me food from there today.” 

“Observant, aren’t you? No, not that one.” He opens the passenger side door for you to get in and you do, wracking your brain for any idea of where Lando would be taking you in a few hours. “Alright, don’t think too hard about it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself now.” 

“Rude.” 

“Look, is it alright for me to lightly suggest what I think you could wear?” He asks, pulling out of the car park and onto the road. You shoot him a look that tells him to be careful, but still nod slowly. “That dress that I like. The swishy one with the thin straps that make your boobs look—” 

“Lando.” 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little carried away,” He says sheepishly. “But yeah, that one would be perfect.” 

“That’s a nice one,” You hum, tilting your head in thought. “You’ve got good taste after all.” 

“Um, yeah, I know. I bought it.” 

-------

You’ve got on the dress that Lando suggested, but there’s one thing you always forget about this specific one. The zipper on the back is near impossible for you to get all the way up on your own. No matter how hard you try, you’ve always had to get Lando to help you that last bit. 

“Lan, could you c’mere a second?” You call down the corridor. Footsteps echo right away, and then he’s in the doorway, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt with intense focus. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Could you zip me?” 

“Could I—oh, fuck.” 

You make eye contact in the mirror in front of you and Lando freezes right where he is, mouth ajar, blinking at you like he can’t believe you’re real and in front of him. 

“Help?” You urge, fighting an amused smile at how absolutely floored he looks. 

He gives his head a shake, rushing over to help you. Shaky fingers slide the delicate zipper up until it’s good. “Sorry, I just—every time you wear that dress I think I forget how to breathe a little bit.” 

“I’m flattered.” 

“You should be. Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” His gaze flits to your necklace, the new one you’d gotten today, and his mouth curves into a smile. “That’s a nice one. Wonder who got it for you?” 

“My boyfriend, actually. Dunno if you know him, but he’s kinda the best. Massive forehead though.” 

“Oh, you’re funny,” He huffs, nose wrinkling in overdramatic offense that makes you giggle. “Kiss?” 

“You’d have my lipstick all over your mouth.” 

“Does it look like I care? I wanna kiss you.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you let him kiss you. While you’re expecting a short kiss, Lando takes it a step further, two hands sliding behind you to dip you backwards a little bit to deepen it. To say you’re taken by surprise is a slight understatement, but you go with what he’s doing. 

You kiss him until you’re breathless, pulling back with a hand splayed over his chest. 

Lando grins goofily with lipstick smudges all over his mouth. “Totally worth it,” He says, looking absolutely giddy.

Once you’ve reapplied what had rubbed off on Lando, you’re off through the city in Lando’s favorite car. The more familiar your surroundings get, the more you realize where he’s taking you, and your suspicions are concerned when he pulls up to the valet. 

The restaurant where you’d had your first date. 

Lando always tells you how he’d known he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with you on that first date, even before your entrees came. You always tell him you’d known it then too. 

“Did I do good?” He asks hopefully, holding out his elbow for you to loop your arm through as soon as he’s helped you out of the car.

“You did perfect, Lan. I might cry, actually.” 

“No, don’t do that! You’ll mess up your mascara and then you’ll look like a raccoon for the rest of the night.” 

You scoff lightly, successfully blinking back tears. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

“We would not. Though I’d still think you were the cutest raccoon out of all the raccoons.” 

“You’re so dumb. I love you.” 

“Love you, babe. Always.” 

A nice dinner at a restaurant dear to your heart with the love of your life. It’s all you could’ve asked for, and Lando has gone beyond that to show you how much he loves you. 

On a Valentine’s Day full of wonderful surprises, this is the best one of all.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[hotwife-larissa-returns]

That was so fucking naughty… hubby and I were in the States for vacation and we ran into an old friend of mine. As I hugged him, he whispered some compliments in my ear… hubby didn’t hear it and I tried to hide my smile.

Nevertheless, we were in a hurry, so I just got his phone number and I called him to arrange to meet and have dinner the next day. But I couldn’t get him out of my head, I remembered how he made love to me. I got wet… and horny… for him.

So I stealed away from my hubby, telling him I forgot to get something, that I needed right now. You know, honest conversations are important in our relationship and I wasn’t lying. Of course, I left out some details, but that didn’t matter right now. I had a burning desire, I called my friend and drove to his hotel.

As I knocked on his door, he opened it, he was wearing a towel… he knew, why I was here and had just showered to be fresh and ready for me. I stripped out of my clothes in no time and the towel dropped on the floor, giving me a close view of why I had missed him so badly. He‘s really hung, easy twice the size of my hubbies dick and he also knows how to use this thing.

He didn’t need to seduce me, we skipped foreplay and started to fuck like wild animals… for two hours. We‘d completely lost track of time and we had that reservation at the restaurant in half an hour. We’re already late… so I called hubby that we‘ll meet there, telling him I got stuck in traffic.

There wasn’t any time left to shower or freshen myself up. We just dressed up and hurried to my car. Hubby already waited for us as we arrived, hand in hand… and that glow in my face together with my messy hair already told him the story. I hugged and kissed my cuckold, whispering to him, how much I love him.

He knew exactly, what I had done. And it got him excited. Still hugging him, I told him, hat he could taste him, if he‘ll let his finger run up my inner thighs. He did as unsuspicious as possible and pick up some drops, licking them up. „Tell him he‘s delicious.“ Gosh, my hubby is so great, he really did tell my old friend, how good his cum tasted.

We went inside and enjoyed dinner. I sat next to my friend, while hubby sat across the table. He clearly could noticed, that my friends hand were doing something under the table… he fingered me gently, while I had slipped out of one of my shoes and rubbed my hubbies bulge through his pants.

We told our story of how I had met my friend, that we had an affair years ago and that he’s always a great companion in bed… adding an „even today“ to add a little spice for my hubby. My friend smirked at my hubby, I had already told him about our lifestyle and he couldn’t have been happier with that. Turns out, that he got divorced a while ago and haven’t found a new woman yet.

We had finished the main course and I said to hubby, „We weren’t finished before we got here and I think we‘ll take dessert somewhere else.“ We let hubby pay the bill and I took my car to give my friend a lift. Hubby couldn’t follow us fast enough and he called me. As I were in my friends hotel room again, I just texted my cuckold „have a good night, sweetie, I‘m safe and sound in his room taking care of my friend, see you tomorrow.“

He fucked me all night long till dawn… giving me multiple shaking orgasms that night, fucking my brains out and screwing me like he hadn’t had a woman in months… I could barely move the next day and just managed to drive home to my hubby, who eagerly waited for my return and couldn’t stop himself from caring for my manhandled and sore pussy.

👩🏻🤗😘����🥰🔥💍😈💕💦🍆🤷🏻‍♀️

[k1mbe3rly]

Can you post links.. to Nam-gyu or Sang-woo please.. or to Gi-hun prior to the squidgames. Or can you write Nam-gyu walking in on reader watching porn? Pleasee

Nam gyu walking in on you watching porn

warning; smut, degrading, roommates

You didn’t notice him at first as you were fingering yourself slowly and holding your phone in one hand, your bit your bottom lip a bit as all you could really hear were the moans from the phone and the sound of your hard breathing

Nam gyu enjoys the sight of this, he just smirks and watches for a bit before clearing his throat making you jump and drop your phone as you stared at him in this awkward position before quickly shutting your legs and, cover yourself up with a blanket as you finally sit up, “Umm what the fuck?? do you just not knock no more?!” you told him as he crosses his arms, “I was knocking for like 5 seconds. I guess you couldn’t hear me over those fake ass moans coming from that video.” he said

You were embarrassed as you flushed a bit, “Okay whatever just get the fuck out weirdo.” you spoke back, “Whattt, whyyy i was enjoying this pretty little sight of you” he said smirking, you frowned a bit as he spoke again, “Need some help?” he asked as he walked closer to your bed picking up your phone and closing out the tab than setting it on the nightstand, “Help? what i need is for you to get out!” you spoke again

“Come on don’t be like that” he told you as you pulled down your blankets, you didn’t bother trying to stop him because in reality you were thinking about him while watching those porn videos, the blankets were finally off as your legs were shut, “Open” he commanded as you huffed trying to act like you hated this, you slowly spread your legs as you felt his hands spread them wider, his fingers went to your pussy and rubbed on your folds

You let out a soft moan as he continues rubbing your pussy, his hands going to your clit and rubs on you as he bites his lip watching your reaction, he rubs your pussy and clit for about a minute, he pulls his hand away, “I could do so much better than that guy in the video..want me to prove it?” he spoke to you low and a bit raspy, you nodded at him as he smirks, he pulls down his pants along with his boxers, his cock was already hard as it hits right at his belly button

He crawled ontop of you and settles between your legs spreading your legs a bit wider, “Look at this wet fucking pussy. Hearing you and watching you finger yourself made me so fucking horny baby..” he said as he rubs his tip on your pussy, you arched your back a bit staring up at him, he finally pushes in his tip as you already moaned out a bit feeling your pussy get stretched a bit just by his tip, he groans a bit as he pushed in his whole cock into you with one motion

You whimpered and gasped as he chuckled, he gives you a moment to adjust and once you did everything around you disappeared.

he pounded into you harshly, he grips on your hips keeping you down as he growls and grunts feeling your tight walls clamp on his cock, each thrust slightly faster than the last, he watches your fucked out face, moaning and eyes already slightly teared up, he lifted your legs and threw them over his shoulders, he held onto your ankles as he angled himself deeper, you screamed out in pleasure as the bed creaks a bit

His hard length pounding into that sweet spot making your back arch, your moans got intensely louder, he throws his head back “Fuckk!! baby take this fucking dick..just like that.” he grunted out, your feet dangling over his shoulders as you moaned his name multiple times

Loud moans and skin slapping filled the room along with his grunts and growls

He leans over kissing your cheek multiple times and sucking on your neck as his hips kept slamming into you, he grips on the sheets next to your head as he bit his lip harshly, his hips never stopping as his cock twitched inside you, the knot in your stomach formed as you even felt your orgasm on the edge of leaking out

“N-nam gyu! i’m gonna cum!” you managed to form out as he grips on the sheets tighter, his teeth sinking deeper into his bottom lip, he somehow managed to go even harsher as you moaned even louder than you already were

It didn’t take long for him to cum as well as you also did, he accidentally let out a moan into your ear, he was too caught up in his high to realize what sound he made as he panted, you let out soft moans, both of your bodies covered in sweat, “Shit..are you alright? did i go too far huh?” he asked you his voice softening, you shaked your head “No..not at all that was perfect.” you told him panting as he formed a small smile and even cleaned both of you.

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Arguments Between Twins as Told by Stanford and Stanley Pines:

if the few minute difference between their birth times matter (it does)

If not age, how to decide who gets to shower first (rock paper scissors triangle? Stanley, I am not incorporating a triangle into this children's game. I think you are exploiting my trauma)

Who has the worst ex, as sparked by the previous argument (Who, Stanley, could possibly compare to an interdimensional world-ending demon? You know what, I don't want to know)

Who's more of a criminal (MULTIVERSAL CRIMINAL, Stanley, it's in the name. I mean, what have you done that could have compar--- oh. That's not... that's not the kind of crime I'd thought you'd say. You really shouldn't joke about that)

How many jokes about trauma are too many (I'm not trying to overregulate your healing, Stanley, I'm just saying that humor as a coping mechanism can only go so far until it becomes detrimental to---)

How Ford has managed to remain such an egotistical ass (that's not fair, Stanley. Nearly as unfair as you pushing me into a portal)

Is it unfair to show your brother the burn scar from when he pushed you into a red-hot rune on the control console of the portal that he made (Stanley. That's enough)--

See above argument (this is your problem, Stanley. You still haven't grown up. You're still immature, childish, and resort to illogical tactics and low blows to win battles instead of resolving arguments in emotionally mature ways. How you survived this long without me, I'll never know. God knows if you didn't find purpose in bringing me back from your mistake some ditch would be calling your name right now)

...

(Stanley. I didn't--- that was too far of me. I just--- thirty years drifting across worlds, surviving in environments that are unrecognizable to the human condition---)

(The things Bill put me through--- I can't bear to even think of them. What he's done to me- I don't know if I can recover from them. And you... you don't deserve that)

(I'm sorry, Lee)

Are you allowed to lightly punch your brother for saying stupid things, and also apologize at the same time (sure, Lee, if that's what makes you happy)

How to convince brother that all you need to be happy is for him to be happy (...)

How to awkwardly walk away to take a shower after an emotionally vulnerable conversation (it's OK, Lee... hey, wait! Who said you got to shower first? Stanley, get back here!)

[joe-willow]

Why are people even writting with ai this is, this is like one of the most stupid thing ever. first of all, this isn't writting at all, this is just lazyness, and moreover disrespect to the art, whether We're writting à fanfiction or à book.

My philosophy teacher made me realize à lot of things about books/writting in general. My second thing is that writting is a Journey, yeah, even if you're writting some bl, romance or whatever, you will put your LIFE into that shit because it UOUR story it comes from your mind and you want it to be real to ksjmsbmsvl come to life to express yourself your idea you you your thing hour vision idk, and even if in the end you hate what you made you put in this increible efforts to make your textile sense and who knows, maybe someone will like it, or not, whatever, you made it you went through it. You did it you're done it you should be proud so I agree, people using ai to writte thing are WEAK. And for writting fanfics ?????? This is even worse. Yall using ai for this don't even know what are fanfics that's crazy

And lastly, unpopular opinion apparently, considering my classmates opinion on using ai, using ai for homework is STUPID. Like why would you do this. I understand that you can hate working for school/teachers and homework but like. Why. This is stupid. Just use your mind, you can come up with insane things yk. Just take some time I swear

And yeah some of you will tell me "oh but I had no time" YEAH FR ME TOO how many times do you think i gave homworks late ? Or not a all ? A LIT OF TIMES. yall need to assume that you didn't do your work and if you didn't have the tume, like, its ok ?????? I mean bro No need to use ai try something even if you only have one 1h left for an essay ig that giving your teacher something made by YOU even if It's hella rushes is better than using ai that will write the most boring shit ever + no sources + you just dont want to think + like oh my god yeah thinking is gonna hurt you + being able to think is literally what defines a human being

anyway, all this to say that ai SUCKS and isn't. And will never. Be a tool. Or a from of art. My ART TEACHER told me one day that I should try to use ai for my works as a tool. Do you understand to what we've cone to. What the hell is wrong with her. Does she consider art as something commercial or that must be done ? Art is you. It's none of the others business. ART IS YOU and I do not mean that you are art. And I don't think we can consider everything we create as art. You're not art. It's you will of creating something that expresses you, in any kind of way possible of what this could mean that will define your creations as art. Art is expressing. ai comes up with the most fifting things for your words, that's all. Ai can't do art. What it does is not art it's not a tool it's pure shit

If I went further, I'd say that no one is an artist (yeah even the people we consider as artists) and that at the same time evryone could possibly be an artist. Artist is not a job its not supposed to bring you money I'm losing my words and I'm really going off topic i already was off topic so much oh my god. Also random thought but art has no tools

Im maybe exaggerating a little bit. But ai sucks anyway. That's all.

no way ppl are using ai to write ao3. what happened to being a tortured writer. what happened to blood on the page. what happened to the ao3 curse. people used to get run over, have their houses burned down, break their entire spines and they still put in the work to finish a chapter. fuck you, using ai. y’all are weak

[sidekick-hero]

“You think I should bring some roses to the date?”

Steve looks beautiful in his moss-green button-up, and Eddie wants to scream into a pillow. Not just because he can correctly name the color of Steve’s clothes now, but because the man he’s been crushing on for months is about to go on a date with someone who isn’t him.

And of course, it has to be today. Valentine’s Day.

Steve’s first date since Nancy, his long-time girlfriend, broke up with him. Eddie had wanted to wait before asking him out himself—afraid it was too soon, that Steve was still hurting. That he’d be the rebound at best.

And now, Steve was going out with Spencer. On Valentine’s Day.

God, he hates everything about it. But he loves Steve, more than he’s in love with him. So—

“He’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you, Stevie. You don’t need flowers when he won’t be able to look at anything but you.”

The brilliant, sunshine smile Eddie gets in return is worth the aching in his heart.

“Thanks, Eds. I’d better get going, don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow—if everything goes like I planned.” Steve winks, all confidence and charm, and Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat. He’s glad to see Steve like this again. He just wishes it was for him, not some random guy who doesn’t even know that Steve always leaves a tiny sip in all his cups and glasses.

He forces himself to wish Steve fun and good luck. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he calls Robin.

“Uggghhhhh,” he groans into the phone as soon as she picks up.

Robin, the traitor, laughs. “Get a grip, Bambi. I already told you—man up and tell Steve how you feel. Stop whining at me.”

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re pathetic. Seriously, why can’t you just tell him? You’ve been head-over-heels for him since the day I met you.”

Eddie groans again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I love him, Robs. I want him to be happy.”

Robin’s voice softens. “You make him happy, you idiot. You always have. I was really worried about him after Nancy, but you pulled him out of his slump. The first time he smiled again after the breakup? That was because of you.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, because honestly, what’s there to say to that?

Robin sighs. “Just think about it, Eddie. We both love him. We both want him to be happy. I believe you can make that happen. Do you?”

After they hang up, Eddie sits in silence, Robin’s words echoing in his head. We both love him. We both want him to be happy.

Was she right? Could he make Steve happy?

No. No, he can’t. Eddie’s never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. And Steve deserves better. He deserves someone worthy of the wonderful man he is. Someone who loves him loudly, carries him on their hands. Someone who knows Steve hates his birthday because he was always alone on them as a kid. Someone who doesn’t just tolerate his weird habits but loves them, because they make him Steve.

Steve deserves someone who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone successful and put-together. Not a guy who still lives with two roommates, slings drinks at a bar, and clings to the dream that his band might one day make it.

The beeping of his phone startles him out of his thoughts. He sighs, expecting Robin, but—

It’s Steve.

Spencer’s still not here. You think he stood me up?

Eddie’s entire body tenses. That stupid son of a bitch.

If he did, he’s even stupider than his name. He types while yanking open his closet, grabbing for the one good shirt he owns. You want me to come get you?

The three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Fine. That’s fine. It gives Eddie time to throw the shirt on, shove his feet into his boots, and grab his keys.

Finally, Steve’s reply pops up.

No, it’s fine. I’ll wait some more. You know how traffic can be.

Eddie clenches his jaw. He can practically hear Steve making excuses, trying to be understanding. Trying to believe in someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Screw this.

Eddie doesn’t think. He just moves.

Keys in hand, he’s already out the door.

Good thing he knows what fancy restaurant Steve wanted to take his date to. If it were him, he'd take Steve to their favorite Italian restaurant, the one with the handmade pasta and the handmade tiramisu.

Maybe they can still go there.

The second Eddie pushes through the restaurant doors, his eyes land on Steve immediately.

He’s sitting at a small table by the window, drumming his fingers against the stem of his untouched water glass, his lips pressed into a tight line. His date is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie strides over like he should be here—because, honestly? He does.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, dropping into the chair across from Steve like this is their date. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, you know how it is.”

Steve startles, blinking up at him. “What—Eddie? What are you—?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Eddie lies easily, tossing his keys onto the table. “Figured you were either kidnapped or too nice to walk out on that douchebag, so here I am. Your knight in shining leather.”

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s something soft in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you look way too good to be sitting here alone.” Eddie leans back, eyes sweeping over him, exaggerating his admiration. “I mean, damn, Stevie. If I’d known you’d clean up this nice, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”

He means it as a joke. Mostly. But something shifts in Steve’s expression—his fingers tightening slightly around the glass, his smile faltering just a little.

“…You’re serious.”

Eddie swallows. Shrugs. “I mean… yeah?”

Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head again, but this time, he’s smiling. A real one. One that makes Eddie’s chest feel too tight.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve mutters, reaching for his jacket. “Come on, if you’re crashing my Valentine’s Day, you’re at least buying me dinner. At our restaurant.”

Eddie grins, hopping to his feet. “Now we’re talking. Babe, you know I’m the cheapest date in town.”

Steve snorts, bumping their shoulders as they head for the door. And yeah, okay—maybe Robin was right.

Because Steve looks happy. And Eddie could get used to that.

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter One: Long Time, No Sea

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel return to Fiji, and Tommy gives you the grand tour of the new hotel.

Chapter Warnings: language, fluff, wedding talk, smut (18+ MDNI), airplane sex, unprotected piv sex, light dom vibes, fingering, food and alcohol consumption, brief mention of OC substance abuse, possessiveness

WC: 6.7K

Series Masterlist

Eight Months Later

You breathed in a deep sigh as you scrolled through your emails in the back of the town car. It was pitch black outside as Richie drove you through the silent streets of Los Angeles to the airport, where Joel's private jet awaited your arrival.

"Don't be checkin' work now," Joel scolded from beside you. When your eyes shifted to him, you scoffed when you saw him doing the exact thing he told you not to do. He glanced up when he heard the noise and smirked.

"I got a company to run. You can relax a few hours til people are awake."

You rolled your eyes, chalking your attitude up to three hours of sleep and very little coffee, then stuffed your phone in your bag.

"It wasn't work, anyway."

"What was it?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"Wedding stuff," you shrugged, letting your gaze drift out the tinted window.

Joel put his phone in his lap and turned to you. "Nadia's buggin' you at this hour?"

Nadia was the highly recommended, very expensive wedding planner Joel had hired. She was wonderful: she had been in the business over ten years and had incredible taste. The problem you kept running into was the fact she was so goddamn detailed. She wanted your opinion on every possible thing, even down to the napkin rings, giving you at least ten different options, most of which looked exactly the same to you.

"I don't think she ever sleeps," you joked.

"What's she askin' 'bout now?"

"Fonts for the menus."

Joel shot you an incredulous look and you giggled. "It's a lot of work planning a wedding for over three hundred people."

"And you're doin' a great job," Joel assured you. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you more. I'm gonna be better-"

"No, no, it's fine," you said, cutting him off. But Joel shook his head and pocketed his phone before holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers.

"I'll pick the font. Lemme see."

"You want to pick the font for our dinner menu?" you squeaked. He grinned and nodded, hand still outstretched.

"Can't be that hard. Feels like somethin' I could handle."

You hummed and pulled your phone back out so you could bring up Nadia's email with the attached samples, then handed it over. You bit your lip when Joel squinted and tucked his chin into his chest before relenting and pulling out his glasses.

"You didn't need those to read your emails?"

"I need 'em 'cause all these damn fonts look exactly the same, baby," he murmured while his eyes scanned your screen for a few minutes. Finally, he huffed and shrugged his shoulders before picking one and holding it up. "How's that?"

"Edwardian Script," you read from your phone, then nodded. "Sure. I'll send it back to her."

"Unless you like somethin' else," he began.

"Nope, I love it," you told him as you typed out your reply to Nadia. Then you tucked your phone away and looked at him. "Besides, none of it really matters. I just want you."

Joel smiled and lovingly pinched your chin. "You got me. Always did." Then his lips brushed softly over yours and for a moment, all the stress that had been building up from work and wedding planning melted away.

"We're here, sir," Richie said from the front seat. You pulled away and peered through the front windshield at the dark tarmac where only Joel's plane sat, all lit up.

"You ready to open this damn hotel so we can have ourselves a wedding in a couple months?" Joel asked softly, fingers still stroking your jaw. You grinned and nodded before planting one more kiss on his lips.

"I'd marry you right here at the airport," you said, making him smile wide, "but Fiji does sound a little better, I guess."

Richie parked the town car and immediately jumped out to open your door. You took his hand and thanked him, shouldering your bag while Joel scooted out behind you and shook Richie's hand.

"Keep a good eye on the place."

"Will do, sir."

You threw your arms around Richie's neck and thanked him again with the promise to bring him and his wife something back from the island, then eagerly took Joel's hand so he could lead you to the plane.

A feeling of déjà vu came over you when you greeted the familiar looking pilot and crew. A lot had changed since the last time you found yourself boarding Joel's private jet to head off to paradise. You entered the cabin and dropped your bag on the couch with a tired sigh, hoping that this trip would be a lot less stressful than the last.

It was very early and you were beyond exhausted, so once the plane took off and you got the all clear to unbuckle your seatbelts, you made a beeline for the bedroom to curl up and rest. With a loud yawn, Joel followed, which was how you found yourself intertwined hours later.

When you cracked open one eye, you could tell from the beam of light desperately trying to break through around the circular covered windows that it was later in the morning. The sun had already risen high enough in the sky for it to be bright enough to wake you. It wasn't something you were used to; sleeping in. Even on the weekends, your body was so used to waking up that by seven at the latest, you were tossing and turning. But if you thought you were bad, Joel was worse. He was normally up before the sun. By the time you made your way downstairs, he was typically just leaving the home gym or eating breakfast. So to have him wrapped around you from behind still snoring softly in your ear while the sun shone brightly in the sky, your instinct told you to savor it.

You closed your eyes and leaned back into his hold, burrowing into his chest and soaking up his warmth. With the chaos of the wedding planning and the hotel on the brink of opening in just two weeks, life had been hectic. It was nice to have some time for just the two of you.

It was so peaceful, you nearly found yourself drifting back to sleep, but then you felt Joel's beard tickle your neck. Half a second later, he inhaled deeply and his arms flexed around your middle, tugging you slightly closer. A satisfied groan rumbled in his chest when he woke up enough to remember where you were, and then his lips grazed the side of your neck.

You giggled when his beard dragged across that sensitive spot behind your ear and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Mornin'."

You shuddered at his thick, sleep addled voice. "Good morning," you said sleepily. Your body felt boneless, muscles perfectly relaxed. "How much more time do you think we have?"

With a heavy sigh, Joel rolled back to tap a button on the nightstand behind him. Like magic, a small television quietly emerged from the depths of a dresser situated across the room. Then the screen lit up, showing a tiny airplane arcing over the ocean. On the side of the screen, stats were listed, including how much time was left on your flight.

"Got eight more hours," he said before pressing a soft kiss against your throat. You smiled and closed your eyes when his arms wrapped around you once again, pleased he wasn't in his usual rush to get up and check his phone. But then his hips bumped into you, giving away his arousal, and it dawned on you why he wasn't in a hurry that particular day.

"Do you have any ideas on how we can pass the time?" you asked breathlessly. His fingers began to toy with the hem of your sweatshirt, making you squirm under the covers. Without answering, his hand disappeared up your front. He slid slowly across your belly until he was cupping one breast in his palm, causing you to sharply suck in air through your nose when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

"No bra?"

"I had just rolled out of bed, remember?" you whispered. Joel made a pleased noise behind you before switching to your other breast.

"Can't wait to see you in those bikinis again," he said softly against your ear.

"You see me in bikinis all the time at home," you gasped, eyelids fluttering as he continued to tease you underneath your sweatshirt.

"Ain't the same. You're different at the beach. More relaxed." His lips grazed your shoulder and you whined. You hadn't even realized you were rolling your hips into his as he flicked and rolled your nipples until his other hand flattened out across your stomach to stop you. "You want it bad, huh?" he teased.

You pressed your lips firmly together and nodded. A sigh of relief broke free when he slipped his fingers past your waistband, dipping experimentally through your slit.

"Shit," he hissed, "you do want it bad."

"Joel," you moaned, hand reaching behind to curl around the back of his head. He slipped two fingers inside you, earning a gasp from you both, then slowly began to stretch you open. Every time he withdrew his fingers, he slid them up to your clit, circling it wetly once or twice before diving back inside. As the pressure between your legs grew, each leisurely swirl and thrust pushing you higher and higher, you began to search for his mouth over your shoulder. His lips collided with yours, tongues tangling messily in between your shared moans within the stillness of the cabin.

"Oh, that's it," Joel crooned against your mouth. Your hips were bucking into his hand, chasing your high with little moans that kept getting louder the faster his hand moved. "Give me one, then I'm gonna fuck you so good, you ain't ever gonna wanna leave this bed."

Your orgasm slammed into you, causing your back to arch away from his chest. There was something about the possessive tone in his voice, the authoritative command, assuring you he knew you better than you knew you. He knew what you liked and he knew what you needed. His steady hands were always in control, in every possible way. You loved taking care of him, but you'd be damned if you didn't love it when he took care of you, too.

When he felt your muscles relax and heard a contented sigh leave your lips, he was on you in the blink of an eye. With one quick roll, he had you face down. He reared back and tugged your pants down your legs, tossing them onto the floor before sliding your sweatshirt over your head while you just laid there, still soft and pliant from your climax.

His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling them up while your chest remained pressed against the bed. All at once, he slid his cock inside of you with a heavy groan. You had expected him to fuck you just like that: face resting on the sheets, ass up in the air for his taking, but to your surprise the flat of his hand pushed your lower back down to the bed.

A question formed on your lips but never reached the light of day because he began to move, destroying any chance at finding your voice. His legs bracketed yours, which had been pushed together and stretched straight underneath him, leaving just enough room for his cock to slide in and out of your cunt.

A strangled moan pushed itself past your lips, getting lost in the soft bedding. Joel flopped down, pressing his chest against your back, forearms planted on either side of your head. The angle was so intense and it was nearly impossible to move from the way his body formed a shell around you. All you could do was lie there and take it. Your fingers curled around the plush comforter while his hips rocked against you at a torturously slow pace, forcing you to feel every inch as he murmured filth into your ear.

"How's that, huh? Feel good? This what my girl needed? So full'a me, bet you feel it in your throat." His teeth sunk into your shoulder, pinching your skin at the same time as a particularly hard thrust. It finally made you cry out loud enough that it had him chuckling in your ear, "Flight crew's gonna hear."

It was the last thing on earth you cared about. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed was Joel and what he was doing to pull unfathomable amounts of pleasure from your body.

"S-so go-od," you stammered, eyes rolling to the back of your head while Joel continued to fuck you deeper than he ever had before. You must have looked like an absolute mess. Hair tangled from sleep, now spread out across your pillow in every which way. Eyes all glassy, jaw hung open while you struggled to breathe beneath him, but it wasn't his weight that was stealing all the air from your lungs. It was the slow drag of his cock, forcing you to just lie there and feel.

"I like you like this," Joel rasped in your ear. He began to move a little faster then, hips shifting and angling in such a way that it had your vision blurring and your pulse skyrocketing. "Can tell nothin' else is goin' on in that pretty head other than how good it feels when I'm fuckin' you. Am I right?"

You nodded while lifting your ass just the slightest bit. All you could smell was his skin, all you could feel was his warmth, all you could hear was his deep voice telling you how beautiful you were, how hard you worked and how nice it must feel to just relax and let him take care of you.

His palm slid across the top of your hand so your fingers could lace together, but when he felt the sharp sting of your engagement ring between his fingers, he smirked and started to fuck you a little harder. He fucking loved seeing that ring on your left hand again, but loved it even more that you wore the second ring on your right finger. Call him possessive, crazy... whatever, he didn't care. It could not be any fucking clearer who you belonged to now.

Just then, the airplane hit a small patch of turbulence. The shifting in the cabin caused him to drive his cock deeper inside you, making you gasp and cry out his name.

"Shh, baby," he chuckled, but he kept moving. Your other hand reached back, grabbing a handful of his messy curls, tugging him down into the crook of your neck. His mouth immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the skin there until he left little bruises.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. He was everywhere. His body completely covered yours, trapped between him and the bed, cock buried so deep you weren't sure you would be able to walk out of the room when he was done. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his lips left your neck to find your mouth, plunging his tongue past your teeth with a groan you felt vibrate against your back.

Your entire body began to shudder when you felt it. That pool of pleasure that had been slowly filling back up was about to overflow. You tried to warn him, but words were hard to come by. Fortunately, his mouth was still seared over yours when it happened.

You might have said his name, or maybe you were just cursing, but either way you knew you were definitely screaming because by the time your orgasm finished crashing over you, your throat felt raw and you were panting for air against his mouth like you had just run a marathon.

"Good girl," he whispered before lifting his head back up. You were grateful for it, the chance to breathe fresh air even while he rammed into you mercilessly for about thirty more seconds, until his body went rigid and he gasped your name, spilling himself deep inside you.

Joel pulled out and sat up, causing your eyes to widen from the sudden loss, and he flipped you back over. His hand caressed your face gently, swiping away tears you didn't even realize were there, as he examined you closely.

"You alright? Was it too much?"

His chest was heaving and his cock was still hard between his legs. He hadn't even given himself a chance to enjoy his release and soften inside you before checking on you.

"I'm good," you rasped, throat still hoarse. Your shaky hand came up to cup his. "Promise. I'm good. Just - holy shit," you whispered, letting your eyes slide closed so you could melt back into the mattress. Joel laughed once he was satisfied you were telling the truth and collapsed next to you.

"You hungry?" he asked casually while unplugging his phone. He bent one leg as he studied the screen, completely naked and unbothered while you were still waiting for your limbs to stop shaking.

"Where on earth do you find the energy?" you asked. His eyes found yours and he shrugged.

"I slept in."

You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief before turning to sit up and gather your clothes. "I'm gonna go wash up," you told him. He made a little noise of acknowledgement as you staggered into the bathroom. When you caught sight of your reflection, you twisted your face in disgust and began to quickly get to work, hoping to make it look a little less like you just had the life fucked out of you before entering the main cabin.

Since you were only a few hours away from landing, you decided to slip on the white linen dress you had picked out. With two fucking rings on your hands, you decided to keep accessories to a minimum and instead just slipped a pair of sunglasses into your purse for later before timidly opening the bedroom door in search of Joel.

As you expected, he was sitting at the table typing away on his laptop. You frowned when you saw he had changed his clothes to a casual short sleeved button down and relaxed khakis.

"Didn't you want to take a shower first?" you asked, sitting across from him. He smirked and shook his head, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

"Nope."

His gaze lifted quickly and he shot you a wink. You laughed and dug around in your duffel bag for a book to read, deciding work could wait.

"What's the plan when we get there?" you asked, leaving your worn paperback on the table in front of you, then reached for a cold bottle of water from the cup holder by the window.

"Tommy's meetin' us at the airport," Joel said, abandoning the keyboard and leaning back into his chair. "He's gonna take us to the hotel. Ain't ready for guests just yet but we're gonna stay in the presidential villa. Wanna take her for a test drive, see if anythin's missin'."

"So, we get the whole hotel to ourselves?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. Before Joel could respond, a flight attendant emerged from the galley with two plates of covered food. You both made room on the table and she placed them down in front of you.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked.

"No, we're all set," you said, looking up to give her a friendly smile. Joel agreed and she quickly made her way back into the kitchen, and it was only then you realized she had been unable to look either of you in the eye.

"You don't think they heard us, do you?" you whispered. Joel had already begun eating, but around a mouthful of chicken he gave you a look and slowly nodded.

"You weren't exactly quiet, baby," he reminded you.

Your eyes widened and your face instantly grew hot. Pressing your palms against your cheeks, you shook your head and groaned.

"Oh my god, tell me you're joking."

Joel just laughed and took another bite of food. "None of their goddamn business, who cares?"

"I care!"

"Then next time I'll just have to put somethin' in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet."

Your ears burned and you gently swatted at him from across the table, making him laugh. It was sweet, really, to think about the last time the two of you were on his plane heading to Fiji and how different Joel was now. Before, he was gruff and very serious, entirely focused on business and not at all interested in having any fun once you arrived on the island. To see him now with a smile on his face and wearing casual clothes in place of a stiff suit made your chest swell with happiness.

"Have you heard anything from Sarah?"

"Not yet, but I warned her I'd fuckin' know if she had any parties while we're gone," he said, then checked his phone for any possible missed calls or texts from his daughter.

"Joel, she's seventeen and she's got a whole mansion to herself for the next two weeks. She's going to have friends over."

"Friends is one thing, but I ain't havin' any boys sniffin' 'round her in my own house while I'm gone," he said sternly. You hid your smile behind your fork, secretly adoring the way Joel had become so paternal in the past year. "'Sides, she ain't alone. I got staff there 'round the clock keepin' an eye on her and the place."

Joel and Sarah's mother didn't have a very pleasant history. After he discovered she had gotten pregnant, she tried to bait him into marriage just so she could have access to all of his money. Joel broke things off with her and closed himself off emotionally for over a decade. He ended up having a difficult time maintaining a relationship with Sarah, as well, but after some encouragement on your part, they reunited. Progress was slow at first, but you didn't expect anything less. Then Joel found out Sarah's mother struggled on and off with substance abuse, something that kept him awake more nights than you could count. After a particularly long night of Joel tossing and turning, you suggested asking Sarah to move in with the two of you, and while it took some time to get used to a third person in the house, you noticed Joel immediately started sleeping better. Sarah still visited her mother often, occasionally even staying overnight for a weekend here or there, but Joel's mind was at peace knowing she was safe.

"Alright," you said, folding your hands on the table after your plates were cleared. "So Tommy's taking us to the hotel - then what?"

"Was gonna have him show me 'round, check on all the progress, see what need's doin' 'fore next week."

"Next week? The hotel doesn't open for two weeks," you reminded him. He shook his head and glanced at his phone when a notification popped up.

"Soft open is next week, so we only get the place to ourselves for a few days," he said, then cocked an eyebrow before adding, "think you'll be able to behave yourself?"

"Me?" you sputtered with your hand pressed to your chest in mock offense. "I'm an angel, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Joel chuckled and turned his attention back to his laptop while you stared out the window, lost in thought.

"So are my parents staying at The Parador?"

Your parents, who had never left the mainland United States, agreed to a vacation only after they found out all expenses would be paid when you made your plans to return for the grand opening. He had told you at the time he thought your mother would want to be involved in the wedding planning, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was his way of trying to score some points with them.

When you told them the news about your engagement, they were shocked, to say the least. It wasn't the reaction you were hoping for but to be fair, you had hardly given them any time to come around after you had begged your mother to give Joel a chance. Since your big news, they hadn't come out to visit once and any time you brought up wedding plans over the phone, your parents got very quiet before ultimately changing the subject to something else.

Joel shook his head. "Booked 'em a nice villa at The Sapphire. Didn't want them to put up with the growin' pains from a new staff. Wanted 'em to be comfortable."

You studied him from over the top of his computer, heart breaking a little bit at the tone in his voice. He didn't like to let it show, but you could tell it bothered him. Part of you wondered if he booked them a trip so he would get a chance to get to know them better and change their minds.

"That was thoughtful," you said softly. Joel just grunted and continued to work, so you stretched your leg out under the table, nudging his knee with your foot to get his attention. When his eyes flickered back up to you, you tilted your head to the side and said, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, you know. I'm the one spending the rest of my life with you - not them."

The corner of his mouth twitched and you smiled when he said, "I know. Just want them to know how much I love you, is all."

You knew Joel could come off a little brash at first. Hell, your first impression of him wasn't the best. In fact, it took some time before you could see past that hardened, cutthroat businessman exterior to who he really was underneath.

Although... when Joel met your parents, you saw with your own eyes how hard he was trying. He was warm and inviting the entire time your parents were in his home. Their standoffish behavior didn't make much sense, but you chalked it up to the abundant displays of wealth combined with losing their only daughter to an entirely different lifestyle as their reason, and knew deep down that one day they would understand why you fell in love with him.

"Thought your folks were joinin' us, sweetheart," Tommy said from the driver's seat of a beat up work truck.

"Not for a few more days," you replied, tightly pressing your lips together to keep yourself from squealing when Tommy took a sharp, bumpy turn. Joel was in the backseat next to you, hanging onto the door for dear life. If there wasn't a rip in the leather digging into the back of your thigh, you would have laughed at the expression on his face. The old Dodge truck was a far cry from the luxurious town cars or any one of the hideously expensive vehicles currently in Joel's garage back in L.A.

"Aw, that's nice. Got any plans?"

"Uh-" you squeezed your eyes shut when Tommy hit a pothole, then took a deep breath. "Yeah. I was going to take them into town to eat one night, and show them around The Parador so they could see exactly what it is I'm spending all my time on," you laughed. Joel shot you a quick smile before furrowing his brow when Tommy ran a stop sign. "Maybe see if they'd want to do jet skis or check out the fire dancers. I was gonna leave it up to them, but I know they want to do their own thing, too."

"And they'll be plannin' the wedding, right?" Tommy confirmed, quirking an eyebrow at you over his sunglasses in the review mirror.

"Oh, yeah, duh," you laughed, "that, too."

Tommy grinned and dropped an arm out his window, letting his fingers dance on the warm breeze as he drove up the service road behind the hotel.

"Front's just been paved, don't wanna drive on it just yet," he explained when Joel began coughing from all the dirt kicking up.

Finally, he threw the truck into park, the radio and air conditioning cutting at the same time so you could now hear the distant shouts of workmen and power tools coming from inside the hotel.

"Alright, brother... you ready to finally see what all your money's gotten you?"

Joel kicked open his door and slid out, then turned to extend a hand for you.

When you exited the truck, the first thing that struck you was the sheer size of the resort. The parcel of land Joel bought from Glenn was almost ten acres of literal paradise. Through the massive glass windows that were installed practically everywhere so the guests could enjoy the view, no matter where they were. Amongst all the natural foliage, you knew somewhere was a lagoon that had a lounging area built around it for guests, along with four climate controlled pools and six different restaurants, all of which offered outdoor seating. In addition to all that was a private beach, a tennis court, a handful of manmade waterfalls, and a golf course.

And all of that was just the outside.

"Better be good. Those purchase orders were lookin' mighty pricey the past couple months," he grumbled. You squeezed his hand and smiled up at him as you followed Tommy up to the back entrance of the hotel, your excitement contagious and causing Joel to crack a smile of his own.

"Forgot how damn hot it is here," Joel said, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. Tommy twisted around to hold open the door and stepped to the side, allowing the two of you to enter first.

"You're in luck. AC was turned on last week."

The hotel was two weeks away from the grand opening and one week away from the soft opening, so when you entered the lobby, it was far from the construction site you had remembered from previous video calls. Joel had come out by himself a few times, but you hadn't seen the hotel unless it was through a screen. You realized quickly the videos and pictures didn't do the place justice.

"Two story lobby," Tommy said, pointing up like you could somehow miss the massive, sparkling chandeliers hanging above your heads. "Front desk is tucked into the side next to the doors so the guests experience the beauty of the place right off the bat, 'stead of starin' at a desk with computers, just like you said," he continued as he lead you further into the space. Joel nodded and slowly looked around, examining every sconce and white marble tile for any defects while your fingers trailed over the textured bronze wallpaper lining the entire entrance.

Tommy continued to talk, pointing things out and searching for Joel's approval: the deep teal couches and chairs that scattered around the room. The tropical looking café set across from the front desk that carried more blends of coffee than Starbucks. The spotless white flooring and countertops. He even showed you the bathrooms, making sure everything was perfect and up to Joel's standards.

When Tommy finally saw his brother crack a pleased smile with a firm clap on the shoulder, his face lit up with relief.

"Y'did good," Joel told him before releasing his grip and spinning back around. His next order of business was to introduce himself to the hotel staff, who were all adorned in pressed black pants with a matching black shirt that had a flare of deep teal on their breast pocket which matched the lobby furniture. You smiled to yourself as you followed Joel's lead, shaking their hands before stopping in the kitchen to meet more employees. All of the hard work he had put into this hotel, his dream, was actually paying off.

Afterwards, Tommy led you up to the presidential villa, which was in it's own private wing. While you rode the elevator, he explained how each room had a balcony, two flat screen televisions, pillowtop mattresses, blackout drapes, a safe, and a small kitchen area.

"And that's just what all rooms got standard," Tommy said once he stepped off the elevator and fished out the keycard they handed him at the front desk. "'Course, there's different levels, y'know that."

You and Joel exchanged looks behind Tommy's back while he unlocked the door to your room. Obviously, you knew all of that - especially Joel. He was the one who had final say over every detail. But hearing how excited and proud Tommy felt kept either of you from saying a word.

What surprised you first when you entered the villa was, even though you had taken an elevator up a few floors, you still found yourself looking out at the beach through the spotless glass windows. Tommy said something about a hilly terrain being the reason and how much of a pain it was to build around it, but you hardly heard a word because your eyes were drawn to the huge painting hung behind the soft, white couch. It was an exact replica of the painting Joel had bought you the last time you were on the island. Ellie's familiar brush strokes of soft pinks, blues and whites filled the canvas. You laughed in disbelief before you rushed over to examine it closer, then glanced happily over your shoulder at Joel, who stood back with his hands shoved in his pockets and a pleased look on his face.

"Was hard to keep it a secret but I wanted to surprise you."

You jut out your lower lip and held out your hand for him to join you, your expression softening when you heard the shy tone in his voice. Tommy was across the room, opening up the big glass doors to let in the sea breeze when you took Joel's hand and stood on your tiptoes, giving him a kiss that had his cheeks turning pink.

"I love you," you whispered when you fell back onto the flats of your feet. Tommy began fiddling with the remote for the stereo, talking to himself while Joel gazed down at you adoringly.

"I love you, too."

A year and a half earlier

It had been almost a month without you, but it felt like more. Every breath hurt, he could barely sleep, and forget about focusing on work. It was supposed to be the highlight of his career - obtaining the unobtainable parcel of land in Fiji. Yet he couldn't enjoy it, because his every waking thought was consumed with you.

It was even worse being so far away, back on the island where everything started and ended. Yet he still made sure to pick out the next day's floral arrangement to be sent to your door. It was the only way he could remind you that he was thinking of you, even though you had begged him to stop, he wouldn't, because it was the only way to make sure you didn't forget about him.

Once he picked the arrangement, he emailed it to Liam and with a sigh, dropped his phone onto the table next to his lounge chair.

The sun was beginning to set; casting gorgeous hues of bright orange, pink, and yellow across the sparkling water.

You would have loved it.

He figured it was now or never, so he shucked off his shirt and made his way to the shoreline.

Just like he remembered, the water was warm and crystal clear. He submerged himself up to his shoulders and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. No matter how hard he tried to relax and enjoy himself, his inner turmoil kept his muscles tense and his mind busy. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Why couldn't he had just spared you both the pain and gotten over his bullshit? You hadn't asked him for much. You just wanted to be let in, you wanted him to trust you with his deepest shame and regrets. But his fear of being judged and losing you was too much.

Ironically, he lost you anyway, so what was the point?

The waves lapped gently over his shoulders and the sound of people packing up their things on the beach drifted across the breeze. He wondered what you were doing at that very moment. Given the twenty hour time difference, it would be around bedtime for you, but the day before. He liked to imagine you getting ready for bed, putting all those different creams on your face and neck before brushing your teeth. He hadn't ever seen the inside of your apartment, so all he could do was remember how you looked getting ready for bed when you stayed with him on the island. You used to hurry into bed and dive under the covers to curl up against him. He smiled to himself at the memory, missing how unexpectedly comforting your presence was to him at night.

Maybe you missed it, too. Maybe you missed it right at the exact same moment.

When he reopened his eyes, the sun had sunk considerably lower and the beach was mostly empty, so he got to work. He walked slowly through the water, using his feet to search for the precious pink seashells to replace the ones he accidentally broke. Every few feet, he felt a cluster of smooth shells with the tips of his toes. It took almost ten minutes, but he finally was able to collect a decent amount. He waded back to shore, arms full amidst the twilight. Once he got back to his towel, he noticed a good portion of the shells were broken or cracked. He tossed those into the sand, only keeping the ones that looked absolutely perfect.

When he was satisfied, he wrapped them carefully in a spare towel and collected his things before heading back to his room.

He wasn't stupid. He knew seashells wouldn't fix everything. But he was hoping the gesture was enough to show you how much he cared.

Maybe it was a start.

Present Day

Joel trailed after you as you drifted from room to room, then grinned when you squealed at the master suite, which was right off the sitting room. He hadn't told you yet, but the presidential villa was going to rebrand into the honeymoon villa. He had created it with you in mind and based on the way you were jumping with excitement when you saw how a private garden and a courtyard filled in on either side of the glass walls surrounding the spa bathtub, he did a good job.

"Joel, this room is insane," you grinned. He stood next to the tub while you skipped down the galley-like closet until you reached the opposite side, turning around in the entryway of the bedroom and bathroom.

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

Joel smirked and nodded before strolling past the tub, into the bedroom. You followed on the other side, staring in awe at the floor to ceiling glass French doors that opened out to the infinity pool.

"I can't believe we get to spend two weeks here," you breathed. Joel walked up behind you, bending so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and wrap his arms around your waist.

"We can come here any time you want."

You giggled when his stubble brushed over your skin, tickling you.

"How about we come back here in a couple months?" you asked, leaning into his hold and letting him sway you back and forth. "Maybe get married or something?"

Joel chuckled into your skin, giving your shoulder a kiss.

"There's nothin' I want more."

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[feeder86]

Bossed

Ben huffed as he slouched in his desk chair, gazing at the computer screen. The numbers hadn’t changed but there may still have been some elusive way in which he could process them in order to make the sales figures look less dire than they actually were. He just needed to find it; otherwise, his neck could be on the line. The downward trend had been a worrying phenomenon ever since he’d joined the company almost 12 months ago, and he hadn’t been in the least bit surprised when their boss, Elise, lost her job over it all last week.

Reaching for one of the doughnuts from the box he’d picked up from the store across the street, Ben mulled over the problem, sucking his fingers and thumbs before reaching in for a second.

“Okay, listen up people!” came the call of Rob, the overly perky middle manager, making his usual trip to their office space as the day was drawing to a close. “I want to introduce you to someone,” he announced, motioning towards the tall, strapping older man in his late thirties. “This is Elijah. He’s the company’s new hire and we’re super lucky to have him,” he gushed; sucking up in his trademark style. “He’s taking over from Elise and has lots of incredible ideas about how he’s going to turn things around here!” He began retreating, already starting a round of applause that he expected everyone else to join in with.

With a decent amount of conformists now standing, Elijah stepped forwards and smiled with false modesty. “Thank you,” he nodded, quietly shushing them by gently motioning his hands for them to stop clapping. “I’m very excited to be here,” he began, revealing a slight Germanic accent that made him appear ever so slightly harsher. His body was strong and athletic, not a hair out of place; carrying himself with power and composure. “From what I have seen here today, there are clearly the building blocks of a potentially very strong team.”

Ben listened in, reaching for another doughnut. Sure, Elijah looked the part, but how long could he really survive on this sinking ship?

“Excuse me?” Elijah called out, looking directly at Ben. “Are you just going to sit there eating your doughnuts whilst your new boss addresses you for the first time?” he asked patronisingly, looking around at the others as if in disbelief at Ben’s rudeness.

Ben froze in shock as everyone turned to look at him, still in his desk chair with a half eaten doughnut clutched in his hand.

“Put it down,” Elias nodded at the doughnut, as if Ben was the rudest person he had ever met. “Manners cost nothing!”

Ben did as he was told, rising to his feet like everyone else and brushing the sugar off his chest. He suddenly had the feeling that he was back in school all over again.

Elijah’s warm greeting appeared to have been abandoned and he huffed as if he had suddenly been put in the foulest of moods. “This is exactly the sort of thing I dislike. You all have to realise that how you conduct yourselves in the office has a huge impact. We’re going to have clients coming in and out of here all day long.” Still his eyes were fixed on Ben. “What age are you, boy?” he asked directly.

Ben stuttered a little, feeling a bead of sweat running down his back. “I’m twenty three, sir,” he replied.

Elijah shook his head as if he was disgusted. “Twenty three and you were just slouching there in your desk chair eating an entire box of doughnuts whilst your boss was in the room talking to you. You think that’s appropriate?”

“No, sir,” Ben shot back, feeling that he could be fired at any second.

“So you’ve put on a little weight over the holidays?” the man taunted next, not pausing for Ben to respond. “You know how I can tell? That shirt of yours is too tight around your stomach. Do you think the rest of us want to see that?” he asked.

“No, sir!” Ben stated at once, swallowing hard. He knew he was up ten pounds or so since the start of December, but he hadn’t seen the point in buying larger shirts when, in all likelihood, he’d naturally drop most of it within a few weeks.

“Is this the type of look we want our clients to associate us with?” Elijah asked the staff collectively, motioning from afar towards Ben’s chubby form squeezed into an ill-fitting shirt.

“No,” they all replied, shaking their heads as if each once was keen not to be placed in the firing line next.

Ben could feel the blood pumping to his face. He’d been as skinny as a rake when he started college at eighteen, but he’d gradually thickened up from that tall, slender drainpipe-like boy of 145lbs, to the altogether softer look he had developed now at 190lbs. He’d started to get a little paunch by his second year, spurred on by the cheap, processed foods that made up the majority of his diet. He’d always imagined himself losing it eventually, but the right time had just never seemed to materialise. He’d packed on an extra inch around his waist every year since then, with even his nipples starting to grow softer and more pointed in the last six months.

Elijah stared at him hard. Ben remembered thinking that this could go either way and, in that moment, he imagined himself carrying a cardboard box of his things out of the office for the last time should Elijah choose to make an example of him there and then. What better way to begin a new regime than firing someone within the first few minutes? 

“I want you in a shirt that actually fits tomorrow,” Elijah finally told him, taking a quick glance at the rest of him. “Pants too,” he nodded.

“Yes, sir!” Ben nodded gratefully, straightening up and sucking his stomach in; sighing with relief as  Elijah at last moved on to continue his speech.

Ben grumbled to himself as he saw the money debited from his account for the new work clothes he had been forced to purchase earlier that month. It had been a hard slog to pay day now that Elijah was in charge. Ben felt as though he was constantly under the microscope with Elijah installing software that allowed him to see what was on his screen at all times. 

“I want it put over there,” Elijah instructed the maintenance guys as he pointed to the vending machine that had always been behind Ben’s desk. With a headset on, the man probably assumed that Ben couldn’t hear him as he chuckled and told them that he needed to get it away from ‘that chubby one.’

Inwardly, Ben shouted expletives at the top of his voice, despite knowing better than to react. Six people had already left or been fired so far; even Rob, the master at sucking up to the bosses, had been given his marching orders. In their places, new recruits, more suited to Elijah’s style of management, began to trickle in. The familiar atmosphere had changed. That warm family-like environment had been ripped away. It was unnerving and stressful. Even the vending machine's new location, despite being further away, meant that it was now directly in Ben’s eyeline, making him obsess even more than usual for a quick sugar hit when things were getting tough.

At only 190lbs, Ben was far from being the chubbiest guy who worked there. However, it was the fact that his soft physique was combined with such a youthful age that Elijah seemed to find so intolerable. “I was starting my first business at twenty three,” he’d lectured Ben one afternoon after seeing him returning from a fast food place. “I wasn’t sitting around, stuffing my face with all this rubbish!”

Ben listened, hating every single thing about his new boss. Despite the initial boost Elijah’s harsh criticisms had given him to set up a gym subscription, Ben had actually found his energy completely drained after a day at work. The gym was only across the street, yet it was also where Elijah himself often frequented. Whilst there, Ben could sense the man’s eyes upon him as he sniggered with similarly muscular friends in a way that Ben couldn’t help feeling was directed at him. After only three sessions, he stopped going entirely. His work role had changed under the new system, with Ben practically chained to his desk chair from the moment he arrived at 8.55am each morning. Just like the fifteen pounds he’d gained during his final college exams, Ben’s old stress eating habits were coming back to bite him. He knew he’d put on more weight and, even worse, his boss knew it as well. Ben had tried to confide his frustrations about Elijah’s comments to his cousin who lived close by, however she merely brushed them aside, agreeing entirely with the anecdotes of Elijah’s observations and simply stating that ‘the truth hurts sometimes’.

Often, Ben’s dislike of his boss would manifest in the most peculiar and even counter-productive ways. Only last week he had seen a giant celebration cake on sale and he had gorged upon it all that very night, taking satisfaction in imagining how disgusted Elijah would be. “Fuck him!” Ben had shouted aloud, unbuckling the top button of his pants as he sipped on some chocolate milk to fully round off the experience.

Ben had never had a double chin before. However, it was becoming more and more apparent each time he shaved that the entire shape of his face had begun altering. He’d recently taken a picture of his body for someone he had been flirting with on an app, immediately getting blocked straight afterwards. He couldn’t blame them. He looked awkward and dumpy with his fat stomach popping out. Perhaps it didn’t help that most of his friends here in the city were so large and overweight; enjoying video games and the occasional board game nights, rather than anything active. Instead of focusing on his habits, Ben decided that it was actually his job that was contributing most to his expanding waistline. As such, he began to seriously look for a role in another company. He applied, finding he was rejected time and time again due to what he suspected was a very mediocre reference from Elijah.

With the annual charity fundraiser in December, Ben’s workload increased even more dramatically than the year before. There were so many elements to it and red tape to get through. He knew he would be stuck at the office for at least a couple of hours after everyone else. If only Elijah had left at the same time, Ben felt like everything could have run a lot smoother. He’d had a plan in his head for some time, knowing that he could corrupt the software on Elijah’s computer to disrupt the man’s ability to simply pop up on his screen like he regularly enjoyed doing. If Ben was successful, he’d be a hero amongst the staff by the time morning came around again.

Just before half six, the detestable man finally headed out, dressed and prepared for his usual workout at the gym across the street. He made a snarky comment about the carb-loaded snacks Ben had bought for himself as he continued trying to catch up. Some things never changed.

“This is just between you and me,” Ben winked at Mary who was pottering around cleaning up the office space. 

Mary grinned back at him, having listened to many woes about Elijah’s management style from the others who had stayed late or quit over the last year. “I know nothing!” she laughed, fully prepared to close her eyes and ears to everything that was about to take place.

The system login on Elijah’s computer was easily overcome. The boss had boasted to Ben weeks earlier that he used the remarkable time from his last marathon run as his password; a time that he had repeated to Ben over and over again as he saw him popping backwards and forwards to the vending machine.

And just like that, Ben was in. Elijah’s whole computer opened up to him like a picture book. In fact, it hadn’t even been shut down correctly. There were so many pages and tabs open all at once. But, what was that? Ben had to go back, caught by the most striking image.

“Everything okay, dear?” asked Mary, popping her head inside the office.

“YES! Fine!” Ben exclaimed, eyes wide and startled. He  couldn’t begin to explain what he had just seen, even if he had tried.

A couple of weeks later, Ben was enjoying that blissful period between Christmas and New Year when he didn’t have to think in the slightest about work. He sat around a table with his housemates, Gray and Eddie, alongside their friend Joe; all equally as nerdy as each other, engrossed in a complex board game, surrounded by the tastiest sweet and savory snacks.

“Did you guys know that there are some folks who are really into larger guys?” Ben asked the three others; all of them significantly larger and heavier than himself. 

“Of course there are,” chuckled Gray, looking at Ben like he was simple.

“No…” Ben clarified, trying to rephrase what he was saying. “I mean… did you know that there are some people who really get off to the whole weight gain thing; seeing someone going from slim to really, really fat?”

“Oh, like a feeder, you mean?” Eddie asked him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few girls approach me on dating apps who were into that,” he nodded knowledgeably.

“And me,” Joe agreed. “They get off on wanting to feed you.”

Ben looked at the pair of them, both large and round, weighing no less than 350 lbs each. “And what did you say to them?”

“Depends on how hot they are,” Gray shrugged, chuckling as both Joe and Eddie fully agreed with him. “Why? Have you come across one?” he asked curiously. “You’ve definitely packed on a good few pounds this year,” he chuckled, looking daringly at the others, like he had just said something they had all wanted to mention for weeks.

“You’re getting tits like mine,” Gray laughed, reaching his hand out to poke the softer chest.

“Shut up!” Ben laughed back, snapping away the hands that reached out to him. “I’m not that…” he began, before deciding to refocus the conversation. “It’s just this guy in work,” he began. “He’s vile. I thought he found my weight completely repulsive but… now I think he could actually be into it. Not me, specifically,” he clarified. “But, bigger guys in general.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” laughed Gray, throwing back his beer.

“Yeah,” chuckled Joe, seeming genuinely pleased for Ben. “Chasers are pretty rare!”

Ben shook his head. They’d all seriously misunderstood the point he was trying to make. However, he was at least pleased that he had some friends with some experience in this area. He’d felt like he was going insane for a couple of days after he had seen the pictures of the enormously obese guys on Elijah’s computer screen. Some of them would make even Gray look slender. Then he’d gasped in surprise as he’d read the kinky chat log his boss had been having as he encouraged an already very obese guy from another state to stuff himself with the pizzas; pizzas that Elijah had apparently ordered online and sent over himself. “Like I said…” he mumbled to the other guys. “I hate the guy’s guts. I’d never go there with him. It’s just… interesting.” 

Discovering Elijah’s kinky preferences could not have come at a worse time for Ben. The revelation had sent him into a period of complete thoughtlessness about his eating as he was utterly determined to enjoy himself over the holidays with his large housemates. More dessert? Why not? Another beer? Sure! Ben looked at himself in the mirror, having stepped on the scales to discover that he had gained no less than twenty pounds in a single month. He hadn’t even known that such a gain was even possible. However, it was all there, clearly visible on his 260lb body: the advanced swathe of belly fat that had rounded out into a pot belly, with nipples sagging and resting above. His love handles felt intrusive as they pushed out from the sides and gis glutes and thighs appeared as if they had been pumped with blubber. Even at 6’2, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was a fat guy now. His jawline was non-existent and his double chin had been commented on by several family members on Christmas Day itself. The work pants were tight; far too tight. His shirt clung unflatteringly around his stomach, straining the buttons like it wanted to highlight to everyone just how much more of a gut he had on him this year; the collar almost choking him.

Ben huffed as he further investigated his reflection in the mirror; that shocking side profile with his protrusive stomach and widened rear, exaggerated even more by the tightness of the fabric. His tie would need to be extra long today to try and mask the straining of the buttons. He was turning into a fat fucking monster, he thought, grumbling to himself as he rubbed the arching shape of his stomach.

All he needed to do was make it through to lunchtime, Ben thought, parking his butt down on his desk chair. Then he could head out and buy a shirt that could help him blend in better, and some pants that didn’t make him panic each time he took a longer stride.

“Is Annie in today?” Ben asked aloud to his colleagues as he saw the empty chair.

“We just assumed that you’d eaten her,” came Elijah’s sarcastic tone, suddenly springing up from nowhere and walking across the room towards the main office.

A rolling chuckle sounded around the office, like the boss had just said exactly what they were all thinking. So, everyone had noticed his extra weight then? And he’d been trying so hard to suck it all in as well. He rolled his eyes, knowing that there was so much he could say about Elijah to embarrass him in return. He wondered what everyone would think if he told them all about the things he’d found on Elijah’s computer. Perhaps he would have told them all already, but for the email threatening immediate dismissal to the unknown culprit the day after Ben’s devious computer hack, once the sabotage had been discovered.

Sitting at his desk, Ben's stomach was rumbling and growling. For two whole weeks he had been eating and drinking whatever and whenever he wanted. Now, forced back into the mundane, lunchtime couldn’t come fast enough. Given that he’d fooled no one with his techniques to try and mask the extra pounds, Ben treated himself to one of the giant burritos from the place down the street. His shirt buttons straining, he could see the glances he was getting. Perhaps he should have been more embarrassed, but his mind was still whirring, wondering how many other people were actually secretly into this fat bellied look. Was that person staring because they thought he was gross? Or was it because they wanted to rip his shirt off and see the glorious gut that was under construction? He gasped in realisation as he thought about his Uncle Leon and Aunt Pam over in Detroit. Uncle Leon had been so lean and muscular when he’d got married, yet he’d rapidly packed on an incredible amount of fat in the following years. So much so that he’d had to give up his job in construction and skinny Aunt Pam had been working two jobs for years in order to support them both. So why was it that everyone in the family still hated Aunt Pam? They all knew about this sort of stuff, didn’t they? They knew that Aunt Pam liked him larger and had most likely enabled him to his easily 500lb state. There were others too: his friend Tom from school, with his giant mother and slender father who was always constantly bringing treats home for his wife. What about Bob and Helen in his old neighborhoo? Bob was the only super obese guy in town to be dating a former beauty queen, ten years younger than him.

Ben’s burrito was gone in a flash as he chewed and mulled over everything. His sweet tooth was driving him crazy and he popped next door to the doughnut place to pick up some treats as well as a large bottle of soda to take back into the office with him. It was only when he made it back to his desk that he’d remembered his intention to pick up a new shirt. He shrugged, noting that there were only four hours left until the end of the day anyway.

“Listen up, people!” Elijah called out. He looked at Ben, frowning at the little stain of burrito filling that had landed on his shirt over the lunch period. “How did you miss that giant mouth of yours?” he grumbled, clearly unimpressed by Ben's unprofessional presentation. “You’ve clearly had plenty of practice getting stuff in there.”

Again, there was a little rolling chuckle amongst the staff. Every month there were more and more new faces as Elijah gradually replaced the old staff with people who were more suited to him.

“Annie’s handed in her notice and won’t be returning,” the boss explained calmly, despite the immediate groans of frustration from everyone else. “I know it’s tough when this happens, but we’re all going to have to pick up the slack. Especially you, Ben,” he nodded. “You’re the only one who’s dealt with her contacts before she left. They're going to be some late nights for the next three weeks until we can hire someone to replace her.”

Ben looked around at everyone else. Was he really the only one who could deal with Annie’s clients? Why did this have to fall to him?

“It’s time to prove yourself,” Elijah nodded. “I know you’re desperate to get to the gym this evening, but that’ll have to wait,” he teased, unable to resist having another joke at Ben’s expense.

Ben rolled his eyes. It wasn’t fair. Still, the overtime would come in handy if he was going to take a vacation that summer, he thought to himself, always keen for a silver lining. He just hoped that Elijah wouldn’t be working later each night as well.

“So, how come I haven’t received an application from you for Annie’s position?” Elijah asked a few weeks later, popping back to the office late to send a few more emails. Dressed in his workout gear, Ben could never help himself from admiring the dedication it must have taken for the guy to build such large, strong arms. The tight compression shirt displayed the fullness of his pecs, lacking even an ounce of fat around his waist and allowing the stomach muscles to really pop out.

Ben shrugged at his boss’ question. “Because I’m not really qualified for it,” he answered simply.

“And yet, you’ve been doing the job, as well as your own, since the start of January,” Elijah shot back.

“That’s only because you reject every application that’s been sent in for the role.”

“Well, maybe I’m holding out for the right person,” Elijah smiled, almost flirtatiously. He looked around at the take out boxes on Ben’s table. Although Ben described his workload as ‘stressful’ at the moment, in reality, it was simply just time consuming. So what if he treated himself to something tasty as he sat at his desk each evening? And what did it matter if all he wanted to do in his sparse downtime was sit on his butt and play video games? Even so, to an image conscious Elijah, the sight of it all still seemed to cause him much amusement. “Apply for the job,” he stated candidly, starting to tidy up Ben’s take out containers and give him more room on his desk without a single snarky comment. “I think you may be pleasantly surprised.”

Ben did as he was told, reasoning that a position, such as Annie's old job, could actually launch him on a proper career. Whilst he was earning a good amount of overtime at the moment, the added income each month could help him save for his own place. With Elijah’s admission that he was happy to promote him, Ben suddenly felt like he had at last entered the guy’s inner circle of those deemed ‘worthy’. Under Elijah, status was granted not by job title, but by how much favor you carried with the boss.

It was exactly the reason why Carol stood beaming beside her new desk chair the following week. “Elijah ordered it for me because of all the back problems I’ve been having,” she boasted, knowing that there were few others that their boss would willingly blow company funds on like this. 

Starved of any other entertainment, one by one, the others in their office space lined up to have a go at sitting in the smart, innovative desk chair, until Ben was the only one still sitting disinterestedly at his own desk. He huffed, knowing that it would be the polite thing to at least try the chair and complement Carol on her good fortune. He lined up his rear, surprised that everyone in the office still seemed so interested. He’d known instantly that he was in trouble, given how tightly the firm arms of the chair had brushed against his hips as he carelessly dropped his entire body weight into it. He could tell by how tightly his love handles were pressed against the sides that he was thoroughly wedged into it.

“It’s nice,” Ben mumbled, trying not to show his surprise at how far back the chair had tipped now his weight was inside it. He turned and swivelled himself, hoping that the performance may be enough to satisfy everyone, shifting their attention to other things before he had to try and climb out of the damn thing. 

However, that was all before Elijah came out, resting his large hands on his strong hips and gazing down at Ben with a bemused expression; a quiet grinning as if he sensed the whirring panic in Ben’s brain as he tried to think about how to get out. “Ben, could I see you for a second?” he called out whilst everyone was still looking.

“Sure,” Ben nodded.”I’ll be there in a second,” he replied casually, already suspecting that Eliah’s timing was anything but coincidental.

“No,” Elijah shot back sternly, folding his arms. “I need to see you right now,” he beamed, perching himself on a desk as if ready for a show.

Ben knew he’d have to get himself out as quickly and undramatically as possible. He placed the palms of his hands on the end of the armrests, shifting his body weight as straight as possible. He shuffled his feet, giving himself as wide a stance as he could, then paused for a moment, summoning all the energy needed to haul his body upwards. Three… two… one…

To everyone else in the room, all they heard was a loud, unattractive and unintentional grunt coming from Ben. They saw the fat boy straining to lift himself upwards, held back by the obvious wedging of his rear against the sides. Led by their boss, the laughter from those around him was almost instantaneous. Someone came closer to try and help, although Elijah quickly told them to retreat, too busy enjoying the spectacle himself. 

His face pumped with blood, Ben lowered himself again, bouncing back up with even greater force. This time, the entire chair came up with him, despite still being stuck around his wider rear. He wriggled his hips and tried to push the chair back. Finally, he could feel some progress, if all far too slowly. His legs were burning, holding himself up in this strange half bent position.

At last, the chair slipped away, clattering to the floor and tipping over onto its side. Carol immediately picked it back up, checking it over for damage as she frowned in annoyance. Ben tucked his shirt back in tidily and straightened his tie, trying his best to ignore the ongoing laughter. He stepped over to Eliah. “Are we going into your office?” he asked, trying to ignore them all.

Eliah continued laughing. “No, buddy. I was just fucking with you,” he replied, as if Ben had been the dumbest person alive to have believed his false urgency to see him in the first place. “Just get that report to me by six,” he stated, turning and walking back, despite his ongoing laughter.

Sitting back down at his own desk, Ben grumbled to himself. What the hell was he doing putting up with this shit? He should just quit and find a job where he wasn’t treated like this just because he was obese. He looked up and saw Elijah still laughing in his office. That was the moment the revelation struck him. Perhaps Carol’s new chair had never been about correcting her posture. Perhaps it had always been intended as a trap for Ben. Had Ben just played perfectly into his boss’ hands? 

Back at home, Gray was dating a new girl, shifting the dynamic in the share-house considerably. Ben and Eddie’s jaws had dropped when they’d seen her; Marie, the stunning blonde girl with such a tight waist and big chest. The pairing with Gray couldn’t have been any more mismatched. Likewise, Eddie’s jealousy couldn’t have been more obvious, biting back at Gray whenever he tried to impart some dating advice on him so that he could one day be as blissfully happy as he was.

“Why does Gray suddenly believe he’s the universe’s gift to women?” Eddie grumbled. “It’s not like Marie is going to stick with a guy like him for long.”

Ben mumbled awkwardly. “I’m not so sure, y’know. She seems pretty serious about him. I heard them discussing pretty much everything: houses, marriage… the lot.”

Eddie huffed. “It’s just not fair, is it?” he complained. “Gray gets to live out his perfect life, whilst fatties like us remain permanently single.”

Ben bit his tongue, resisting the urge to call out Eddie for lumping him in the same category as him. Sure, he’d put on a lot of weight, but he wasn’t in the same league as Eddie, Gray, or even Joe. Yes, he had quite a gut on him now. And, yeah, maybe his chest was pretty flabby since he’d crossed three hundred pounds. But, he still was still pretty skinny compared to the others. Wasn’t he? The more Ben looked at himself in the mirror and assessed the situation, the less he seemed to believe in the differences between his own shape and that of the other guys. His problem had become his sheer width. As much as his stomach appeared to be pushing firmly outwards in one direction, his chunky butt seemed to be swelling outwards in the opposite direction. There was so much fat resting around his neck; his jawline completely swallowed. The cheeks of his face had puffed and broadened to such an extent that he actually found it hard to see his old self hidden underneath it all.

Whilst the promotion at work had granted him many benefits, Ben found the guaranteed extra income made his impulses harder to contain. Take out could arrive at ten in the evening; those premium doughnuts were hardly going to make a dent on his bank balance. But with so many bad habits ingrained in him now, Ben struggled to imagine anyone willing to put up with him in a romantic relationship. He didn’t really want to be active and go out an awful lot. The warmer late Spring days brought him annoyance and impatience as he sweated lethargically in his new office. Although he knew he shouldn’t, he kept a drawer full of candy and snacks, failing every single attempt of his to eat more healthily in the last two years. What difference was there between his own lifestyle and that of Joe or Eddie? Maybe this was something he wouldn’t ever be able to stop, even if he tried.

Being higher up the food chain at work gave Ben a new perspective on how well Elijah had turned the company around in under two years. From losing money each week, to acquiring multi million dollar contracts on a monthly basis, Elijah’s record was as perfect as could be. However, despite his success, there was always something about the guy that meant Ben couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Perhaps it was the fact that work seemed to consume so much of his life. Being a workaholic was fine if the person enjoyed it but, at times, it didn’t always seem like Elijah did.

“Don’t tell anyone this,” Elijah confided in Ben one evening after everyone else had left. “I’ve been offered a job elsewhere,” he whispered, as if, even now, he had to keep it under wraps. He wouldn’t say where, nor give away much more information other than the fact that the pay increase was to be life-changing.

“But, what would we do without you here?” Ben asked. He’d disliked Elijah as a boss for so much of his time here that he’d never actually considered how awful it would be trying to manage things without him.

“I imagine they’d give the role to Keira,” Elijah pondered.

“Oh, not Keira!” Ben groaned, already picturing the disordered chaos that would inevitably ensue.

“Or, you could come with me?” Elijah suggested next. “I could easily get you on-board. I couldn’t guarantee you the salary you have now; at least, not right away. But, once you’re in, there are so many more opportunities for you there.”

“You want to take me with you?” Ben asked, dumbfounded by the idea that Elijah would want such a thing.

“Of course. You’re the best we’ve got here!” Elijah beamed.

Ben frowned, knowing that not to be true in the slightest. The whole thing didn’t make any sense. Had he secretly been Elijah’s favorite this entire time?

As negotiation between Elijah and his potential new company got more intense, the man seemed to become more intent on getting Ben to make a decision about coming with him. In some ways, the pressure felt unfair and it almost seemed to Ben as if Elijah was quite prepared to turn down the offer were he to refuse to move with him.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Gray nodded to Ben as the pair of them stacked a few boxes ready for Gray’s moving out day tomorrow. With Gray and Marie moving in together, Joe was soon to take the room, saving them all from having to advertise the space. Helping Gray pack up had been a good distraction for Ben, as well as quite lucrative, inheriting plenty of clothes items from the back of Gray’s closet that the guy had outgrown months before. “Is everything okay at work?” Gray probed further, having always been the most intuitive of all the larger guys Ben lived with.

Ben sighed, explaining the entire situation.

“You know, Marie used to come into my workplace pretty much every day,” Gray began afterwards. “She’d make excuse after excuse for her being there but, in the end, it was me who had to ask her out.”

“What’s this got to do with anything?” Ben asked, chuckling at the sudden change of subject.

“What I mean is…” Gray sighed, rolling his eyes. “I remember what you told us about your boss. Sometimes, chasers are no different to the rest of us. Sometimes everyone needs a little help asking for what they really want.”

All at once, Ben knew exactly what he needed to do. He felt confident as he strode into Elijah’s office the next day. The blinds had been drawn and Elijah pulled him in as if he wanted to discuss a top secret bank heist that must not be overheard. “Well, what’s your decision?” he asked, as if every second counted.

Sighing, Ben took a seat, looking up at the handsome guy earnestly. “I’m staying here,” he explained simply, cutting Elijah off the moment the man burst into his sales pitch, trying to convince him once more. “Listen, you don’t need me!” he smiled. “You’re going to be awesome.”

“But you’re the best I’ve got!” Elijah countered. 

“I’m average at best!” Ben laughed. !And you know it!” He could see Elijah trying to redouble his efforts to counter his remark, yet he continued, talking over Elijah as he began to speak. “I’m just a chubby, overfed, under-exercised, nerdy accountant. And… I think I’m also the guy you’ve secretly had a crush on for quite some time…”

Elijah immediately halted trying to speak over him. The man’s eyes widened. He started mumbling, immediately flustered. “I… I’m…” he tried, looking like he had been outmanoeuvred for the first time in his life. “How did you know?” he finally asked.

“I didn’t,” Ben laughed. “That was the problem. I just thought you were being an asshole most of the time! You’re actually not that good when it comes to approaching people you’re genuinely attracted to, are you?”

Elijah shook his head.

“If I came with you, you’d still be my boss and we could never explore whatever this could be between us,” Ben reasoned. “Whereas, if you hand in your notice today… Well, you and I could be out for dinner this evening, with no nasty fallout from HR.”

With a beaming smile, Elijah was soon announcing his departure to the entire office. Ben was sitting, slouched in his own office, picking at a couple of doughnuts and not really paying attention to what was going on outside. He was hardly going to go out there, pretending to be surprised. Besides, it was fairly common knowledge that he didn’t even really like Elijah, which made it even more bizarre when he was sitting across from the man at a very fancy restaurant only a few short hours later. It was so obvious when someone really was making an effort on a date; Elijah received top marks for his charming manner and attentiveness. He thoroughly deserved the kiss he was granted during the cab ride back to his place.

“You’ll know he’s definitely a chaser when you get to kiss him for the first time,” Gray had warned him. “If he’s anything like Marie, his hands will go straight to your belly!”

Ben had found the idea strangely arousing when Gray had said that. However, it was nothing compared to how horny he felt with Elijah’s hands exploring his body with a lust Ben had never before experienced. Arousal leached from every pore of the guy’s body and, when they went inside Elijah’s apartment, Ben felt like he was almost being worshipped. Even so, nothing was ever rushed. The build up was always perfect; the crescendo, always sublime. Despite the stunning physique of Elijah, it always felt as though it was Ben’s rounded, bloated form that was the star attraction. After a couple of weeks, Elijah was permitted to fuck him properly for the first time. Each thrust into Ben’s hefty rear seemed to give the man absolute pleasure. Nothing was ever done hastily, even as Elijah moaned softly and breathed steadily, as if trying to hold back an orgasm that he could summon at any moment. 

Of course Ben continued to pack on weight once he’d got together with Elijah. It was yet another thing that Gray had warned him about when dating a chaser. Elijah was kinky, without a doubt. He took pleasure in taking a can of whipped cream into the bedroom with them and encouraging Ben to lick it all off his muscular body at any opportunity. It wasn’t unusual for them to deplete an entire can in almost no time at all. 

However, just like Marie and Gray, Ben’s relationship with Elijah seemed equally as controversial. Despite the almost fifteen year age gap, folks just couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around why a man as stunning and successful as Elijah was so captivated by such a fat man as Ben; the looks and stares only getting worse as Ben’s weight continued to climb; his body getting more expansive and jigglier; fat building upon already well established fat. Perhaps it didn’t help how ‘touch’ was always Elijah's best love language when they were out and about. Ben was well used to having the man’s large hand attached to his wide rear, or cupping a bulge of back fat. It was obvious how distasteful some appeared to find it; especially some of Elijah’s more refined friends. Not that it ever stopped him. Elijah was simply being himself for the first time in his life.

“She’s a real kinky little thing, y’know,” Elijah had chuckled one evening after Gray and Marie had left, not long after Ben had moved in with his lover.

Ben, who had spent most of the night discussing video games with Gray in the lounge, had almost forgotten that Elijah would have had so much time to get to know the pretty little thing that had ensnared his best friend so completely. “Oh, yeah?” he smirked, feeling like he knew so much more about what it was like to date a chaser these days. “Gray’s certainly looking a lot heftier these days.”

“He sure is! But he’s all belly. Unlike you with that big, cute butt…” Elijah grinned, swooping in for a kiss. “But there’s plenty more to come if you listen to Marie! Gray is going all out for her, trying to get his weight up before their wedding.”

Ben laughed. He’d always assumed that Marie had driven Gray’s ongoing weight gain but, now that Elijah had said it, the amount that Gray had been gorging on the snacks that evening seemed to make perfect sense. “No wonder I feel so full!” Ben laughed, rubbing his bloated stomach. He’d always been easily influenced by those around him and, if he could pinpoint the moment his weight truly began to run away from him, it had been when he’d moved in with the larger guys, Gray and Eddie; being surrounded by such frequent overeating and carefree attitudes towards food. Just like tonight, watching someone else eating so much always made Ben feel naturally hungrier himself. “So, does that mean you were telling Marie how much weight I’ve packed on since we started dating?” he asked, knowing that such questions always brought out the kinky, teasing side of Elijah that Ben had always found rather unattractive; that was, until they had started dating and it’d become funnier, more laid back and always tinged with kinkiness.

“Of course I did,” Elijah smiled back, his hands exploring the pounds and pounds of pure lard that had made Ben’s stomach so large and spherical since he had broken four hundred pounds. “And I told her about your plans to cut down your hours at work,” the man continued to explain, unbuttoning Ben’s shirt to unleash the enormous torso that he got so much pleasure from. His hands grabbed underneath and bounced the giant belly that had amassed. “I think she’s quite jealous of how well I’m doing with my big boy!” he teased.

Ben chuckled back, enjoying the attention. Dating a chaser had been quite a learning curve for him, but the more he had leaned into it, the more pleasure he had gained from it. He’d wanted Elijah to be open about his kinks, which had simultaneously opened up a whole new world to Ben. There were so many people out there getting enjoyment from this. He’d asked Elijah to use his contacts in these communities to find girls for his friends, Joe and Eddie. On the whole, he’d been pleased to see his friends so happy, despite how rapidly Joe’s secretly kinky girlfriend had swollen up the guy’s face and butt to the point where some people no longer recognised him. Similarly, Elijah delighted in having any of the guys over at their place, splashing his cash by ordering mountains of take out for them all and simultaneously messaging their girlfriends to quietly update them on how well they’d all eaten.

“What’s my calorie count tonight?” Ben asked, seeing the pure lust in his lover’s eyes.

“I counted about five thousand since Marie and Gray arrived at six o’clock,” Elijah speedily replied, full of admiration for him.

“Shit! No way?” Ben chuckled back, rubbing his tight stomach. “I didn’t even notice I was eating that much.”

“You never have,” Elijah smiled wickedly.”I saw that greedy appetite and knew there’d never be anyone I’d want more than you!” He wrapped his arms around Ben’s hips, rubbing the broad glutes. “You’re perfect!”

Ben accepted the sweet kiss from his lover. He could already feel Elijah’s hardness rubbing against him, just as it always did whenever the guy had watched him eat so much in one go. Despite all the dirty dishes, they were heading into the bedroom; clothes rapidly disappearing. “Go on, then!” Ben chuckled, already knowing exactly what horny Elijah wanted to ask him. 

The man beamed, bounding away briefly and returning with a fresh can of whipped cream. He lay himself down on the bed, squirting furiously around his hardness.

Ben licked his lips, gazing down at the beautiful physique of his lover; kind, sporty, intelligent and successful. He couldn’t have found anyone better. As for this kinky streak of his… Well, that was something Ben would never want to be without. It was the part of Elijah that Ben had come to love more than any other. Despite his own monstrous, growing form, Ben knew that there would never be anyone Elijah craved more. 

He was, and always would be, Elijah’s dream boy.

[cushfuddled]

I AM SO UNWELL ABOUT JAYCE LITERALLY SHAKING NEXT TO VIKTOR'S HOSPITAL BED. Thank you for the delicious food!

Somehow this gif bolsters my belief that Jayce was the one who found Viktor's unconscious body.

Just...looking back on Jayce's face earlier that day...

Maybe this look says, "Oof, Viktor's about to take out a city block." In retrospect I'm more given to, "Am I really about to leave Viktor alone to blow himself up?"

This moment strikes me as an extension of Jayce's series-long tug-of-war between the council (and by proxy his wider obligation to society) and Viktor, who he's about to leave to perform extremely volatile lab experiments alone. They've known each other for like seven years at this point, so I daresay Jayce would expect Viktor to stay and work long after Sky and the rest of the faculty had left for the night. There's a reason lab safety protocols demand you work with a partner whenever possible. If Viktor does decide to stay late and something goes wrong, there won't be anyone around to help.

Anyway. Mel wakes up to an empty bed. I always joke Jayce's queer premonition alerted him to Viktor's plight, since if someone came by Mel's quarters to fetch him, the noise would've woken Mel as well (plus at this point their tryst was so new I'm not sure anyone would've thought to look for Jayce in Mel's bedroom). Guilt feels like the only viable explanation for Jayce's rude departure.

I posit up until this moment Jayce justified his councilor position as a means to an end. He told himself it was obligation that ripped him from Viktor; the lab; his true calling. They needed the money and the support. But I don't believe Jayce slept with Mel to "get ahead." He's not that brand of opportunist, and anyway—he'd just wrapped up a successful wine-and-dine campaign. Jayce's counselor position was more secure that night than it had ever been. He slept with Mel not out of obligation but because he wanted to.

To me this proves some part of Jayce liked the attention; the mind games; the power that came from his position. It proves Jayce didn't only leave Viktor out of obligation. And I think Jayce realized the same contradiction. He could no longer hide behind excuses like money and public perception. That night Jayce had the choice to go back to the lab and make sure Viktor hadn't electrocuted himself...or sleep with Mel. And he chose to sleep with Mel. To assuage the guilt he slipped out of bed and course-corrected to the lab—only to find Viktor passed out on the floor.

So anyway. Um. Back to OP's gif. Those are the hands of a guilt-ridden man who carried his partner to a hospital. I'm not sure why this gif makes me so sure of the fact, but I will die on this hill.

Noticing these things is above my mental health’s paygrade🥺

[sinmartini]

"feels so right but it's just so wrong." // red!clark kent

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: clark kent is usually such a nice guy. what's gotten into him? wc: 1714 warnings: red!clark, face fucking with fingers, implications of oral (m receiving), clark being arrogant, pet names, fem!reader, not proofread.

“You are being so annoying,” Red!Clark told you, rolling his eyes as he tucked himself further into the couch settled in the loft. He had been acting so strange all day, completely unlike the best friend you knew and loved. There was a slight attitude in his tone, irritation radiating off of him, and pelting you with nearly everything that had come out of his mouth. It was almost like you were a human punching bag today; if an unkind thought passed through his head, he was more than willing to say it to you.

“What?” You snapped at him, finally nearing the breaking point. Your eyes pointed up at him, shifting your head in his lap to get a better look at you. It wasn’t uncommon to lay your head on his lap, the rest of your body taking up the other end of the couch. Actually, Clark typically liked it when you two did this together. Even though you were just best friends, there was an intrinsic need for you two to be in touch all the time. Hand holding, platonic cuddling, hugs that lasted a minute too long. Today, though… Today he looked frustrated by the way you were clinging to him, the physical touch he had once loved from you be damned. 

Not only had you just experienced something completely terrible, with Clark swooping in to save you at the last minute yet again, but he was being such a jerk.

“I just never realized how needy and clingy you are. What you did back there was dangerous too. Don’t you have any inkling for self preservation?” Clark’s words were one thing, but his actions were indicative of another as he gently stroked his fingers through your hair. 

Was he wrong? Not really. You were needy and clingy when it came to him, but that’s how it’s always been with the two of you. Hell, he was just as clingy most of the time. That’s what came along with knowing his secret; being one of the only people who actually knew the real Clark Kent. 

“Clark, you know I’d do anything for a story. The Daily Planet isn’t going to promote me if I only write boring headlines. I thought that’s why we work so well together? I can bust a crime ring and you’re always there to swoop in.” You were trying to reason with him now, get to the bottom of what was really going on inside of his head. Ever since this morning, it was like Clark had been stripped from all his inhibitions, most of the qualities that made Clark… Well, Clark, had somehow disappeared.

“Good writers can make a story out of anything,” Clark noted, his fingers still stroking through your hair. “They don’t have to put themselves in constant danger and despair to write a think piece.”

“You don’t think I’m a good writer?” You asked him, trying to lift your head from his thigh, needing to create some space between you and your best friend before he could say something that might kill your spirits all together.

“You could be better,” Clark shrugged, his shoulders lifting and collapsing in one cohesive motion as disinterest flickered across his face. You could tell he was done with the conversation now, dishing out that he didn’t think you were that great at what you do, then ready to move on like you weren’t going to have more questions for him.

It wasn’t often that you cried in front of Clark. On the off chance that you did cry in front of him, it was for good reason, and Clark had never made you cry. Until now. The tears that threatened the corner of your waterline were mortifying, and the more you tried to blink them away, the quicker they began formulating. 

Once more, you tried to move yourself off of his lap, but Clark held you in place. Finally, he looked down at you, his facial expression shifting from disinterest to amusement when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. There was no way you could have missed the way his lips curled up, just enough to show he enjoyed the sight of you messy on his lap. And there was absolutely no way to miss the way his eyes shimmered with delight, darkening at the sight of your bottom lip quivering.

“You’re crying? C’mon, it wasn’t that mean,” Clark scoffed as his hand found its way from your hair to your chin, holding your face between his thumb and his forefinger. Vulnerability flooded through you as Clark examined every aspect of your face with such intensity, you wanted to shrink under his gaze.

As you opened your mouth, trying to find the words to let Clark know he had been hurting your feelings all day, it wasn’t just this offhand comment that was contributing to your tears, a small sob released from your chest. The words didn’t come out, only heavier breathing and more tears.

“So fussy,” Clark said, his voice sultry and thick as he gently stroked his pointer finger from your chin to your mouth, placing it between your lips and forcing you to open up. You didn’t know why you were being so compliant with it, but Clark pushed his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, pressing harshly on the middle of  your tongue and you couldn’t help the moan that stirred. “Let me pacify you.”

Your moans were vibrating off of his fingers as he worked them in and out of your mouth, his gaze fixated on you in a way you had never seen before. It wasn’t just lust that filled it eyes; it was carnal desire, like in this moment he needed you as much as you needed him. At least, that is likely what he wanted you to think.

There was something intrinsically hot about the situation as a whole— you laying there, crying on his lap as he hushed you with his fingers in a way that could be written in an erotica book. Nothing about it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong either, and you could tell Clark felt the same way by the tent growing underneath his jeans, the length of him pressing against the seat of his pants.

Your mouth salivated at the thought of it, creating more lubricant to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth. His eyes traveled to where you were looking, curious as to what had stopped your tears in their tracks and distracted you. A chuckle, deep from his chest sounded, as he realized how desperate you were for it. Part of him had to know, this whole time, that you wanted him in a way that was less than platonic, right?

“Feels so right but it’s just so wrong,” Clark said, reading your mind as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip of his finger hit your gag reflex, causing your head to lurch, but he pushed you back down in his lap. The disinterest that flooded his features less than five minutes ago had completely evaporated, now replaced with sheer and utter amusement.

You were so wet, it was uncomfortable. Your core was dripping with desire, soaking into your cotton panties and clinging to you just enough to overwhelm you. With furrowed brows, you tried to talk around Clark’s fingers, and that prior expression of annoyance had returned once more.

“You’re not supposed to be talking, bunny, that’s the point of this. I want you to shut up.” Clark moved his fingers against your tongue once more, pressing and pushing on the insides of your cheeks, carefully grazing the gag reflex every so often in a teasing gesture. He couldn’t help but taunt you, just a bit.

You made a muffled noise, a whine mixed with a moan. Even with his fingers in your mouth, you were still being fussy.

“What?” Clark asked, his tone full of mockery as he offered a sympathetic expression that you knew to be just another one of his taunts. If you weren’t so turned on, you would be trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him, but right now you were too blinded by desire to care— even if that meant Clark was going to mock you the entire time. “You want my cock in your mouth instead? Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Your eyes widened and you frantically nodded around his fingers. He didn’t need to see more before he was unbuttoning his pants as you gently lifted your head to allow him to kick them off.

But as soon as Clark’s pants were off, his expression had shifted completely. The mocking expression was now laced with confusion, the evidence of what you were about to get into pressed against the hem of his boxers. 

It was hard for him to look you in the eyes, and you weren’t sure why the sudden shift in demeanor until he asked you, “can you empty out the pockets of my jeans?”

You moved off the couch, picking up his jeans and shuffling through the pockets, feeling silly with the dried tears on your face and Clark’s seeming lack of interest in you now. In the very bottom of his right pocket, there was one ruby earring. You placed it in your palm, showing it to him and that’s when it hit you both.

“Red kryptonite,” Clark said definitively and you thought you could melt right there. His behavior had a reason behind it, yours was driven by pure desire. “I thought it was a ruby earring. I found it at the Talon and was going to turn it into their lost and found.”

“Oh god,” you said, dropping the earring on the floor of the loft. Your feet were moving down the stairs, bolting for the exit before your brain could catch up with you.

Clark stood at the top of the stairs, his half hard dick still swinging in his boxers, “Wait! Let’s talk about this. Please.”

Slowly, with one hand on the door, you turned around to look at him, avoiding looking below the waist. Maybe you two could work things out. In more ways than one.

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty CUTE thoughts - seungcheol •

the valentine’s day one with clumsy cheol

seungcheol has big plans for valentine’s day, but everything seems to be going wrong - he just wants to make it the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had, no matter what

seungcheol had plans for your valentine’s day evening - he planned the food, the jewelry, the flowers, literally everything PLANNED

but now he’s lying on his back in a hospital bed because he tripped in the bathroom - he wasn’t even showering - he just slipped and whacked his head on the tile and maybe got woozy when he saw some blood

it was so embarrassing, literally everything about tonight was supposed to be sexy

but when you come into the hospital room, worried and squishing his cheeks, asking if he’s ’okay’ and ‘what can you do’ - all he can think is how you’re so cute when you’re worried about him, cooing over him and petting him, calling him ‘baby’ and kissing his forehead - he certainly doesn’t hate it

plus, he’s usually the one who’s protective, but you’re kind of scary when the nurses can’t answer basic questions, like whether it’s a serious head injury or a mild concussion

he’s annoyed when the doctor says he needs to stay the night because he can literally imagine everything he planned sitting at home and going to waste, but at least they say you can stay the night too

you had planned for that, of course, and already brought some extra clothes for yourself and for him, plus a tablet full of downloaded shows and movies and the pillow he likes and an extra blanket

it’s funny to him how a few things from home and having you curled against him make a hospital room seem almost homey

he’s almost okay with things, but also he isn’t at all - tonight was important - he had been waiting to tell you something and this wasn’t the romantic evening he had planned

but when you lean up to kiss him, your warm lips pressing to his, he immediately feels all the warm, quivering feelings you always make him feel - he loves those feelings dearly

you lean back slowly, smoothing his hair and staring at him quietly for a few moments, he returns your gaze, adoring the gentle way you look at him, like he’s someone truly special to you

you lean down again, kissing his cheek softly, “you’re so sweet for planning everything,” you whisper

he flushes slightly, “you weren’t supposed to see that,” he whines

you just smile, “but i did and it was so perfect” —

he stops you, “i know, but then i fell and ruined everything”

you shake your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, cheol,” you assures him, “it’s just a special story we can tell everyone one day,” she smiles, “the day i realized i was completely in love with you,” you kiss him again, lingering for a moment before pulling back

his eyes were large, “i was supposed to confess today!” he whined again

you laugh softly, “so go ahead then - it’s not like we can’t realize it the same day”

he shakes his head, “no, i’ve known - i just wanted to tell you today so it’s romantic…special,” he pouted

you nod, “ah, so you wanted it to be memorable when you told me?” you giggle, “there’s nothing memorable about today, i guess”

he knew you were joking, but he still sulked, and you press closer, “cheol,” you stroke his cheek, “really, i mean it, i love you,” you whisper, “just you,” you press another kiss to his cheek

“maybe i’ll pick another romantic day,” he exaggerated his pouting, making you laugh softly

you nuzzle close, “at least i told you as soon as i knew how i felt”

he sighs, “i knew at christmas when you picked the matching necklaces and refused anything else they had”

she laughed, “that? can it be something else?”

“no - it’s just when i knew you were really the person i love,” he strokes your cheek

you smile, “i guess it’s okay then”

he rolls his eyes, “i love you too,” he finally confesses

you nuzzle closer, enjoying his warmth, “i love you more”

he swats your arm gently, “i’m injured, let me win,” he pouts

you grin, “of course you win, my perfect cheol”

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a/n: i just wanted something cute for cheollie

♡ kat

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[sunsbaby]

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ּ ֶָ֢ 𓍯𓂃 dean winchester x cupid!reader | valentines day special 18+ |

You'd met Dean when he was at his lowest, in which you pulled him up with soft gentle hands. Filling his heart with the love you normally struck within others. He was in debt to you, even if you told him it didn't matter.

"Let me take care of you, baby." He said pleading you with those eyes, his hands were glued to your hips. It was Valentine's day, and Dean wanted to show you all the love you deserved.

He already started the day showering you with chocolates and flowers, everything he found with hearts on it—you had. Now, as the sun set and the moon's light slipped past the blinds, all he wanted to do was take care of you. Just how you took care of him.

"Dean, you've done enough today, it's all perfect." You said, your hands moving to toy with his short locks. Gentle eyes looking up towards his.

His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, shushing you as his body pressed against yours. Slowly walked you towards the bed until the two of you dropped down on top of it. His hands find their way onto your thighs, pulling the flesh apart.

"Please, baby." He practically whined—Dean whining, you couldn't say no. Especially when he gave you those puppy eyes, all love-sick and sweet. So, you gave him a nod, watching as he moved between your thighs.

You hadn't been wearing shorts nor pants, seeing as the two of you stayed home all day. You didn't mind of course, wine and movies with your love was all you wanted. Dean's breath fawned on your clothed pussy, cooling the damp spot that had formed.

He nipped at the inside of your thighs, leaving little teeth marks in his wake. He sucked and gripped them tight as he got closer, hickeys littered the flesh. His fingers teased the fabric of your panties, slowly pulling them away and off of you.

As soon as they were tossed somewhere on the floor to be forgotten about, he dived in. Eating your pussy like a man starved. He lapped at your juices—pulling moans and mewls from you like nothing. He didn't falter, his grip on your thighs keeping you from closing them.

Your hands grasped onto his hair, hips bucking against his face as his nose hit your clit perfectly. Noises fell from your lips and struck his heart like one of your arrows, they fueled him on. His hips bucked against the mattress as his own groans slipped past his arousal coated lips.

A knot formed in your lower belly as your head fell back, the grip on his hair tightened drastically, now chasing your own release with no mind to how he feels. But, Dean was having the best night of his life. Tongue deep in his little cupids pretty pussy, drinking in your juices like a glass of whiskey.

"Dean!" You shouted as you came, which he obviously lapped up like a dog. He continued his attack on your clit, even as your high crashed down on you.

"There's my pretty baby." He murmured against your thigh as you came, he pulled away from your now swollen cunt. Planting a soft kiss to your soaked slit he moved back up to face you. "Y'still think I had 'done enough?'" He asked, a stupid smile etched onto his features.

He stared at your fucked out expression with such love and admiration he'd never shown to anyone else. Yet, as he lay next to you, tangled up as you slept on his chest all he could think about was how much he really did care for you and love you. Dean didn't think he could love, all he did was hurt.

You changed something inside him, in that moment Dean Winchester realized, you were just what he needed in life.

sunny yaps! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE!!(I POSTED THIS BEFORE VALENTINES 😽) heres a Dean smut for you all! AS I'VE SAID MANY TIMES I AM NOT THE BEST AND THIS ISN'T PROOF READ PLEASE DONT BEAT ME UP!! I LOVE YOU ALL 💋 KISSES!!

special tags! @figthoughts @bluemerakis @dulcescorderitas

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

This is gentle parenting. The amazing concept that your child is a human being.

(Permissive parenting is something else that doesn't work very well.)

For the most part, my parents tried to do gentle parenting. They didn't know of it as a parenting technique (it was the 80s, I'm not sure it had that name yet) and they weren't even trying for a specific technique.

My dad had this specific line he said once that stuck with me:

"We spend all of this time telling kids that hitting is bad and they shouldn't do it, and then we hit them for punishment? Seems counterproductive."

I did get spanked a few times, but it was mostly, in retrospect, out of fear for what I'd just done. I'd either endangered myself or someone else and scared the shit out of them so I got a tiny swat on the butt. Happened less than five times my entire childhood. They always apologized afterward, explaining that they'd been scared and that wasn't the right way to be scared.

Once it was because I seriously hurt someone and my dad, crying, told me that I needed to understand the pain I'd just put that person through. He was really upset, both that I'd hurt someone and that he needed to make me understand the hurt I'd inflicted. He cried the whole time. It was one of like four times I ever saw my father cry, my entire life. I was more upset at how sad he was than over the spanking.

Thing is, when you treat your child like a human being, they love you and you love them. They know that. Making you sad or upset or disappointed genuinely upsets them and makes them want to do better. Think about how you react when your favorite teacher is disappointed in you. How do you feel?

Now imagine if your favorite teacher and your parent both had the same place in your heart. You'd want to do them proud, wouldn't you?

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[alotofpockets]

Big sister | Katie McCabe x Pregnant!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Did the baby just kick?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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Having a lazy morning was often not in the cards for your family. Between your daughter's activities and playdates, and both of your and Katie's work schedules there was rarely time for lazy mornings.

Today however was a rare day where none of you had plans in the morning. Katie had a rest day, you took the day off for a doctor's visit in the afternoon, and your daughter only had a playdate after your appointment.

The three of you took full advantage of this time. With a three year old sleeping in wasn't in the cards, but you'd trade sleeping in for cuddles with your little family any day. 

You woke up from the noise of your daughter playing in her room. Her giggles traveling to your bedroom. You had told Lily that when she woke up, she could play in her room. She had seen it as a fun activity she could do, but really you had told her so you could get a little more sleep in yourself.

Her happiness puts a smile onto your face, as you roll over to cuddle into your wife. Katie was still sound asleep, so you wrapped your arm around her and scooted closer so you could be her big spoon. After a few soft kisses to her back, you started dozing off again yourself. Somehow, you managed to fall back to sleep with the buzzing noise of your daughter in the background. 

Well, until Lily decided that she was done playing and came to jump into bed with the two of you. She knew that she couldn’t jump on you right now, because you were pregnant, and she knew you were growing her baby brother in your belly.

That meant that the still fully asleep Katie was your daughter’s target. She climbed onto her side of the bed and started a cuddle attack. A term you had grown to love. A cuddle attack meant your daughter would jump in out of nowhere and put her little arms around you while yelling ‘cuddle attack’ to announce herself. 

Katie awoke to your daughter’s tiny body jumping into her and attacking her with cuddles. “Morning to you too, Cuddle Monster.” She said with her voice still groggy, as she hugged her back.

Lily climbed over Katie and slid down in between the two of you. Knowing exactly where she needed to be to get cuddled from both sides. “Good morning!” She said cheerfully, before each of you squished her cheeks with a kiss. 

You soaked in every second of the lazy start to your morning, just cuddling and chatting with your little family. “Cuddle mornings are my favourite.” Lily said out of nowhere. It brought a smile to both of your face’s. “Me too, baby.” You said as you pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I think we should have them more often. I love them and you very much.” Katie said contently, while looking between you both.

You were about to agree with having them more often, when suddenly you froze. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in your stomach. 

Katie noticed your sudden stillness, and sat up quickly. “What’s wrong?” She said slightly panicked. You don’t answer her question, too focussed on what’s happening in your stomach. You press your hand to your stomach, accidentally worrying both Katie and Lily more.

“Did I hurt you, Mama?” Lily asked full of concern. That snapped you out of your focus. “No, love, Mama isn’t in pain.”

You lifted your eyes to meet Katie’s. She saw the tears welling in your eyes, but realised there wasn’t a sad or scared look in your eyes, but an excited, and awestruck one. "Wait, did the baby just kick?" She asked, thinking that she figured out what was going on.

With a nod and a teary smile, you say, “I think so.”

Lily looks between the two of you with a confused expression plastered on her face. “What does it mean? Is baby hurting Mama?” 

You shake your head. “No, love, the baby isn’t hurting me. Here give me your hand and you can feel what it means.” Lily reached out her hand, and you gently put it on your stomach, where the baby just kicked.

Her small hand was quickly joined by Katie’s, both waiting to feel what you were feeling. For a moment there was nothing, no kicking, and no speaking. Your whole family was patiently waiting for your little boy to kick again. And then her did it again, another tiny kick, this time pressed against their hands.

Your eyes met Katie’s, both of you with tears welling in your eyes. Having forgotten how great it was to feel your baby for the first time. Then your eyes moved over to your little girl, her eyes wide as she was still staring to where she had just felt the kick. “Was that really baby brother?”

You smiled wide, “Yeah, it was. I think he wanted to let us know that he was enjoying our cuddle morning too.”

Katie leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly. “Hi bubba, you’ve got some strong kicks already, huh?”

Lily giggled at Katie speaking to the baby before copying her. She left a sloppy kiss on your belly and said, “I love you baby brother.” It was safe to say that both of your hearts melted in that exact moment.

You let your fingers move through Lily’s hair. “You’re going to be such a good big sister.” Lily nodded proudly. “I’m gonna teach him all the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Katie asked as she pulled her back in for another hug.

Lily put her finger to her lips, thinking for a moment before saying, “How to cuddle attack, play football, and colour inside the lines.”

Katie chuckled, “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. He’s very lucky to have a big sister like you.”

You had been a little nervous about how Lily would react to not being the only child anymore, and had been trying your best to prepare her to be a big sister, and in that moment you knew that everything was going to be alright.

Your baby boy was already so loved, and you couldn’t wait to see your kids interacting together.

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